Fun little game: Part Deux, continued...
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Walking away with his head down and a tear forming, Tobobo thought to himself that he should have handled that better. Kevin came away thinkng.....
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Thank goodness there was a ledge just two meters down. Wow, the incredible To-Bob-O is my dad? That explains . . .
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...yellowish complexion and bulging eyes."
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... my sharp intelligence and interest in botany and landscape design ... but how does Tobobo's evil ways fit into this? Unless he was once, like me - a little goody-two-shoes - and has been forced to the dark side by . . .
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the need to pay off his gambling debt before his family gets "offed".
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While Kevin the Office Tea Boy (whatever that is) was pondering these things, a bird alighted on the ledge. Forever saddled with a morbid fear of birds ever since the infamous and embarrassing chicken farm incident, Kevin the Office Tea Boy (whatever that is) screamed like a little girl and gave a jump. Unfortunately, being on a ledge, there was nothing else to jump onto. Had this been a cartoon (and who's to say it isn't), one would have seen the comical yet resigned look on our hero's face as he floated there in space for a second before gravity overcame him and he plunged downward to the busy street below.
Oh, No! Is this the end of Kevin? Will he ever fetch a cup of tea again?
Never fear, gentle readers (and brutish ones, too), for right before our accident-prone subject matter expected himself to go SPLAT! on the pavement, he found himself in a crumpled heap in the back seat of a fast moving convertible. Pulling his ankle from behind his neck, Kevin pulled himself up to a sitting position to see that the car was being driven by none other than...
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Martina!
"Kevin, we need you for another mission, this one is going to be cold" Martina explained over the noise of the roaring V8. "You'll have to go and investigate reports of penguins being magnetised to the side of ships"
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"No I'm not! ... and you can't make me!" he screamed again - this time just like a little boy.
The convertible came to a screaming halt. Martina and her thigh-high leather boots got out.
She lowered her face to the bespectacled, pouting tea-boy, sulking on the back-seat and said quietly and with some degree of sincerity ... -
"Vee have wayz of making little boyz comply", at the same time making snipping gesture with here fingers in the direction of his groin.
Kevin the Office Tea Boy (whatever that is) stared at her blankly, the meaning of the gesture lost to him.
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Martina, realizing she was dealing with a courageous, though guileless member of the opposite sex, tried another tack - bribery.
"Martina weell geeve Keevie a braand new, geenuine, straw cowboy haat - jeest leeck the one Heeth Leedger vore in zat cowboy movie, if you do zis"
Kevin immediately stopped his whinging and whining and asked, eagerly,
"Just like the one Daniel wears?"
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Please, please, please.
I just love the way it looks. It's much better than the straw boater with the black ribbon I usually wear.
By the way Martina, what do you want me to do in exchange for this wonderful gift?
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Martina sighed "Go to the south pole and look in the penguin situation"
Kevin thought for a moment, a lot has happen in the last two weeks.
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A whole lot. Why, it was as if his whole existence was some game, being played by a group of disparate people, each one sending him off careening in one direction after another. None of it made sense. "If only..." Kevin the Office Tea Boy (whatever that is) thought to himself (out loud!)"I had a cowboy hat. Then everything would be alright."
As is common with this person, one thought led him to a completely different thought. "Hmmmm......cowboy hat....sheep.....CENSORED!......
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Kevin's daydreams led him to conjure in his mind a scene set high in the Rockies where he, wearing a black cowboy hat, [He would have preferred a straw, rolled brim like Daniel's but a Resistol was okay] was completely surrounded by sheep . . .
http://picasaweb.google.com.au/bernardhagan/SketchUpUpload02/photo#5164102366961485202
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when suddenly the incredibly handsome and tall Ross rode up behind him and asked "whatchya doin bud?"
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Kevin spun around and replied "Why are you talking to my beer?"
Ross appologized and explained that a common problem with the jetset spy lifestyle was the danger of becoming an alcoholic. Ross noted that's why there have been so many different 007's -- each drank themselves into early retirement. And Ross admitted that he too had a drinking problem. He had come to find Kevin to see if some tea therapy might help him beat the urge to drink. Seeing Kevin there with a can of Bud Lite had momentarily made Ross think he would like to drink Kevin's beer. Ross said "you see Kevin, my alcholism has gotten so bad for a moment there I actually considered drinking a Bud Lite! I've never been so low in my life. Oh the horror of it all. If I was willing to drink that canned shit I obviously need lots of help"
Kevin realized Ross was sincere. He replied back "I know a quiet little clinic in Brazil that uses tea therapy to help people like you. Actually I think I need help too: I had lowered my standards so low as to drink Bud Lite. I think it's some kind of death wish. In the last few weeks I've been very confused and stressed out. Together we can go to Dr. Edson's clinic in Brazil and let his tea therapy revitilize us".
With that Ross pushed a button on his watch and up over the ridge came a stealth helicopter that wisked them away. Both Kevin and Ross were happy to be headed for Brazil...
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Kevin turned on the incredibly self satisfied and handsome Ross. "Show some respect! ...... for the creative efforts of others. Don't dismiss their scribblings as beneath your contempt. There are unwritten rules of credibility here that those of us with integrity respect."
He paused for breath.
"Your alcoholism has made you delusional. I'm no longer a drinking buddy of yours.... and cut that crap about spies, stealth helicopters and watch buttons and get back on your horse. I've had it with you and your alcoholic ravings. I wish I knew how to quit you."
The incredibly handsome Ross's face contorted with pain at Kevin's onslaught. He clutched his chest as he slowly collapsed into a sobbing heap.
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On the cold-cold titanium deck, the crushed Ross considered jumping from the helicopter. Either that or slashing the throat of insolent Kevin...
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"S'pose I canit leave you thrashin' about on the ground, mumblin' sumptin' about titanium decks ... or wrecks ... or whatever" said Kevin as he let go of the sheep and approached the prostrate form of the incredibly tall and handsome Ross, still in the grip of an alcoholic fit.
"I wish I knew how to quit you," Kevin thought with some resignation as he adjusted his prized black Resistol.
Our hero, Kevin, the Office Tea Boy, always prepared to help another human being, no matter how degraded by the demon drink, failed to understand how warped and twisted Ross's alcohol soaked brain had deteriorated. He unsuspectingly bent down to help the convulsing form back on his horse when ...
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Ross mumbled something to the effect of "At least I didn't pay $300 for a hat."
Kevin, began to wonder if helping the handsome, good-looking, attractive, dapper, spruce, virile, well-built, athletic, personable, strong, muscular, easy on the eyes, tall and dark, cute and hunky Ross was really worth his time. Then Ross said something which made Kevin jump back in horror. "And I wouldn't drink Tieguanyin if it were served to me on a silver platter" and collapsed.
Ross, was lying on the rocks high in the mountains completely unconscious. Kevin, looking at Ross, then looking at the sheep, then looking again at Ross . . .
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