By Sean Nicolle, 906
“There is no doubt in my mind that I’m right when I say that at the top of the mountain, I discovered the path to escape the escape the wonderland of Mother D, our evil overlord of incomprehendible sizes.”
Argus Pillowmint was your typical middle-aged hermit. Argus lived in the basement of his son’s house, with his worldly possessions being a grand total of two mangled robes, of which moths had demonstrated their lace-making abilities, one alarm clock, a meditation rug, and a backgammon set worth five hundred thousand dollars. Argus had lived alone for the past 30 years, as his wife and son had died in a car accident during this period, which meant that the rest of the house was void of inhabitants, bar the moths, of course.
Stroking his preposterously long beard, Argus looked at his antique alarm clock, and realised that it was midday, meaning that it was time to go to backgammon. So, he carefully grabbed his set, and left his desolate house, even more desolate than usual. As he walked in the door, Argus heard the signature catchcry of his sparring partner, Robert Peterson, which was, ‘Hurrah, I won, now let us do a merry jig.’ As he turned around the corner, he saw his former mentor, Steven, wearing a long black robe, and streaking an even larger beard than Argus’.
“Ah, now the gang has arrived, let us start our tournament. Do we all agree on Argus and Robert playing first, I play the winner, and then we call it a day?” Steven proposed in a very wise voice. Many hours later, after the aforementioned two games, twenty-seven jigs, a round of gymnastics, and a volleyball tournament, Argus was finally declared the champion by a solitary point. Argus bid Robert and Steven farewell, and then headed home to a dinner of baked beans and spinach casserole.
On the walk home, Argus accidentally took a wrong turn, despite the fact that he had first walked home from the club twenty-seven years ago, and came across a dingy alley glowing effervescently in the night sky, which drew Argus’ attention. Aimlessly, Argus wandered down the alley, and found a mysterious office, which he felt inclined to enter.
When he entered, he noticed a tall, handsome man standing in the corner, with a long white cloak and a facial expression of a time-wizened person. ‘Welcome, brother, to the cathedral. My name is Reverend Bell; however, you may call me…… Reverend Bell.’ ‘How do I get home,’ Argus asked the mysterious stranger. “You already are home,’ replied Reverend Bell. Curious, Argus asked Reverend Bell, ‘How do you figure?’
Reverend Bell cleared his throat, stood in a manly pose, and prepared to tell a story. ‘You see, brother, we all come from a magical place of time and wisdom contained within her Motherness, poised to serve out time within the great walls of D, as we rotate around the centre of Mother D, what you call the Sun, as we rotate on our D axis.’
‘For some reason, I believe you.’ a startled Argus Desmond Pillowmint expressed. ‘Well, then, you must partake in one quest to escape the clutches of Mother D forever. You must climb to the top of the tallest mountain, and you will see a hole in the sky. Jump towards it exactly twenty-seven times, then spin around twice, and do a handstand on top of a sherpa, and you will be taken to a much greater place. Now go, pack your possessions, and be back in a week,’ responded Reverend Bell. ‘Let me grab my other robe, and I’ll be ready in 15 minutes if, and only if, you tell me one thing. How do I get home?’ Argus questioned. “Go down the alley and turn left twice, and you will be home,’ answered the Reverend.
Argus, in the most excited state he had been in for years, shuffled home as quickly as he could in a long robe, grabbed his other robe, and the alarm clock, and went back to Reverend Bell, in exactly 14 minutes and 52.57 seconds. ‘I’ve been expecting you,’ exclaimed Reverend Bell in a mysterious voice. ‘Well, of course you have, I said I’d be here around now,’ corrected Argus. ‘You seem to be a man of your word. I have arranged a number of sherpas to accompany you to India, and then you will have to ride donkeys to Nepal,’ stated the Reverend.
‘Well then, where are they,’ questioned Argus. ‘Why, they are right in the cupboard in the corner.’ Sure enough, when he opened the cupboard, there were five sherpas on donkeys, and an extra donkey for him. ‘Well then, let us go to the docks,’ an excited sherpa exclaimed. When they arrived at the docks, they saw a very rundown-looking Indian boat, with room for six donkeys and one person. ‘How do you all fit on the boat,’ Argus questioned inquisitively. ‘Well, obviously, we sit on our donkeys for the journey.’ ‘Obviously?’ questioned Argus. ‘Obviously,’ expressed a sherpa.
After many days, they finally made their way to the north-easternmost port in India, stocked up on supplies, and rode their donkeys to Mount Everest. Again, after many weeks, they had finished their ride, and, just to prove how athletic a fifty-five year old in a long robe can be, he scampered up Everest in little more than a day, with no apparent problem, except for the fact that at one stage near the top, he had accidentally pushed all but one of the sherpas off the mountain.
When he reached the top, he briefly admired the view that Everest offered, and then, he looked up. He saw a large, gaping hole in the sky, upon which he jumped up and down twenty-seven times, rotated around twice, and did a handstand on the remaining sherpa’s back. ‘Argus Pillowmint,’ said a loud voice. ‘Mother D?’ exclaimed Argus. ‘You have an alarm clock with you. Thus, you shall not pass. Upon hearing this, Argus was that upset with her ruling that he jumped off the side of Mount Everest, plummeting to a painful death.
i love sean, he is a machine and a wonderfully muscular sexy man who i feel privileged to call my friend, he like me is also mad.
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