The Chicken hero saga 14: Maria's curse Part II

  The night sky was becoming as dark as an African.........night, he was distracted by some moving object and had trouble finishing that last thought. He would need to focus now though, for trouble was coming. Had it been that long already? Maria wondered aloud, a thousand years went by seemingly in the blink of an eye, but the hero didn't have time to listen to the polite ramblings of the old woman as off in the distance he saw a figure emerging from the darkness, they were short in stature, for a moment he had hoped it was the long awaited return of Byronus, but that could not be possible, for after being thrown by Robbius the strong a fortnight ago there were still reports of him sailing through the air. People were actually using him as a unit of measurement for travel, telling people that if they wanted to go to the next village all they had to do was go as straight as the Byronus flies.
  The figure was cloaked but he could tell it was a woman, yes he knew what woman this was, it was the witch that had cursed Maria. She removed her cloak and a rare look of horror crept over the face of the hero, her face resembled the skin of a chicken left laying around for days, her voice was the harshest sound he had ever heard, and he had heard Allysius speak in her high pitched gibberish. Time had not been kind to this decrepit old hag, and he had a feeling that she was not going to be kind to him.
  "Come on Maria, we have to run till I can figure out a plan"
   But it was the middle of the day, despite the darkness, and everyone knew that Maria didn't run well in the middle of the day. The hero picked up whatever he could find and threw it in the path of the witch, who was now gaining, doing whatever he could to block her path, he even grabbed a nearby baby and showed it to a group of serving wenches, causing a circle formation that was hard for the witch to get around and would buy them some time. On the way they were met by Jamieus the hemp smoking leprechaun, when the hero told him what was coming Jamieus had no fear.
  "Sure that's nothing, she only needs a hug, and I'm just the one to give it to her"
  "You don't understand Jamieus, she is going to swallow us up in a big dark hole"
  "HA, that's what she said"
   "That is exactly what she said, she was screaming it at us when she was approaching"
    The hero grabbed Jamieus and led him and Maria to find a place where he could think, he looked back and saw and the old woman getting closer and closer, he wondered why Maria couldn't move that way, The hero saw the lights of the harvest drawing near and he knew he couldn't let the darkness overtake it, for nobody in that village wanted anything do with dark, they were all white, white, white. The hero now stopped running, he had a plan, he urged Jamieus to run and get the giant Brendanus, their trio had dominated in the sport of hurling, he stopped and urged Maria to run before everything got cold....and dark. He set up a net using his trusty and effective chicken string, hoping it would hold until Jamieus and Brendanus returned. The old woman ran straight into the string, it was working, she was being held back, but then she wasn't, through some witchcraft the string disintegrated, he could wait no longer, he took out his hurling ball and threw, a good shot, it hit her, she wobbled and did not fall over, he threw another, but missed, he silently cursed his wild inconsistency. Then from behind to the left came a whirling orb that ended up hitting the witch head on knocking her far back, before he even heard the all too familiar words he knew what had happened.
  "Did you see the curve on that, what a hook" roared the giant Brendanus
  Jamieus stood by with an approving look until a huge gust of air sent him flying into the night, the hero and Brendanus stood stopped in their tracks as a bigger gust of air sent Brendanus flying. She had recovered well for a woman who was thousands of years old. It was just them now.
  "Why do you run boy, is it so hard to be polite that you would rather flee then talk to me, well your problems are almost over, for soon the only words these wretched fools will no how to say will be Hello, and how are you, and excuse me dear, and there is nothing you can do about it."
  "Listen lady.....ish thing, whatever you are, I have manners, I was always told to help old ladies across the village streets, and now I'm gonna help you across the street, INTO HELL."
  Feeling proud of himself for that last line he charged.....backwards, as a gust of air knocked him over, dazed he looked up to see the witch standing over him, her bony hand nearing his face.
  "With one touch you will be under my command, you will be cursed like the girl was cursed......."
  Just then she stopped talking, her hand stopped moving, she was frozen in fear, what is that could possibly scare this supernatural entity, the hero crawled backwards and looking behind him he could see what stopped her, emerging from the darkness came the pasty frame of the far undressed Bogeyus, man of numbers and literature. The image that once haunted the hero now haunted her.
  "My eyes have never seen such small amounts of denim pantalooms, or such amounts of wool for feet coverings, the horror..........the horror, the curse is not worth this."
  With that the old hag was gone, and the skies lightened, it appeared the trouble was over, they were safe for the next thousand years, or at least till the next threat came along. Bogeyus looked at the hero with a confused look on his face.
  "Who was that, one of the villagers complaining"
  "Um something like that, she said something about wanting all dark and not getting it, I'm glad you showed up Bogeyus, now lets go get you some longer pantalooms."

The Chicken Hero saga 13: Marias Curse Part 1

   It was a sweltering day in the chicken harvest as the sun beat down endlessly, it was so hot that our hero thought he could actually fry an egg on pavement, if pavement had actually existed.
  "Note to self" he thought while writing an idea down "Invent pavement."
   It was a slow time of year at the harvest, the good weather combined with business being divided between the villages of Kelsius and Pearl Mountain was taking it's toll on the amount of villagers who came in to dine, sure they were still prosperous but the extended downtime led to some interesting ways to keep busy. Games were created to kill the boredom, though some often backfired such as when a rousing game of throw the dwarf went wrong after Robbias, who had the strength of ten men launched Byronus some two towns over and he was not heard from again.
   The hero feared boredom sometimes, because he did not trust it, he knew if the times were uneventful now that something would happen later to make up for it. The Chicken king was still out there though he had defeated him and his kickin chickens once, and something in his stomach told him he had not yet seen the last of the Deboner, for he knew he was not that easy to eliminate, no he was quite hard indeed. With the sun keeping all the villagers outside and a shortage of little people around to throw the hero needed something to keep himself occupied, he liked stories, he considered himself a man of literature, he had read that book that time, so he decided to go around and ask his fellow harvesters for a story he could listen to. As the hero set out find out more about his harvesters he was stopped in his tracks, frozen by the horror that was in front of him. The hero stood straight, unmoving, he had never known fear before, he had fought many battles but never had evil come this close to home, for there in front of him stood the co-harvest manager Bogias, man of numbers and books, clad in tiny panatlooms made of denim, a shirt with the sleeves removed and socks darned from the wool of what appeared to be two sheep. His pasty legs and torso showed an uncanny ability to avoid the sun's rays, and his hairless body, the stuff of legend, looking like a guinea pig that just escaped the womb of it's mother.
    For the first time in his brave life the hero knew he must flee, with a quick hello he went off in the other direction in search of anything he could do to cut the image out of his brain, for it would haunt him for the rest of his days. On the way to find something to scrub his brain clean, he ran past Marias who made sure to say hello to him, he was moving so fast he almost never said hello back but then he thought of the story he had heard, it was known that Marias was cursed in the long long ago, that she had to stop and say hello to everyone, and if the greetings were not returned, the curse would be passed on to that person. Looking for anything to take his mind off the horrors he had witnessed previously he went up to her with an offering of food, for she had a hearty appetite even over the age of a thousand.
    "Hello Marias" the hero called to her "I was wondering if you ever get frustrated having to say hello to every single person you meet?"
    "Well you know dear-she called everybody dear- it was rough for the first hundred years, I lived in the mountains for a long time because if you scream hello, it echoes for days and that saves a lot of time, there is always a loophole, remember that dear."
    "Do you mind if I ask you the story of how it happened?"
    "Not at all dear, I've told this story many times. It was back in the long long ago when the earth was orbited by nine planets, and you can bet Uranus that Pluto was one of them, it was said that when these nine planets aligned darkness would take over the earth and it only happens every thousand years or so. I was just a girl then, I remember I was in the yard playing with my pet Mastodon.....Fuzzy was his name."
    "Oh Fuzzy was he?
    "No, not really dear, Fuzzy had no hair"
    "Oh so Fuzzy wasn't Fuzzy, was he?"
    "That's not the point dear, anyway where was I? Oh yes I was playing with Fuzzy when the skies darkened, I had never seen such darkness, even the so called Dark Ages were brighter than you would think. I ran into to tell my father, but I could not talk well at the time for I was so young and I said daddy daddy the darks is coming, and at first he taught the slaves had gotten free and was going to defend our home. Then he looked outside and he saw how dark it was and he said we had to run, and there was little time. So I grabbed what things I could and Fuzzy and we made a run for it, I wasn't sure what was happening but I knew things weren't right."
   Marias stopped and looked in the sky and she shivered as if remembering something horrifying. The hero stopped and saw the image of Bogias, and he shivered at the memory of something horrifying.
   "In our rush to flee our village I bumped into an older woman, I did not see her face because of the cloak she had on, let this be a lesson dear, never trust anyone in a cloak. I was so scared that I did not say hello to this woman, I just wanted to catch up with my parents and Fuzzy, as I went to move she grabbed my arm with her bony fingers and told me I was a mean little child for not saying hello, and she begin to chant this weird spell, when she was done she told me that I was now cursed, that I would live for thousands of years and have to say hello to everyone, and if they didn't say it back, they too would be cursed, apparently while evil she still believed in being polite. For the first hundred years it was rough, I do not want to say hello to everyone, not everyone deserves it, but I do not want anyone else to suffer this fate so I go out of my way to make sure they say hello back, hoping someday I will find that woman and the curse will be lifted."
   The hero hugged Marias and thanked her for telling him, but something else stopped in him in his tracks, no it wasn't just the horrible image of Bogias this time, it was another thought
   "Marias, did you say the darkness only comes every thousand years?"
   "Yes dear, why?"
   "Because look at how dark it is over on the horizon"
   "Oh no dear, it's time again"
   The hero looked off in the distance, he knew trouble was coming and that in fact the slow times were over, and he thought maybe the darkness might bring back the cloaked woman, and he could lift Marias curse, this story was far from over, it would definitely be continued.

Paint by the numbers

   First off I want to start off by apologizing to the two or so(that includes my proofreading) readers of my blog for the lack of updates, sometimes life just gets in the way, not mine really, I'm sure others have lives, I'm just really lazy outside of work. Today I had to dust off the old corner of the Internet when a juicy news story came over the wire, yes that's how long it's been since I've updated anything on here, I still use a wire, I was going to upgrade to an email but there are two reasons why I did not do this. Firstly, the email chunkylover53@aol.com was already taken by some guy in Springfield and the second was that somebody warned me there was a lot of spam, and spam is terrible, I don't even think it's real meat, and all compacted in that hard to open little can. Recently on the radio I heard a commercial for a summer camp run by the local paintball organization Frontline, at first listen I thought that's a great idea, round all the hoodlums up and and fire them off in the woods somewhere. However, upon further investigation what was revealed was not a fun, educational camp but a building ground for a future bloodthirsty militia.
   I decided to try and go undercover into their secret training ground, which was an educational experience in itself, did you know if you go into a clothing store and tell them "I need to get into some boys pants" they will look at you funny and call the police, I do now. With the first attempt a terrible failure I decided to try an sneak a kid in there, some would say I probably should have asked his parents first, but there was no time, I had to get the scoop before anyone else, and hey the picture they put up in his "have you seen this child?" poster looks good, he looks really happy, they should be proud of the little family they have. With little Stevie(he told me his real name but really there was no time for paying attention) firmly enrolled in the camp I asked this ten year old boy if he knew how to use a phone so he could call me with the info, as it turns out not only could he use a phone but he upgraded my iPhone to get the best wifi reception possible.
  As the days went on I began to worry about little Stevie, I knew he would make it back to his family (although those news stories and commercials were bothersome to the whole under cover expose I had established) but it was days since I heard from him first, so I decided to try and sneak in to get a word with him, shutting off my words with friends(thanks for downloading that game Stevie) and set off to see what I could see. Sneaking along a chain link fence I could not believe what I saw, I did not see boys enjoying their youth and having fun, I saw little machines marching back and fourth spouting cadences. As I watched on in horror I suddenly laid eyes on Stevie, catching his attention I got him to come over, and he had changed, his eyes once filled with joy and wonder were now cold steel, his hair now shaved bald along with the rest of the kids, and worst of all his name wasn't even Stevie anymore, he was now known as Ravager, what had I done? I swore to him I was going to bust him out, I just wish I hadn't spent the ransom money already, I could have paid for the rest of camp and got him out, but all of a sudden that wasn't my biggest problem, I was surrounded by a bunch of little death machines, and suddenly I was taken captive.
  I awoke several hours later in a daze, and was mortified by what I had seen, all around me kids were taking target practice, or climbing trees with frightening agility. One kid was gutting and skinning a bear, A BEAR, that I legitimately think he killed himself, looking around I saw other kids in bamboo cages, there's not even bamboo in this province, when I asked one little boy about the prisoner kids, his just looked at me with a blank expression and stated coldly
  "They drew first paint, not me"
  As I tried to get more answers out of him a man approached, obviously the leader of the camp and man in charge. I asked him how he could do this to these innocent little kids, and he simply stated two words.
  "Red Dawn"
  Apparently this man watched movies, and was especially affected by the 1980's movie where America was invaded and a group of brave, hungry teenagers led by Patrick Swayze defended themselves against the threat. The man said he saw that movie and swore to never let it happen to Canada so he formed a secret training ground where kids could become super soldiers. I knew I had to do something, I had to escape, I screamed at him that he couldn't hold me and that I would escape to alert everyone as to what was going on here, and tell everyone what an inhuman monster he was. The man just smiled at me, and said I was free to go, that in fact it was merely a training exercise, and then gave me a one hundred dollar coupon to their paintball field.......................... I mean I guess he's not that bad, someone has to teach these kids discipline right, look at little Stevie's parents, they let him go off with a complete stranger, some people I tell you.

That's news to me

 
  Attention dear reader, we interrupt the ongoing chicken saga for this special news update, as apparently things happen in real life, dark things........disturbing things. Did you know that Celine Dion still sings? That is enough to make me crawl under my news desk and stay there till the zombies come. The following are just a few news stories that have developed in the past few days;

  I'll Give it a shot

   Police were involved in an altercation at Memorial university last night.  Plain clothes officers, as opposed to those snappy dressed officers, were staking out the parking lot after reports of cars being broken into. Police sat tight until they saw someone smash a window, they were unsure at first because it appeared to be a white ma....ke  of car, but once they were sure, they proceeded on foot to chase him, and he proceeded to almost run them over, and fire shots at them. The suspect managed to escape the scene when Mun campus enforcement asked the officers if they needed backup and the officers doubled over in laughter. Once they were able to compose themselves they chased after the suspect finding the vehicle he had been driving set on fire, witnesses from nearby Buckmaster's Circle were overhead saying "Hey a car on fire, it's not Thursday yet." Despite the further decline of morality in this city two silver linings emerged. The first being that police apprehended the suspect, and the second being that at the moment the shots were fired a track meet was being held inside the field house. One runner hearing the shot sped out to a giant head start and set many new records. Despite the controversy and cries for a rematch, the runner simply said that he would choose not to run.

   Thumbs (broken) up

    Get out your pitchforks and baseball bats everyone it is Roll up the Rim season once again. This year Tim Horton's is trying something new and different and actually remembering to put the hash brown in the bag on drive thru, er I mean they are giving customers two chances to win with a new bonus roll. Because if there is anything that loyal Tim Horton's customers like seeing it's the words please play again not only once, but twice, why they don't just cut out the middle man and rip your heart out at the counter when you order your drink? While it is a way of celebrating their 50th anniversary and a way to say thank you it has led to an undesired result, many Canadians are complaining that the extra rolling has led to their thumbs and hands being locked in a permanent rim rolling position. In a mere two days since the contest began tens of people have complained about their livelihoods being ruined because of lack of thumb mobility. In an exclusive you won't find anywhere else I was able to see one of the angry email from a frightened, seemingly male customer:

  Dear Tim Horton's,

  I have been typing these email for two days because my pinky is the only finger that I am able to move. These new two roll cups have destroyed my life, after drinking 7 cups in a row to try and win the bonus car I was stricken with immobility of my hands and thumbs and the overwhelming urge to urinate. I can't tell you what a bad combination this is, and I will spare you the messy details but long story short you owe me a new pair of shoes. I lost my job because I was not able to work, and the only other work I could find was holding cigars at a cigar store, and the Native American man I took the job from just keeps staring at me with an unrelenting wooden glaze. I have to go now as my pinky is starting to cease up and I haven't eaten in two days because I have been typing, for shame on you Tim Horton's, for shame

 That's entertaining

  In shocking Hollywood news, the director of the new Robocop movie was arrested for murder, as he butchered the classic original movie. In the wake of seeing the new movie, original Robocop Peter Weller actually took his own life so he could turn over his own grave.

  Early Oscar Buzz has breakout hit Wolf of wall street one of the favorites to take home the big prize at this year's awards. It is the story of a ego maniacal drug addicted lout who rises to a position of power. it is Rob Ford's favorite movie. It's main competition is Twelve years a slave which is counting on white person's guilt to push it over the hump.

 Sports shorts

  Denver Colorado are still investigating the mysterious disappearance of the entire Denver Broncos football team during Superbowl weekend. The lead investigator was quoted as saying "I've never seen this many people disappear at once, one or even two is normal but not this large a group." When asked if they were using all their resources, the investigator responded "well of course I'd love to find them, I had five hundred bucks riding on that game."

  In local sports news, there have been rumblings of a new MMA gym opening in the capital city, finally guys with barbed wire and tribal tattoos will have a place to go.

  Game of Thrones weather

  Winter is coming. Sun will make for a fine day but the night will be dark and full of terror

  Well there you have it folks, all the news that is not fit to print. And remember folks, if it's news to you, it's news to me.

The Chicken Hero saga Chapter 12: Two can dine........IN HELL

 
  It had been a quiet few months for the chicken hero. With the Deboner left completely flaccid at his hands, he toiled away at the daily doldrums of the chicken harvest.  During this time, the harvest had seen some new faces, and some returning ones as well. The chicken hero was happy to see the return little Jamieus the magical elf, an often happy go lucky fellow thanks to the help of his magical plant, well some say it was magical, others say it was cursed, for it caused a need to latch on to others at will. Often times when the sun started to sink in the west and the sundial read IV the wenches of the harvest would find themselves in his embrace.  Also there was a new Tylerus, he was taller in stature than the previous Tylerus, and never used his name in sentences. Tylerus as a boy was raised by racoons and adapted their ways, wearing the black mask that they do, and often eating whatever scraps he could find. There were also the old faces still present, ruler of the harvest Petrus the second, who was well loved but ruled with an iron fist, his son Petrus the thrice, who smoked many cigarettes and ruled with an iron lung. There was the brother of the chicken hero Robbieus whose strength was legendary, as legend has it when little Tylerus had to leave for schooling he missed his wagon, so Robbieus picked him up and hurled him to his destination...........he was never seen again.

  Yes, life was quiet at the chicken harvest. Another harvest had opened across the country, and there was another being constructed atop Pearl Mountain, so it was interesting to the hero where the townsfolk would go for their food.  It still amazed him how they came in droves every day, he had been at the harvest for many moons and still did not know why the villagers didn't have their own fire pits. To kill time when not at the harvest, at the request of Jamieus the magical elf, the hero took up a sport called bowling, in which competitors hurled rocks in an attempt to knock sticks over. They comprised a team with the youngest son of Petrus the second, Stevius the Minstrel, and Brendanus the Gronk, whose mighty screams of his "LOOK AT THAT CURVE" could be heard for towns over. Yes, life was quiet, perhaps a little too quiet, the chicken hero always looked over his shoulder, for his epic battles had been known throughout the land. He had heard the rumors of chickens being deboned in other villages, but he was certain that he had vanquished the Deboner, and he would never rise up again.

  Just then he saw a magical bird swoop down into the harvest, it was a messenger pigeon, though this one was darker than most, oh, it was a homie pigeon, he should have known by the needless amount of gold on it's beak and talons.  After dropping the scroll down, and stealing a roll(they often stole rolls) the bird flew off, and the hero rolled down the parchment to read the words, but he was not prepared for the words that he read. The high council of chicken elders had decreed that not only one villager, but two villagers could come in and dine at the harvest for mere schillings, it was like giving away food, something that Bogeyus the Seldom would not approve of. Bogeyus the Seldom was a man of literature and numbers, but he was seldom seen by the boys of the harvest, it was foretold by the ancient chicken prophecy that when the chicken was high, Bogeyus wasn't nigh, but if the chicken was low, Bogeyus would show. Despite that the chicken hero was fond of Bogeyus, for he often helped him, and he admired his undying loyalty to both his sons.

  Petrus the second had heard word that messengers had been sent out to deliver the pieces of paper to the townsfolk, and he urged his men to stop them at all costs, for if the townsfolk got wind of this, there could be a riots in the streets. The hero packed up his thin yet impenetrable chicken string and set out to stop the the messengers, but he feared it was too late, for off in the distance, over the hills came wave after wave of people, the dust rising to the sky resembled the massive fires that Petrus the thrice would have in the fire pit, or the cloud of smoke coming from Jaime the magical elf's wagon. Two by two the people descended on the harvest, waving paper after paper at the serving wenches, poor Marias the ancient(who many moons ago had been hexed with a curse that made her have to say hello to everyone) almost fell over from running to greet and serve everyone. Just then as the hero and his band of men set out on feeding all the ravenous patrons, the hero saw a man off in the distance, smoke was rising off him and he appeared to be floating. "Ah, Jamieus must back from his break" he thought, but Jamieus was in fact next to him.

  The chicken hero ran as fast as he could, but he found that no matter how fast he ran he could not catch up, once he realized he was running the wrong way, he muttered some choice words for the town people for re-organizing the roads and went off into the right direction. As he neared where he had saw the strange man, he rubbed his eyes, for he could not believe it, the man was actually floating, this was not the work Jamieus the magical elf's special plant, this went beyond anything he had seen. Before the hero could speak he was cut off "Now listen, I am King Cluck, lord of the underworld......and the dance. For centuries I have watched as your people have devoured my minions, and come back for no more. Well I say it stops today, it was I who sent those papers around, it was I who will swoop in and take the souls of your townsfolk, and they will be too full and tired to do anything about it." The hero stood confused, he hadn't even asked what his evil scheme was, what was about him that made villains divulge their evil schemes? Was it because he had a trusting face? He would never know.

  Regaining his focus, the hero screamed "You want those people, you will have to go through me!" Just then King Cluck floated right on through him, the hero was taken aback at the very literal answer to his threat, he had been shown up, nobody ever showed him up before, had he just been violated? cause it felt like he was just violated. He had no time to wall as just then two flaming chickens started kicking their way towards him. "It's time to turn up the heat with my kickin chickens, feel their wrath." The hero was trapped, these chickens were mean, and they smelled delicious, but he knew he had to eliminate them, rolling out his trusty chicken string he bobbed and weaved, jumped and dove, tying them in such a way they were now kicking each other. "Impressive" said King Cluck "but you will not be the Victor this day."

 "My name is not Victor, it's the chicken hero" and with that he charged, but as he did the ground started to open up in places. What King Cluck didn't know was that he been used to the holes in the ground at the chicken harvest and new how to dodge, with a mighty leap the hero jumped and wrapped his trusty chicken string all around the evil king, that is he would have, had the King not vanished like a tray of baked desserts around the serving wenches. Suddenly a voice filled the air "You win this round hero, but mark my words, you haven't seen the last of me!" And the chicken hero knew this to be true,  for he had forgotten his cape.

  Returning to the harvest, the hero placed the cape into the lost and found strongbox, as he sat to relax he caught a whiff of the strangest smell, it appeared to be sulfur but he wasn't sure. The hero asked Christoph the dish ogre which way the wind was blowing, he replied "Southwest, huh huh huh" and walked away, Christoph was a man of few words indeed. The hero looked at the western skies and they were black, like Kennyus' the cook's wings were black, and it was then he knew the quiet was shattered, and harvest would not be at peace for very long more.

The self destruction of Frank Martin

   Ohhh a triathlon, that should be fun.


  That was it, that was the sentence that turned my life upside down. Before we get to that let's rewind to last year, it all started with the mid season finale of Breaking Bad. Yes, that's right Walter White you get the blame for ruining yet another life. After the episode aired it dawned on me that there were only eight episodes left, and when they were finished I would have a hole in the lump of coal that is my heart. How would I survive? I needed to find something, anything to do, I needed a hobby, my god I needed to go outside. Perhaps I could fill the void left by Heisenberg and start manufacturing crystal meth myself, but then I remembered my chemistry experiment back in grade eleven, sure I blew up the lab but on the bright side all our classes were outside for the rest of the year.  Perhaps I could develop a crystal meth addiction, but that would be impossible as I usually freak out after eating a whole pack of pop rocks. With a life in the drug business out of the question I set out for something, anything I could do.

  As a child I always had big dreams, one doctor told me it seemed as if I had stars in my eyes. Another, better, doctor told me it was actually styes in my eyes and prescribed some eye drops. I had heard about this triathlon a few weeks back, and I thought to myself "I can do this, or at least I can cheat enough to make a passable effort." I trained whenever I could, sometimes I ran places instead of taking a car, which since I can't drive is the safest bet anyway. I ran everywhere, in the words of esteemed war veteran and marathon runner Forrest Gump "I just kept on running." It seemed I was always running from someone, from something. I thought maybe if I kept up running I could stay out of trouble, for a few minutes anyway. In the days preceding the the triathlon I felt that my stamina was finally where it needed to be to compete, dare I say win the thing, but as always nothing is ever that simple. These days it seems that trouble can find me anywhere and everywhere.

 Have you ever had a day where you felt like a left handed person? No not a freak, but you can't do anything right. The day of the race got off to a bad start when I missed the bus to the start line. Here I was outside my house, wondering how I was gonna get to my destination, I asked myself WWWWD(What would Walter White Do?) I was desperate, I needed to do this race, I needed to prove myself, I needed to steal er I mean borrow a car. I guess I didn't need to stea......borrow the car but there was one right there and why the hell not, it was time to live a little. After getting the car started, I was on my way, I knew the race was starting soon, with no time to spare I disobeyed all traffic laws, which is quite easy when you actually don't know the traffic laws. Something happened to me when I stole that car, a little piece of me died, and it seemed like the harder I tried to get to this race, the more I died, over and over, till all I could do was start over.

 With karma being the female dog that she is, the car that I had borrowed began to get very low on gas. I knew I wouldn't have enough to make it to the race so finding the nearest gas station I could I pulled in to fill up and get on my way. Now this next part may be too graphic, and there may be kids reading so I am going to make this as PG as possible. When I went to pay for the gas I realized I had left my wallet home, so being in a bind I had no choice, I had to pull out my.....ahem...puppy rifle and take the gas. The African American man behind that counter was caught by surprise, I think mostly cause this time he was not the robber but the robbee(PG racism). He pulled out his sawed off cat gun and went to fire at me, but I was faster and launched two puppies in his chest. As I fled the gas station, something came alive in me. For the first time in a long time I had stars in my eyes, not styes this time, actual stars. I fled as fast I could, but glory was fleeting, soon the stars were gone and everything was quiet again. The triathlon was about to start, I had to get there.

 I was getting closer, I could see the start line, people weren't running yet, phew I thought, I was going to make it. I swear I don't know where that person came from, I didn't see them till it was too late, until they went barreling over my car, I had no time to check, it was proving ground time, the start line was near, but the sound or sirens was also near. Some stooge had phoned the police, begrudgingly I had to drive past the start line, there was too much heat, I couldn't slow down, but I couldn't let them stop me from reaching my goals. With me refusing to pull over they took drastic measures, they started firing. sticking my head out the window there were bull......puppies whizzing past my head, I knew I couldn't run anymore so I stopped the car, walking into a hail of puppies I decided to go down in a blaze of glory, puppies rained down from the sky like it was Armageddon. I took out many of them but I caught a few puppies myself and my life flashed before my eyes. Luckily miracle doctors were able to fix me up, and after a small bribe I was able to flee scott free, yep that would be my new identity.

 Mine is a cautionary tale, people often ask me if I could do it over would I try another way, find another mission in life. Perhaps what I need is to find less stressful hobbies, maybe take up golf or tennis, or darts.  Those are all good hobbies, but where's the excitement really? Being idle often leads to trouble. I guess if I could do anything different, I would try and help the many people I refused to help before, try and meet new people, every new person is a question mark just waiting to be answered and see what they have to offer. Is redemption possible for me? Can I be a good person again? I feel like I could be, if only I could try harder..........if only I knew the right path...

If only.............I could stop playing Grand Theft Auto.

The convoluted backstory of El Franco Magnifico

   El Franco Magnifico was born into hard times.  His birth was a typical Mexican affair, upon his arrival into this world he was immediately wrapped in a warm blanket and a luchador mask.  He was born to loving parents, father Pepe, and mother Salte, he was the youngest in his family. Now being the youngest child certainly has its advantages, but when you are the youngest of 17 kids you tend to get lost in the shuffle.  As the 17 kids suggests, Salte and Pepe loved each other dearly from the moment they met, it was a quick courtship before the birth of their first child Juan, then along came the second child Two.  As the years passed more kids filled up the rapidly cramped home, there was Jose and JosB, Rosita, Margarita, Pablo, Marco................Polo, Debbie, their 11th child Juan Juan, Hernando, Fernando, Consuela, Dora, Hugo, and then there was little Franco.  Franco always joked that they saved the best for last and that is why they never had any kids after him, he would learn years later it was because Pepe and gotten an instant vasectomy at the hands, or should I say hind legs, of a disgruntled donkey.

  Space was limited in the tiny home, but Salte and Pepe made sure that all their kids had places to sleep, with all the beds and floor taken it was a struggle to find a spot for little Franco, but then a light bulb went off over the head of Pepe. While changing the light bulb Pepe noticed an old pinata was hanging over the ceiling, this was it, this was where Franco would sleep, Franco would later credit all the times being woken to his siblings beating him with sticks in hope for candy as a leading factor in his toughness. It was hard to form attachments to the rest of his siblings, maybe it was because the whole family wore masks, or maybe it was his Mexican nature to not want to work hard enough to introduce himself to everyone, he just found himself different from the others. He loved his parents, good hard working people, his father was a discount sombrero and poncho salesman, his scream of OHHHH PONCHO became so famous a foreign man used it as part of a television show, but Pepe never saw any money from it.

  Franco could tell times were hard so he didn't mind having to wear hand me down clothes or playing with hand me down toys (just don't give him no hand me down world, he had one already). He pretended to be surprised every Christmas when he received a "new" toy, the same "new" toy he had seen his brother's Jose and JosB playing with the week previous. He also received many new hats, although usually the hat he got for Christmas was too big, I mean it was nice but his sombrero was too big, leading to a scary stint in the hospital after receiving pneumonia when he fell three times in a river.  Falling in the river not only made him sick, it also lead to a fear of water, which was a detriment to his father Pepe's plan to take his family and leave Mexico to enter the United States. Obviously they did not have the money to buy every seat on the plane so Pepe and the older boys spent all their spare time building a house raft to try and take them to the promise land.

  Franco was opposed to the travel, he liked his life and his house, well the part of the house that wasn't used to build the raft. Franco would later credit having to jump up the stairs because certain steps were now part of the raft as a factor in his strong leaping ability. He often asked his papa Pepe why they had to leave, and Pepe would explain to him how America was a wonderful place, people there loved oranges, they even welcomed you by shooting in the guns in the air and yelling in celebration.  Franco was unsure but he could swore he often heard his papa mumble something about finding the makers of a television show and killing them, but he could never be certain. After weeks of anticipation the big day came and the family arrived to the river which would take them to their new life, all except Franco who froze on the shore, remembering the time he froze in the river. Despite the screams of his mother and father and siblings Franco did not sail that day, he ran, and he kept running as far from the river as he could, back to his home, back into his pinata bed, and with no sticks to beat him he slept for a day and half.

 Franco wondered what his next step in life would be, he was young and had to fend for himself.  How would he support himself? Maybe he could be a magician, like most Mexicans he was good at making things disappear, not just wallets, but actual magic trick like things.  While walking the streets of the local town one night he saw a group of kids running towards him, getting ready to flee but seeing no Police around he wondered what the commotion could be, it was then he saw the kids surrounding a hulk of a man, his muscles had muscles and the shiny belt around his waist was very cool.  He went up to the man and asked him who he had stolen that belt off, to which the man replied "Mil Mascaras, he wants a rematch but he will lose that too." It was then Franco figured it that he was a luchador, a Mexican wrestler, and suddenly he knew what his calling was.

 Franco knew what he wanted, and he started to train, he wanted muscles on top of muscles and he wanted that shiny belt, after weeks of pushing himself to the limit(and standing on the razor's edge) he knew he was ready.  He had the look, he had the mask, all he needed was a name, it needed to be flashy, it need to be catchy, it needed be quick cause his first match was in 5 minutes, just then a fellow luchador complimented his mask, saying it was magnificent, and then a light bulb went off over his head, he quickly changed the bulb and thus El Franco Magnifico was born.  After winning his first match, a hard fought battle, he couldn't help but wonder how his family was doing, he had hoped they were doing as well as he was.  As the months went by he wrestled as often as he could, steadily climbing the ranks until it was time for the big match, against the man he had met months prior, the man who inspired him to become a luchador.

 He trained harder then he ever had before, when he got to the arena he was ready, he was confident, he was.............scared, for he was not prepared for what he saw when he got there.  The ring was surrounded by a swimming pool, it turns out the champ had discovered his fear and asked for the ring to be placed over the water.  The roar of the raucous crowd was drowned out by the knocking of his knees, he was frozen in the corner like he was almost frozen years ago, and as the bell rang the champ took advantage. Most of the match was a brutal one sided affair, everyone in the crowd was concerned, not for the fact that a middle aged man beating up a kid who was no more then 15 was illegal but because they weren't getting their money's worth. They started to boo, and his and throw things. El Franco Magnifico knew he was in trouble, he looked at the crowd, expecting to be hit with another projectile, but what he was hit with was the image of his sainted mother and father.

   They had come to watch his big match, after seeing this he blocked everything out and fought back.  He beat the champion from pillar to post, staggering him and finally knocking the hulking beast of a man down.  With his opponent weakened he climbed the top rope and jumped like he had never jumped before, falling as fast as he did when his siblings busted open his pinata bed he crashed onto his opponent and became the new Mexican heavyweight championship.  Caught up in his celebration and the admiration of the fans he fell into the water, but the fear was gone, and he swam, and he swam some more until he reached his parents, his father gave him that big familiar smile and placed a new sombrero on his head, it was still too big but he did not care.

 El Franco would go on to have a storied career, he was idolized by kids everywhere and statues were built in his honor, he retired into a secluded life and has not been heard from since, legend has it he was the voice of the Taco Bell dog but it was never confirmed. He kept in touch with his family when he could, and was there when they needed help,such as his sister Consuela the maid who had a lemon pledge addiction. His sister Dora would later become an explorer, his brother Hugo would win the lottery but leave on a trip to Australia and never be heard from for years, muttering on and on about some island. His mother and father would design their own line of spice dispensers, and even long after their death Salte and Pepe would be on the tables of people all over the world.

  ***No Mexicans were harmed in the making of this story............a lot were offended, but none were harmed****