(Special note. Blogger's been messing with me lately, fellow babies. If you see any huge gaps in the text, that's where a photo is supposed to be! Right-click on the center of the space to (hopefully) open the photo in a new tab or window!)
I was both sad and disgusted that I was forced to miss my chance to attend Mr. Toast's Second Annual Christmas Tea! When I left Boston's Logan Airport, I was wondering if there was any chance I could still get there. Perhaps some of Mr. Toast's other guests could supply me with transportation, if I could only contact them via the internet!
I picked a lock and ducked into a large, cluttered warehouse, filled with all sorts of interesting artifacts. I realized that my suitcase, containing not one, but two swords, had been left stupidly behind at the airport when I'd made my hasty exit! Luckily, my high-tech miniaturized laptop was clutched in my hand. I could check my blog for messages!
Before I could open the laptop, however, I realized that I was not alone in the warehouse.
Flanked by two ominous-looking uniformed men stood a man I had glimpsed earlier, at Logan Airport. I had wondered if he was one of the many TSA agents who had been watching me then.
He rudely dismissed his two attendants. "Get out of here, both of you!" he commanded. "This isn't some penny ante terrorist. This is Zorro. He's a man of honor, and deserves to be brought in by the one man who can take him." He paused, dramatically. "Me."
I slowly inched my way closer to him, until I could finally make his face out clearly. "Hey!" I cried, sounding more like a movie buff named David M. Lynch than el Zorro, "You're Kurt Russell! I love your stuff! I've seen you in everything from Tombstone to The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes!"
He seemed a bit taken aback by my outburst. "Kurt Russell? Uhhh... No, sorry, that's not me! My name is Snake Plissken! And I've been hired by the TSA as a special operative to bring you for questioning after you disrupted things at the airport all day today."
He regained his composure, and shrugged off his leather jacket, producing a rather huge gun out of nowhere as he did so. He pointed it at me.
"Just come along peacefully. Or I'll shoot."
I was unarmed! I taunted him, to bide my time. "That's a very big gun you have there, Mr. Russell... I mean, Mr. Plissken! Perhaps you are... compensating... for something?"
His one good eye narrowed. "Just come along peacefully," he repeated grimly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a beautiful young woman -- Of course it was a beautiful young woman! To be Zorro is to always be surrounded by beautiful women! -- who was clutching my suitcase. If she could only get it to me...!
Thinking quickly, I rapidly removed my cape and threw it over Kurt's... I mean, Snake Plissken's face! While he struggled to remove it, the fair lady threw the suitcase to me.
By the time Snake was unencumbered by my cape, and had pointed his huuuge gun at me once again, I was holding both of my swords at the ready.
His face twisted into the closest approximation of a smile that I supposed it could have. I had two good eyes, and two weapons. He had only one good eye, and only one weapon, huuuuge though it was.
He was effectively "outnumbered." He stood mutely as the lady took his huuuuuge gun from him.
"I suggest you leave this building, fair maiden," said I, "in case this situation is not yet resolved!" She did so, taking Snake's huuuuuuge weapon with her.
"Oh, it's resolved, all right," he said, donning his leather jacket and turning away from me. "No shame in being bested by one such as you, Zorro."
He began walking away, then turned back to me and lit a match.
He began walking away, then turned back to me and lit a match.
His one good eye stared into my own two eyes. "Maybe you've noticed how much flammable old junk is in here? I'll just bet that one carelessly-discarded match could set this whole place ablaze in seconds! And if it does, I'm also betting that only one of us two makes it out of here... alive."
With that said... Snake dropped the match.
Well! To make a long story short, he was right. The warehouse went up in flames in no time at all, and only one of us emerged... as far as I know. (And it seems that I left my cape on the floor of the burning warehouse.)
It only took a few moments before I found the fair maiden, and thanked her appropriately for having come to my aid!
And now? Well, now I'm waiting at an undisclosed location for the arrival of the exquisite young lady! I have removed as much of my costume as I can and still modestly show you a photograph. I already need a shave, I see. And I have decided to leave the dark dye in my hair until I return home.
I dearly regret having missed Mr. Toast's gala affair, but at least I shall have an affair... that is, a compensation... or two, for my troubles.
There's always next year... *sigh*
And it is with only the slightest discomfort that I realize that these internet events always seem to cost me a cape!
Adios, amigos! (Which is more or less today's equivalent of "Thanks for your time.")
