Minda 4
Savard, one of the Montreal biker set, finishes his story to a firestorm of laughter. Picking up his coffee cup, he turns to Pronovost, "that's everyone except you. Wimp! Chickensh**!"
Loud raucous cries demanding Pronovost's most embarrassing story ever. Awkward grin, "ok guys, now I had relatives out at Magog, would visit sometimes. So here I am, just left Montreal out on the autoroute on my Harley. I come up behind Tremblay, of the rival set, in his car.
"Now as I cruised behind him, I was positive. Saw the side of his face as he turned back and forth. Same car, same color, same model make and year.
"So, I goosed her to pass. Now when you got one hand on the bike, the other on an Uzi and 150 klicks of slipstream, you ain't in the mode of looking at fine detail, just do the job.
"I gave him and the car half a clip. It hit the ditch, rolled, exploded in a magnificent fireball."
Someone says, "but he's still alive."
Pronovost blushes, "that's the embarrassing part of the story. In Montreal, I never bothered reading the paper. In Magog, I always did. Next day, I discovered I'd blown away a clergyman."
Loud laughter, ribald comments.
As it dies, Savard turns to me, "you ain't a biker, so we wouldn't expect. But you are our friend. Think you could spare an embarrassing story about you?"
I grin, "sure, now my work was such I could move from city to city, much as I wanted. Moved often, just to keep em guessing. So here I am, in Toronto, ain't made any hits there yet, just casing. Meet this chick in a coffee house, we're seeing each other, but of course no long term commitment.
"So, just guess who my first hit proved to be, totally by accident. Unknown to me, the Revenue employee was her first cousin She had no way of knowing it was me of course. Still, I was afraid she might pick up clues if I hung around.
"So I told her I was moving again, my job. Then six more hits in TO just to keep the authorities guessing and hasta la vista baby."
Ooohs and ahs.
There's a stranger in Ms Shapiro's office. Introduced as Dr Anderson, she definitely has a mil officer look. "Mr Riley, take this as merely a warning, not a threat. Everything said in here is covered by the Official Secrets Act. To discuss it with anyone other than a person authorized by myself is an act of treason. Now in wartime, that means the death penalty. Still, you will discover our secrets remarkably easy to keep. First, futuristic enough that to talk about it anywhere other than a sci fi novel would get you labelled as insane or on drugs. Second, our secrets are sooo embarrassing. Now I'm guessing you don't like being laughed at. So, do I have your promise of secrecy?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good, let's get started."
(So ends Part One; the blog could be inactive for several months as Part Two is prepared.)
Loud raucous cries demanding Pronovost's most embarrassing story ever. Awkward grin, "ok guys, now I had relatives out at Magog, would visit sometimes. So here I am, just left Montreal out on the autoroute on my Harley. I come up behind Tremblay, of the rival set, in his car.
"Now as I cruised behind him, I was positive. Saw the side of his face as he turned back and forth. Same car, same color, same model make and year.
"So, I goosed her to pass. Now when you got one hand on the bike, the other on an Uzi and 150 klicks of slipstream, you ain't in the mode of looking at fine detail, just do the job.
"I gave him and the car half a clip. It hit the ditch, rolled, exploded in a magnificent fireball."
Someone says, "but he's still alive."
Pronovost blushes, "that's the embarrassing part of the story. In Montreal, I never bothered reading the paper. In Magog, I always did. Next day, I discovered I'd blown away a clergyman."
Loud laughter, ribald comments.
As it dies, Savard turns to me, "you ain't a biker, so we wouldn't expect. But you are our friend. Think you could spare an embarrassing story about you?"
I grin, "sure, now my work was such I could move from city to city, much as I wanted. Moved often, just to keep em guessing. So here I am, in Toronto, ain't made any hits there yet, just casing. Meet this chick in a coffee house, we're seeing each other, but of course no long term commitment.
"So, just guess who my first hit proved to be, totally by accident. Unknown to me, the Revenue employee was her first cousin She had no way of knowing it was me of course. Still, I was afraid she might pick up clues if I hung around.
"So I told her I was moving again, my job. Then six more hits in TO just to keep the authorities guessing and hasta la vista baby."
Ooohs and ahs.
There's a stranger in Ms Shapiro's office. Introduced as Dr Anderson, she definitely has a mil officer look. "Mr Riley, take this as merely a warning, not a threat. Everything said in here is covered by the Official Secrets Act. To discuss it with anyone other than a person authorized by myself is an act of treason. Now in wartime, that means the death penalty. Still, you will discover our secrets remarkably easy to keep. First, futuristic enough that to talk about it anywhere other than a sci fi novel would get you labelled as insane or on drugs. Second, our secrets are sooo embarrassing. Now I'm guessing you don't like being laughed at. So, do I have your promise of secrecy?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good, let's get started."
(So ends Part One; the blog could be inactive for several months as Part Two is prepared.)
posted by afghangirlscifi @ 8:19 AM
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