Thursday, March 23, 2006

Henry The Rescuer

Today I rescued a damsel in distress.

"My name is Henry the Adequate, and I am here to rescue you."

"From what?"

"Ah clearly you are in a state of shock and/or have a malfunctioning brain. But fear not, for I, Henry the Adequate, shall carry you to safety!"

"Hey! Get your hands off me!! Put me down!!!" I experience a sudden sensation as of being beaten about the face and kicked about the ankles, possibly a result of the fact that the damsel is kicking and screaming and flailing about with her arms for no readily apparent reason. But none of that is important right now. At this moment all that is important is my mission to rescue the damsel from that blazing inferno that blazes blazingly where once an office block proudly stood.

"Do not struggle," I suggest, helpfully.

"Just.... fuck....don't...." For some reason she seems furious beyond the capacity for rational speech. I decide to help the poor distraught woman. Perhaps if I compliment her on her choice of clothing or something like that. Apparently this is a useful technique in dealing with the weaker sex.

"Nice, um, overalls..... Um..... What a huge hose you have." Gee this complimenting business sure is tricky. Perhaps if I get her talking about work things. "Are you a secretary? Or a receptionist?"

"No, I'm a fucking firefighter, you moron! Now put me down!"

Um... "Look, a shiny thing!" I distract her with my superpowers of distraction, because suddenly it seems I am required on the other side of town for a very important mission, and I must be leaving right about now, and I do not want her to get upset or anything, and anyway my work here is done, and.... stuff.

I slip away while nobody is watching, except for those policemen, but they are not very hard to lose because a second office building has suddenly burst into flames for no discernible reason. It's just a total coincidence that it happened right after my flamethrower roared into action. Anyway, the police are distracted by the fire, so I am able to slip away undetected...

But wait! There is a damsel in distress. The poor creature must be hysterical, for she seems to be running toward the fire. There is no time for me to work out why this secretary type is dressed in overalls, and why she is dragging a large hose-like object. No. There is rescuing to be done!

I leap into action like a leaping actionful thing.


Blogger SquareGirl said...

Oh Henry, you are oh so very adequate!...those damsels just don't get that when they are being thrown over the shoulder of an adequate superheroe, they are supposed to swoon...serioulsy, what is wrong with us females...I though we were programmed to swoon...I'm sleepy and I just realized that in the middle of this comment I forgot what your post was bout, but I am certain that is was brilliant! (either that or moronic)

seriously thoug, i began to wrry about your safetey...gladd to read that you're still alive (of course how I could've doubted, you being a superheroe and al is beyond me).

4:59 pm  
Blogger Ben said...

Yes, women today are far too swoonless. The swoonful women of yesteryear would never have put up with all this mucking about doing stuff for yourselves, and stuff.

8:13 pm  
Blogger Lorraine said...

Talk about biting the hand that fires you, ungrateful bitch!
me too, I'm glad you're not dead! I don't know who I'd miss more the superhero or the Damn Good one. I'm torn.

8:16 pm  
Blogger Ben said...

Well I was considering doing a Hotblack...

11:20 pm  
Blogger Lorraine said...

there you go again whispering words of .....Hotblack?

12:10 am  
Blogger Ben said...

Hotblack Desiato. From The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. He spent a year dead for tax reasons.

7:52 am  

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