The Does entered the house, and looked around. They had been expecting a haunted lair, with bats, cobwebs, ghosts, bubbling concoctions, and absolutely no light. What greeted their eyes was a well-lit, well-kept interior, with plush carpeting, fluffy pillows on the loveseat, and the entire living room done in pink. The only bubbling concoction was a tea kettle on the stove, whistling.
The witch began bustling around. “I don’t have visitors very often,” she said with a grin. “I just put some tea on, would you like some?” The Does shook their heads. Who knew what a witch’s definition of tea was? The witch didn’t seem to mind, as she directed them to the loveseat and invited them to sit while she looked up the remedy for Petey’s...condition.
The witch put some light jazz on the stereo and plopped down in a recliner. She began to flip through a big, evil looking book with very large and old pages. The Does sat uncomfortably for a few minutes as she searched, muttering to herself all the while.
Finally, she exclaimed “Aha!” and pointed to a page. “Here we go,” she said excitedly. “’Should you mistakenly say poodle instead of dachshund in the cabbage spell, and actually want to reverse it, you will need to immediately fix the following potion:
1. First. add each of the following ingredients (in no particular order) to a standard size cauldron filled to 3/4 of its capacity with boiling water:
10 oz eye of newt
3 toenail clippings of a unicorn
2 inches of dragon scalp hair
1 rhinoceros horn
2 cups of flour
3 eggs (shells and all)
1 mermaid scale
1 live squid
2. Once all of the above ingredients have been added, stir well for exactly fifteen minutes. Any more or less is highly dangerous and will void any guarantees made by the Witch’s Association of America as to the merit of this mixture.
3. At the exact fifteen minute mark, add one article of the victim’s clothing. TIP: It is probably best to have a partner to add this final ingredient to make sure the timing is right.
4. Finally, repeat the cabbage incantation backwards. The victim will be restored to the mortal realm, none the worse for the wear and completely unaware of what has just happened.’”
The witch stopped reading and smiled at the Does. “Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it?” She glanced back at the book and read the final paragraph.
“WARNING: This potion must be completed within forty-eight hours of the spell’s original incantation. Failure to do so, or failure to complete the potion properly will result in the return of the victim as a hideous bloodthirsty gargoyle bent on world destruction. And he/she will most likely succeed. So don’t screw up.”
There was a deafening silence as the witch stopped reading. Seconds ticked by. The witch finally looked up and smiled feebly at the horrified Does. “Well,” she said, attempting to sound optimistic and failing miserably. “I suppose we should get started.”
That’s when Jane started screaming. She couldn’t take it anymore. Her baby was going to turn into a gargoyle and destroy the world, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. John wrapped his arms around his terrified wife and glared at the witch. “Well?” he demanded. “Where do you keep those ingredients?”
The witch avoided his eyes. “Umm...,” she mumbled. “I don’t...exactly...HAVE... all the of them.”
John looked upset. “OK...what do you have?”
The witch suddenly became very interested with a loose thread on her cloak. She mumbled something that John couldn’t quite make out. “What?” he barked.
The witch sighed. Still avoiding his eyes, she clearly stated, “Eggs and flour.”
Jane stopped screaming at this point and stared at the witch in disbelief. “You’re a witch!” John sputtered. “And you don’t have ANY of that stuff?!?”
“Well, it’s not very common, is it?” the witch snapped irritably. “Sorry if I wasn’t planning on bringing anybody back from purgatory today. Anyway, most of it’ll be easy enough to get. Eye of newt is sold at every single Which Witch store on the planet. For the rhino horn, all we have to do is go to the zoo and collect one. Live squid can be found at the aquarium...or maybe the ocean, when we pick up the mermaid scale. That should be easy. Very pleasant, Mers, unless you catch them in one of their moods, then they’ll try to lure you to a watery grave. We should take a gift for them as well...” She trailed off.
“And the rest?” Jack pressed as Jane began sobbing into his shoulder.
“Welllll...” the witch said slowly. “Unicorns don’t clip their toenails. We have to find one and clip it for him. Means I should pick up some unicorn toenail clippers at Which Witch. And they’re not easy to catch. I guess I should get some snodgrass as well. They like to eat that stuff.”
“Snodgrass?” Jane sniffled.
The witch nodded, preoccupied. “And no one’s ever been able to get close enough to a dragon to cut off its hair and mass produce it, so we’ll have to get some of that from the source as well. Nasty creatures, dragons.”
John and Jane didn’t know what to say. They just sat there with their mouths open, hardly daring to believe what they had just heard. Dragon hair? Unicorn toenails? Mermaid scales? But weren’t those animals...make believe?
The witch, however, looked more optimistic. “OK, that’s the plan. We need to get going...we’ve already wasted twenty minutes.”
“Wait a second!” exclaimed John. “What do you mean, WE?”
The witch looked angry. “Look here, buster,” she snarled. “I made a mistake. I admit it. I apologize. But I’m trying to make up for it. Dragons, unicorns and mermaids are not to be trifled with. One person has no chance, even if she knows what’s she’s doing. Three people have an excellent chance, even if two of them haven’t a clue. If you don’t want to help, fine. We’ll just see how you feel when your baby comes back as a hideous bloodthirsty gargoyle bent on world destruction. I don’t have to help you. I’m a witch. Nobody likes a witch anyway, so I have nothing to lose.”
“Except your life when Petey comes back as a hideous bloodthirsty gargoyle bent on world destruction,” muttered John as Jane burst into fresh torrents of sobbing.
“Exactly,” said the witch. “So, are you in, or shall we just sit on the porch and wait for the apocalypse?”
It was a pretty convincing argument. Within five minutes, they had clambered onto the witch’s broomstick (better gas mileage and the convenience of flying rather than sitting around in traffic all afternoon) and were off to Which Witch.
NEXT: Collecting Materials
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Once Upon A Time, part I
Once upon a time, there lived a husband and wife, henceforth to be referred to as John and Jane Doe (and no, I’m not trying to protect anyone’s identities - those were actually their names. You should have seen some of the strange looks they got when they tried to check into motels). They, along with their one year old son Petey, lived a nearly perfect life in a nearly perfect cottage in a nearly perfect neighborhood.
What wasn’t so perfect about it was the witch who lived next door.
It’s not that she was a bad witch. In fact, she was a very nice witch, with the standard green skin and warts on her nose that came with the territory. And yet, because she was a witch, people hated her and feared her. They hid when they saw her coming down the street and hissed obscenities at her when she passed. This hurt her, because, after all, witches have feelings too. It was all because they were afraid she would eat their children. Nonsense! She didn’t even like children! Oh, maybe one or two when she was out with the coven, but she knew her limits and always let somebody else fly the broomstick afterwards.
All this unfounded hatred had turned her into a very sour witch. It didn’t matter how nice she tried to be to people, they would never reciprocate. So, she stopped trying.
One day, she was rocking on her porch, feeling miserable, when the Doe family walked by, with Petey in a carriage.
“Hello,” the witch called feebly. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
John and Jane looked up in horror. They had purposefully been trying to avoid eye contact with the witch so she would maybe not notice their presence. But she had. And so, they quickened their pace, trying to get away.
Exasperated, the witch began muttering to herself. She didn’t realize what she had done until she finished.
“Bibbity bobbity boo...chicken noodle stew
Poodles love their underwear and little children too
Monkey brains and choo choo trains and toads and frogs and newts
Panda bears and moving stairs and double breasted suits.”
And, with a puff of smoke, Petey was gone. Disappeared.
Horrified, John turned to the witch. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH OUR SON?!?!?”
The witch looked mystified. “I...I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to...I mean...he’s gone? How...that was the cabbage spell...”
“The CABBAGE spell?” demanded Jane.
“Yes,” the witch replied. “Just turns the victim into a cabbage for five minutes. No lasting effects, and fully reversible. Must have done something wrong...maybe it was the poodle that did it...” She started muttering to herself and disappeared inside her house.
John and Jane stood helplessly at her gate for four minutes before she emerged, smiling. “Yep, it was the poodle,” she chuckled. “Silly me, I was supposed to say ‘dachshund’. I can never remember that. Very lucky however that I didn’t say ‘schnauzer’.”
“Why is that?” Jane asked.
“Well, besides the fact that it would have killed him,” the witch explained, “he would have come back as a zombie. Very friendly folk, zombies, except that they have this unnatural obsession with the consumption of human brains.”
“Yeah,” grumbled John. “I guess that would be bad. But where is Petey now?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much,” the witch replied cheerily. “He’s in purgatory somewhere, waiting to be called back by a special potion. The recipe’s right here in the book. Won’t you come in while I look it up?”
NEXT: The Plan
What wasn’t so perfect about it was the witch who lived next door.
It’s not that she was a bad witch. In fact, she was a very nice witch, with the standard green skin and warts on her nose that came with the territory. And yet, because she was a witch, people hated her and feared her. They hid when they saw her coming down the street and hissed obscenities at her when she passed. This hurt her, because, after all, witches have feelings too. It was all because they were afraid she would eat their children. Nonsense! She didn’t even like children! Oh, maybe one or two when she was out with the coven, but she knew her limits and always let somebody else fly the broomstick afterwards.
All this unfounded hatred had turned her into a very sour witch. It didn’t matter how nice she tried to be to people, they would never reciprocate. So, she stopped trying.
One day, she was rocking on her porch, feeling miserable, when the Doe family walked by, with Petey in a carriage.
“Hello,” the witch called feebly. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
John and Jane looked up in horror. They had purposefully been trying to avoid eye contact with the witch so she would maybe not notice their presence. But she had. And so, they quickened their pace, trying to get away.
Exasperated, the witch began muttering to herself. She didn’t realize what she had done until she finished.
“Bibbity bobbity boo...chicken noodle stew
Poodles love their underwear and little children too
Monkey brains and choo choo trains and toads and frogs and newts
Panda bears and moving stairs and double breasted suits.”
And, with a puff of smoke, Petey was gone. Disappeared.
Horrified, John turned to the witch. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH OUR SON?!?!?”
The witch looked mystified. “I...I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to...I mean...he’s gone? How...that was the cabbage spell...”
“The CABBAGE spell?” demanded Jane.
“Yes,” the witch replied. “Just turns the victim into a cabbage for five minutes. No lasting effects, and fully reversible. Must have done something wrong...maybe it was the poodle that did it...” She started muttering to herself and disappeared inside her house.
John and Jane stood helplessly at her gate for four minutes before she emerged, smiling. “Yep, it was the poodle,” she chuckled. “Silly me, I was supposed to say ‘dachshund’. I can never remember that. Very lucky however that I didn’t say ‘schnauzer’.”
“Why is that?” Jane asked.
“Well, besides the fact that it would have killed him,” the witch explained, “he would have come back as a zombie. Very friendly folk, zombies, except that they have this unnatural obsession with the consumption of human brains.”
“Yeah,” grumbled John. “I guess that would be bad. But where is Petey now?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much,” the witch replied cheerily. “He’s in purgatory somewhere, waiting to be called back by a special potion. The recipe’s right here in the book. Won’t you come in while I look it up?”
NEXT: The Plan
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Ambushed, part VII
The prank was going quite well so far, Harvey Rossel thought. The producers of Ambushed! had been approached by Lucy Davis right around the time of the previous season finale. Lucy's boyfriend, Mark Schroeder, had never seen the show, and she had a great idea for a prank. The producers loved the idea, and agreed to it. Now, it was being implemented. Here's what had happened.
Lucy and Mark had arrived at the restaurant, and waited for a table. While Lucy went to the bathroom, another young man (Vincent, a conspirator) had told Mark that he was proposing that night. He had asked the staff to plant the ring in her cheesecake. Mark asked if she might swallow it by accident, and Vincent said no, she took very tiny bites.
Mark and Lucy's table just "happened" to be near the table of Vincent and his girlfriend, Susannah. When the waiter asked Mark and Lucy if they wanted dessert, Lucy asked for cheesecake. Mark didn't want anything.
The desserts at the two tables were delivered at the same time. Mark told Lucy to watch Vincent's table. Lucy did, but ate her cheesecake in the meantime.
Mark was watching Susannah finish her cheesecake, and Vincent's troubled expression, when he heard a gasp from Lucy. He looked, and she was holding the ring. "YES!" she squealed in delight. "I'll marry you! I will! YESYESYES!"
Mark's eyes were wide. "N...n..." he stuttered, looking at Vincent. Vincent's look of shock at Lucy's outburst had turned into one of rage.
"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU!!!" Vincent screamed, jumping from his seat. "I TELL YOU WHAT I'M PLANNING, AND YOU DECIDE TO STEAL MY IDEA AND MY RING? HOW DARE YOU?"
"N...n..." stuttered Mark.
"Wait," Susannah said angrily. "That was supposed to be my ring? Buried in the cheesecake? Are you trying to kill me?"
"No," said Vincent. "I..."
"YOU KNOW WHAT BIG BITES I TAKE!" screamed Susannah, standing up and throwing her napkin to the floor. "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" And she stormed from the restaurant.
Vincent stared after her for a moment, then slowly turned to Mark. "You're dead," he hissed. "I will hunt you down and kill you. Watch your back." Then he ran out of the restaurant after Susannah.
Mark looked at Lucy, who was staring at him in shock. "Then this wasn't for me?" she asked.
Mark shook his head.
Lucy began to cry. It was all very convincing, Harvey thought. And to add the finishing touch, she began to wail, "WE'VE BEEN DATING FOR FIVE YEARS! IF YOU CAN'T MARRY ME, THEN I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" And she too fled the restaurant.
Mark sat, mouth hanging open. Harvey pitied him a bit, but he'd know it was all a joke momentarily. Harvey was dressed as a waiter on this night, and walked over to where Mark was sitting.
"Wow," Harvey said. "That stinks."
Mark looked at him. "You could say that," he replied. "I ruined two relationships tonight. That guy is going to kill me. I'm never going to see Lucy again. I feel like shooting myself."
Harvey nodded sympathetically. "Well, before you do that..."
"In fact," Mark interrupted, "I've got a gun in the car. Excuse me." And he bolted from the restaurant.
"NO, WAIT!" yelled Harvey, but Mark was already halfway out of the restaurant. Harvey was terrified, and ran after him. "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, IT WAS..."
An old lady stepped in front of him. "You're from that awful Ambush! show, aren't you?"
"Yes, but..." stammered Harvey, trying despearately to get around her.
"I saw what you did to that poor man last season," the old lady persisted. "Now you're trying to ruin someone else's life. How dare you?"
"Lady," Harvey said, angrily. "If you don't get out of my way..."
A blast was heard from outside. Harvey stopped in shock. "Goodness!" said the old lady. "What was that?"
Harvey pushed past her and ran outside. A crowd was huddled by the cars. Harvey ran over, visions of lawsuits and jail time in his head. The show was done. His career was finished. His life, as he knew it, was over. He pushed his way through and saw the corpse, lying on the ground, surrounded by dark red liquid.
But then the corpse stirred. It pushed up, and stood with its back to Harvey. Then it turned its blood stained face to him.
It was Phil Dundermann.
From the crowd, Vincent and Susannah, married for fifteen years and old college friends of Phil, grinned at Harvey with their arms around each other. Lucy and Mark, who had gone to elementary school with Phil and still maintained close ties, were stifling their laughter. Even Phil's mom, who had so effectively kept Harvey from coming out of the restaurant too early, had come out to join the fun.
Phil brushed some of the ketchup off his face, and said, with an evil grin, "Surprise. You've been Ambushed."
The crowd threw confetti in the air, and everyone laughed. Everyone, that is, except Harvey Rossel.
THE END
Lucy and Mark had arrived at the restaurant, and waited for a table. While Lucy went to the bathroom, another young man (Vincent, a conspirator) had told Mark that he was proposing that night. He had asked the staff to plant the ring in her cheesecake. Mark asked if she might swallow it by accident, and Vincent said no, she took very tiny bites.
Mark and Lucy's table just "happened" to be near the table of Vincent and his girlfriend, Susannah. When the waiter asked Mark and Lucy if they wanted dessert, Lucy asked for cheesecake. Mark didn't want anything.
The desserts at the two tables were delivered at the same time. Mark told Lucy to watch Vincent's table. Lucy did, but ate her cheesecake in the meantime.
Mark was watching Susannah finish her cheesecake, and Vincent's troubled expression, when he heard a gasp from Lucy. He looked, and she was holding the ring. "YES!" she squealed in delight. "I'll marry you! I will! YESYESYES!"
Mark's eyes were wide. "N...n..." he stuttered, looking at Vincent. Vincent's look of shock at Lucy's outburst had turned into one of rage.
"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU!!!" Vincent screamed, jumping from his seat. "I TELL YOU WHAT I'M PLANNING, AND YOU DECIDE TO STEAL MY IDEA AND MY RING? HOW DARE YOU?"
"N...n..." stuttered Mark.
"Wait," Susannah said angrily. "That was supposed to be my ring? Buried in the cheesecake? Are you trying to kill me?"
"No," said Vincent. "I..."
"YOU KNOW WHAT BIG BITES I TAKE!" screamed Susannah, standing up and throwing her napkin to the floor. "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" And she stormed from the restaurant.
Vincent stared after her for a moment, then slowly turned to Mark. "You're dead," he hissed. "I will hunt you down and kill you. Watch your back." Then he ran out of the restaurant after Susannah.
Mark looked at Lucy, who was staring at him in shock. "Then this wasn't for me?" she asked.
Mark shook his head.
Lucy began to cry. It was all very convincing, Harvey thought. And to add the finishing touch, she began to wail, "WE'VE BEEN DATING FOR FIVE YEARS! IF YOU CAN'T MARRY ME, THEN I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" And she too fled the restaurant.
Mark sat, mouth hanging open. Harvey pitied him a bit, but he'd know it was all a joke momentarily. Harvey was dressed as a waiter on this night, and walked over to where Mark was sitting.
"Wow," Harvey said. "That stinks."
Mark looked at him. "You could say that," he replied. "I ruined two relationships tonight. That guy is going to kill me. I'm never going to see Lucy again. I feel like shooting myself."
Harvey nodded sympathetically. "Well, before you do that..."
"In fact," Mark interrupted, "I've got a gun in the car. Excuse me." And he bolted from the restaurant.
"NO, WAIT!" yelled Harvey, but Mark was already halfway out of the restaurant. Harvey was terrified, and ran after him. "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, IT WAS..."
An old lady stepped in front of him. "You're from that awful Ambush! show, aren't you?"
"Yes, but..." stammered Harvey, trying despearately to get around her.
"I saw what you did to that poor man last season," the old lady persisted. "Now you're trying to ruin someone else's life. How dare you?"
"Lady," Harvey said, angrily. "If you don't get out of my way..."
A blast was heard from outside. Harvey stopped in shock. "Goodness!" said the old lady. "What was that?"
Harvey pushed past her and ran outside. A crowd was huddled by the cars. Harvey ran over, visions of lawsuits and jail time in his head. The show was done. His career was finished. His life, as he knew it, was over. He pushed his way through and saw the corpse, lying on the ground, surrounded by dark red liquid.
But then the corpse stirred. It pushed up, and stood with its back to Harvey. Then it turned its blood stained face to him.
It was Phil Dundermann.
From the crowd, Vincent and Susannah, married for fifteen years and old college friends of Phil, grinned at Harvey with their arms around each other. Lucy and Mark, who had gone to elementary school with Phil and still maintained close ties, were stifling their laughter. Even Phil's mom, who had so effectively kept Harvey from coming out of the restaurant too early, had come out to join the fun.
Phil brushed some of the ketchup off his face, and said, with an evil grin, "Surprise. You've been Ambushed."
The crowd threw confetti in the air, and everyone laughed. Everyone, that is, except Harvey Rossel.
THE END
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Ambushed, part VI
Phil woke in a darkened room. He was lying in a bed. He had no idea where he was. There were beeps all around. Somewhere, he could hear talking. A door opened, and a woman in blue walked in.
"He's awake!" she called into the hall, and came to his side. "How are you feeling, Mr. Dundermann?"
Phil shut his eyes tightly and opened them again. "Where am I? What happened?"
The nurse was checking his pulse. "You were in a very bad car accident. You've been unconscious for the last five months. This is the hospital."
"Unconscious?" asked Phil, trying to remember. He could remember standing on Frank's porch, looking at his house, with that taxi...then he couldn't remember anything else. He certainly didn't remember a car crash, though that taxi ride was miraculously accident free.
"Was I ever...I mean, have you heard of a show called Ambush?" Phil asked.
The nurse shook her head. "I don't really watch much TV," she said, then walked out of the room.
Phil rested his head on the pillow. If he had been in a car accident, then it stood to reason that the whole Ambush! fiasco had been a very very bad dream. He could accept that. No way could people be that cruel to...
The lights turned on, the walls lifted, and Phil saw that he was not in a hospital room at all, but right smack in the middle of a roller skating rink. People began skating around him as "Dancing Queen" started playing over the PA system. Confetti was falling from the ceiling, and Phil saw a huge banner that said, "SURPRISE! YOU'VE BEEN AMBUSHED!" And everyone was laughing.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Phil disguised himself, and attended the taping of the season finale for Ambush! The entire episode was dedicated to him. They started out with a recap of the restaurant prank, and an interview with Harvey Rossel saying they had really just picked Phil randomly. However, they were so happy with his reaction, they decided to see just how far they could push him, which led to the parking garage prank. They had towed Phil's car from place to place. During this prank, the attendant had swiped Phil's keys, and they had made a quick copy of his house key. They showed the redecorating prank, along with pictures of Phil fast asleep in bed, unaware that anyone was filming him.
After that, they showed his latest mishaps, along with explanations of how each was pulled off. The package prank was the easiest to do, partly because it was such an old joke. In the elevator, the original plan was to have them get stuck and Phil deliver the baby (the woman was Harvey Rossel's wife, and really was pregnant). But Phil had called them on it, so they went to Plan B - deny pregnancy and just play with the elevator. The taxi stunt was, of course, the most elaborate prank Ambushed! had ever attempted, and it worked beautifully. They hired ten stunt taxi drivers, assuming (correctly) that Phil would be suspicious and probably wouldn't take the first few that went by. All other taxis in town had been instructed not to pick him up. The taxi driver had driven to a part of town that had been sectioned off to accomodate the car chase. No one had been injured, all crashes were planned, and the effect, when seen on film, was very striking.
Of course, there were plenty of shots of Phil looking bemused and bewildered through the whole thing. It was explained that the fainting episode Phil experienced was unplanned, but since he appeared to be OK (just overstressed), they decided to pull one final prank on him...the waking up in the fake hospital.
After all had been shown, Harvey Rossel told the audience that they were retiring old Phil from the show. No no, he said when the crowd booed a little. Phil was a good sport, and a good guy, and it was time he got left alone. The show ended, and everyone left.
Phil didn't believe it. He knew this was a ploy to get his defenses down. He knew they would be after him again. They may wait a few months, but they'd be back. This was now personal. There was only one way to stop the madness, and Phil had a plan.
NEXT: A New Victim
"He's awake!" she called into the hall, and came to his side. "How are you feeling, Mr. Dundermann?"
Phil shut his eyes tightly and opened them again. "Where am I? What happened?"
The nurse was checking his pulse. "You were in a very bad car accident. You've been unconscious for the last five months. This is the hospital."
"Unconscious?" asked Phil, trying to remember. He could remember standing on Frank's porch, looking at his house, with that taxi...then he couldn't remember anything else. He certainly didn't remember a car crash, though that taxi ride was miraculously accident free.
"Was I ever...I mean, have you heard of a show called Ambush?" Phil asked.
The nurse shook her head. "I don't really watch much TV," she said, then walked out of the room.
Phil rested his head on the pillow. If he had been in a car accident, then it stood to reason that the whole Ambush! fiasco had been a very very bad dream. He could accept that. No way could people be that cruel to...
The lights turned on, the walls lifted, and Phil saw that he was not in a hospital room at all, but right smack in the middle of a roller skating rink. People began skating around him as "Dancing Queen" started playing over the PA system. Confetti was falling from the ceiling, and Phil saw a huge banner that said, "SURPRISE! YOU'VE BEEN AMBUSHED!" And everyone was laughing.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Phil disguised himself, and attended the taping of the season finale for Ambush! The entire episode was dedicated to him. They started out with a recap of the restaurant prank, and an interview with Harvey Rossel saying they had really just picked Phil randomly. However, they were so happy with his reaction, they decided to see just how far they could push him, which led to the parking garage prank. They had towed Phil's car from place to place. During this prank, the attendant had swiped Phil's keys, and they had made a quick copy of his house key. They showed the redecorating prank, along with pictures of Phil fast asleep in bed, unaware that anyone was filming him.
After that, they showed his latest mishaps, along with explanations of how each was pulled off. The package prank was the easiest to do, partly because it was such an old joke. In the elevator, the original plan was to have them get stuck and Phil deliver the baby (the woman was Harvey Rossel's wife, and really was pregnant). But Phil had called them on it, so they went to Plan B - deny pregnancy and just play with the elevator. The taxi stunt was, of course, the most elaborate prank Ambushed! had ever attempted, and it worked beautifully. They hired ten stunt taxi drivers, assuming (correctly) that Phil would be suspicious and probably wouldn't take the first few that went by. All other taxis in town had been instructed not to pick him up. The taxi driver had driven to a part of town that had been sectioned off to accomodate the car chase. No one had been injured, all crashes were planned, and the effect, when seen on film, was very striking.
Of course, there were plenty of shots of Phil looking bemused and bewildered through the whole thing. It was explained that the fainting episode Phil experienced was unplanned, but since he appeared to be OK (just overstressed), they decided to pull one final prank on him...the waking up in the fake hospital.
After all had been shown, Harvey Rossel told the audience that they were retiring old Phil from the show. No no, he said when the crowd booed a little. Phil was a good sport, and a good guy, and it was time he got left alone. The show ended, and everyone left.
Phil didn't believe it. He knew this was a ploy to get his defenses down. He knew they would be after him again. They may wait a few months, but they'd be back. This was now personal. There was only one way to stop the madness, and Phil had a plan.
NEXT: A New Victim
Monday, April 14, 2008
Ambushed, part V
Phil ran to the street and hailed a cab. No way was he going to his car today. As he was climbing into the taxi, he realized that the Ambushed! people probably expected this, and this cab was probably in on the joke. So he got out and waved it on.
He waved on the next five taxis, and finally got in the seventh. He told it to take him to his house and gave the address. As the cab driver drove down the street, he looked in the rearview mirror and said, "Hey, aren't you that guy..."
"NO!" screamed Phil. "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT RIGHT NOW!"
"Relax, pal," said the driver. "I just thought you looked a little like that guy from that movie. You know, the one with the chimp that was running a gym?"
"The one with the chimp that was running a gym?" asked Phil, somewhat relieved."Yeah!" said the driver enthusiastically and spent the next ten minutes telling Phil the plot of what was apparently his favorite movie. Phil leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
"Hey," the driver said suddenly. "You know those guys?"
Phil turned and saw a white van behind the cab. Fear filled his heart. "I don't know," he said.
The cabbie shrugged. "They've been behind us since I picked you up."
The taxi turned right, and Phil could see the logo imprinted on the side of the van. AMBUSH!
"No, oh no," he moaned. "Can you lose them?"
"Thought you'd never ask," said the cabbie, and took off. Phil had to hold on to make sre he wasn't thrown against the sides of the car as the taxi sped down the crowded city streets. On several occasions, Phil was sure he would die when oncoming traffic looked primed to crash into the cab head on, but the cabbie knew what he was doing, and death was avoided by mere centimeters every time.
Behind the taxi, however, the van was keeping pace. Phil was more scared than he had ever been, and said, "Maybe we should just stop and see what they want."
"No way, Cletus," said the cabbie. "Those punks messed with the wrong taxi."
The cabbie cut left sharply to avoid a collision with an oncoming semi. However, the van was not as lucky. It missed the semi, veered off the road and crashed into the side of a building.
"We have to go back!" shouted Phil. "They may be hurt!"
"Too late," said the cabbie as three cop cars appeared, sirens blazing, chasing the taxi. The cabbie led them on a merry chase for several miles, then did a nifty u-turn on a bridge that sent the cop cars sailing over the edge and into the river below.
Phil was horrified. He couldn't believe what had just happened. It was so surreal, and the cabbie was so calm.
Now unpursued, the cab headed for Phil's house. When it got there, the cabbie insisted that there was no charge. "Never had more fun," he said. "Besides, they have my cab number now, I'm going to have to run for it. It was a pleasure." Phil got out, and started to walk towards his house. The cabbie called after him. "Hey! Phil!"
Phil had known this was coming. The cabbie was too calm, there were no apparent repercussions, and besides, he had never told the cabbie his name. He gritted his teeth and turned around.
"Surprise! You've been Ambushed!" the cabbie yelled happily. Confetti shot from the roof of his vehicle. Phil grimaced, turned and walked up to his house.
His key didn't work. Perfect. He pounded on the door, and sure enough, a guy opened the door. "May I help you?"
Phil nodded. "Yeah, this is my house, and you're going to tell me it's actually your house, and I'll insist that it's mine, and then you'll embarrass me, and then you'll tell me I've been Ambushed. I've had a hard day, can you just let me inside?"
The man looked confused. "Phil, it's me, Frank," Frank said. "Your house is on the other side of the street."
Phil looked. Yep, there it was. The taxi was spewing confetti, and the driver was laughing hard, pounding the steering wheel. Phil decided then that he couldn't handle it anymore. He passed out right there on Frank's stoop.
NEXT: It's Over?
Friday, April 11, 2008
Ambushed, part IV
For about a month, nothing happened. Phil went to work, got mocked endlessly, jumped at small noises, spoke to no one he didn't know, kept himself completely to his routine without allowing any deviation, and in general became a recluse. His house had become something of a tourist spot, with people stopping to take pictures, ringing the doorbell to see if they could come in and see what he had done with the place, honking their horns in the middle of the night, and so on. Phil was deperately trying to find out what legal action he could take, but he was frightened that any lawyer he spoke to would be under the employ of Ambush!
One day, as Phil was working at his desk, he received a package. After Phil had signed the form, the delivery man said, "Hey, aren't you that guy..."
"No," snapped Phil. "Goodbye." And he ripped open the package.
Plastic snakes flew out, and Phil jumped back in fear. It took him a second to realize what had just happened.
"Surprise!" said the delivery guy. "You've been Ambushed!"
Confetti fell from the ceiling and everyone around Phil's cubicle laughed. Phil stood, looked the delivery man right in the eye, and screamed. Loudly. For a long time. Then he grabbed his briefcase, and headed for the elevator. The camel's back had been broken. He would move to some third world country where no one had a television.
The elevator doors opened, and Phil stepped inside. One floor down, the doors opened again, and a large woman walked in.
"Oh, har de har har," snarled Phil. "Let me guess...the elevator will get stuck and I'll have to deliver your baby, right? How original."
The woman looked offended. "I'm not pregnant."
"OH!" said Phil, aghast. "I'm so sorry! I..."
They reached the woman's floor. After she got back, she looked at him and said, "Hey, aren't you that guy..."
"NO!" yelled Phil, as the doors closed. However, instead of heading down, the elevator went up.
"HEY, YOU STUPID ELEVATOR!" Phil screamed, and hit the doors. The elevator stopped, and the alarm went off. "Nononono, that's not what I wanted to you to do! Shh! SSSHHH!!!" The alarm stopped, but the elevator did not move. Phil wondered if he had hurt the elevator's feelings, then wondered if he had lost his mind.
The elevator started up again, moving downward, but very slowly. Phil got the impression that it was sulking. Finally, it arrived on the first floor and the doors opened. However, Phil found that he was actually halfway between the first floor and the basement. He could see people's feet moving around at eye level. He waited until the doors shut, then hit the first floor button again. The doors opened, but the elevator had not moved fropm its previous position. Grumbling, Phil climbed out to the first floor.
Standing in front of him was the large woman and the elevator technician. They were laughing. "Surprise!" the woman said. "You've been Ambushed!"
Confetti fell, and everyone laughed, but Phil was too busy speeding out of the building to notice.
NEXT: The Fun Continues
One day, as Phil was working at his desk, he received a package. After Phil had signed the form, the delivery man said, "Hey, aren't you that guy..."
"No," snapped Phil. "Goodbye." And he ripped open the package.
Plastic snakes flew out, and Phil jumped back in fear. It took him a second to realize what had just happened.
"Surprise!" said the delivery guy. "You've been Ambushed!"
Confetti fell from the ceiling and everyone around Phil's cubicle laughed. Phil stood, looked the delivery man right in the eye, and screamed. Loudly. For a long time. Then he grabbed his briefcase, and headed for the elevator. The camel's back had been broken. He would move to some third world country where no one had a television.
The elevator doors opened, and Phil stepped inside. One floor down, the doors opened again, and a large woman walked in.
"Oh, har de har har," snarled Phil. "Let me guess...the elevator will get stuck and I'll have to deliver your baby, right? How original."
The woman looked offended. "I'm not pregnant."
"OH!" said Phil, aghast. "I'm so sorry! I..."
They reached the woman's floor. After she got back, she looked at him and said, "Hey, aren't you that guy..."
"NO!" yelled Phil, as the doors closed. However, instead of heading down, the elevator went up.
"HEY, YOU STUPID ELEVATOR!" Phil screamed, and hit the doors. The elevator stopped, and the alarm went off. "Nononono, that's not what I wanted to you to do! Shh! SSSHHH!!!" The alarm stopped, but the elevator did not move. Phil wondered if he had hurt the elevator's feelings, then wondered if he had lost his mind.
The elevator started up again, moving downward, but very slowly. Phil got the impression that it was sulking. Finally, it arrived on the first floor and the doors opened. However, Phil found that he was actually halfway between the first floor and the basement. He could see people's feet moving around at eye level. He waited until the doors shut, then hit the first floor button again. The doors opened, but the elevator had not moved fropm its previous position. Grumbling, Phil climbed out to the first floor.
Standing in front of him was the large woman and the elevator technician. They were laughing. "Surprise!" the woman said. "You've been Ambushed!"
Confetti fell, and everyone laughed, but Phil was too busy speeding out of the building to notice.
NEXT: The Fun Continues
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Ambushed, part III
In the week before Phil's next appearance on Ambush!, the producers started running commericals announcing "the return of an old favorite", complete with a flash of Phil's face looking utterly bewildered. Phil didn't see the ads right away, but heard all about them at work. He considered going into hiding again, but decided it would be too transparent.
On the day before the episode was scheduled to run, Phil accidentally overslept. For some reason, his alarm didn't go off in the night. He called in to say that he was running a little behind, and his boss said it was fine.
Before Phil could start his day, he had to have his coffee and read the newspaper. It was his routine, and he wasn't going to change it just because he was running behind. So, he trudged out his driveway to where the paper lay. He didn't notice the van parked across the street.
Phil picked up his paper, stood and turned around, to find two people blocking his way. An immaculately primped woman holding a microphone, and a shabby man holding a camera.
The woman began speaking rapidly to the camera. "This is Penelope Chatter-Bachs, and I have with me Mr. Phil Dundermann, a man who has been thoroughly humiliated by the hit television show 'Ambush!' several times now. Thank you for agreeing to speak with us, Mr. Dundermann."
"What?" said Phil.
"Of course, we have followed your trials and tribulations very closely," said Chatter-Bachs, "and I must say that it is totally reprehensible the way Ambush! has treated you."
"YES!" exploded Phil. "Why do I have to get picked on? It makes no sense!"
"Absolutely!" said Chatter-Bachs. "We thought we'd give our viewers a detailed look at the real Phil Dundermann, man of passion, grace, and humility."
"Well, I don't know..." mumbled Phil. "I'm actually late for work."
"This won't take five minutes," said Chatter-Bachs. "So, this is your house?"
"Yes," said Phil. "I've lived here for five years..."
"Let's take a look!" said Chatter-Bachs, and she and the cameraman charged towards his front door, which was standing wide open. Phil watched them, then rushed after them, not liking this at all.
"Well, I must say," Chatter-Bachs was saying as Phil rushed in the door. "This is not at all what I expected."
They were standing in front of the living room. Phil looked in, and had to stifle a scream. The whole living room was pink. Lacy curtains adorned the windows, and pictures of kittens and puppies covered the walls that were now layered with bright pink flowery wallpaper. The sofa and easy chair now had fluffy pink pillows on them, and the coffee table was festooned with pictures of Martha Stewart.
"And what do we have here?" asked Chatter-Bachs, already in the kitchen with the cameraman. Phil rushed after them to find that the kitchen was completely trashed. Food, dirty dishes, and trash were everywhere. Phil was shocked...he always strove to be as neat as possible. How had this happened?
"Oh, and is that your dog?" asked Chatter-Bachs. Phil looked to see Floyd, his rottweiller, sitting mournfully in the back yard wearing a tutu and a tiara.
It had taken him this long, being early morning and all, but Phil finally put two and two together. He hung his head, and turned to face the camera. He almost mouthed the words along with Penelope Chatter-Bachs.
"Surprise!" she said. "You've been Ambushed!"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Phil watched the whole thing, along with the confetti and aftermath on a special episode of Celeb Mania!, the tabloid show that aired right before Ambush! Penelope Chatter-Bachs was a real correspondant, and the show featured her exclusive story and interview with Harvey Rossel. Rossel was the man behind Ambush!, and had even played the manager in their first prank on Phil. The purpose of the interview was to tease the show, but Rossel explained a few things for the audience. They had gotten the keys to Phil's house in the parking garage prank, and had turned off his alarm so he would sleep in. They had, of course, cleared it with his boss first. Wouldn't want to get the poor guy fired. They had silently redecorated in the night, and had taken pictures to record their movements, which would be shown on Ambush! that evening. Phil was a good sport, Harvey said, and he didn't mind. This, Phil thought, was a lie, but he decided he shouldn't have pretended to be such a good sport the first time.
To close out the interview, before Ambush! showed Phil's latest humiliation, Rossel made a statement that made Phil's stomach do flip flops.
"I think it's safe to say that we haven't seen the last of Mr. Dundermann," Rossel said. "I think the best is yet to come."
NEXT: That Depends On Your Definition Of "The Best"
On the day before the episode was scheduled to run, Phil accidentally overslept. For some reason, his alarm didn't go off in the night. He called in to say that he was running a little behind, and his boss said it was fine.
Before Phil could start his day, he had to have his coffee and read the newspaper. It was his routine, and he wasn't going to change it just because he was running behind. So, he trudged out his driveway to where the paper lay. He didn't notice the van parked across the street.
Phil picked up his paper, stood and turned around, to find two people blocking his way. An immaculately primped woman holding a microphone, and a shabby man holding a camera.
The woman began speaking rapidly to the camera. "This is Penelope Chatter-Bachs, and I have with me Mr. Phil Dundermann, a man who has been thoroughly humiliated by the hit television show 'Ambush!' several times now. Thank you for agreeing to speak with us, Mr. Dundermann."
"What?" said Phil.
"Of course, we have followed your trials and tribulations very closely," said Chatter-Bachs, "and I must say that it is totally reprehensible the way Ambush! has treated you."
"YES!" exploded Phil. "Why do I have to get picked on? It makes no sense!"
"Absolutely!" said Chatter-Bachs. "We thought we'd give our viewers a detailed look at the real Phil Dundermann, man of passion, grace, and humility."
"Well, I don't know..." mumbled Phil. "I'm actually late for work."
"This won't take five minutes," said Chatter-Bachs. "So, this is your house?"
"Yes," said Phil. "I've lived here for five years..."
"Let's take a look!" said Chatter-Bachs, and she and the cameraman charged towards his front door, which was standing wide open. Phil watched them, then rushed after them, not liking this at all.
"Well, I must say," Chatter-Bachs was saying as Phil rushed in the door. "This is not at all what I expected."
They were standing in front of the living room. Phil looked in, and had to stifle a scream. The whole living room was pink. Lacy curtains adorned the windows, and pictures of kittens and puppies covered the walls that were now layered with bright pink flowery wallpaper. The sofa and easy chair now had fluffy pink pillows on them, and the coffee table was festooned with pictures of Martha Stewart.
"And what do we have here?" asked Chatter-Bachs, already in the kitchen with the cameraman. Phil rushed after them to find that the kitchen was completely trashed. Food, dirty dishes, and trash were everywhere. Phil was shocked...he always strove to be as neat as possible. How had this happened?
"Oh, and is that your dog?" asked Chatter-Bachs. Phil looked to see Floyd, his rottweiller, sitting mournfully in the back yard wearing a tutu and a tiara.
It had taken him this long, being early morning and all, but Phil finally put two and two together. He hung his head, and turned to face the camera. He almost mouthed the words along with Penelope Chatter-Bachs.
"Surprise!" she said. "You've been Ambushed!"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Phil watched the whole thing, along with the confetti and aftermath on a special episode of Celeb Mania!, the tabloid show that aired right before Ambush! Penelope Chatter-Bachs was a real correspondant, and the show featured her exclusive story and interview with Harvey Rossel. Rossel was the man behind Ambush!, and had even played the manager in their first prank on Phil. The purpose of the interview was to tease the show, but Rossel explained a few things for the audience. They had gotten the keys to Phil's house in the parking garage prank, and had turned off his alarm so he would sleep in. They had, of course, cleared it with his boss first. Wouldn't want to get the poor guy fired. They had silently redecorated in the night, and had taken pictures to record their movements, which would be shown on Ambush! that evening. Phil was a good sport, Harvey said, and he didn't mind. This, Phil thought, was a lie, but he decided he shouldn't have pretended to be such a good sport the first time.
To close out the interview, before Ambush! showed Phil's latest humiliation, Rossel made a statement that made Phil's stomach do flip flops.
"I think it's safe to say that we haven't seen the last of Mr. Dundermann," Rossel said. "I think the best is yet to come."
NEXT: That Depends On Your Definition Of "The Best"
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Ambushed, part II
Phil was having a miserable day. He had been chewed out by his boss for web surfing when he should be working, his mom had called and harangued him for almost half an hour about his plans for starting a family, and he had a massive headache. So, when he got to the parking garage and discovered that his car was missing, he wasn't at all surprised. Mad, but not surprised.
He went to the parking attendant's booth. The regular guy was named George, and was pretty friendly with Phil. However, there was a new guy reading a comic book. The Green Lantern. Phil tapped on the window. The guy didn't look up. Phil tapped again. The guy looked up.
"My car was stolen," said Phil.
The guy looked confused. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," said Phil. "I parked on the third level, in section G. It's not there."
The guy looked even more baffled. "Nobody has gone out that didn't have a pass. Do you have your pass?"
"Yes!" shouted Phil. "I'm not an idiot!" The attendant glared at him. "Sorry," Phil mumbled. "I'm just frustrated."
The attendant sighed. "Well, let's go check."
The two went up to the third floor. And there it was, right where Phil remembered leaving it. He scratched his head. "I must've been on the wrong floor. Sorry." The attendant grumbled, and went back to his post.
Phil stood and stared at his car for a minute. Something didn't feel right. Finally, he gave up, and felt for his keys.
His keys were gone. He knew he had them...he had had them out when he was looking for his car the first time. He must've dropped them somewhere between here and the attendant's booth.
The attendant was on to Spider-Man when Phil knocked on the window again. "I didn't drop my keys around here, did I?" The attendant looked furious. Phil was taken aback. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't look in the elevator, maybe I dropped them there."
Phil went to the elevator and took it up to the fourth floor, thinking that maybe he had lost them on whatever floor he thought he had parked on. And, yep, there they were, right next to his car.
Phil shook his head, and had gotten into the driver's seat before he realized that he wasn't on the third floor.
Something clicked in his brain. In desperation, he put the key in the ignition to try and get away, but someone had stuck their head inside his window and screamed, "SURPRISE! YOU'VE BEEN AMBUSHED!"
Confetti fell from the ceiling, and people Phil didn't even know were there laughed and applauded. It was even harder this time to act like a good sport, and Phil had a sinking feeling that things were going to get worse.
NEXT: Phil Hates Being Right
He went to the parking attendant's booth. The regular guy was named George, and was pretty friendly with Phil. However, there was a new guy reading a comic book. The Green Lantern. Phil tapped on the window. The guy didn't look up. Phil tapped again. The guy looked up.
"My car was stolen," said Phil.
The guy looked confused. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," said Phil. "I parked on the third level, in section G. It's not there."
The guy looked even more baffled. "Nobody has gone out that didn't have a pass. Do you have your pass?"
"Yes!" shouted Phil. "I'm not an idiot!" The attendant glared at him. "Sorry," Phil mumbled. "I'm just frustrated."
The attendant sighed. "Well, let's go check."
The two went up to the third floor. And there it was, right where Phil remembered leaving it. He scratched his head. "I must've been on the wrong floor. Sorry." The attendant grumbled, and went back to his post.
Phil stood and stared at his car for a minute. Something didn't feel right. Finally, he gave up, and felt for his keys.
His keys were gone. He knew he had them...he had had them out when he was looking for his car the first time. He must've dropped them somewhere between here and the attendant's booth.
The attendant was on to Spider-Man when Phil knocked on the window again. "I didn't drop my keys around here, did I?" The attendant looked furious. Phil was taken aback. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't look in the elevator, maybe I dropped them there."
Phil went to the elevator and took it up to the fourth floor, thinking that maybe he had lost them on whatever floor he thought he had parked on. And, yep, there they were, right next to his car.
Phil shook his head, and had gotten into the driver's seat before he realized that he wasn't on the third floor.
Something clicked in his brain. In desperation, he put the key in the ignition to try and get away, but someone had stuck their head inside his window and screamed, "SURPRISE! YOU'VE BEEN AMBUSHED!"
Confetti fell from the ceiling, and people Phil didn't even know were there laughed and applauded. It was even harder this time to act like a good sport, and Phil had a sinking feeling that things were going to get worse.
NEXT: Phil Hates Being Right
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Ambushed, part I
Phil was mad. He had been sitting in this stupid restaurant for over an hour. He had tried to get the waiter's attention several times. The waiter had taken his order forty-five minutes ago, and still had not brought Phil his water. Phil was this close to leaving. He didn't need this. He had places to go, people to see, a job to do.
Finally, he succeeded in getting the waiter's attention. "May I help you?" asked the waiter, a gawky kid with a nametag that read "Raymond".
"I ordered practically an hour ago," snapped Phil. "What's taking so long?"
"What did you order again?" asked Raymond.
"A hamburger, no mayonnaise or pickles, cooked medium rare, and a glass of water," Phil replied.
"Did you want fried with that?" asked Raymond.
"YES I WANT FRIES WITH THAT!" cried Phil, a lot louder than he intended. People were looking at him. He lowered his voice. "Listen," he said, "if I haven't gotten my food in the next five minutes, I'm leaving."
"Without paying?" asked Raymond.
"There's nothing to pay for!" hissed Phil.
"OK, fine, sir," Raymond said. His tone suggested that he was not at all pleased with Phil's attitude. Raymond walked away, and Raymond waited.
Five minutes passed. Nothing. He stood to go, then Raymond walked up with a plate of food. "Here you are, sir."
Phil looked at it. This was not a hamburger, no mayonnaise or pickles, cooked medium rare, fries, and a glass of water. This was a chicken sandwhich, burnt to a crisp, extra pickles and mayonnaise, cole slaw, and no water.
Rage boiled beneath Phil's usually calm exterior, but he just managed to keep it in check. "I want to see the manager," he said in a deadly whisper.
Raymond's eager smile faltered, but he nodded, set down the food, and left. Phil sat and seethed. Fifteen minutes passed. Finally, a man in a tie came out. "Raymond says there's a problem?" the man asked.
"You could say that," Phil replied. "I ordered a medium rare hamburger. This appears to be a very well done chicken. I ordered it with no mayonnaise or pickles, but as you can see, that's practically all I got. I ordered it with fries, and this appears to be cole slaw instead. Also, I ordered a cup of water, but as you can see, I haven't even gotten a substitute for that."
The manager's face fell. He turned to Raymond and snarled, "Get the man what he ordered!" Raymond quickly ran to the back and appeared moments later with a glass of water. "I'm so sorry," said the manager. "There will be no charge for the water."
That was it. Phil blew up. He screamed, jumped around, cursed, upended tables, threatened, jumped some more, and finally, as he was taking a breath, he noticed that everyone was smiling.
"Surprise!" said the manager. "You've been Ambushed!" And he pointed to a hidden camera in the potted plant near Phil's table.
Confetti fell from the ceiling, everyone laughed and applauded, and Phil laughed too, trying to show what a good sport he was. Ambush was a new hidden camera show, and apparently Phil was its most recent victim.
When his episode premiered, Phil didn't go into work for a week. He changed his number, shut all the blinds, and tried desperately to wish that it had never happened. Even went he went into work, he still had to endure all kinds of ridicule. However, it eventually died away, and Phil vowed to never get suckered into anything like that again.
NEXT: Wishful Thinking
Finally, he succeeded in getting the waiter's attention. "May I help you?" asked the waiter, a gawky kid with a nametag that read "Raymond".
"I ordered practically an hour ago," snapped Phil. "What's taking so long?"
"What did you order again?" asked Raymond.
"A hamburger, no mayonnaise or pickles, cooked medium rare, and a glass of water," Phil replied.
"Did you want fried with that?" asked Raymond.
"YES I WANT FRIES WITH THAT!" cried Phil, a lot louder than he intended. People were looking at him. He lowered his voice. "Listen," he said, "if I haven't gotten my food in the next five minutes, I'm leaving."
"Without paying?" asked Raymond.
"There's nothing to pay for!" hissed Phil.
"OK, fine, sir," Raymond said. His tone suggested that he was not at all pleased with Phil's attitude. Raymond walked away, and Raymond waited.
Five minutes passed. Nothing. He stood to go, then Raymond walked up with a plate of food. "Here you are, sir."
Phil looked at it. This was not a hamburger, no mayonnaise or pickles, cooked medium rare, fries, and a glass of water. This was a chicken sandwhich, burnt to a crisp, extra pickles and mayonnaise, cole slaw, and no water.
Rage boiled beneath Phil's usually calm exterior, but he just managed to keep it in check. "I want to see the manager," he said in a deadly whisper.
Raymond's eager smile faltered, but he nodded, set down the food, and left. Phil sat and seethed. Fifteen minutes passed. Finally, a man in a tie came out. "Raymond says there's a problem?" the man asked.
"You could say that," Phil replied. "I ordered a medium rare hamburger. This appears to be a very well done chicken. I ordered it with no mayonnaise or pickles, but as you can see, that's practically all I got. I ordered it with fries, and this appears to be cole slaw instead. Also, I ordered a cup of water, but as you can see, I haven't even gotten a substitute for that."
The manager's face fell. He turned to Raymond and snarled, "Get the man what he ordered!" Raymond quickly ran to the back and appeared moments later with a glass of water. "I'm so sorry," said the manager. "There will be no charge for the water."
That was it. Phil blew up. He screamed, jumped around, cursed, upended tables, threatened, jumped some more, and finally, as he was taking a breath, he noticed that everyone was smiling.
"Surprise!" said the manager. "You've been Ambushed!" And he pointed to a hidden camera in the potted plant near Phil's table.
Confetti fell from the ceiling, everyone laughed and applauded, and Phil laughed too, trying to show what a good sport he was. Ambush was a new hidden camera show, and apparently Phil was its most recent victim.
When his episode premiered, Phil didn't go into work for a week. He changed his number, shut all the blinds, and tried desperately to wish that it had never happened. Even went he went into work, he still had to endure all kinds of ridicule. However, it eventually died away, and Phil vowed to never get suckered into anything like that again.
NEXT: Wishful Thinking
Thursday, April 3, 2008
The Secret of Twah, part IX
The story so far...A farmer from the village at the base of the mountain one day heard a voice that said "TWAH". He then began a journey to the monastery on top of the mountain to find out the Secret of Twah. In order to do so, he had to undertake a rigorous Rite of Monkhood. He lived in a tree for a full year. He recovered four cups from the village. He took a written exam, almost failed, but was granted a reprieve. Finally, he had to make his way through one hundred doors that progressively got more difficult to open. When he finally opened the last one, he learned the Secret of Twah.
Unfortunately, I can't tell you what it is. You're not a monk.
THE END
Unfortunately, I can't tell you what it is. You're not a monk.
THE END
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The Secret of Twah, part VIII
The story so far...after passing the first two tasks in the Rite of Monkhood, the farmer failed the written exam when he missed a question about how to kill the giant bee. Having just learned it, however, the farmer was able to give the correct answer, then waited a year to find out his fate. He now has one final task to complete.
The corridor was completely dark, save for a blue glowing light far in front of him. The voice spoke into his ear. "Give me your hand."
The farmer held out his left hand, and an object was placed into it by the still unseen monk. By feel, the monk determined that it was a key.
"Go towards that blue light," said the voice. "It is a door. Use this key to open the door. Behind that door is another key and another door. Keep going through the doors, and at the end, you will learn the Secret of Twah. Good luck."
The voice was gone. The farmer was alone. He walked to the blue light and opened the door with his key. Sure enough, there was another key in the next room, which he used to open another door. And so on.
By the tenth room, the farmer had noticed that the task was getting more difficult. Whereas the first key was tiny and light, the tenth key was about the size of a normal house key. The doors seemed to be getting heavier as well. But the farmer kept going. By the twenty-fifth room, the key had gotten as large as a loaf of bread. By the fortieth room, they had gotten as large as a medium sized dog. By the fiftieth, the key was as large as a pony. By the seventy-fifth room, the keys had gotten so large and heavy that the farmer had to rest before entering the next room and going again. By the nintieth room, the key was as large as his house in the village.
When the farmer entered the ninety-ninth room, he saw a glowing light under the next door, and he knew that this was it. The one hundredth door led to the Secret of Twah. But the key was massive. He had to spend an entire day pushing it to the door, another full day lifting it, another full day pushing it into the lock, another full day turning it, and a full week trying to open the door just enough that he could squeeze through. But squeeze through he did, and learned the Secret of Twah.
NEXT: The Secret of Twah
The corridor was completely dark, save for a blue glowing light far in front of him. The voice spoke into his ear. "Give me your hand."
The farmer held out his left hand, and an object was placed into it by the still unseen monk. By feel, the monk determined that it was a key.
"Go towards that blue light," said the voice. "It is a door. Use this key to open the door. Behind that door is another key and another door. Keep going through the doors, and at the end, you will learn the Secret of Twah. Good luck."
The voice was gone. The farmer was alone. He walked to the blue light and opened the door with his key. Sure enough, there was another key in the next room, which he used to open another door. And so on.
By the tenth room, the farmer had noticed that the task was getting more difficult. Whereas the first key was tiny and light, the tenth key was about the size of a normal house key. The doors seemed to be getting heavier as well. But the farmer kept going. By the twenty-fifth room, the key had gotten as large as a loaf of bread. By the fortieth room, they had gotten as large as a medium sized dog. By the fiftieth, the key was as large as a pony. By the seventy-fifth room, the keys had gotten so large and heavy that the farmer had to rest before entering the next room and going again. By the nintieth room, the key was as large as his house in the village.
When the farmer entered the ninety-ninth room, he saw a glowing light under the next door, and he knew that this was it. The one hundredth door led to the Secret of Twah. But the key was massive. He had to spend an entire day pushing it to the door, another full day lifting it, another full day pushing it into the lock, another full day turning it, and a full week trying to open the door just enough that he could squeeze through. But squeeze through he did, and learned the Secret of Twah.
NEXT: The Secret of Twah
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
The Secret of Twah, part VII
The story so far...the farmer, after enduring a year in a tree and a quest to recover four golden cups, returned to the monastery to complete a final, written exam. However, upon returning for his test results, the farmer found out that he had failed.
The farmer stared at the closed peephole, disbelieving. It could not be over. He pounded on the door. The peephole opened almost immediately. "What do you want?" demanded the voice.
"How bad was my score?" asked the farmer.
"Terrible," said the voice. "You missed the question about the giant bee."
"I know. What else?"
"That's all."
The farmer was quite incredulous now. "You mean I got every question on that test right except the question about the giant bee, and I FAILED?"
"It was the most important question, and the one all your trials were designed to help you answer," snapped the voice. "You spent a year in the tree so you could learn how to defeat and kill the giant bee so he wouldn't attack you on your second mission. Had you learned how to kill the bee in the tree, you wouldn't have been late with the cups. Your refusal to learn even the most basic tenets of survival means you are NOT monk material! Break off his stinger...that just makes him mad. Hit him, and yes, he goes away, but he'll be back to kill you another day. Now begone! The Secret of Twah is not for you!"
"Wait!" yelled the farmer as the peephole began to close. "Tear off its wings! That's how you kill it! It can't fly, so it dies!"
The eye looked at him through the half closed peephole. "How did you learn this?"
"I fought him," said the farmer. "In the flower field. We battled for a week, and I killed him."
The eye stared at him. "Let me speak to the master of monks," said the voice. The peephole closed, and the farmer waited. An hour passed before the peephole opened again.
"The master of monks is considering your case," said the voice, "and bids you to return in one year, when he shall render a decision. The master's vote will be final."
The peephole closed, and the farmer sat. He did not return to his family. He did not explore the area. For one full year, he sat in front of the door to the monastery. He ate when he was hungry, slept when he was tired, but always sat. Through rain and snow, hail and lightning, he sat.
When the year had passed, the peephole opened and the eye looked out at him. "The master of monks has designed one final task for you," said the voice. "Complete it, and you shall know the Secret of Twah."
The door opened. The farmer stood and stepped inside.
NEXT: The FINAL Final Task
The farmer stared at the closed peephole, disbelieving. It could not be over. He pounded on the door. The peephole opened almost immediately. "What do you want?" demanded the voice.
"How bad was my score?" asked the farmer.
"Terrible," said the voice. "You missed the question about the giant bee."
"I know. What else?"
"That's all."
The farmer was quite incredulous now. "You mean I got every question on that test right except the question about the giant bee, and I FAILED?"
"It was the most important question, and the one all your trials were designed to help you answer," snapped the voice. "You spent a year in the tree so you could learn how to defeat and kill the giant bee so he wouldn't attack you on your second mission. Had you learned how to kill the bee in the tree, you wouldn't have been late with the cups. Your refusal to learn even the most basic tenets of survival means you are NOT monk material! Break off his stinger...that just makes him mad. Hit him, and yes, he goes away, but he'll be back to kill you another day. Now begone! The Secret of Twah is not for you!"
"Wait!" yelled the farmer as the peephole began to close. "Tear off its wings! That's how you kill it! It can't fly, so it dies!"
The eye looked at him through the half closed peephole. "How did you learn this?"
"I fought him," said the farmer. "In the flower field. We battled for a week, and I killed him."
The eye stared at him. "Let me speak to the master of monks," said the voice. The peephole closed, and the farmer waited. An hour passed before the peephole opened again.
"The master of monks is considering your case," said the voice, "and bids you to return in one year, when he shall render a decision. The master's vote will be final."
The peephole closed, and the farmer sat. He did not return to his family. He did not explore the area. For one full year, he sat in front of the door to the monastery. He ate when he was hungry, slept when he was tired, but always sat. Through rain and snow, hail and lightning, he sat.
When the year had passed, the peephole opened and the eye looked out at him. "The master of monks has designed one final task for you," said the voice. "Complete it, and you shall know the Secret of Twah."
The door opened. The farmer stood and stepped inside.
NEXT: The FINAL Final Task
Monday, March 31, 2008
The Secret of Twah, part VI
The story so far...the farmer has barely gotten through the first two trials of the Rite of Monkhood. He spent a year in a tree, but his answers did not seem to satisfy the doorkeeper. He recovered four golden cups, but took five minutes longer than allotted. Now, he is about to begin his final exam.
The farmer looked through the stack of papers. Five hundred questions. Mostly multiple choice, though there were a few essay questions. Nothing else to do but get started.
The questions were pretty easy for the farmer. Most of them had to do with things he had learned in his time on the mountain. There was a question about how to disperse the tiny bats (light), several questions about the flowers in the field, a few questions about fruits of the trees, and several questions about the habits of roving vagabonds. However, it was question number 500 that tripped him up.
He looked over his answers, confident that he had passed. As soon as his time was up, the door opened, and a hood was thrust over his head. He was walked back through endless corridors, though he couldn't tell if it was the same direction as the first time. Finally, the hood was removed, and he found himself outside the monastery again. He turned to see the eye looking at him from the peephole.
"We will grade the test. Come back in a month for the results." The peephole shut.
The farmer spent most of the next month wandering around the forest. He met several roving vagabonds (who oddly enough only seemed to rove in one place), and had tea with them. Then they beat him up, but it was more for their image than anything else. The farmer also visited the flower field, and was horrified when he was attacked by the giant bee. Its stinger had regrown a bit, not nearly as long and menacing as it was, but still intimidating. Obviously, losing its stinger hadn't killed him. The farmer fought the bee, and after an epic battle that lasted a week, the farmer ripped the bee's wings off. The bee fell to the ground and was still. It was dead.
The month passed, and he returned to the monastery. After he knocked, he waited for five minutes before the peephole finally opened, very slowly.
"You failed," said the voice icily. The farmer stared in shock. The eye regarded him. "Sorry. No monkhood for you. No Secret of Twah. Goodbye." And the peephole closed.
NEXT: A Second Chance
The farmer looked through the stack of papers. Five hundred questions. Mostly multiple choice, though there were a few essay questions. Nothing else to do but get started.
The questions were pretty easy for the farmer. Most of them had to do with things he had learned in his time on the mountain. There was a question about how to disperse the tiny bats (light), several questions about the flowers in the field, a few questions about fruits of the trees, and several questions about the habits of roving vagabonds. However, it was question number 500 that tripped him up.
- 500. How do you kill the giant bee?
He looked over his answers, confident that he had passed. As soon as his time was up, the door opened, and a hood was thrust over his head. He was walked back through endless corridors, though he couldn't tell if it was the same direction as the first time. Finally, the hood was removed, and he found himself outside the monastery again. He turned to see the eye looking at him from the peephole.
"We will grade the test. Come back in a month for the results." The peephole shut.
The farmer spent most of the next month wandering around the forest. He met several roving vagabonds (who oddly enough only seemed to rove in one place), and had tea with them. Then they beat him up, but it was more for their image than anything else. The farmer also visited the flower field, and was horrified when he was attacked by the giant bee. Its stinger had regrown a bit, not nearly as long and menacing as it was, but still intimidating. Obviously, losing its stinger hadn't killed him. The farmer fought the bee, and after an epic battle that lasted a week, the farmer ripped the bee's wings off. The bee fell to the ground and was still. It was dead.
The month passed, and he returned to the monastery. After he knocked, he waited for five minutes before the peephole finally opened, very slowly.
"You failed," said the voice icily. The farmer stared in shock. The eye regarded him. "Sorry. No monkhood for you. No Secret of Twah. Goodbye." And the peephole closed.
NEXT: A Second Chance
The Secret of Twah, part V
The story so far...the farmer, in order to become a monk and learn the Secret of Twah, spent one year in a tree and recovered four golden cups from the village at the base of the mountain. He is now ascending the mountain, praying that he has completed his second task in time.
After a perilous journey through hailstones the size of watermelons, thunderstorms with lightning striking trees all around him, obligatory attacks by roving bands of vagabonds (some of whom now knew him on a first name basis), and no encounters with the giant bee (mercifully), the farmer arrived at the monastery and pounded on the door. The peephole opened immediately, and the eye looked out at him. The stare seemed very cold. The voice did not speak.
"Um," said the farmer. "I have returned with the golden cups."
"You're late," said the voice. There was definite anger there.
The farmer's heart sank. "By how long?"
"Five minutes," said the voice.
"Five minutes?" said the farmer, incredulous. "Well, I would have been back here much sooner, but there was this giant bee..."
"Did you hit it and make it go away?" asked the voice. There was a taunting tone there.
"No," said the farmer. "It stung me, and I was unconscious for...well, for a while."
"You have the cups?" The farmer pulled them out of his bag and showed them to the eye. The eye looked at the letters T-W-A-H, then the voice spoke again. "Very well. You will be deducted five points for tardiness. Return in one month for your written exam."
"Five points? Written exam? What?" asked the farmer, but the peephole had already closed.
After a month without incident (shockingly), the farmer returned to the monastery. The door opened, and he was admitted, though a hood was placed over his head. He was led through countless corridors, until he was forced into a chair.
"You may remove your hood," said the voice, and the farmer did so. He looked around to see a small, featureless room. There was a torch in the corner, but no window or other source of light. He was seated at a small wooden table. On the table was a large stack of papers and a quill. A peephole was open on the door, and the eye was looking at him. "You have five hours," said the voice. "Begin."
NEXT: The Test
After a perilous journey through hailstones the size of watermelons, thunderstorms with lightning striking trees all around him, obligatory attacks by roving bands of vagabonds (some of whom now knew him on a first name basis), and no encounters with the giant bee (mercifully), the farmer arrived at the monastery and pounded on the door. The peephole opened immediately, and the eye looked out at him. The stare seemed very cold. The voice did not speak.
"Um," said the farmer. "I have returned with the golden cups."
"You're late," said the voice. There was definite anger there.
The farmer's heart sank. "By how long?"
"Five minutes," said the voice.
"Five minutes?" said the farmer, incredulous. "Well, I would have been back here much sooner, but there was this giant bee..."
"Did you hit it and make it go away?" asked the voice. There was a taunting tone there.
"No," said the farmer. "It stung me, and I was unconscious for...well, for a while."
"You have the cups?" The farmer pulled them out of his bag and showed them to the eye. The eye looked at the letters T-W-A-H, then the voice spoke again. "Very well. You will be deducted five points for tardiness. Return in one month for your written exam."
"Five points? Written exam? What?" asked the farmer, but the peephole had already closed.
After a month without incident (shockingly), the farmer returned to the monastery. The door opened, and he was admitted, though a hood was placed over his head. He was led through countless corridors, until he was forced into a chair.
"You may remove your hood," said the voice, and the farmer did so. He looked around to see a small, featureless room. There was a torch in the corner, but no window or other source of light. He was seated at a small wooden table. On the table was a large stack of papers and a quill. A peephole was open on the door, and the eye was looking at him. "You have five hours," said the voice. "Begin."
NEXT: The Test
Sunday, March 30, 2008
The Secret of Twah, part IV
The story so far...the farmer, obsessed with the Secret of Twah, has undertaken the mystical Rite of Monkhood in order to become a monk. He stayed in a tree for one year, then began a quest to collect four golden cups. However, during his journey down the mountain, he was stung by the giant bee and passed out.
The farmer was aware that water was dripping on his face. He opened his eyes and was greeted by a world that was white and green at the same time. He sat up. Snow was melting off the blooming trees. It must be early spring. He had been unconscious for three whole seasons.
Sudden panic gripped him. Three quarters of his year must be gone! He had to hurry. He leapt to his feet and began running down the mountain. He was not attacked in that whole time, partly because the roving band of vagabonds he encountered either couldn't keep up or decided to give him a break this time.
When the farmer reached the village at the base of the mountain, he finally stopped to collect himself. The voice belonging to the eye had told him the cups were at the base of the mountain, but it did not say where. It definitely didn't say they were in the village. Why had he assumed that? It must have been because he was so excited about finally seeing his family. Where should he begin?
Logically, the cups would not be here. No one in the village knew anything about the monks or Twah. The farmer wouldn't even know who to ask. He had lived here for nine years, but hadn't been back in two. The cups must be hidden in some cave or something. He would have to hurry. Maybe he could get a horse.
The horse dealership was, unfortunately, closed for the weekend. The farmer resigned himself to a long run...he had no idea how far it was around the mountain, but he was sure it wasn't short. The only good thing was that he could just go straight up from wherever he found the cups, as the monastery was on top of the mountain.
As he ran down the streets, however, something caught his eye in a store window. He went back to look. Four golden cups gleamed through the glass. The cups were in a row, and each was engraved with a letter that read W-H-A-T.
"What?" wondered the farmer. "Is this what I'm looking for? Is this something a true monk would know?"
Then it hit him. Why didn't he know the Secret of Twah yet? Because he was not a monk. A true monk would know the Secret. The shopkeeper was not a monk, so he had arranged the letters into a word he knew.
W-H-A-T, unscrambled, spelled T-W-A-H.
The farmer raced into the shop and bought all four cups (for an outrageous price, he thought, but he didn't have time to haggle). He then began to climb the mountain, hoping against hope that he wasn't too late.
NEXT: The Final Task
The farmer was aware that water was dripping on his face. He opened his eyes and was greeted by a world that was white and green at the same time. He sat up. Snow was melting off the blooming trees. It must be early spring. He had been unconscious for three whole seasons.
Sudden panic gripped him. Three quarters of his year must be gone! He had to hurry. He leapt to his feet and began running down the mountain. He was not attacked in that whole time, partly because the roving band of vagabonds he encountered either couldn't keep up or decided to give him a break this time.
When the farmer reached the village at the base of the mountain, he finally stopped to collect himself. The voice belonging to the eye had told him the cups were at the base of the mountain, but it did not say where. It definitely didn't say they were in the village. Why had he assumed that? It must have been because he was so excited about finally seeing his family. Where should he begin?
Logically, the cups would not be here. No one in the village knew anything about the monks or Twah. The farmer wouldn't even know who to ask. He had lived here for nine years, but hadn't been back in two. The cups must be hidden in some cave or something. He would have to hurry. Maybe he could get a horse.
The horse dealership was, unfortunately, closed for the weekend. The farmer resigned himself to a long run...he had no idea how far it was around the mountain, but he was sure it wasn't short. The only good thing was that he could just go straight up from wherever he found the cups, as the monastery was on top of the mountain.
As he ran down the streets, however, something caught his eye in a store window. He went back to look. Four golden cups gleamed through the glass. The cups were in a row, and each was engraved with a letter that read W-H-A-T.
"What?" wondered the farmer. "Is this what I'm looking for? Is this something a true monk would know?"
Then it hit him. Why didn't he know the Secret of Twah yet? Because he was not a monk. A true monk would know the Secret. The shopkeeper was not a monk, so he had arranged the letters into a word he knew.
W-H-A-T, unscrambled, spelled T-W-A-H.
The farmer raced into the shop and bought all four cups (for an outrageous price, he thought, but he didn't have time to haggle). He then began to climb the mountain, hoping against hope that he wasn't too late.
NEXT: The Final Task
Thursday, March 27, 2008
The Secret of Twah, part III
The story so far...a farmer from the village at the base of the mountain has begun the Rite of Monkhood so he may learn the Secret of Twah. As we left him, he had just completed the first task, staying in a tree for one year.
The farmer arrived at the monastery and knocked on the door. The peephole opened, and the eye looked out at him. "Yes?" asked the voice.
"I have completed my year in the tree," said the farmer.
"Oh?" asked the voice. "Why were you in the tree?"
The farmer stared. "Because...you said it was part of the Rite of Monkhood?"
"And why do you want to become a monk?"
"Because I want to learn the Secret of Twah."
The eye looked at the farmer for a long time. Then, the voice asked, "And what did you learn from your time in the tree?"
The farmer had been thinking about this for a year, and replied, "Many things. I think the greatest lesson was that need and want are separate. You can do without the things you want, and the things you need will be provided to you."
The eye couldn't frown, as it was not a mouth. However, it definitely gave off the impression that it was frowning. Then, the voice asked, "And the giant bee? Did you learn anything about the giant bee?"
"Um..." said the farmer, confused. He had not expected his encounter with the giant bee to be that important. "Hit him and he goes away?"
The eye stared. "I guess that will do for now. You still have a long way to go before you are a monk. For your next task, you must go to the base of the mountain and recover four golden cups. You must be back here in exactly one year, or you will never become a monk."
"Four golden cups?" asked the farmer. "How will I know they are the ones you want?"
"A true monk would know," said the voice. The peephole shut, and the farmer set off down the mountain. His thoughts were elated with the time he had to search for the cups. Maybe if he found them quickly enough, he could go home and visit with his family. At the very least, he could find out how they were doing.
However, trouble befell him at almost every turn on his journey down. He had to battle a bear, a herd of llamas, several bands of roving vagabonds that may or may not have attacked him before, and the giant bee. His battle with the giant bee was less successful than before, and the bee stung him. The last thing the farmer thought before the world went black was, "I must know the Secret of Twah. I must survive. I must..."
NEXT: Time Running Out
The farmer arrived at the monastery and knocked on the door. The peephole opened, and the eye looked out at him. "Yes?" asked the voice.
"I have completed my year in the tree," said the farmer.
"Oh?" asked the voice. "Why were you in the tree?"
The farmer stared. "Because...you said it was part of the Rite of Monkhood?"
"And why do you want to become a monk?"
"Because I want to learn the Secret of Twah."
The eye looked at the farmer for a long time. Then, the voice asked, "And what did you learn from your time in the tree?"
The farmer had been thinking about this for a year, and replied, "Many things. I think the greatest lesson was that need and want are separate. You can do without the things you want, and the things you need will be provided to you."
The eye couldn't frown, as it was not a mouth. However, it definitely gave off the impression that it was frowning. Then, the voice asked, "And the giant bee? Did you learn anything about the giant bee?"
"Um..." said the farmer, confused. He had not expected his encounter with the giant bee to be that important. "Hit him and he goes away?"
The eye stared. "I guess that will do for now. You still have a long way to go before you are a monk. For your next task, you must go to the base of the mountain and recover four golden cups. You must be back here in exactly one year, or you will never become a monk."
"Four golden cups?" asked the farmer. "How will I know they are the ones you want?"
"A true monk would know," said the voice. The peephole shut, and the farmer set off down the mountain. His thoughts were elated with the time he had to search for the cups. Maybe if he found them quickly enough, he could go home and visit with his family. At the very least, he could find out how they were doing.
However, trouble befell him at almost every turn on his journey down. He had to battle a bear, a herd of llamas, several bands of roving vagabonds that may or may not have attacked him before, and the giant bee. His battle with the giant bee was less successful than before, and the bee stung him. The last thing the farmer thought before the world went black was, "I must know the Secret of Twah. I must survive. I must..."
NEXT: Time Running Out
The Secret of Twah, part II
The story so far...our hero, a farmer from the village at the base of the mountain, has journeyed to the top in order to discover the Secret of Twah. However, since he is not a monk, he cannot know. We join the farmer as he waits for his Rite of Monkhood.
One month passed. Since he could not return home and make it back to the monastery in time, the farmer used the opportunity to explore the area around the monastery. He found many wonders, including a cave that led underground to a large cavern where the natural rock formations had eroded into beautiful shapes over time. He found a field full of flowers that he had never seen before, and were so lovely they made him weep. He found a grove of trees that seemed taller than he though was possible, stretching until they seemed to scrape the sky.
For every wonder the farmer found, however, he found more trouble. The cave was inhabited by a ruthless swarm of tiny bats, and he had to flee into the light to escape their terrible stinging bites. In the field of flowers, he encountered a giant bee that tried to harpoon him, and managed to escape by hitting it between the eyes with a rock. In the forest grove, he encountered several roving bands of vagabonds, some of whom he thought had attacked him during his journey up the mountain, and all of whom attacked him this time too.
After the month had passed, the farmer returned to the monastery and knocked on the door. The peephole slid open, and the same eye peered out at him. "Yes?" said the voice.
"I'm here to complete the Rite of Monkhood," said the farmer.
The eye looked at him. "Why do you want to become a monk?"
"So I can learn the Secret of Twah."
The eye stared unblinkingly at the farmer, who didn't move. Finally, the voice said, "Very well. To the south is a grove of trees with trees that grow taller than anywhere else in the world."
"I've been there," replied the farmer.
"Good. In the center, there is a tree, even taller and wider than the others. You will know it because the entire base is covered in ivy. It is the only tree where this is so. Climb the tree, and remain among its branches for one full year. When you descend, come back here and tell me what you learned."
The peephole closed, and the farmer set off to the grove of trees. He found the ivy covered base, fought off the roving band of vagabonds that were camped there, and climbed the tree. Over the course of the next year, the farmer learned much. He learned that nature provided everything necessary for his survival. Fruit and leaves to eat from the tree, water to drink from the sky, air to breathe, and beauty to enjoy. However, nature also provided its own challenges. Packs of ravenous wolves would stand at the base and howl at him. Giant eagles would swoop down from the sky to try and pluck him from the tree. Mad squirrels would taunt him and flee from his grasp. The giant bee from the flower field tracked him down and the two did battle two hundred feet above the earth. The farmer managed to defeat the bee with a well aimed kick at the bee's stomach.
The autumn came, then the winter. Leaves and fruit were no longer available, but the farmer subsisted on a steady diet of bark and insects. The spring arrived, and the farmer rejoiced to be able to eat fruit once again. Finally, the summer arrived, and the year had passed. The farmer descended from the tree, and returned to the monastery.
NEXT: The Next Phase
One month passed. Since he could not return home and make it back to the monastery in time, the farmer used the opportunity to explore the area around the monastery. He found many wonders, including a cave that led underground to a large cavern where the natural rock formations had eroded into beautiful shapes over time. He found a field full of flowers that he had never seen before, and were so lovely they made him weep. He found a grove of trees that seemed taller than he though was possible, stretching until they seemed to scrape the sky.
For every wonder the farmer found, however, he found more trouble. The cave was inhabited by a ruthless swarm of tiny bats, and he had to flee into the light to escape their terrible stinging bites. In the field of flowers, he encountered a giant bee that tried to harpoon him, and managed to escape by hitting it between the eyes with a rock. In the forest grove, he encountered several roving bands of vagabonds, some of whom he thought had attacked him during his journey up the mountain, and all of whom attacked him this time too.
After the month had passed, the farmer returned to the monastery and knocked on the door. The peephole slid open, and the same eye peered out at him. "Yes?" said the voice.
"I'm here to complete the Rite of Monkhood," said the farmer.
The eye looked at him. "Why do you want to become a monk?"
"So I can learn the Secret of Twah."
The eye stared unblinkingly at the farmer, who didn't move. Finally, the voice said, "Very well. To the south is a grove of trees with trees that grow taller than anywhere else in the world."
"I've been there," replied the farmer.
"Good. In the center, there is a tree, even taller and wider than the others. You will know it because the entire base is covered in ivy. It is the only tree where this is so. Climb the tree, and remain among its branches for one full year. When you descend, come back here and tell me what you learned."
The peephole closed, and the farmer set off to the grove of trees. He found the ivy covered base, fought off the roving band of vagabonds that were camped there, and climbed the tree. Over the course of the next year, the farmer learned much. He learned that nature provided everything necessary for his survival. Fruit and leaves to eat from the tree, water to drink from the sky, air to breathe, and beauty to enjoy. However, nature also provided its own challenges. Packs of ravenous wolves would stand at the base and howl at him. Giant eagles would swoop down from the sky to try and pluck him from the tree. Mad squirrels would taunt him and flee from his grasp. The giant bee from the flower field tracked him down and the two did battle two hundred feet above the earth. The farmer managed to defeat the bee with a well aimed kick at the bee's stomach.
The autumn came, then the winter. Leaves and fruit were no longer available, but the farmer subsisted on a steady diet of bark and insects. The spring arrived, and the farmer rejoiced to be able to eat fruit once again. Finally, the summer arrived, and the year had passed. The farmer descended from the tree, and returned to the monastery.
NEXT: The Next Phase
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
The Secret of Twah, part I
This is not a completely original story by me, just an adaptation of an old joke I was told as a youth. It's long, and the ending may be upsetting to some, but here is my interpratation, which is much shorter than the original. Don't say I didn't warn you. And be glad I didn't decide to retell the Fluffy Dog Joke.
THE SECRET OF TWAH
Once upon a time, in a far off land, lived a farmer. He was not native to the area, but had moved there when he married his wife nine years previously. The couple had two lovely children, and lived in the farmhouse at the base of the mountain.
One day, as the farmer worked in the fields, he heard a booming voice from the top of the mountain. The voice said a single word:
"TWAH."
The farmer stopped and listened, but heard nothing else. Bewildered he asked his wife about it.
"Oh yes," she replied. "That's just Twah. It happens every ten years. No one really knows anything about it, except for the monks."
"Monks?" the farmer asked.
"Yes," said his wife. "There's a monastery up at the top of the mountain. They are the sacred keepers of the Secret of Twah. If you want to know more about it, you'll have to ask them, because that's all anyone else knows."
Over the next few weeks, the farmer became obsessed with the Secret of Twah. Finally, he determined to discover the meaning of the mysterious word by going to the top of the mountain and asking the monks in person. He kissed his family and set off on the perilous journey.
It took him three months to reach the top of the mountain. In that time, he was attacked by six cougars, three giant eagles, a pack of ravenous wolves, several bands of roving vagabonds (he lost count because some of them attacked him multiple times), and an ill-tempered ferret. Finally, he reached the monastery at the top of the mountain and knocked.
A peephole opened, and a single green eye peered out at him. "Yes?" a voice, presumably belonging to the eye, asked.
"I've traveled from the village at the base of the mountain, and endurd much suffering along the way," the farmer replied. "I have come all this way because I want to learn the Secret of Twah."
The eye regarded him for a while, then the voice said, "I can't tell you. You're not a monk."
The peephole shut. The farmer stood and stared for a moment, then banged on the door again. The peephole opened, and the eye looked out at him again. "Yes?" the voice said.
"I have to know the Secret of Twah," the farmer said. "I have left everything behind. I must know!"
The eye looked at him. "Then you have to become a monk."
"Fine," said the farmer. "How do I become a monk?"
"We must prepare the Rite of Monkhood," said the voice. "Come back in one month."
NEXT: The Rite Begins
THE SECRET OF TWAH
Once upon a time, in a far off land, lived a farmer. He was not native to the area, but had moved there when he married his wife nine years previously. The couple had two lovely children, and lived in the farmhouse at the base of the mountain.
One day, as the farmer worked in the fields, he heard a booming voice from the top of the mountain. The voice said a single word:
"TWAH."
The farmer stopped and listened, but heard nothing else. Bewildered he asked his wife about it.
"Oh yes," she replied. "That's just Twah. It happens every ten years. No one really knows anything about it, except for the monks."
"Monks?" the farmer asked.
"Yes," said his wife. "There's a monastery up at the top of the mountain. They are the sacred keepers of the Secret of Twah. If you want to know more about it, you'll have to ask them, because that's all anyone else knows."
Over the next few weeks, the farmer became obsessed with the Secret of Twah. Finally, he determined to discover the meaning of the mysterious word by going to the top of the mountain and asking the monks in person. He kissed his family and set off on the perilous journey.
It took him three months to reach the top of the mountain. In that time, he was attacked by six cougars, three giant eagles, a pack of ravenous wolves, several bands of roving vagabonds (he lost count because some of them attacked him multiple times), and an ill-tempered ferret. Finally, he reached the monastery at the top of the mountain and knocked.
A peephole opened, and a single green eye peered out at him. "Yes?" a voice, presumably belonging to the eye, asked.
"I've traveled from the village at the base of the mountain, and endurd much suffering along the way," the farmer replied. "I have come all this way because I want to learn the Secret of Twah."
The eye regarded him for a while, then the voice said, "I can't tell you. You're not a monk."
The peephole shut. The farmer stood and stared for a moment, then banged on the door again. The peephole opened, and the eye looked out at him again. "Yes?" the voice said.
"I have to know the Secret of Twah," the farmer said. "I have left everything behind. I must know!"
The eye looked at him. "Then you have to become a monk."
"Fine," said the farmer. "How do I become a monk?"
"We must prepare the Rite of Monkhood," said the voice. "Come back in one month."
NEXT: The Rite Begins
Sunday, March 16, 2008
The PC Viper Chronicles, Chapter One - part VI
In part one, P.C. Viper entered the presidential campaign with a threat to kill Hamster, a puppy whom Viper also named his running mate. In part two, Samuel Bucks threatened to nuke Viper should Hamster die. In part three, the two debated the puppy issue. In part four, Viper released very nasty ads aimed at Samuel Bucks, and in part five, Samuel Bucks singlehandedly ruined his chances to become president.
On the day before the election, the popular daytime talk show “The Gavin McAvin Hour” aired live from Washington, DC. McAvin had an important announcement to make, as seen in this transcript from his opening monologue.
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I’m coming to you live from our nation’s capitol instead of from Los Angeles because...well, let’s face it. Tomorrow is one of the most important days in American history. There’s been a lot of screaming and shouting so far, and it seems that the worst is over after the fall from grace of Sam Bucks. But I have some new information to share with the country that may just shake things up a bit. So, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? [applause] My first guest is a national celebrity, in fact, probably the most recognizable face in the world these days. So, without further ado, let’s bring him out. Hamster?
Mayhem ensued. The dog that trotted out on stage was most definitely Hamster, and obviously no longer in P.C. Viper’s control. McAvin spent the next few minutes comparing Hamster to known photos from Viper’s campaign, leaving no doubt. Then McAvin shocked the world:
We won’t give the details of Hamster’s dramatic rescue now. There are a few legal details that need to be hammered out, but it’s pretty apparent...Hamster will not die when Viper is not elected President. [applause] Now, please notice that I said “when”. Because I’m sure it’s obvious that no American can conscientiously give Viper their vote now. And Bucks is in disgrace, so we can’t vote for him either. Which brings me to my next guest. He has graciously agreed to enter the Presidential race at the last moment in order to give us an acceptable choice. Come on out! [thunderous applause, but no one comes out on stage] Hello? Is something wrong? [A stagehand walks out on stage and whispers in McAvin’s ear] OH! Silly me. I completely forgot. We have no other guest, because I WILL BE ENTERING THE PRESIDENTIAL RACE!!!
If it was mayhem before, it was pure bedlam now. For ten solid minutes, the audience whooped and cheered as every news organization in the world struck deals with the Gavin McAvin Hour to get a direct live feed. After McAvin finally calmed them down, he outlined his vision for the country, clearly demonstrating that this was not some spontaneous decision.
It wasn’t pretty. Viper’s vicious and hastily released rebuttal was jam packed unfounded accusations (“Gavin McAvin wears footy pajamas to bed!”), implications of foul play (“Thief! McAvin! We hates him!”), and more threats of violence (“You think I can’t find another puppy?”). No luck. Every single electoral vote went to Gavin McAvin on Election Day. In fact, all TV networks had called the race before all the polls were open that Tuesday.
To this day, P.C. Viper has still not conceded the race. He screamed loudly for a recount for a few months, then disappeared from the public eye. He would return.
------------------------------------------------
Thus ends chapter one of The PC Viper Chronicles. I don't know when chapter two will appear, but stay tuned.
On the day before the election, the popular daytime talk show “The Gavin McAvin Hour” aired live from Washington, DC. McAvin had an important announcement to make, as seen in this transcript from his opening monologue.
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I’m coming to you live from our nation’s capitol instead of from Los Angeles because...well, let’s face it. Tomorrow is one of the most important days in American history. There’s been a lot of screaming and shouting so far, and it seems that the worst is over after the fall from grace of Sam Bucks. But I have some new information to share with the country that may just shake things up a bit. So, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? [applause] My first guest is a national celebrity, in fact, probably the most recognizable face in the world these days. So, without further ado, let’s bring him out. Hamster?
Mayhem ensued. The dog that trotted out on stage was most definitely Hamster, and obviously no longer in P.C. Viper’s control. McAvin spent the next few minutes comparing Hamster to known photos from Viper’s campaign, leaving no doubt. Then McAvin shocked the world:
We won’t give the details of Hamster’s dramatic rescue now. There are a few legal details that need to be hammered out, but it’s pretty apparent...Hamster will not die when Viper is not elected President. [applause] Now, please notice that I said “when”. Because I’m sure it’s obvious that no American can conscientiously give Viper their vote now. And Bucks is in disgrace, so we can’t vote for him either. Which brings me to my next guest. He has graciously agreed to enter the Presidential race at the last moment in order to give us an acceptable choice. Come on out! [thunderous applause, but no one comes out on stage] Hello? Is something wrong? [A stagehand walks out on stage and whispers in McAvin’s ear] OH! Silly me. I completely forgot. We have no other guest, because I WILL BE ENTERING THE PRESIDENTIAL RACE!!!
If it was mayhem before, it was pure bedlam now. For ten solid minutes, the audience whooped and cheered as every news organization in the world struck deals with the Gavin McAvin Hour to get a direct live feed. After McAvin finally calmed them down, he outlined his vision for the country, clearly demonstrating that this was not some spontaneous decision.
It wasn’t pretty. Viper’s vicious and hastily released rebuttal was jam packed unfounded accusations (“Gavin McAvin wears footy pajamas to bed!”), implications of foul play (“Thief! McAvin! We hates him!”), and more threats of violence (“You think I can’t find another puppy?”). No luck. Every single electoral vote went to Gavin McAvin on Election Day. In fact, all TV networks had called the race before all the polls were open that Tuesday.
To this day, P.C. Viper has still not conceded the race. He screamed loudly for a recount for a few months, then disappeared from the public eye. He would return.
------------------------------------------------
Thus ends chapter one of The PC Viper Chronicles. I don't know when chapter two will appear, but stay tuned.
Friday, March 14, 2008
The PC Viper Chronicles, Chapter One - part V
In part one, P.C. Viper announced his candidacy for president of the United States with a vicious threat against the innocent puppy Hamster. In part two, another candidate named Samuel Bucks vowed to nuke Viper if he harmed Hamster at all. In part three, the two debated the issue, and in part four, P.C. Viper got personal with Bucks.
On the Thursday before the election, Samuel Bucks gave a press conference condemning P.C. Viper, which backfired badly. Following is a transcript.
BUCKS: Thank you all for coming. This campaign is far from over today, but as my opponent becomes more and more desperate, I must reiterate my position. The threats he has made against this poor puppy are deplorable. The American people are sick of it, and will not stand for his attempt to hijack the nation’s highest office. Let me be even more clear. Mr. P.C. Viper has elevated his rhetoric beyond what we know as politics. He has insulted me, he has insulted this country, he has insulted puppies everywhere. How do we know that he will stop once he is elected president? How do we know that he will never again use the threat of violence against Vice President Hamster? When Congress is debating a bill, will Viper hold a gun to Hamster’s head to make them share his viewpoint? When the Supreme Court is deliberating on our First Amendment rights, will Viper put Hamster on a chopping block and lift an axe? If some foreign prime minister accidentally forgets to wipe his shoes at the White House, will Viper use Hamster to start World War III? But, even more chillingly, how do we know that it will just be Hamster? How do we know that P.C. Viper will not threaten hundreds of thousands of puppies, or kitty cats, or real hamsters, just to get his way? We cannot have this. But, simply putting Sam Bucks in office is no longer good enough to stop this maniac. When I am elected President, I will not nuke him only if he kills Hamster. I...WILL...NUKE HIM. He cannot escape. His kind cannot be allowed to live. He will die. We will hunt him down like a dog. Any questions?
[long, stunned silence. Finally one reporter raises her hand and asks, timidly:]
REPORTER #1: Um. Mr. Bucks, do I understand you correctly? You hunt dogs?
BUCKS: [flabbergasted] No! No, no. It’s just an expression!
REPORTER #2: But why would you choose that expression? It certainly implies that you hunt dogs.
BUCKS: Oh...no, of course not. I meant...you know...we would hunt him down like a dog... meaning that we would be the dog, and he would be the one hunted by the dog...he wouldn’t be the dog, of course, just the one hunted.
[awkward silence]
REPORTER #3: Then, shouldn’t it be “We will hunt him down like dogs?” Since the pronoun “we” implies multiple persons...
BUCKS: OK, now we’re just arguing sem...
REPORTER #4: Why not just say “We will hunt him down like hunters”?
BUCKS: But...no, “dog” is the metaphor.
REPORTER #3: Actually, I think that’s technically a simile.
BUCKS: Whatever! Fine, then, let me revise my statement. We will hunt him down in the manner that foxes are hunted by dogs!
REPORTER #2: So, could you confirm for the record that you are officially anti-fox?
BUCKS: I...what?
REPORTER #2: Anti-fox. You just said that you enjoy hunting foxes.
BUCKS: I never...
REPORTER #1: Were you aware that foxes and dogs are related?
REPORTER #4: What do you have against the canidae family?
[The rest of the press conference erupts in pandemonium as Bucks flees the scene.]
Bucks’ revelation that he was not a dog sympathizer after all threw the election into chaos. Overnight, he went from enjoying a healthy margin in the polls to being dead in the water - an early Friday poll showed Viper with a commanding 93-7 lead, with 6 of the 7 admitting they had not watched the news in a few days . It seemed that nothing could stop Viper from winning the presidency.
---------------------------------------------------
IN THE FINAL EPISODE: A New President
On the Thursday before the election, Samuel Bucks gave a press conference condemning P.C. Viper, which backfired badly. Following is a transcript.
BUCKS: Thank you all for coming. This campaign is far from over today, but as my opponent becomes more and more desperate, I must reiterate my position. The threats he has made against this poor puppy are deplorable. The American people are sick of it, and will not stand for his attempt to hijack the nation’s highest office. Let me be even more clear. Mr. P.C. Viper has elevated his rhetoric beyond what we know as politics. He has insulted me, he has insulted this country, he has insulted puppies everywhere. How do we know that he will stop once he is elected president? How do we know that he will never again use the threat of violence against Vice President Hamster? When Congress is debating a bill, will Viper hold a gun to Hamster’s head to make them share his viewpoint? When the Supreme Court is deliberating on our First Amendment rights, will Viper put Hamster on a chopping block and lift an axe? If some foreign prime minister accidentally forgets to wipe his shoes at the White House, will Viper use Hamster to start World War III? But, even more chillingly, how do we know that it will just be Hamster? How do we know that P.C. Viper will not threaten hundreds of thousands of puppies, or kitty cats, or real hamsters, just to get his way? We cannot have this. But, simply putting Sam Bucks in office is no longer good enough to stop this maniac. When I am elected President, I will not nuke him only if he kills Hamster. I...WILL...NUKE HIM. He cannot escape. His kind cannot be allowed to live. He will die. We will hunt him down like a dog. Any questions?
[long, stunned silence. Finally one reporter raises her hand and asks, timidly:]
REPORTER #1: Um. Mr. Bucks, do I understand you correctly? You hunt dogs?
BUCKS: [flabbergasted] No! No, no. It’s just an expression!
REPORTER #2: But why would you choose that expression? It certainly implies that you hunt dogs.
BUCKS: Oh...no, of course not. I meant...you know...we would hunt him down like a dog... meaning that we would be the dog, and he would be the one hunted by the dog...he wouldn’t be the dog, of course, just the one hunted.
[awkward silence]
REPORTER #3: Then, shouldn’t it be “We will hunt him down like dogs?” Since the pronoun “we” implies multiple persons...
BUCKS: OK, now we’re just arguing sem...
REPORTER #4: Why not just say “We will hunt him down like hunters”?
BUCKS: But...no, “dog” is the metaphor.
REPORTER #3: Actually, I think that’s technically a simile.
BUCKS: Whatever! Fine, then, let me revise my statement. We will hunt him down in the manner that foxes are hunted by dogs!
REPORTER #2: So, could you confirm for the record that you are officially anti-fox?
BUCKS: I...what?
REPORTER #2: Anti-fox. You just said that you enjoy hunting foxes.
BUCKS: I never...
REPORTER #1: Were you aware that foxes and dogs are related?
REPORTER #4: What do you have against the canidae family?
[The rest of the press conference erupts in pandemonium as Bucks flees the scene.]
Bucks’ revelation that he was not a dog sympathizer after all threw the election into chaos. Overnight, he went from enjoying a healthy margin in the polls to being dead in the water - an early Friday poll showed Viper with a commanding 93-7 lead, with 6 of the 7 admitting they had not watched the news in a few days . It seemed that nothing could stop Viper from winning the presidency.
---------------------------------------------------
IN THE FINAL EPISODE: A New President
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