Crow staggered drunkenly to the side of Donagh MacBran. The youth had behaved threateningly to the grizzled reporter earlier, but he wasn’t afraid. He hadn’t survived this long in a rough-and-tumble business by heeding the threats of young toughs.
“Okay, kid,” he said, quickly establishing his superiority in age and experience. “You want to take us on a road trip, well that’s fine. But this is a daily newspaper, not some seed catalog, we have deadlines! You better have us back here and heading toward some resolution within an hour or two, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
He stared balefully at the blond youth, who had taken a step backward, but it was the Burning G.W. Bush who spoke.
“Donagh, Donagh,” the Burning G.W. intoned. And Donagh answered, “Yes, I am here.” Then the flaming shrub said, “Take off your sandals; the place where you are standing is holy ground.”
“Not bloody likely,” whispered Tinne to Azrienoch. “Holy ground? This is The Duck, and you know folks don’t always hit those spittoons! No way am I taking off me shoes.”
The Bush didn’t notice this aside, and now he continued, for Donagh and several others had removed their shoes, though Crow, who hadn’t been wearing any to begin with, just shook his head and scribbled.
“I am the president,” said the hot-and-smoking hedge. “I am the son of George, brother of Jeb, father of the slutty twins.”
Donagh now covered his face, for he was afraid to look upon the piping-hot politician.
“WHAT WERE YOU DOING LOOKING THROUGH A PEEPHOLE?” shouted Lady MoonChaser, who would not be distracted from the invasion of her privacy.
But the Bush continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard. “I have seen Beith’s suffering and have come down from the Oval Office to rescue her.”
Alferian, noticing that the only pain the still-snoring Beith was likely to be suffering was from some of her leaves and twigs that had begun to smoke due to their proximity to the sizzling leader of the free world, threw a full glass of Guinness on her to cool her off. Beith sighed, then belched, but quickly settled back into her drooling doze.
“You seek the green crystal,” the G.W. Bush drawled. “Go ye then to Texas, to the Mountain of Guadalupe. Seek the green crystal there.”
“YEEHAW!” hollered Selene, her Texas heritage showing as she thought about the opportunity to get some real down-home barbecue.
“PERVERT,” shouted Lady MoonChaser.
The G.W. Bush then raised his arm, and the entire ceiling of the Foggy Duck turned to roiling smoke and clouds. There was a flash, and the whole assemblage was transported to a rocky mountaintop.
Crow looked at his watch, which rattled loosely on his stick-like leg. Well, everyone’s here, he thought, everyone but Beith, who presumably was still slobbering all over the floor back at the Duck.
He thought about his deadline then shrugged, “Good-for-nothing editors will just have to pick up the slack,” he thought, and then aloud he said, “OK, who’s going to lead this expedition now?”
Last edited by Crow
on 03 Apr 2004, 19:29, edited 2 times in total.
“You can't study the darkness by flooding it with light.” ~ Edward Abbey