“A minor league baseball player has to” said the ominous voice from behind the cave wall.
“A minor league baseball player?” asked Rupert. “And that will fulfill the prophecy?”
“Yes” said the ominous voice.
“Hold on,” I said. “Has anyone here even played baseball?” Of course, I had been playing in the minor leagues for years under an assumed identity, but that was before my life here, in the caves; it was a life I was not wont to share with others, and one I was reluctant to return to.
Clarissa nudged me. I had told her the first day we got here of my past, back when I thought it didn’t matter; possibly years ago now.
“Anyone?” I asked again.
Back when we had first entered the caves, back before our tour guide had abandoned us and the bioluminescent messages started to appear on the walls, I had known none of these people. Since then, we had grown close; we had learned how to survive together, how to avoid the entrancing darkness of the trap tunnels and various cave dwelling creatures.
“Charlie,” said Bethany, “you’re a baseball player, right?”
“What?” I asked. “Who told you that?”
“Oh, Eric did” she said.
“Eric?” I asked.
“Clarissa told me” said Eric.
“Well I didn’t think it was some kind of big secret” said Clarissa.
“Besides,” said Rupert. “You talk about it in your sleep all the time.”
“Then it is decided.” said the ominous voice. “Charlie Delton, you will fulfill the prophecy of the cave!”
“Aw, damn it.” I hit my hand against the cave wall.
Also there was a doctor. I would find out later he was also a minor league baseball player in his youth, he was just much better at keeping quiet about it than I was.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
First 7 Words of IMDB's Description of a John Candy Movie #4: Nothing But Trouble
A businessman finds he and his friends.
He sits in his office chair and makes several existential realizations about himself and the people he considers himself close to.
He has heard of others finding themselves before, but never finding other people at the same time. He is perplexed as to how he should handle this latter part of his discoveries.
It is soon after he gets up from his cubicle, goes to the break room, and heats up a freshly vended cinnamon bun that he decides the best course of action would be to tell his friends of his conclusions. He decides to call them.
Perhaps it should be explained that this businessman has never in his life had any existential epiphanies. He does not know the proper etiquette involved in such experiences and, as such, does not know other people can consider it impolite when told astounding eternal truths regarding their own lives by others over the phone.
Perhaps it should be explained that his phone calls do not go well.
When he shouts: “Margaret, your boyfriend is using you to score free tickets to outdoor Folk concerts he is not even that interested in,” it does not go well.
When he shouts: “Enid, the reason you don’t like robots is because they remind you of several people you dated during your years of adolescence,” it does not go well.
When he shouts: “Quilbert, the reason you did not do well when you took the SAT is because you did not study for it, and not, as you have so eagerly told people for several years, because the people who grade the exam are not fond of people named Quilbert,” it quite clearly does not go well.
“Also there was a doctor” he says. “I am thinking the reason your name is Quilbert is because he was not at his most sober when filling out your birth certificate.”
He sits in his office chair and makes several existential realizations about himself and the people he considers himself close to.
He has heard of others finding themselves before, but never finding other people at the same time. He is perplexed as to how he should handle this latter part of his discoveries.
It is soon after he gets up from his cubicle, goes to the break room, and heats up a freshly vended cinnamon bun that he decides the best course of action would be to tell his friends of his conclusions. He decides to call them.
Perhaps it should be explained that this businessman has never in his life had any existential epiphanies. He does not know the proper etiquette involved in such experiences and, as such, does not know other people can consider it impolite when told astounding eternal truths regarding their own lives by others over the phone.
Perhaps it should be explained that his phone calls do not go well.
When he shouts: “Margaret, your boyfriend is using you to score free tickets to outdoor Folk concerts he is not even that interested in,” it does not go well.
When he shouts: “Enid, the reason you don’t like robots is because they remind you of several people you dated during your years of adolescence,” it does not go well.
When he shouts: “Quilbert, the reason you did not do well when you took the SAT is because you did not study for it, and not, as you have so eagerly told people for several years, because the people who grade the exam are not fond of people named Quilbert,” it quite clearly does not go well.
“Also there was a doctor” he says. “I am thinking the reason your name is Quilbert is because he was not at his most sober when filling out your birth certificate.”
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