|A CHRISTMAS CARD FROM THE MIDDLEMAN
||[Nov. 28th, 2011|03:33 pm]
SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTH PACIFIC
The Big Green Cheese’s language was extra-salty today, but Wendy Watson couldn’t muster the gumption for a witty rejoinder for two distinct reasons. Reason number one? Two adamantine thoughts currently raging like an electrical storm in her brain:
Thought number one: an intense calculation of the tangled path of clues and conspiracies that had led her to this present, and precarious situation. The winding and dangerous intrigue of the past few days included but was not limited to: a. the kidnapping of a genetically-enhanced, superintelligent dolphin from a children’s waterpark in Dubuque, b. the sudden manifestation in a Bhutanese monastery of the Vitrioplasmoid Consciousness - an alien entity comprised of pure hatred expressed as a small pool of malodorous brown bioluminescent ooze and c. the HEYDAR’s discovery of a not inconsiderably large rift in the fabric of space and time emanating from this location.
Thought number two: a certain yearning for her aunt Margarita’s Ropa Vieja, a thick and vinegary Caribbean stew of meat, peppers, and onions whose preparation inevitably filled the house with a. a delicious and savory aroma and b. the irresistible strains of Miguel Bosé’s signature 1980‘s hit single Amante Bandido.
Thought number two always intruded into Wendy’s mind during moments of extreme danger... and may have been the key contributing factor to her trademark serenity in the face of overwhelming odds.
Reason number two for Wendy Watson’s lack of a witty rejoinder? She was - indeed - experiencing a moment of extreme danger when she heard the voice of her employer: hanging upside-down, her legs magnetically shackled to a shining steel girder over the Coliseum-like lair of yet another egomaniacal-male-chauvinist-pig-supervillain who was probably neither breastfed as a baby nor picked for the football team as a child...
...and beneath her, an army of somewhat comical salt-and-pepper-shaker-shaped robots... all sporting plunger-shaped manipulator arms and lethal gunsticks... all crying out the same word with shrill and excruciating homogeneity:
“EX-TER-MI-NATE! EX-TER-MI-NATE! EXTERMINATE!”
The Middleman and Wendy
THE WIBBLY-WOBBLY, TIMEY-WIMEY JIGGERY-POKERY
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