Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Xavier tries out for the Hell's Angels

As soon as Jon had pointed to the bikes we would use for our next challenge, everyone broke into a mad dash towards them. By the time I managed to roll over there, the only one left was a total junk heap. It looked like it would collapse if I got within a foot of it. With a sigh, I decided to soldier on.

I climbed out of my chair and into the worn out leather saddle. Folding my chair, I was able to strap it to the back. I pressed the starter button and the machine made a very odd groaning sound, but it did not start. I pressed it again. Nothing.

“Well this is going to be a short race,” I said to no one in particular.

Then I noticed Henchman standing to one side. He seemed to be waiting for something. While I was fiddling with the windshield wipers, a VTL UPS truck landed next to Henchman and dropped off a brand spanking new, full loaded turbo flying machine. As he started to get into the flyer, I withdrew the tow cable from my bike's undercarriage, twirled it over my head and managed to toss the end over the refueling dock on Henchman’s contraption. He soared into the air, pulling my bike behind him. Fortunately he didn’t seem to notice.

Henchman flew straight into the heart of the Coral Reefs. A swarm of bizarre fire breathing flying eels attacked him but he managed to duck and dive around them. He really was quite skillful, though I was getting a little motion sickness behind him.

As he moved into the Lagoon of Danger, we actually started passing some of the other racers. Gyrobo gave me a very strange look. I just kind of shrugged and waved at him. I think he gave me the finger but I can’t be sure.

Suddenly an insane cackling filled my ears. Looking frantically around I can’t help but see a giant 50 foot tall bright yellow sponge that appeared to be laughing. The monster swung a rather large net at Henchman, but at the last minute he did a wild drop roll and avoided it. Unfortunately that left me to fly right into the net.

Fortunately the net was made out of seaweed and tore quite easily.

That reminds me of a joke. What do fish smoke? Sea weed.

Anyhoo, Henchman was zooming rapidly to the Gulf of Gorgons. He still didn’t seem to notice he was towing me. To avoid the beasts trying to turn him to stone, Henchman jerked sharply down. I could see the surface of the water quickly approaching. At the last possible moment he veered hard upwards, the rear turbo prop just skimming the water. Once again, I was not so lucky.

My piece of junk hover bike splashed down hard into the water. Henchman dragged me under until I thought my lungs would explode. Finally he rose high into the air, pulling me out. My bike was making all kinds of odd creaking noises. Obviously it wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this abuse.

Almost immediately after breaking surface, I was hit with a wave of hit. Apparently Henchman started climbing because he had reached the Fire Island. You know what they say about fire. It’s hot.

He smashed hard into a ramp and used the energy of the impact to get a bump in his speed. When my bike hit the ramp though, the synch cable snapped. I suppose "disintigrate" might be a more appropriate word.

Now sailing free my bike glided in an upward arc over some volcanos. Then it started to descend. I pushed the starter frantically. There was a sputter from the engines and then a rather unpleasant groaning sound. Then total silence.

Except for the wind rushing rapidly past my head. That was very loud. I looked down (always a mistake in this situation) and saw that I was headed straight towards the Old Gladiator Home.

It’s times like this that I wish I was telekinetic.

As the retirement home rushed up to great me, I noticed the kidney stone shaped pool. Quickly loosening the slack on my wheelchair, I unfolded it and was able to use it catch some air. By sheer force of will I got the nose of my bike pointed up, using the flat bottom as a windbreak.

Despite being able to slow my descent somewhat, I still hit the pool very hard. The bike actually hit the bottom and bounced out, landing with a bump on the deck. My chair clattered behind me.

A flabby looking old geezer ambled over to me. “Havin’ bike trouble sonny?” he asked in a weezey voice.

“I’d love to chat,” I told him, “but I’m a little busy.”

“That’s the trouble with you whipper-snappers. Always in a rush. You kids today ain’t got no respect. Now back in my day, I was gladiator. We had respect for our betters. My name was The Bone Grinder. Oh I was somethin’ back then.”

His eyes started to get misty as he spoke. “My biceps were the size of footballs! You know what a football is sonny?”

“Yes.”

“I remember I fought this one guy in the arena. His name was the Demon Seed. That poor bastard took one look at my muscles and he just went and crapped himself! Ha ha! Boy that was somethin’!”

“That is quite the achievement. I’d love to stay and hear the rest but you see I’m in a race.”

Just then Gyrobo went sailing over our heads.

“Heh heh. Doesn’t look like you doin’ too well, sonny.”

“Yes, well, I’m going to say good-bye now.”

“Now you just wait a second there,” the old coot said as he grabbed my forearm. His grip was surprisingly strong. He leaned over my control consol. “Well see, there’s your problem. You have to switch off the automatic cut off. It’s a safety feature on these older models.”

The old man flicked a switch and pushed the starter. The engines hummed to life. I wasn’t sure whether to smack him or hug him. I decided to reach into his mind and put him to sleep.

He fell back onto a lounge chair and started snoring like a baby. Well actually it was more like a chainsaw, but he was asleep and that’s what counts. Unfortunately he still had a hold of my arm. I tried to pry off his fingers but I couldn’t get them to budge.

Then some other old codger with a walker shambled up to us. “Do you know how many times I heard that damn story!” he spat. “I’m getting’ sick of it!”

The new comer pulled out a permanent marker and drew a big black ‘L’ on the Bone Grinder’s forehead. That sent him into a fit of the giggles.

“That is a wonderful prank,” I told him. “But you see I’m a little stuck here.” I motioned to the hand pinching my arm.

The old man looked at me kind of funny. Then he just shook his head and, reaching over, easily pulled the Grinder’s fingers loose.

“Thanks,” I said as I took the hover bike into the air.

I flew around the lava pools without too much trouble. At the Haunted Observatory of Mystery a very bored looking teenager was leaning against the entrance. Obviously sick of his duties, he just waved me on. I flew at top speed straight to the finish line. Most everyone was standing there waiting for me. Oh well, at least I finished in the top 12.

Next stop – the shower.

9 Comments:

Blogger Local Henchmen 432 said...

Dear Sir,

I thought my ride was a little slow.Well good job anyway.Dental for all.

Dr.Polaris rules.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006 8:09:00 PM  
Blogger Gaia said...

Seaweed....? Whaaa-

Oh! I get it!

Ha....ha...ha...

Oh Professor Xavier, you're such a riot!

Tuesday, May 23, 2006 8:47:00 PM  
Blogger Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

That's interesting, I thought all of these bikes were stripped of their safety features like the cut off switch, air bag, flotation device and fire extinguisher. Hmmm.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006 8:53:00 PM  
Blogger Professor Xavier said...

It would have been nice to get an instruction manual, Jon.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006 9:16:00 PM  
Blogger Erifia Apoc said...

So, yeah, that sponge thing sounds horrible, I'm glad I was slow and in a froggy suit and avoided it. But as a trade off I was stuck with a worse fate... Aayla Secura.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006 9:40:00 PM  
Blogger Magdalena said...

My bike did get a manual Charles but who hs tme to read it in a race


and those were gag bikes anyway

Tuesday, May 23, 2006 10:24:00 PM  
Blogger A Army Of (Cl)One said...

Yikes, I think that old Gladiator should have done a 'Speed-NO" not a Speedo. A Speedo, like spandex and mini-skirts, is a privilege not a right.

Good use of your fellow contestants, but I guess you are use to that by now. ;)

Wednesday, May 24, 2006 1:27:00 AM  
Blogger Jean-Luc Picard said...

I always thought I'd be a good Hell's Angel.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006 5:53:00 AM  
Blogger A Army Of (Cl)One said...

Captian Picard: but saying "make it so" everytime you start a biker rumble is just a little wimpy. Not that I'm saying your a wimp. You can kick real Klingon @ss, not those pansy Klingon Kirk fought.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006 11:15:00 AM  

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