Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #69: Covert Shops

Last week as you recall, Dr. Smith had embarked on a dangerous journey taking him far and wide; Three, maybe four regulation city blocks.

-= fig. 520: the end of the possibility of sneakiness=-

But this was it. 
   The end of the possibility of sneakiness.
 He had to cross this street, main street.    There was no good way around it.  The problem was that Main street was swarming with the French, nefarious villains who had invaded the grand city of Legopolis just yesterday.  
   He was going to have to make a break for it. 
     He stowed his trademark glasses in their special case, and placed said case in the breast pocket of his jacket.    This was no time for him to be recognized.
       However, he kept his distinctive fedora, bow-tie, and tweed jacket, as removing these things for the purpose of a disguise would not occur to him. 
      He then adjusted his face to his best approximation of the expression the french thought they wore, and gave a war-like yell. 
     He charged. 

-=fig. 521: invisible=-

No one noticed him.
  They were all too focused on not shooting their colleagues in front of them.  A monumental task, by all standards. 
    Dr. Smith replaced his glasses on his face, moments before the wall hit him. 
Dr. Smith made mental note never to remove his glasses again, as he was blinder than a very blind thing without them.
  As he collected himself off the ground, he noticed the store that the wall that had run into him belonged to. 

"Your local Grocery shop since May 1937"
From the outside it didn't look very good.   Oh, maybe it had once, but not now.  
  Inside was worse. 
-=fig. fig. 522: disarray=-

The place wasn't very big, but it was in complete disarray. 
  And It smelled terrible. 
  "Hello?"  Dr. Smith asked the air. 
    "They're good lads, really." came a voice from a corner.
     "Who's there?" Dr. Smith asked the corner. 
   The voice was short of breath, but had a faraway, wistful tone, as if remembering something fondly. "It's just that there comes a time in every young man's life when he has to go on a crime spree, littering, stealing an old man's life savings."   The old man hiding behind the counter sighed, deep in reminiscence.  Then coughed wildly.
  "What are you doing back there?" asked Dr. Smith, a tad worried now.
    The old man apparently didn't hear him.   "I've known these boys since they were just little tykes, you know.  Their mothers used to come here for child mush, bless their souls.  All dead now, O'course."   Dr. Smith picked his way carefully over to the counter. 
The old man wasn't moving. 

-=fig. 523: old man=-

"What's your name, sir?" Asked Dr. Smith, suddenly in bedside-manner mode. 
  The Old Man still refused to acknowledge Dr. Smith.  
   "I'm only telling you this, you know, because you have a face like a half- brick." 
     Dr. Smith took an educated 'shot-in-the-dark'  "Mr. Johnsson just relax, everything's going to be fine. " Dr. Smith was lying as fast as he could.  He knew Mr. Johnsson wouldn't last ten minutes.  
       "Straightforward, honest.  There's no fooling a half-brick.   No room for subtitles, either.  You're either concussed or you ain't. " Mr. Johnsson was either deaf to the world, or hallucinating.   Mr. Johnsson was wheezing now, And feebly clutching his chest.  "I know I'm already dead, son.  But you just tell my boys…" His voice lowered to a whisper. "They ain't won yet."  And he was gone.
   Dr. Smith removed  his hat, out of respect, and examined the body.   It was as his original diagnosis suspected, Mr. Johnsson had had a heart attack, probably caused by the excitement of the 'Good Lads' who had robbed the store.
 It was a miracle he had lasted this long.
   Dr. Smith produced a white sheet from his suitcase, and covered the body with it. 
    If Dr. Smith were a religious man, he would have said a prayer.  But he wasn't, so he didn't. 
Dr. Smith examined the store, but it was empty.  And what hadn't been taken had been spoiled.
He was going to have to find somewhere else to buy his groceries. 
  He consulted his list: 
1. bacon
2. chocolate cake
3. three apples
4. eight largish chicken pot pies.
5. a tomato  
6. nine chili peppers, {Small, Green, Wrinkled}
7. pizza
8. spaghetti
The children and Jeeves had assisted Dr. Smith in his list-making. 
  If it were up to him all the list would have stopped with bacon.  But there's not much you can do when a robot snatches a list out of your hands and takes votes on it's future contents.
After a moments thought, Dr. Smith realized he knew where to get items  3, 5, 6, and 7. 
 But this was going to take all day. 


-=Best Regards=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.