The Face Issue #2: Road to Disaster: Episode 7
We watched, stupified, as Tim foolishly sped off into the highway. Cars whisked by at unimaginable speeds, one after another. There was no way Tim would survive. We had no idea what to do. The nonsensical Timothy reached the first lane.
"Hmm, looks like this is where all those hours of frogger pay off," Tim thought to himself.
Quickly, he perceived a small gap between a speeding mustang and a slow-dragging subaru.
"Be, frogger, think frogger!" He yelled, and safely he passed the first lane.
There was no time to lose, if he stopped now, he'd be as flat as a pancake and it would be game over. The aberrant Tim took the ever-memorable stance of a persistent frogger. Thinking irrationally but quickly, Tim leapt into the second lane, and barely escaped being rear-ended by an SUV. He then made a perfectly executed tumble into the third lane. A station wagon was speedily heading toward Tim, but he repeated a frogger-worthy leap across the fourth lane and ran down to his left. He had seen another gap. But a problem arose. Heavy gusts surrounded him as cars flashed by. Tim was being pushed back by the strong winds. Soon they combined to form small whirlwinds.
"Crap!" Tim cried.
Stephen and I watched in avid interest at the suspenseful scene, as if we were watching the last few seconds of a climactic game of canadian curling. Tim didn't have much time. In a matter of seconds he delved into his deep Video Gaming Knowledge, the other giant filing cabinet of his uncanny mind. Then, he had an idea.
"Wind Waker....Of course! If I choose the right whirlwind, then it will successfully toss me to the other side!" He cried.
We saw as Tim raised up his arm in triumph, only we didn't know what in the world was goin on.
"What's he doing?" Stephen asked, puzzled.
"I have no idea. He's crazy." I answered.
Then, in complete and utter shock and surprise, we saw Tim heading towards one of the whirlwinds.
"You fool! You'll be tossed to your doom!" I cried.
But over the loud honks, and vociferous whooshes, apparently Tim could not hear a word I said. During this time, the whirlwind had grown quite immense. Slowly it rose Tim up over the highway into the air -- a safe haven from the hazardous highway.
"It's working!" He cried. "Now it's time to see if my wind calculations are correct!"
Stephen and I watched in amazement as Tim sat inside of the whirlwind. But only time would tell where he would end up. Finally Tim was brought afloat overtop of the gust. We waited in anxiety to see what happened next. The whirlwind slowly began convulsing, in an upward-downward motion. Slowly it spasmed at first, then the speed increased, until finally Tim was blown high up into the air. Tim's plan had worked. He was heading for the other side of the highway, but where he landed was an entirely different problem. Tim looked at the tough, hard-covered sidewalk that lay below. Closer and closer the concrete came.
"Craaaaaaaaap!" He cried as he fell from the air.
Stephen and I stared at the airbone Tim. He fell and fell until we could see him no more, and then we heard a loud thud upon the ground.
"Whuh-oh!" Stephen cried. "You think he's okay?" he asked.
We saw a hand in the very long distance promoting a bruised but living thumbs up.
"Ah jolly good." Steven said.
Tim got up for a moment, staggering as a drunk man would. In a battered tone he spoke, "Hey....you guys.....come on. It's...not so......bad Uhhhhh..." after a small sigh Tim collapsed and was removed of consciousness. Stephen peered over the lanes in disbelief.
"Umm.....hey there!" Stephen yelled. "We still need you to find us a way to get across!" he said.
But it was no use, Tim was out cold. "It's no use," I told him. "Tim's out cold." I thought for a minute contemplating on a decision to make. "Alright. You know what this means," I began in a solemn tone. "We must also cross this hazardous highway."
"Are you kidding me!?" Stephen cried. "No.....no.....I can't do this. I'm going home." Stephen rebelled.
"What!? You're abandoning us now?!" I asked in confusion.
Stephen remained silent.
"Do it for Landra!" I cried. "Even if you don't love her anymore," I beckoned.
But alas, Stephen would not change his mind. He continued his silence.
"She's still your friend, isn't she!?" I cried.
In an awfully serious tone, he answered, "I'm sorry. I...I just can't do this. Not when things between Ashlie and I are blooming. I...I can't risk my life like this." I stood there and thought for a moment.
"Fine, then." I replied. "Have it your way. But remember this, whenever a friend is in need, just remember the time when you turned your back when someone needed you most."
And at that, Stephen turned from the highway and began his trek back home.
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I continued forward without Stephen. I stepped back a few steps and began a run. As I headed toward the runway I caught sight of something horrible heading towards me. It was another whirlwind.
"No!" I cried.
I began running in the other direction. But still, it kept chasing me, like a heat-seeking missile. "Get back! Back I say! Back!" I demanded.
Unfortunately, the whirlwinds, like most others, did not obey my commands. It gained speed and was closing in on me. Inch by inch it crept closer. A cold sweat began to overtake me. I ran as fast as I could, but my efforts were futile. Closer and closer the whirlwind drew, no matter what direction I ran toward. I could hear the sound of gushing winds growing in my eardrums. "The disastrous tornado is ripping through everything in its path!" I thought, "and I am next".
Finally, it approached me, and engulfed me in a series of whirling winds. I braced myself in defense, but to my surprise, the tornado was not rigorous. Gently, I was lifted into the air, and the whirlwind floated me across the rampaging highway. It stopped on the sidewalk across the street, and slowly hovered me down. Then in a matter of seconds, the whirlwind disappeared. Awestruck at the events that occured, I stood in my place, my mouth gaping open. Seconds later, I snapped out of my amazement, when Tim sporradically leapt up and cried, "Are we there yet?"
I looked in front of me and low and behold the Star Dollars Cafe was set before me. In a triumphant tone, I replied to Tim, "Yes, Tim. We're here."
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There was one hour left until Kaitlyn Grimm would arrive at the cafe, but to no surprise, our grand pal and co-worker, Samantha was on the scene quite early.
"Quick!" I cried. "We've got to hide."
Tim and I scrambled to find places to conceal us. I hid behind a tree, and Tim, a mailbox. Tim still had the bag of costume equipment in his possession.
"Psssst!" Tim whispered. "I'm gonna toss the goods over to ya, and you find some place to put them on! Heeyah!" Tim cried in a loud whisper, and with all his might, he tossed the bag of goods over to me.
I stood, hands outstretched, ready to catch the bag. Unfortunatly, Tim overestimated the amount of force he had put into the bag, so it landed about halfway between the tree and the mailbox.
"Great," I thought to myself.
Then, I heard Samantha speaking. She was with her camera man.
"Ugh! Can't the boss spend more money on competent camera men!" she cried in disgust. "I ask for a top of the line video man and they send me this oafish Boo Radley from Southern Georgia!"
The old-looking camera man shuffled his feet.
"Pawdon mee ma'am," he pardoned in a strongly southern accent. "Tha name's Bradley, Bradley Davis. Ahm sorruh Ar'm nawt mo' citee-lak. Bet I wuz thuh bes' darwn juniuh eggs-ecative camrah man of tha day ways back when Ah was in Jawjuh," Bradley apologized.
"Errg....that strong southern accent." Samantha shuddered. "I can't stand it!"
The juniuh eggs-ecative camrah man fumbled to set up his camera. While this happened, Tim brought up an interesting notion.
"I didn't know the Daily Times did news footage. I thought we were a newspaper company," he said.
"Apparently, there's alot unknown about the Daily Times." I replied. "I mean, it makes me wonder. What are all those other floors for? Our builidng is quite large. Who knows, they could have a secret laboratory distributing clones of an evil mutant!" I suggested sarcastically, amusing Tim.
"You think!?" Tim said seriously. "This would be a conspiracy of a life time, and I could get the scoop on it! Ha!" he thought. "You know I have noticed that some of the bathrooms had some sort of green-like ooze glopped on them. But then again, I just thought it was snot." Tim said.
We heard Samantha burst out, "You fool! That's not how you put a camera together!" She yelled. And being the "expert" that she was, Samantha swiped the camera away from Bradley and began fumbling with it herself. Tim saw this as an opportunity, "Hurry! Get the bag now!" he cried.
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Humbly agreeing, I rushed over to where the bag lay, seized it, and quickly darted into the building right next to it.
I casually walked into the building with my bag of goods, not knowing exactly where I was, for I had failed to read the sign while I was darting my way inside of the shop. Unfortunately, to my discontent, it was a bridal store.
A french-looking man in a black suit came up to me and asked, "Ex-cusey moi, sir, but are you perhaps in the wrong store, or simply looking for a dress for your wife-to-be?"
I hid the bag of goods behind my back and replied, "Uhh....neither."
Looking around the store, I asked, "Um, do you by any chance have any fitting rooms?" The clerk looked at me and raised a brow in puzzlement.
"Err....yes sir, right down near the back. Then you turn right." he said.
"Thank you," I saluted him, then turned to leave, and heard the clerk utter something in French.
I walked down to the back of the store, examining all the weird-looking expensive dresses that no one in their right mind would pay for, and turned right to reach the fitting room. I entered and locked it. As I was putting my trenchcoat on, I began to hear peculiar noises. At first, I didn't think anything of it, but as I put on my gloves and my hat, I heard the noises more clearly. They sounded like voices, coming from the opposite side of the wall in the dressing room.
"Hhhmmmm." I thought. "What could possibly be going on in the back of a bridal store?" I thought to myself. "But with such outrageous prices.....and bad taste in bridal designs, maybe this is worth checking out."
Feeling curious, I started for my mask. Then I examined it. "What the!?" I realized. "If there are no eyeholes, how the furgburg am I gonna see through this thing!?" I cried in puzzlement. "Great thinking, Tim," I thought to myself.
I pocketed the mask, and pressed my ear against the wall. Sure enough, the noises were voices, yet I could not understand them. The sounds were muffled by the wall. "There must be some way to get in there." I thought. "Maybe there's a secret button or something. If I just feel around the wall, like in those movies on TV, I'll find the button relatively easily. It always works!" I assured myself. So I began feeling around the wall for any weird bumps, levers, or buttons. After seconds of searching, like in all movies and tv shows, I found a button, it was underneath the bench of my fitting room. I pushed it, and heard something move. It was most likely a secret passage way. I left my own fitting room and searched the others. After searching three fitting rooms thoroughly I came upon the very last one, which had a rather large sign hanging on the door. I examined it, as any detective would, and found that it read in large, bold red letters, "SECRET PASSAGEWAY, ENTER HERE."
"Hmmm," I contemplated what this sign meant in my mind, and soon I had figured out its purpose. "This must be where the secret passage way is." I deduced. After making this deduction, I entered, and sure enough, an immense hole had opened in the wall of the small fitting room.
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I stepped in it cautiously, keeping as silent as could be. "Interesting." I thought. I crept into what looked like a dark cave, crudely built, wet and damp. I heard the voices growing louder as I strode deeper into the passageway. Finally I came to a small room with the lights turned on. I crept near the wall, and flattened my back against it. Slowly I peered from the side into the room, and eavesdropped on the conversation.
"So, Johnny, how much do you think the boss'll pay us for dis one?" An unkown voice asked.
"I dunno, Shep, I dunno. Judging that she's the mayor's daughter, I think we'll get a pretty sweet payoff." Unknown voice#2 said.
I peered into the room, I could see one tall man, one short and a few others, dressed in black suits, black shoes, black hats, and black sunglasses. The short man was smoking a cigarette, while holding a deck of cards. It seemed as they were avid players of poker.
The tall man asked the short one, "Hey, you got any threes?"
And the short one replied, in a high, bronx type accent, "Go fish."
I could see two other members in the room as well. One was in the corner, and looked to be a few inches taller than the short man. He looked to be about my age, his early twenties. He was of the serious-looking sort. He had dark brown hair as well, but the difference between him and the rest was that he was wearing a gold pendant on his neck. He was staring blankly into space. I stepped back for a moment.
The man in the corner said, "Someone's here. I can sense it." I froze in fright and listened.
Disbelieving, the short member said, "What? I didn't hear nuthin'. You're hearin' things. I gotta say, that goil of yours has really got you noivous."
The man in the corner looked down to his feet.
He replied, "I know, it's just that.....I told her I had quit the mob. But if she ever finds out I'm still working with you, she'll be the one gunning for me," he finished.
"Aye, buck up laddie." The fourth man said. He seemed to be Scottish. This was a bit strange for me, for I had never known a mob member that had a Scottish accent. But then again, I'd never had any encounters with the mob before the bus incident.
The Scottish man continued, "Ya best be standin up to her everynow and then, she's makin a softie outta ya dontcha know."
I sighed in relief, they were straying away from the subject... But there was a problem, the problem of how I'd deal with these guys.
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I looked around for any signs of a solution, and I found it. On the the wall was another button, and it was labeled, "Silent Alarm."
"What kinda idjit puts a silent alarm in his hideout?" I questioned. "Heh, I'll just push this button to notify the police and they'll be here to arrest these guys in minutes." So I lifted my hand, and leaned in to press the button. I heard the click, and breathed in satisfaction. However, that breath of satisfaction was short lived, when loud sirens burst out through the ceiling, and a booming voice echoed about the area crying, "SILENT ALARM ACTIVATED!"
I could hear the Scottish man curse in his own language, "Curse me bagpipes! You were right laddie! Someone is trying to spy on us!"
The short man replied, "It's a good thing we installed that "silent" alawm, eh, guys?" He chuckled. "Barney, you go check it out." he said.
"Aye, Johnny, will do." Upon hearing this I scrambled to look for some place to hide myself.
"Shoot, what should I do!?" I asked myself anxiously.
I looked around for a place to hide....nothing. I looked for some sort of weapon.....nothing. Finally I reached into my pocket and pulled out my mask.
"At least he won't be able to identify me with this on!" I whispered. So I put on the facelss mask and stood blindly in my place. I heard footsteps coming my way and I was clumsily trying to find my way around the cave. I needed to get out and fast. I bumped into the wall, and turned the other way, unfortunately, it felt as if the Scottish man was right there.
"Curse me kilt! Someone is here! And....and....he's got no face! AAAAAAHH!" he cried in terror. "By the power of Loch Ness, please save me! Oh Leprachaun of fate, grant me good fortune from this terrible evil! Aaaaaaahhh!" He screamed.
It seemed as though Johnny came out to see what was the trouble.
"What's goin on heah, Bawney?" Johhny thundered.
It seemed as though Barney was suffering from shock and nervous terror.
"His face.....hi's got no face! It was horrible! Horrible!" He testified.
Johnny looked at him like he was mentally ill. "Oh yeah?" he said. "He'll have no face, when I'm done beatin this crow baw into him." Johnny yelled angrily.
Quickly I scrambled out of the passage way and back into the fitting room, I felt my way to the door of the secret entrance. I looked behind, but remembered I couldn't see, but then I heard Johnny say something.
"My gawsh, He ain't have no face! You were right, Bawns! But still, this guy ain't gonna make it out alive."
I turned away and took off the mask, fleeing as fast as I could from the fitting rooms.
The french man asked as I zoomed by, "Excusey mwo, sir, but would zhyou like to buy anything?"
I replied hastily, "No-thanks-gotta-go-by-the-way-did-you-know-there's-a-mob-consorting-in-the-back-of-your-store?" and off I went out the door.
"A mob? What looney Americans," the French man concluded. At that moment the fitting room doors flung open and the four black-suited mob men roamed the area.
"Where'd that trench-coat-wearin' punk run off to?" Johnny thundered again.
"Soucre Bleu!" The french man cried. "Aaaahhhh...." he trailed off and collapsed in a faint.
"Lousy French-speaking french guy." Johnny complained. "Come on boys, spread out! We gotta find that trench-coat wearing weasel and get ridda him!" At that, they assumed group formation, and fled out the door.
