Predator Press and the Piano of the Frog
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Navigation through the indigenous wildlife was slow at best.
Especially when my guide Statico keeps stopping for every little piece of trash.
“Doritos. Still fresh ... three days. They're following us I tell you.”
“If they knew we were here, they would have killed us already,” I says continuing on. “And put those down. Those are stale. You’ll get sick.”
I cock my head slightly, and hear the sound of mushy chewing. Spinning around with the speed of a cat, I knock the Doritos from his hand with a deadly accurate crack!
“Ouch, you bastard!” cries Statico. “Why are you carrying that extension cord anyway?”
“It’s probably dark in there,” I shrug.
“It’s Starbucks.”
“I don’t take chances.”
We advance to the counter, and I scowl at the overhead menu. “I would like a Double Mocha Mocha Cappa Grande el Pueblo Colorado.”
“Coming right up,” says the lady.
“Say, aren’t you Karen Allen?”
“Yes.”
“Karen, have you seen this piano?” I inquire, flipping a picture from my lapel on the counter.
Karen gasps. “It is the Piano of the Frog!”
“Ah-ha!” chuckles Statico while seizing the picture.
“Statico, no!” I warn.
But Statico does not listen; instead he bolts for the exit.
Thinking quickly, I leap behind the counter. “Excuse me miss,” I says tipping my foil fedora. Running into the back kitchen, I press the button to the elevator and descend into the basement where I trip the fuse box.
“Arggh!” cries Statico as the electric doors slide closed on him.
“Give up, Statico!” I demand.
“Give me the extension cord!” he howls painfully.
“No dice, Statico.”
“No time to argue, señor. You throw me the extension cord, I give you the picture.”
Reluctantly, I throw him the cord.
“Haha!” says Statico. “Fooled you! Now I have the picture and the extension cord!”
“Dammit!” I complain. “Why do I always fall for that?”
Grinning wildly, he fumbles to plug in the doors.
“Don’t do it, Statico!”
Suddenly the doors powered up and slammed shut, severing Statico clean in twain.
That’s the third guide I’ve lost this week like that.
“I know something that can help you,” says Karen Allen.
“If it’s Lithium-“
“No. It’s an ancient relic that will aide your quest.”
“Cool. Where is it?”
“It’s in the walk-in refrigerator.”
***
I pull open the large steel door, and sure enough, there it was.
I whistle. “Wow. That’s the Fugue of the Frogster.”
“Yes.”
“Well what am I supposed to do with that?”
“If you play the notes, it will open the gates on your quest.”
“You mean like in that movie The Goonies?”
“I was 34 when that movie came out.”
“You’re never too old for The Goonies. Now go get my damn Double Mocha Mocha Cappa Grande el Camino while I steal this here Foogie thing.”
“But you said you wanted a Double Mocha Mocha Cappa Grande el Pueblo Colorado.”
“Don’t argue with me. I’m a scientist or something.”
Wiggling my fingers, I crouch in front of the sheet music and ever so slowly prepare to snatch it.
Careful, I’m thinking. Easy does it ...
“Here’s your coffee,” says Karen.
“Jesus!” I shriek. “You scared the daylights out of me!”
“Sorry,” she says blandly. “But you don’t really want to take the music like that.”
“Why not?” I reply eyeing my coffee suspiciously.
“It is hooked up to a counterweight, and will trigger a deadly trap.”
“You know,” I says. “I’m not going to tip you when you skimp on the Mocha like this-“
“You need to replace the item with something that weighs about the same thing.”
“Like my gun?
"That'll work.
"Okay.”
“Why do you keep your gun in a little brown sack?”
“Look sister. If you want to spend eight hours in Photoshop doctoring pictures for this post, knock yourself out.”
“Be sure you replace the Fugue with the gun smoothly. If you jostle the podium even the slightest bit you will trigger the trap.”
“Yeah. Okay. Lemme finish my coffee first.”
Karen rolls her eyes. “You know, screw this. You’re going to get us killed. How about if I do it?”
“Look, I already put my gun in the sack. There’s no turning back now.”
“Maybe you could tie your extension cord to it, and pull the sheet music off from a distance.”
“Huh,” I says impressed. “That would be cool. We could get the music, and watch this place crumble to burning rubble. But Statico got my cord all knotted. Here. Hold this end while I untangle it.”
Moments later, we were helplessly bound back-to-back to a support beam.
“You dumbass! Karen shrieked.
“Hey, I warned you not to step into the clove hitch.”
“Now what do we do?”
“I say we just try and whistle the music. If LadyTerri catches me tied to Karen Allen in a Starbucks uniform, we’re both dead anyways. But in the meantime, I want you to have my sunglasses and fedora. She may be really far away and using a high-powered rifle.”
Sure enough, five notes into the song, there was a low rumbling sound. And suddenly the back wall of the walk-in refrigerator slid away, revealing the stage of a vast concert auditorium.
On that stage was a Grand piano.
And somehow, intuitively, knew it was the piano.
“Oh my god!” cried Karen. “The lid is open. Don’t look inside!”
“Too late!” I scream.
***
Thud!
“Ouch!”
Fully awake, I sit up rubbing my sore bicep confusedly.
LadyTerri is glowering.
“What was that for?” I pout.
“Maybe you should explain,” she asks in an acidic tone, “exactly what you were doing at a Starbucks without me.”
[LOBO]Navigation through the indigenous wildlife was slow at best.
Especially when my guide Statico keeps stopping for every little piece of trash.
“Doritos. Still fresh ... three days. They're following us I tell you.”
“If they knew we were here, they would have killed us already,” I says continuing on. “And put those down. Those are stale. You’ll get sick.”
I cock my head slightly, and hear the sound of mushy chewing. Spinning around with the speed of a cat, I knock the Doritos from his hand with a deadly accurate crack!
“Ouch, you bastard!” cries Statico. “Why are you carrying that extension cord anyway?”
“It’s probably dark in there,” I shrug.
“It’s Starbucks.”
“I don’t take chances.”
We advance to the counter, and I scowl at the overhead menu. “I would like a Double Mocha Mocha Cappa Grande el Pueblo Colorado.”
“Coming right up,” says the lady.
“Say, aren’t you Karen Allen?”
“Yes.”
“Karen, have you seen this piano?” I inquire, flipping a picture from my lapel on the counter.
Karen gasps. “It is the Piano of the Frog!”
“Ah-ha!” chuckles Statico while seizing the picture.
“Statico, no!” I warn.
But Statico does not listen; instead he bolts for the exit.
Thinking quickly, I leap behind the counter. “Excuse me miss,” I says tipping my foil fedora. Running into the back kitchen, I press the button to the elevator and descend into the basement where I trip the fuse box.
“Arggh!” cries Statico as the electric doors slide closed on him.
“Give up, Statico!” I demand.
“Give me the extension cord!” he howls painfully.
“No dice, Statico.”
“No time to argue, señor. You throw me the extension cord, I give you the picture.”
Reluctantly, I throw him the cord.
“Haha!” says Statico. “Fooled you! Now I have the picture and the extension cord!”
“Dammit!” I complain. “Why do I always fall for that?”
Grinning wildly, he fumbles to plug in the doors.
“Don’t do it, Statico!”
Suddenly the doors powered up and slammed shut, severing Statico clean in twain.
That’s the third guide I’ve lost this week like that.“I know something that can help you,” says Karen Allen.
“If it’s Lithium-“
“No. It’s an ancient relic that will aide your quest.”
“Cool. Where is it?”
“It’s in the walk-in refrigerator.”
I pull open the large steel door, and sure enough, there it was.
I whistle. “Wow. That’s the Fugue of the Frogster.”
“Yes.”
“Well what am I supposed to do with that?”
“If you play the notes, it will open the gates on your quest.”
“You mean like in that movie The Goonies?”
“I was 34 when that movie came out.”
“You’re never too old for The Goonies. Now go get my damn Double Mocha Mocha Cappa Grande el Camino while I steal this here Foogie thing.”
“But you said you wanted a Double Mocha Mocha Cappa Grande el Pueblo Colorado.”
“Don’t argue with me. I’m a scientist or something.”
Wiggling my fingers, I crouch in front of the sheet music and ever so slowly prepare to snatch it.
Careful, I’m thinking. Easy does it ...
“Here’s your coffee,” says Karen.
“Jesus!” I shriek. “You scared the daylights out of me!”
“Sorry,” she says blandly. “But you don’t really want to take the music like that.”
“Why not?” I reply eyeing my coffee suspiciously.
“It is hooked up to a counterweight, and will trigger a deadly trap.”
“You know,” I says. “I’m not going to tip you when you skimp on the Mocha like this-“
“You need to replace the item with something that weighs about the same thing.”“Like my gun?
"That'll work.
"Okay.”
“Why do you keep your gun in a little brown sack?”
“Look sister. If you want to spend eight hours in Photoshop doctoring pictures for this post, knock yourself out.”
“Be sure you replace the Fugue with the gun smoothly. If you jostle the podium even the slightest bit you will trigger the trap.”
“Yeah. Okay. Lemme finish my coffee first.”
Karen rolls her eyes. “You know, screw this. You’re going to get us killed. How about if I do it?”
“Look, I already put my gun in the sack. There’s no turning back now.”
“Maybe you could tie your extension cord to it, and pull the sheet music off from a distance.”
“Huh,” I says impressed. “That would be cool. We could get the music, and watch this place crumble to burning rubble. But Statico got my cord all knotted. Here. Hold this end while I untangle it.”
Moments later, we were helplessly bound back-to-back to a support beam.
“You dumbass! Karen shrieked.
“Hey, I warned you not to step into the clove hitch.”
“Now what do we do?”
“I say we just try and whistle the music. If LadyTerri catches me tied to Karen Allen in a Starbucks uniform, we’re both dead anyways. But in the meantime, I want you to have my sunglasses and fedora. She may be really far away and using a high-powered rifle.”
Sure enough, five notes into the song, there was a low rumbling sound. And suddenly the back wall of the walk-in refrigerator slid away, revealing the stage of a vast concert auditorium.
On that stage was a Grand piano.
And somehow, intuitively, knew it was the piano.
“Oh my god!” cried Karen. “The lid is open. Don’t look inside!”
“Too late!” I scream.
Thud!
“Ouch!”
Fully awake, I sit up rubbing my sore bicep confusedly.
LadyTerri is glowering.
“What was that for?” I pout.
“Maybe you should explain,” she asks in an acidic tone, “exactly what you were doing at a Starbucks without me.”
Comments
I see two possible problems. Either people are going to think one or the other of us stole the idea from the other, even though as far as I can tell we published simultaneously.
If they think that, one or both of us will have our reputations destroyed. We'll be banned from the company of decent humor bloggers (assuming there are any of course) and we'll probably lose all our readers.
or
they are going to think that we think alike.
OK. I stole it.
:)
During the underground rollercoaster scene in ‘Temple of Doom’, I wear nothing but rollerblades and a thong.