Thursday, August 23, 2007

Jan: Won't you take me to Crazy Town?

“Very nice to meet you, I’m Doc Samson.” The jade-haired psychiatrist raised one eyebrow, looked me up and down, and smiled. “My you have a strong handshake.”

“Who me? Oh I don’t think so, tee hee hee,” I giggled as I shook his hand.

“Oh yeah,” he continued to leer at me. “I’ve got to tell you, I consider myself a good judge of character and you are something all right.”

“Oh you’re too much,” I tittered.

“So, maybe after we’re through here we could maybe go get a cup of coffee or something?” He aimed his thumb towards the door, making sure to flex his muscles along the way.

“Gee, I don’t know. I don’t think I can,” I giggled. “I’m a contestant and all.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said. “In fact, I even gave you an easy inmate to make sure we can skip out of here quick.”

“Really? You did? Aw, that’s so sweet.” I didn’t buy Fabio’s nice guy act for a second, but hey if it gets me out of here any quicker, I’ll take it.

“Yeah, so just head down that hall and he’s the last one on the left.”

“Wow, you’re such a guy.” I punched him in the arm playfully, then took the clipboard that had the patient’s name on it. “I can’t wait to help out Mr. Knight here.”

I walked down the hall looking at the rooms containing inmates, the rooms were colored in all kind of crazy:

“I’m the Ambush Bug! I ambush people and bug ‘em, hee hee!”

“I’m the Badger, I badger people. Ha ha, get it?”

“Hello Clarice….”

Finally, I reached the end of the hall. I looked and saw the man who I would have to help. He stood rigid in his room as if he was guarding something.

“Dane Whitman, I presume?”

He stood silent, not moving a muscle.

“My name is Jan the Intergalactic Aviator and I’m here to talk to you today.” I looked down at the clipboard containing his bio.

He remained steadfast in the center of his room.

“Ok, then, I think that I’ll just sit over here until you’re ready to talk.” I moved towards his bunk.

“None shall pass.”

“What?” I looked at him.

“None shall pass.”

“I have no quarrel with you, Black Knight,” I replied. “I’m here to help. Remember? We can just talk, but I must cross your room.”

“Then you shall die.”

“Please, just stand aside,” I asked.

“I move for no man. Er, or woman.”

“So be it,” I said and tried to shove my way past him. Yeah, I know, getting physical with a patient here probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I felt that I needed to establish dominance in this situation. He wouldn’t talk to me until I proved that I could stand up to him and all that.

He responded by drawing a weapon out of his scabbard. It wasn’t a sword, though. It was shorter and wooden. He swung wildly at me with it, I dodged and judo chopped him in the left arm, hitting his nerve and immobilizing the whole arm.

“Now, stand aside, worthy adversary,” I commanded.

“’Tis but a scratch!”

“A scratch?” I couldn’t believe it. “Your arm is dead.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Well what’s that then?” I pointed to his arm dangling limply at his side.

“I’ve had worse.”

“You liar!” I snapped back in unbelief. “Come on, that’s not even a sword, that’s a tongue depressor.”

“Come on, you pansy! Ahhhhhhh!”

He charged me wildly and I sidestepped once again. I chopped at his right arm this time and immobilized it. He stood there blankly with his two arms flopping around.

“Victory is mine,” I said. “Now let’s just sit down and talk, hey!”

“Hah!” The Black Knight kicked me. “Come on, then!”

“What?” The Black Knight kicked me ineffectually as he had to deal with his inability to balance himself without the use of his arms.

“Have at you!”

“You are indeed brave, Black Knight,” I said as he tried to kick me again. “But the fight is mine.”

“Oh, had enough, eh?”

“Look you stupid bastard,” I said. “You don’t have any arms.”

“Yes I have.” He twisted his torso back and forth which caused his arms to comically flop around.

“Look!”

“Just a flesh wound!”

“Look, stop that,” I said as he kicked me again.

“Chicken! Chickennn!”

“Look, I’ll do the same to your leg.” He kicked me again. “Ok then.”

I karate chopped his right leg and he nearly tumbled over without the use of it. He continued to attack though, hopping towards me with his paralyzed limbs flailing spastically.

“Right. I’ll do you for that!”

“You’ll what?” I can’t believe this guy.

“Come here!”

“What are you going to do, bleed on me?” Yeah, I know he’s not bleeding right now, but he will be if he keeps this up.

“I’m invincible!”

“You’re a looney,” I retorted.

“The Black Knight always triumphs! I have the Ebony Blade! Have at you! Come on, then!”

He again bumped into me with his ineffectual attack. I responded by attacking the nerve in his good leg. He crumpled to the ground in a heap.

“Oh? All right, we’ll call it a draw.”

“Very well,” I replied. “Tell me about your childhood…”

5 comments:

November Rain said...

I would check his room for coconuts

Jeremy Rizza said...

Now that he's vulnerable, maybe you could explain to him that those shoulderpads are so 1980's (as in the business formal look for women).

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

Those shoulder pads do kind of make him look like Judith Light, don't they?

Jan the Intergalactic Aviator said...

Did you say blatant or brilliant?

Congressman Nathan Petrelli said...

I say brilliant. A little pain dished out by a beautiful woman is better than no attention at all.