Monday, February 6, 2012

UFS: (Unidentified Flying Sausages) Part 13


It was at that precise moment that the butler gnome decided to bring in the next course of our meal. He walked into the dining hall in a miniature tuxedo caring the tray of round hot sizzling sausages over his head. As soon as he noticed the assassin in the room holding the silver dueling handgun, he dropped the sausages to the floor with a squeak and ran from the room babbling nonsense.

I looked at the sausages lying on the floor and looked meaningfully at Chris. She caught my glance out of the corner of her eye, but didn’t give away that she had seen my gesture. She knew what I wanted her to do. I could see the little vein appearing on her forehead as it always did when she was concentrating super hard.
I of course began to stall for time. “Who are you!?” I demanded as if I already hadn’t figured it out.

“I am an assassin, of course you puerile twit, and I’m here to recuperate the cheese for Lord El Stinko. “You’ll understand, his Excellency doesn’t take kindly to pilfering. It’s simply unadorned vulgarity. If you don’t yield the cheese, I have been mandated to terminate you.”

Not if you get a face full of sausage first! I thought to myself with some measure of satisfaction as I noticed the tray of sausages on the floor wiggling menacingly.

“I see,” I said carefully, “and do you expect us to yield the cheese so easily?”

“Why certainly, that is if you value your unspeakably bleak and non-principled actualities you ought to evidently hand over the cheese.” Sir Champagne said smugly. He was confident that he had us trapped.
There was a sudden explosion of sausages, the greasy missiles flew through the air toward Sir Champagne, and struck him in various places on his face! He squealed like a woman and dropped his silvery long handgun to the floor and began swatting at the grease smudges on his face. I hoped that some of the spicy juices from the delicious deli product would get into his eyes and buy us just a bit more time to escape! And perhaps cause permanent blindness.

 Chrysanthemum had done her part and now it was my turn. I began to concentrate. If my calculation was correct then the bigger the object was the more difficult it would be to vanish, and so I focused on the gun on the floor. Sir Champagne was no longer holding it in his hand and so I would be able to get rid of it separately without having to bring the assassin with the gun.

“Curse you brats,” The knight screamed at us.

“Come on and do it already!” Chris screamed at me urgently.

I was focusing as hard as I could; it was our only hope of getting out of this room without being shot.
The gun began to quiver slightly, and I felt the overwhelming exhilarating feeling of power flowing through my body like a torrent of water, but just then the assassin did something completely unexpected, he began to sing. And he wasn’t singing just anything… It was opera!

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