The Firefly Field Theory

|14| Let The Fun Begin: Part III

PART III:

“Sam, where were you? Where is everybody?” Bravo asks, placing the paper coasters and cans of soft drinks onto the flowery green mat. Among the four sides of the square, I pick the one that will soon prove to be the best seat in the house. On both the sides next to me, Bravo and Omi make themselves comfortable. They don’t know what I know.

I answer neither of Bravo’s questions, because it’s a stupid surprise. She doesn’t press me to answer because she’s busy fixing everything.

“Hey! When did you guys get back?” From the ledge the target rushes down, acting all nonchalant.

“Just a minute ago. Where were you?” Omi asks Z what I’ve been wondering. Of course I’m not the least bit of surprised when Z replies with a ‘nowhere’. Like anybody in their right mind would believe that shit. Where were you? Nowhere. Oh! That’s where, I get it.

And just like that the target gets locked in site; he sits into the spot that I figured was best for his luck. Smiling at me he asks, “And where’s Wall-e?”

“Nowhere.” I play his game at him. Dude, brace yourself. He is coming for you. Naked Snake is coming to getya.

“What do you mean ‘nowhere’ Sam where is he?” Bravo looks up, I shrug my shoulders. She looks around. I hold my breath.

Come on Captain, time to come out. My mouth drops open when my telepathic signaling goes through for the first time in my entire life.

In the far end, about twelve yards from us, the blue door of the box sways open. And out steps the meanest, yellow-est, angriest, but kicking banana sergeant a.k.a. Naked Snake. I bite down my lip and force my eyes to my plate of bar-b-q chicken and roti. But as hungry as I am right now, I can’t look at food, my eyes want the action.

And action they get as the buck yellow banana charges onto its course, attracting attention like it’s a freakin massive flower float of tulips. Kids playing tag, go into shock at the trampling yellow bogeyman, the worried parents hustle to try to save their kids from whatever creature the booth has given birth to. Heads turn like Kim Kardashian is at the beach.

Running.

In a banana costume.

Yes. That level of attention. No joke.

I can’t joke, I can’t move, I can’t eat, I can’t breathe and I can’t wait. Z you are gonna get it. Naked Snake has got you on his radar.

Naked Snake is close.

If I had words to describe how hard it was not to laugh at the rampaging banana, I’d write a book. The costume; like almost every other costume has two holes poked in the base for the legs to stick out, and an oval cut out at the anterior end, for the face of the person who’s fantastically unfortunate to be inside. When Wall-e runs, the upper end of the banana falls back like floating hair in the breeze.

Naked Snake is closer.

It was warm, sunny and noisy a minute ago. Now it’s slowly travelling to warm, sunny and quiet. The entire crowd of onlookers is stunned, Bravo and Omi will be noticing this soon, but as for Z, he’s seated in the spot where he won’t know what hit him.

Naked Snake is closest.

One. Two. Three.

Pounce. The momentum with which Wall-e lands on Z’s back is so immense, the plate he was holding goes flying in the air and its contents spread on the picnic mat/battle ground.

Z grunts. Wall-e grunts. The huff and heave. Okay, what are they doing?

This is about as satisfying as cold beef jerky. I guess if I closed my eyes and so did the entire picnic purposed crew of bystanders, the audio would fit in nicely. You’d even have no trouble imagining Bruce Lee fight off against Jackie Chan. Open your eyes, it’s two Chiwawas trying to claw at each other, when both their paw nails are filled to perfection.