Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Friends with Thor
We high-fived with our hands and leapt through plate glass. The streams of blood crosshatched my oversized biceps like spiderwebs. He didn’t have that problem; he doesn’t bleed. Sometimes ichor will come out of him, but that happens mostly when he’s fighting planet-sized snakes, or when he’s trying to impress ladies over on Lansdowne. We stuck our landings upon the craggy outcropping straight out, and after a moment’s dramatic pause we alighted from the promontory and struck dead for the heart of the outburst.
We busted up some giants with these fists and some dumb hammer. Maybe I shouldn’t call it dumb, but it definitely isn’t as cool as a scimitar, or a studded mace shaped like a football. After battle and over beer we talked about that hammer, and he started to have second thoughts. A hammer might have been intimidating a thousand years ago, but in this modern day of power-tools and lasers a hammer doesn’t seem like much of a deterrent. We talked it over at Jillian’s and eventually both agreed that maybe a good electric drill was the way to go, or perhaps a big metal ladder.
We made it an early night and headed for the taxi stand. He had to help his girlfriend’s cousin move the next morning, and didn’t want to stay out too late. We split a cab even though he was headed to South Boston and I was going to Somerville. It was late, and we were both a bit drunk, and the conversation started to get confessional. He told me he didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up. The owner of the fish market was talking about making him manager, and what with another kid on the way he was seriously considering taking it. Of course that increased responsibility would make fighting crime at night even more of a hassle for him, but sometimes you’ve got to face hard decisions. We’re getting old, he said, too old to keep on doing this panty-hose crap. I didn’t say anything, just nodded my head.
We pulled up to his building right around then. We left the talk unresolved and said goodbye. As he was entering the code to get in I realized that Apollo probably doesn’t have to put up with this sort of shit.
We high-fived with our hands and leapt through plate glass. The streams of blood crosshatched my oversized biceps like spiderwebs. He didn’t have that problem; he doesn’t bleed. Sometimes ichor will come out of him, but that happens mostly when he’s fighting planet-sized snakes, or when he’s trying to impress ladies over on Lansdowne. We stuck our landings upon the craggy outcropping straight out, and after a moment’s dramatic pause we alighted from the promontory and struck dead for the heart of the outburst.
We busted up some giants with these fists and some dumb hammer. Maybe I shouldn’t call it dumb, but it definitely isn’t as cool as a scimitar, or a studded mace shaped like a football. After battle and over beer we talked about that hammer, and he started to have second thoughts. A hammer might have been intimidating a thousand years ago, but in this modern day of power-tools and lasers a hammer doesn’t seem like much of a deterrent. We talked it over at Jillian’s and eventually both agreed that maybe a good electric drill was the way to go, or perhaps a big metal ladder.
We made it an early night and headed for the taxi stand. He had to help his girlfriend’s cousin move the next morning, and didn’t want to stay out too late. We split a cab even though he was headed to South Boston and I was going to Somerville. It was late, and we were both a bit drunk, and the conversation started to get confessional. He told me he didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up. The owner of the fish market was talking about making him manager, and what with another kid on the way he was seriously considering taking it. Of course that increased responsibility would make fighting crime at night even more of a hassle for him, but sometimes you’ve got to face hard decisions. We’re getting old, he said, too old to keep on doing this panty-hose crap. I didn’t say anything, just nodded my head.
We pulled up to his building right around then. We left the talk unresolved and said goodbye. As he was entering the code to get in I realized that Apollo probably doesn’t have to put up with this sort of shit.
