Saturday, June 21, 2008

Chapter Four.

“Tally ho, Louise! If you run over another midget the cops will be on us like jam on a biscuit!”

“Don’t you worry one bit, Mista Co’nelius. I know what I’m doin’.”

In reality she had no clue what she was doing. Louise had never been given a driver’s license or any sort of permit for driving a horse-car. In fact, she had never taken the driving test because the one time she tried she was kicked out of the DMV for “reeking like a prostitute,” which Louise thought was odd because she listed her stench as a skill on her resume.

Louise was driving her horse-car like a madman, weaving back and forth between lanes, speeding, and entertaining herself by flipping the radio back and forth between two stations playing the same song at slightly different times.

“Cor blimey! Keep your eyes on the road, woman!”

Cornelius should have told her to keep her eyes on the sidewalk, or even the building they were about to drive directly into.

With an ear-ringing crash the horse-car blasted through a glass wall straight into the waiting area of an office.

“What’s your, like, business?” said the young receptionist after blowing a bubble and twirling her gum, reading Us Weekly, and texting her friend about her shoes. A sign on the wall behind her read HSN: Home Shopping Network.

Cornelius knew they would have Dragon Swords because his family did a lot of business with them. Louise knew they would have Dragon Swords because she stole a sack full of them from this building a few months ago. They just had to find a way to get further in the building.

“We are here,” said Cornelius, “on official business! Yes! The most official sort!”

“Like, what kind?”

“Well we have things to deliver! Yes! Boxes and packages, you know. Brown ones.”

“Sit right there and someone will be with you in, like, five minutes.”

“Oh…Well I have to say this is very urgent. Because in my box is…”

“A bomb,” Louise finished. “It gon’ go off soon.”

“What are you doing?” whispered Cornelius. “Are you trying to have us arrested?”

The receptionist said, “Um, like, is that a bomb or not?”

“No, no. Not at all. What this is…this box is a... a box full of parrots! Yes, parrots! From Tanzania! No, no, from Madagascar! Yes, Madagascarian Parrots!”

“Oh, okay. Well then you’re gonna, like, have to wait in the Parrot Room.”

Cornelius didn’t have the time to wait and the Parrot Room smelled more like a Parrot Crap Room. He knew the Dragon Sword was waiting for him just behind the walls. Luckily he had once learned an incredibly effective tactic for distracting receptionists at a British Royal Navy training seminar he broke into.

“Hey!” he said. “Look over there!”

“Um, what?”

Cornelius turned to Louise and said, “Now!”

They held hands and ran straight through the wall. Actually, Louise got straight through but Cornelius ran right into a stud and had to break through a different part of wall after nursing his bruised forehead.

Cornelius and Louise ran through a hallway and people stared. Louise gave them the finger. More people stared, so Louise flashed her breasts. More people stared, so she removed all her clothes, did a vulgar dance that offended nearly everyone present, and left a trail of bodily fluids on the floor. No one stared anymore.

They opened a door to find a man wearing a suit talking to a camera about Dragon Swords.

“Aw yeah,” said Louise. “This is it. That’s my Dragon Sword!”

It was. The host was selling the very same Dragon Sword Louise loved so dearly.

“Here she is, the real deal. A genuine Dragon Sword complete with ceramic dragon, painted hilt, and blade sharp enough for cleanly cutting through bones!”

Louise looked through her purse to find some money to buy one while the host continued, “It can be yours for only three payments of $29.99!”

“Aw no!” said Louise. She only found forty nickels, a rotting peach, and a sock she had used as a contraceptive more than three times.

“What seems to be the problem, Miss Louise?” said Cornelius.

“I ain’t got enough money fo’ my Dragon Sword!”

“Oh, no problem.”

Cornelius approached the host with his umbrella drawn. “Hello, sir. By any chance are you allergic to applesauce?”

“As a matter of fact I am.”

“Well take this!”

Squirt squirt squirt. Cornelius blasted him with applesauce from his umbrella. The host screamed for his life before melting into a puddle on the floor. Cornelius selected a sword from a table full of them and gave it to Louise.

“Here you are. One Dragon Sword.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks, Co’nelius!”

“No problem, Louise. I’m always looking for an opportunity to squirt applesauce on those allergic to it and steal things on television.”

Louise and Cornelius walked through the building, waved to the receptionist, and got in the horse car. Louise looked at Cornelius.

“I’m sorry I have to do this. Bwahh!”

She stabbed him with the Dragon Sword while making strange noises. As he bled, Cornelius suddenly realized he had seen Louise on the news as a wanted felon on the run from a stabbing trial. She lost her Dragon Sword in her last victim. Louise Loupise was somewhat of an urban legend in those parts.

After stabbing Cornelius, Louise realized she had nowhere to put his body and had to drive around with it for a half an hour in traffic before dumping it at the McDonald’s Playplace ball pit like she always did.

Twenty minutes after she dropped him off and finished her McShaker salad a boy saw his body in the ball pit. “Hey, mister! Are you dead?”

After a pause Cornelius’s eerie voice said, “Not quite…I will get that disgusting prostitute if it’s the last thing I do…Also, could you help me out? I ate a chicken nugget on the ground in here and I think I contracted Lyme disease.”

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