Sunday, November 13, 2005

Henry and the Warehouse

My name is Henry the Adequate, and I am a superhero.

"Looks like this place was cleaned out in a hurry." June digs into a jumble of packing crates and boxes. "The robotics guy had some pretty heavy machinery delivered here, according to the invoices. Surely they can't have removed it all in only a few hours..."

I survey the abandoned warehouse with my ultra-xray vision. "Hmmm. Strange stress fractures in various parts of the structure." There are also signs of warping in the ceiling, as though some kind of hyperdimensional portal had been opened there.

"Ah, ha!" June is holding up some metallic bits as though they are somehow significant.

Suddenly I realize that something is wrong. Seriously wrong. Desperately wrong. This may mean the end of all good things. Armageddon approaches. Our doom is at hand. "June, we've got to get out of here!" My voice carries the blind terror that is screaming through my brain at this moment. It wails with all the super-pent-up frustration and despair of my epic battle against the forces of darkness. How could I allow it to come to this? I have been so blind.

"Why? What..." June displays a shocked lack of comprehension, as she spins about in a hopeless attempt to see what concerns me so.

"This scene is not even slightly funny! Let's get the hell out of here!"

So we leave. June tells some poo jokes to try and cheer me up, but it is no good. I scream my failure to an unforgiving world. Sorry.

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