Explanation For A Friend

Some months ago my GoB needed an explanation for lipstick in his old jacket pocket. He could not remember where the lipstick came from, and asked for possible sources. I replied. Browsing through his old posts I rediscovered my reply, was amused, and thought I'd share it. It goes a little something like this:

"Your name was Kazimir Svobodnik, and you were on the westbound train in Munich with your lover and fellow spy, the ravishing but deadly Liesl Eberstark. Leisl had just emerged from deep cover as a double-agent with a splinter group of former KGB who had entered into a dangerous game as arms traders. Liesl had stolen blueprints for a heavily-guarded missile technology and a kilo of weapons-grade isotopes, which she now kept inside her makeup case under her seat.

Suddenly, shots were fired in the car behind yours. Without looking back, you and Leisl lunged from your seats and ran for the next car, pulling your weapons from inside your dress jackets.

As you burst through the doors to the next car, a startled woman screamed, and then began to panic when she saw the weapons you both held. Having no time to quiet the innocent, Leisl gracefully shot the woman and her two companions in the forehead, silencing them and leaving the two of you alone in the train car.

Croutched behind the door listening for your pursuers, you and Leisl locked eyes. You'd been here before, and she was a powerful ally. Moments like these made you love her ever more powerfully. You needed her flesh, right then and there, and she mocked you with her eyes when she spied the erection in your heavy woolen trousers.

'Oh, darling,' she whispered. And that was all. She looked up to the window in the door as a sound came from the previous train car, and your eyes followed the direction of the sound, as well.

Suddenly you felt a mist in your face, and looked to see Leisl screwing the fake bottom back into her lipstick.

'I'll miss you, Kaz,' she whispered.

At once, the horror of your situation was apparent. Leisl had obtained the banned Soviet memory-eradication spray, and had used it on you. She was going to keep the isotopes for herself. You had only seconds, and your consciousness was fading already. There was no time for your anger or betrayal.

'I love you, Leisl. For now,' you muttered, and watched as she carelessly tipped the lipstick container off her fingertips and into your jacket pocket. She gave you a regretful look, stood, and ran through to the next car. You watched her, knowing that as your consciousness left you, so did your identity.

The next thing you knew, you were a homosexual computer programmer living in San Francisco."

Takedown

We were late for a lunch meeting so we were hurriedly walking to the restaurant through the historic part of downtown Honolulu. On our left we passed the Kawaiaha`o Church and a Japanese wedding party descending down its steps.

We rushed down the empty sidewalk, mindlessly navigating around a bus stop or other obstacle and talking about Churches and my buddies’ marriage-minded girlfriends. As we did, we glanced over our shoulders periodically to watch the bride bask at the top of the stairs like Makapu`u Lighthouse shining amongst a night of dark Japanese suits.

We approached two elderly women standing on the edge of the sidewalk waiting to cross, but they stood still and were well out of our path. I glanced over to the Church again as we talked about its popularity with the Japanese.

And then I was tested.

The more elderly of the two women was once a powerful but evil master of sciences and Kung Fu, and she used these tools to achieve her sinister ends. Using complex calculations based on her vast knowledge of physics and informed by her studies of Cheetah style martial arts, she timed her attack perfectly. While my head was turned to see the bride giggle and sway, Auntie launched herself into my path in an attempt to undo me for the last time.

But devious Auntie Cheetah was no match for my years of training at Shaolin Locomotive Monastery.

I never saw her coming and I barreled into her like a steam engine hits a cow. All I knew was that I had struck something with my chest that shouldn’t ought to have been there. I came to an abrupt halt, but Auntie absorbed my kinetic energy and began to crumple downward and toward the Church in a desperately pleading sort of slow-mo. Foolish mortal. As though the Church could save her now.

I stood in shock, almost completely unable to react, as my 70 year old nemesis collapsed. My friends, who had seen her leap at me but had no time to warn me, tried to slow her fall, but it was no use. No mere Grandma can stand after being struck by a man in Locomotive Stance.

We helped her up from the concrete and immediately began to abase ourselves. Auntie’s sidewalk companion yelled accusations of premeditated assault and attempted foul play. Finally, after everyone was confirmed uninjured and we promised for the fourteenth time that it was an accident, we were allowed to leave.

But I’m keeping my eye out for Grandma. She may be frail, but she is wise, vengeful, and she has powerful allies. Thank goodness for Locomotive Stance.