Friday, June 30, 2006

Xavier Gets Heckled

Tour guide? I’ve never been on a tour of anything in my life. What do they say?

As I hesitated outside of the mini-bus door pondering my fate, Jon came over to me.

“I’ve arranged a special surprise for you, Professor.”

“Oh, what’s that?” I asked innocently.

“I was able to get a member of your family in the tour group. That should ensure a friendlier crowd for you.”

“Um . . which family member?”

“Let’s see,” Jon glanced down at his clipboard. His finger glided down a list of names. “Cain Marko.”

Cain Marko! The Juggernaut?!

I sat there stunned as Jon clapped my shoulder and walked away, whistling a happy little diddy. Oh well, maybe my psychotic step-brother won’t have his psionic blocking helmet on. Yeah right.

I fiddled with the controls on my hover-chair and it lifted me up into the bus. Marko was in the front seat, a big cat-ready-to-pounce-on-a-mouse grin on his face. I quickly glanced up and saw that he wore a strange black stocking cap on his head. I tried to read his mind telepathically but that damn cap shielded him. Great.


Forcing a big smile on my face, I addressed the tourists. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to lovely Hacknor, home to the Intergalactic Gladiator Association. Or is it World Gladiator Federation? Um, no, I think it’s actually the-”

“You don’t even know the name of the group?” asked Marko. “Ha! I guess they must call you an egghead ‘cause your brains are scrambled!”

Some of the tourists chuckled at that.

“Yes well, it really isn’t important,” I said. “We are here for a tour. Now let’s see what’s, oh yes, if you look over on your left, you can see the pile of damaged, destroyed and otherwise discarded hoverbikes that we used in the second challenge of Last Gladiator Standing.”


Everyone turned to look out the windows. “You lost that race, ain’t that right Chuck?” Marko asked. “And didn’t you get dunked in the ocean during the race? You must have really needed a bath, huh? What, was your girlfriend complaining?”

The chuckling got louder. “Yeah, speakin’ a your girlfriend, did Bone Grinder ever call after your big date?” Marko asked.

“Yeah, it seemed like you two were really hitting it off!” some punk in the back yelled out. The chuckling turned to out right laughter.

“No,” I said, my cheeks turning red. “He did not call. I mean, we did not go on a date! Now if we can please get back to-”

“Ain’t that just like a guy?” interrupted Marko. “You show him a good time, dinner, dancing, the whole thing, and then in the mornin’ he don’t even know you!”

The group burst out in raucous guffaws. “I bet he didn’t even send flowers! Ha ha!” Marko continued.

“People!” I yelled. “I am trying to show you the awesome Fire Lakes of Tarsus. Don’t you-”

It was no use. Everyone was too far gone with laughter. Obviously there was only one way I was going to be able to regain control. I reached into the mind of Gladys Fishmocker, the rather short lady from Pasadena sitting directly behind Marko. I made her reach forward and yank that annoying psionic dampening cap off of Marko’s head.

Before he could react, he’s not known for his quick thinking you see, I took over his mind. I had Marko stand up and step into the aisle. He faced the front of the bus, bent forward and dropped his pants. The whole bus saw his Strawberry Shortcake boxers. For a moment they were shocked into silence. Then they burst out laughing even harder then they had before.


I left Marko like that for the rest of the tour.


Blogger big joe said...

Unfortunatley Marko don't need an excuse to do that. In fact i wish he'd keep his pants on once in a while

Friday, June 30, 2006 8:57:00 PM  
Blogger Leia Skywalker Solo said...

Is that... Strawberry Shortcake? Wow!

Friday, June 30, 2006 9:10:00 PM  
Blogger A Army Of (Cl)One said...

Could anyone see anything of the tour or did Marko's hugh Strawberry Shortcake covered backside block their view.

On the plus side I be none of the tourist asked for snacks after seeing that.

Friday, June 30, 2006 10:35:00 PM  
Blogger Jean-Luc Picard said...

A heckler is never good for the host of a tourbus.

Saturday, July 01, 2006 6:25:00 AM  
Blogger Randy said...

Charles, Charles, Charles, you have a great voice man. Everytime you open your mouth, you give me the chills.

Congratulations, you;re going to Hollywooooooooooooood! (As in Hollywood, Dumfries Scotland. Get some delicious blood pudding while you're there!)

Sunday, July 02, 2006 11:45:00 AM  

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