Thursday 16 April 2015

PERSONAL 3


"Robert lay in the theatre on the operating table and looked for the tunnel. There should have been light. It was black. "Shit I'm wrong" he thought " what do I do to avoid eternal damnation?"He saw the skeleton next, it raised a finger and said follow me my friend ."


Fortunately for Robert he'd been wearing that new Trade Me purchase his wife had made under his silk lined long coat.
It was a piece of 17th century Samurai upper body armour made from overlaying strips of bamboo. It weighed less than a kilogram but was 10 times stronger than kevlar.  It cost $12 dollars. "Those silly old elderly folks didn't know the value of this" Robert thought as he donned it that morning.





The 'skeleton' was a cadaverous A&E doctor who looked like he could do with a good feed. Robert suggested the battered sausages at the Moera takeaway shop but the doctor merely grimaced and led him down the corridor.



"Listen, I don't like your lifestyle mate" the doctor whispered "but it doesn't mean to say that I want to see you killed. There's a heavy-set guy lurking out in the waiting area - about 5'10", unshaven, bleary-eyed, smells like old chardonnay - he was asking about you. I didn't like the look of him. The American policemen have gone and the press have lost interest now that they've discovered that you are a white guy. You can slip out this side door here. I'll tell the old guy in the waiting room that you 'slipped away'. With my sad looks he'll no doubt be assured that you've gone to meet your maker which by the look of you was probably Geppetto."

Robert thought he should take offence at this but took his advice and slipped out the side door.
He felt a chill but moved swiftly across the car park and out to the main street. He was sure that he was getting funny looks from the people around and heard some giggles from behind him.

He was unaware that although he was still wearing the Samurai body armour, the hospital had removed his trousers and underpants. They'd dressed him in a surgical smock but it was flapping open at the back.


2 comments:

Robert ka kite i nga mea i te rangi said...

Don't call me a puppet, Robert thought as he headed back to Nouva Lazio. Never turn back was his motto.
His target was heavy set 5'10", probably blue eyes, European (Maori don't have facial hair or drink sweet wine).
At the top of the hill a deputy in a black and white had set up a road block that barred the road. Robert knew the sort. Big muscled but not a concern. He rammed his old Mitsubishi Dion into the left rear spinning it and sped on down the hill.

Richard (of RBB) said...

Robert had been wrong about two things. Chardonnay is not a sweet wine and the black and white was a coffee cart and not a police car. He also didn't seem to understand that the Maori who can't grow beards are called women.
Now he'd wrecked a very popular coffee cart.
This was not the first time that Robert had been a very silly (and slightly racist) boy.