Possumblog

of luscious spicy hot chicken strips smothered in Cajun sauce and ranch dressing with a side of nutritious celery and a glass of iced tea. Now there is a lunch worth eating. What would I hjave done if I had not gone to lunch? Well

I would have probably seen the sentence about Gordon's shoe.

The stick proved to not be a stick at all but a reptile of dubious reputation pretending to be a stick. Gordon found himself really wishing that he had a stick himself as one would be mighty handy for dealing with said nefarious reptile. On second thought, Gordon realized that he was prejudging the reptile since he had no way of knowing its intent regarding Gordon himself.

there's no telling what a Hebrew with an appetite for danger will do. Gordon adjusted his yarmulka and sat down to enjoy his lunch and his copy of Moron Projects Illustrated when suddenly

sorry - I was responding to Larry's first "Well"; Add in (Prior to my initial phrase) "Regardless of the reptile's intent, Gordon thought

Hey Larry, shoot me an email to nathaniel.mccord@hill.af.mil. I've got an idea to show you.

two men casually walked up and took seats on his left and right. At first, they seemed to be normal business men in black suits and red ties, but upon closer inspection, something was wrong. Maybe it was that their eyes were just too big for their heads. Could it be that their hands seemed tiny in comparison to their long arms. Gordon couldn't be sure, but whatever it was made him uncomfortable. He began to get up from the park bench but before he could stand...

...man have I ever gotten myself in trouble here. That hottie over there thinks I am the type who consorts with reptiles just when she was starting to notice just how much she was attracted to me. (Gordon is a major dreamer). The reptile began to move

Gordon thought "you know what, this story's really not making a lot of sense." What Gordon doesn't know is we've secretly replaced the mushrooms in his pizza with magic mushrooms, and he's having a flashback to a Doors concert he went to in 1971.

Wow, this has gotten confused. This is my take on the order of things. Correct me where I am wrong.

Gordon looked down at the stick on the ground, and moved it slightly to the left with the toe of his shoe. The stick proved to not be a stick at all but a reptile of dubious reputation pretending to be a stick. Gordon found himself really wishing that he had a stick himself as one would be mighty handy for dealing with said nefarious reptile. On second thought, Gordon realized that he was prejudging the reptile since he had no way of knowing its intent regarding Gordon himself. Regardless of the reptile's intent, Gordon thought there's no telling what a Hebrew with an appetite for danger will do. Gordon adjusted his yarmulke and sat down to enjoy his lunch and his copy of Moron Projects Illustrated when suddenly two men casually walked up and took seats on his left and right. At first, they seemed to be normal business men in black suits and red ties, but upon closer inspection, something was wrong. Maybe it was that their eyes were just too big for their heads. Could it be that their hands seemed tiny in comparison to their long arms. Gordon couldn't be sure, but whatever it was made him uncomfortable. He began to get up from the park bench but before he could stand

That last post I can't seem to fit anywhere

the gentleman to his left leaned over and hissed "Volvo" into his ear. Gordon blanched and dropped his magazine. Oh no! He thought to himself, they're on too me.

TO UPDATE THE NARRATIVE (as if such a thing were possible given the way it has unfolded) we have:

Gordon looked down at the stick on the ground, and moved it slightly to the left with the toe of his shoe.

The stick proved to not be a stick at all but a reptile of dubious reputation pretending to be a stick. Gordon found himself really wishing that he had a stick himself as one would be mighty handy for dealing with said nefarious reptile. On second thought, Gordon realized that he was prejudging the reptile since he had no way of knowing its intent regarding Gordon himself.

Regardless of the reptile’s intent, Gordon thought there’s no telling what a Hebrew with an appetite for danger will do. Gordon adjusted his yarmulke and sat down to enjoy his lunch and his copy of Moron Projects Illustrated when suddenly two men casually walked up and took seats on his left and right.

At first, they seemed to be normal business men in black suits and red ties, but upon closer inspection, something was wrong. Maybe it was that their eyes were just too big for their heads. Could it be that their hands seemed tiny in comparison to their long arms? Gordon couldn’t be sure, but whatever it was made him uncomfortable.

He began to get up from the park bench but before he could stand [he had a sudden, random thought--] “Man, have I ever gotten myself in trouble here. That hottie over there thinks I am the type who consorts with reptiles, just when she was starting to notice just how much she was attracted to me.” (Gordon is a major dreamer).

The reptile began to move. Gordon thought “you know what, this story’s really not making a lot of sense.”

What Gordon doesn’t know is we’ve secretly replaced the mushrooms in his pizza with magic mushrooms, and he’s having a flashback to a Doors concert he went to in 1971.

The gentleman to his left leaned over and hissed “Volvo” into his ear. Gordon blanched and dropped his magazine. “Oh no!” he thought to himself, “they’re on to me!”

After years of trying to live it down, Gordon realized that he had been exposed as a "gasp" Volvo lover. His years of secretly working on 544s and 122s had obviouly come to light and now the whole world would know. The taller of the two red eyed strangers (red eyed from working late nights on samll plastic Volvo parts) said: "We need you to work on a 245 if you accept the mission and please leave your reptile friend behind, we have enough troubles without bringing his kind in. The Volvo demons are already afoot".

...and the taller guy continued, "Gordon, you also need to realize you may need to join the Witness Protection Program."

Whereupon the reptile then turned to Gordon and hissed "you're an evvvvvvvvvil man for selling your beloved Ford truck and (much) later buying an evvvvil furrin car."

Gordon looked at the reptile and said: "Look, I don't want to get into any deep philosophical discussions, but Volvo is a Ford company and as far as I am concerned, that makes it American, besides the beloved 544 was a knockoff of a 46 Ford Sedan and other than a few French electricals, Volvo are sturdy cars, oh I forgot about the cheap German plastic parts, that's "cheap" not inexpensive:.

The two dark-suited visitors exchanged knowing glances. The gentleman on the bench to his left, Lars Svensson, quietly said to the gentleman to Gordon's right, Sven Larsson, "He's good, this one. I think we've made the right choice."

"Indeed so--it almost makes me question the wisdom of the authors of the story spiking his pizza with psilocybin."

They quickly jumped up and dispatched the talking xenophobic Volvo demon serpent with a series of well-placed Scandinavian martial arts blows.

Gordon felt his head swirling, which was somewhat entertaining, although not nearly so much as the flashback he was now having of the ABBA concert he attended in 1980.

When he came to, several minutes later, he found himself in a 1900 Queen Anne cottage with a two-story bell-cast roof and two original fireplaces. The fireplaces had tall mantels with mirrors. Tall, TALL mantels to go with the high, HIGH ceilings. He wondered if this was heaven.

Then he estimated the heating and cooling bills in those tall, tall rooms, and said,"Nah. This isn't heaven. This is another Moron Project."

The end?

No, I think not.