Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Henry Nicks Time

Suddenly I am three minutes in the past. My head is spinning as though I have just experienced my own gruesome death. There is no time to lose. Only I can save me now.

I hurry outside with all the speed of my superpowered muscles. On the street I notice several pedestrians, and a few parked cars. I examine the scene very carefully, as only a highly trained superheroic observer can, and soon begin to suspect that perhaps something is amiss.

Yes, just over there behind that giant robotic tank-like monster, that damn kitten has gotten itself stuck in the tree again... but wait! Perhaps the giant robotic tank-like monster is also of some small significance. Now that I think about it, the way its massive gun is targeting my house is particularly suspicious.

"Halt, Fiend!!" I roar in my mighty voice, while at the same time furiously preparing my rocket launchers, which have finally been perfected - of this I am almost fifteen percent certain - such that I am probably going to survive their discharge. For I have rather cleverly mounted a launcher on each hip, so that the plasma of their exhaust will be ejected behind me, rather than directly into myself. Unfortunately the time I have spent describing this to you has allowed the monstrous mechanoid to bring its small calibre weapons to bear on me. Thanks for nothing.

I dive for cover behind the nearest vehicle, which is immediately riddled with small-arms fire. "Ha, fiend!" I call defiantly, while at the same time thinking that perhaps inventing some new heroic lines would be a good idea. I leap from cover, sprint, roll, and come up perfectly positioned to launch a volley of deadly missiles directly into the beast's steely underbelly. There is a massive explosion as the rockets find their target. I stand heroically admiring my handiwork while the smoke clears. My enemies, whoever they are, will need to do better than...

But the mechanoid is undamaged, its main gun finally aimed directly at my house, small calibre weapons preparing to cut me to pieces, robotic brain no doubt concocting some fiendish taunt to hurl at my lifeless body as it is cut to shreds by a hail of hot lead.

I search my amazing brain for the correct response. Ah, there it is. "Bugger."

3 Comments:

Blogger Lorraine said...

I wish you had spent more time explaining how cleverly you mounted a launcher on each hip, so that the plasma of their exhaust would be ejected behind you, rather than directly into you.

10:52 pm  
Blogger carouselle10 said...

Good god almighty! Henry, never at a loss for words even in the most dire of straights or straits. Whichever you prefer. I personally prefer Dire Straits. Great rockers.

2:31 am  
Blogger Ben said...

lorraine:
Yes, perhaps a few hundred words more.

carouselle:
"The man's too big. The Man's too strong." Must have been describing Henry. Or possibly that other line: "I’ve run every red light on memory lane, I’ve seen desperation explode into flames"

8:41 am  

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