Part 2:
Flashlights in hand. Dressed in black. All systems go.
“Dale? Commence breaking and entering.”
“Blinking and entering!” he chirped.
We vanished and reemerged into the shadows of a musty office.
Desks and computers came into view.
One specific computer was the target: Joe Fardelee’s.
We snooped among coffee mugs and calendars. Family photos. Sweaters on chairs.
It was like the dullest haunted house ever assembled.
But the bland building ... soon unleashed horrors.
A monster – a fiend – appeared in the night.
Slashing me deep.
Cold metal demolished my knee.
A file cabinet!
“Dale? Commence breaking and entering.”
“Blinking and entering!” he chirped.
We vanished and reemerged into the shadows of a musty office.
Desks and computers came into view.
One specific computer was the target: Joe Fardelee’s.
We snooped among coffee mugs and calendars. Family photos. Sweaters on chairs.
It was like the dullest haunted house ever assembled.
But the bland building ... soon unleashed horrors.
A monster – a fiend – appeared in the night.
Slashing me deep.
Cold metal demolished my knee.
A file cabinet!
Neither of its drawers showed a hint of remorse.
I stumbled for the nearest desk, but found no smooth surface of oak or maple.
No, something else awaited me.
My palm thumped down atop a cactus!
I recoiled and crashed limply to the floor.
It’s an odd feeling, smashing a cactus.
You sadly stare at the needles in your skin.
You wish you could go back, just mere seconds, to avoid your fate.
Then you rush for tweezers, to remove the spiky invaders.
But far from home, with no tweezers … you realize you're stuck with a hand of agony.
And then your family starts talking.
“Flamin’ marbles! Are you OK?” Dale asked. “Geez, that looked bad.”
“Totally amazing,” Rick said. “You just high-fived a cactus!”
I stumbled for the nearest desk, but found no smooth surface of oak or maple.
No, something else awaited me.
My palm thumped down atop a cactus!
I recoiled and crashed limply to the floor.
It’s an odd feeling, smashing a cactus.
You sadly stare at the needles in your skin.
You wish you could go back, just mere seconds, to avoid your fate.
Then you rush for tweezers, to remove the spiky invaders.
But far from home, with no tweezers … you realize you're stuck with a hand of agony.
And then your family starts talking.
“Flamin’ marbles! Are you OK?” Dale asked. “Geez, that looked bad.”
“Totally amazing,” Rick said. “You just high-fived a cactus!”
I leaned back and rested my head on the cool, comforting linoleum.
“Josephine? We’ll help you up. Just be careful not to, you know, stick me. With your quills. I bet that really hurts.”
The sound of Rick’s stupid, cackling laughter filled my ears.
And with that, our search resumed.
Carefully.
Twisting and weaving through more halls.
Exploring the dark corners of new rooms.
Ultimately leading to a paneled office with maps covering the walls.
The nameplate revealed the owner.
We stood, gloriously, at the desk of the one-and-only Joe Fardelee.
The triumphant moment shattered ... by the sound of gagging?
A chair bumped over and Dale flung out backwards from the desk.
His head drooped and his whole body shook.
Dale barfed!
“Josephine? We’ll help you up. Just be careful not to, you know, stick me. With your quills. I bet that really hurts.”
The sound of Rick’s stupid, cackling laughter filled my ears.
And with that, our search resumed.
Carefully.
Twisting and weaving through more halls.
Exploring the dark corners of new rooms.
Ultimately leading to a paneled office with maps covering the walls.
The nameplate revealed the owner.
We stood, gloriously, at the desk of the one-and-only Joe Fardelee.
The triumphant moment shattered ... by the sound of gagging?
A chair bumped over and Dale flung out backwards from the desk.
His head drooped and his whole body shook.
Dale barfed!
“Are you ok? What happened?”
“Bugs,” he said.
“You’re allergic to bugs?” Genevieve asked.
“Not bugs. Traps.”
Long-lasting roach bombs!
Curious Dale had sniffed deeply.
He now mumbled apologies with pepperoni bits stuck in his mane.
I settled down next him, my good hand on his back, and wondered if maybe this was a bad idea.
*********************************
~They may call us fools (us foools),
~We may make the news (the neeews),
~But damn all the headlines, baby,
~Can’t stop the Vehicular Grandpa Blues.
“Bugs,” he said.
“You’re allergic to bugs?” Genevieve asked.
“Not bugs. Traps.”
Long-lasting roach bombs!
Curious Dale had sniffed deeply.
He now mumbled apologies with pepperoni bits stuck in his mane.
I settled down next him, my good hand on his back, and wondered if maybe this was a bad idea.
*********************************
~They may call us fools (us foools),
~We may make the news (the neeews),
~But damn all the headlines, baby,
~Can’t stop the Vehicular Grandpa Blues.