From the skulls of my enemies, I drink my morning coffee...
June 21, 2016 · Phoenix, AZ
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It's very early in the morning. I
agreed to help a friend and cover his shift. It is so early in the morning that
God is not even awake yet. I drag myself out of bed mumbling various expletives
under my breath as I go let the dog out. Knowing it was going to be an early
start, I prepped the coffee maker the night before and all I had to do was
grind the beans and push a button. So simple, even a cave man could do it. With
only one eye open and working, I could hear that magical serenade of the
hissing and gurgling as the clear flavorless liquid was being transformed into
a steaming sense of reality. With the dog having been let out, there was only
one morning chore left undone... my morning constitutional in the executive
reading room.
With that same eye still not working
yet, I sat near motionless as I pondered the meaning of life while attempting
to peruse the same magazine for the 976th time, as if I was to glean
any great wisdom that could not be found in the previous 975 times. My time of reflection and
pondering came to a startling halt as I was attacked by a giant pterodactyl. It
came out of nowhere and made a circle of death around the room as if it were
claiming its territory. Horrified and screaming like a girl, I sat paralyzed
knowing fully well that the exhaust fan was sending my screams of terror out to
a cold and uncaring universe. With no hope of backup, I had to make a decision;
twas it gonna be fight or flight?
It doesn't matter how many marathons a person
has run or how many bad guys have been chased down, there is no quick escape
when your chonies are down around your ankles. The decision was now left to
fate. I must fight for my life with two working eyes and an old magazine, I
prepared to defend my sanctuary. As insectus pterodactus made a direct frontal
assault, I swing the tool of mass destruction with a swift overhead two handed
broad stroke resulting in a direct miss. My now keen razor-sharp vision locks
into the flying menace like the radar on a F-35. I use an overhead sideways S
stroke that delivers on target. Like thunder in a mountain canyon, the impact
sends this prehistoric creature spiraling to a certain death. As the carnage
spills out on the floor, I puff up with pride knowing my manhood is still
intact. My training and experience have taught me it is not over until it is
over. I throw the old magazine on top of
the beast until I can assure death and victory. With a crunch and a pop, it is
all over but the celebrating. As the adrenaline rages through my body, I spin
around like a whirling dervish. About halfway through my second spin I catch a
glimpse of myself in the mirror and realize, I just don't look good naked
anymore.
Choosing to forgo the tradition of
drinking from the skull of my enemy, I clean the carnage like a crime scene
technician. Systematically removing the bits and pieces and the nasty bug juice
and provide my worthy foe with a swirling burial at sea. I strut pridefully from the battleground to
start the day with both eyes wide open and working.
Being a man that knows the importance
of caring for those that care for them, I quietly sneak in to kiss my beautiful
princess bride before I head out to whatever battles await me. As I tip toe
into the still darkened room to plant a gentle reminder of my affection, I trip
over the dog and do a flying screaming body slam as I land on her royal
highness. Barely awakened she thanks me for the kiss, wishes me a good day and
goes back to sleep. Chasing the sunrise, I make my way to the salt mines. Just
beyond the point of no return while still basking in the glory of my victory, I
realize, I never did get that cup of coffee. Just sayin'.
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