|
So he started checking out the buildings. He ventured around the
corner, staying on the path (mustn't forget the lessons learned!),
advancing slowly, listening. Always listening. And looking. Always
looking. He advanced further in to the compound and found what must be
the Drug Lord's Lair!
And that's when he saw it, right there in front of his very eyes! A
bright yellow caterpillar on the stalk of grass right in front of his
very eyes.
"Awwwwwww!" said he. "It's so pretty!"
"Ahhhhhhh!" said the guard, having heard the overly loud sigh that our
hero had just foolishly emitted at a noise level usually reserved for
movie theatre sound bites. "Aaaaaaaah!" cried our hero, dashing for
the woods, all lessons about staying on the path having been hastily
forgotten.
There was a yell from behind, the alarm had been sounded, he had been
found out. But that did not dissuade (fancy word, huh?) our intrepid
Hero, who flashed back to an Amsterdam bar where he had foolishly
walked in wearing his Adolf Hitler costume to what he thought was a
costume party. But alas, it was a neo-Nazi gathering and they assumed
he was mocking them. It hadn't been a particularly pleasing memory,
what with him running through the streets screaming like a little girl
waving his arms hither and thither. But he had survived that, he would
survive this!
He dashed through the bushes until he reached another path, and
collecting himself and going back to his lessons learned, he
obediently turned and followed the path. Up past the old outbuildings
until he saw the object of his wrath. There, right in front him, was
the core of the Drug Lord's operation, the Pit! Yes, it was here that
the Drug Lord was gathering his harvest of ground crack, he could see
the machines working through the dust of the dry February heat as they
gathered up all this evil in their bellies and transformed it into the
detestable drugs they sold on the street. Well, not if he could help
it!
Somehow he was going to have to get to their machinery, sabotage it
and then escape unnoticed, which was going to be really hard given
that they already knew he was here.
What would MacGyver have done? How he wished he watched more episodes
of that TV show than what had occupied his time, helping young orphans
get new homes. But that didn't matter now, did it, he'd have to go it
alone. He'd need some equipment and have to come back when they were
least expecting him, like maybe tonight, after supper. He looked for
an escape. He chanced upon a shed that had a motorcycle in it.
It wasn't no superbike or a Harley, but it had two wheels and a gas
tank, so it would do. The fact that it hadn't been ridden in a couple
of years, had no gas and both tires were flat were mostly just irksome
details for a Hero of this stature - he could still push it downhill.
But alas, he was in a river valley and this would not work either. So
much for that clever idea!
So our Hero rushed down the path looking for some means of escape. He
came upon a oil storage shed, and, like MacGyver, endeavoured to
ignite the oil as a distraction to his real escape. Alas, his tools,
the Swiss Army Knife magnifying glass and the flint and steel in his
pocket, were not sufficient to heat up the metallic oil barrels enough
to cause them to rupture and explode. How did MacGyver manage to do
all that he did with just a Zippo lighter, anyway?
But what is this? Next door, in an inverted stance were other oil
barrels. He looked at them. And he kept looking them. Our poor Hero
was in a mild trance. This was so unlike his characteristic behaviour
as a computer geek. And it was starting to overwhelm him. How does a
pasty-faced untanned computer geek end up in a situation like this? He
didn't even have a PDA, his GPS or Blackberry with him. He was like,
well, naked for a geek.
Focus!
"I liked that bright yellow caterpillar," he mused. "It was cute, even
if it is going to cost me my life because I uttered an endearing
utterance that alerted the forces." It all seemed so pointless now, he
was going to die! But not without a fight!
So, gathering all his reserves and intestinal fortitude, he looked at
again at the object in his viewpoint. It was a raft! And there was a
river nearby, all he had to do was get the raft to the river, hop on
it and ride his way to safety. He could come back and fight another
day!
And just as he was getting ready to start pulling the raft to the
nearby river he ...
(Editor: Alas, we have run out of pictures, and without pictures,
which are directing the course of this epic, we must bid thee adieu,
the limitations of a limited directorial budget has once again raised
its eery head.)
I am out of time, and if you had the time to read this, then you
weren't that busy either, right? Feel free to add another paragraph
and submit it to me if you feel so inclined. But I'll bet that you are
about as inspired as I am.
|
|