So this one time I was
walking down the street and this guy with a huge red beard, a blue robe, and a
bald head ambled up to me. He introduced himself as “Lloyd”. He went on to
say that his occupation was “wizard” and that he had “chosen me” to be his “magical
apprentice” with no ironic tone implied. While I told him that I am a
missionary type and wizardry counts as “witchcraft”, I told him he
looked cool enough to hang out with. He agreed to hear about Jesus after our
hang out.
We
went downtown, had a beer together, and started to tell each other stories of
our misspent youth. All of a sudden, this big dude with bigger muscles came up to me and said, “HEY!
YOU’RE IN MY SEAT!”
Seeing
as the guy had three feet on me, and that was just in the size of his Adam’s
apple, I started to get up. However, Lloyd placed the butt of his staff on the
big man’s nose and shouted, “NONE SHALL PASS! Leaveth my homie alone.”
Perhaps
it was the preposterousness of an old man defending a bald looking missionary, or
the fact that someone over 100 just used the word “homie”, but the big man looked befuddled. The tattooed biker staggered back and flexed his throbbing muscles in
confusion. Just as he swung his drunken fist, a flash flew from his wooden
staff and punched the man right in the nose. A blue liquid spewed from his
nostrils and landed on the bar beside him. The lummox fell, and the liquid on
the bar turned into doves and flew out of the window.
“Great
magic trick,” I said to Lloyd and we left. On our way back to the apartment, we
sat down on a curb and talked about our travels in life. He talked about the
time he met his wife. The two were at a D and D convention as real wizards.
(They both found it “relaxing”). They got into a friendly argument over what
made the best love potion and ended up drinking each other’s and fell madly in
love. The two ran off to Vegas and were married by an Elvis impersonator named
Conan and a Conan impersonator named Elvis. Afterward, the two moved
into a quaint bungalow, bought furniture out of multiple aisles in IKEA, and had two kids: one goat kid, and one human kid named Hoboken. They were so happy, until one
day, while talking about what color to paint their cheaply made cabinets, their
love potions wore off. However, because they had spent so much of their lives together,
the two had great affection for one another and stayed married in spite of the “spark”
being gone (which, one could argue, is what real love is).
They
were married for 231 years until his wife caught a cold. Tragically, she went
for a walk, sneezed, and fell off of a cliff to her demise. Seeing that his
kids had grown up and moved out, all his possessions reminded him of his wife.
So he sold them all and gave the money to a camp that trains kids to be ambidextrous. Well, all except for his last bag of fairy dust that
reminded him of his wife’s twinkling eyes. He handed it to me and I’ll never
forget what he said.
He
said: “Here,” and, before I could talk to him about Jesus, he disappeared.
So
officer, that’s how I ended up here in the middle of the street. That’s why my
breath smells like really cheap drink specials. That’s why I am holding an
unmarked bag of white powder. As for the beaten up guy at the bar, you gotta
ask Lloyd how that happened… for I am no wizard.
Oh
man… You mean I get to look inside your squad car… I’ve never been inside a
police car before… and in the back seat… you’re so nice and… WHATDA?
*SLAM*
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