Friday, November 16, 2007

Danger in the Danger Sled

With my debate with Lancelot Link over, I quickly hopped back into the Danger Sled and was roaring across the skies with my faithful sidekick Hudson in the copilot’s seat.

“I am not your sidekick,” Hudson fumed. He grumpily crossed his arms for emphasis. “If anything, you should be my sidekick.”

“Uh huh,” I answered. “You know, you are riding in my spaceplane, right?”

“Kato drives the Green Hornet around,” the private replied.

“You’ve got a point there,” I conceded. “So why are we flying to Pittsburgh to take care of my problems?”

“See, that’s what gets me,” Hudson threw his arms up. “If you’re the sidekick, how come we’re always solving your problems together? We never go to solve my problems.”

“Well, what kind of problems do you have?”

“I dunno,” Hudson shrugged. “My platoon sergeant called me a wuss once.”

“There’s not much I can do for you there.”

“Yeah, well I just want my chance to shine without everyone calling me your sidekick is all,” Hudson snapped.

“Who knows,” I grinned. “Maybe when all this is done, you’ll get the chance.”

“Good news, everybody!” Professor Xavier’s jovial image suddenly flashed up on comm screen. “After your charming and charismatic appearance and Lancelot’s poor showing in the debate, you shot way ahead of him in the polls. News from his camp says that he’s preparing to drop out of the race, altogether.”

“He’s preparing to drop out of the race,” Hudson and I repeated.

“This is good,” I said. “That gets at least one monkey out of the race. Funny, he quickly announced his candidacy, debated me poorly, and is now dropping out. It’s almost as if he showed up for just that very purpose.”

“Yes, that is funny, isn’t it?” Xavier answered. “We can talk about that later, though. I take it you and Hudson are on your way to pick me up so we can capture Mystique?”

“You got it,” I nodded. “And I think that I’ve got the perfect disguise for the job, too.”

“Oh, and what is it?”

“A pair of glasses,” I answered confidently.



“For a disguise?”


“Jon, I don’t think that’s going to work,” Professor Xavier shook his head. “I’m thinking of something that would alter your appearance more than just that.”

“Are you kidding,” I said. “It’s perfect. When you look at Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, do you think of a guy with poor eyesight? Of course not, so that’s the beauty of it!”

“I’m still not convinced that it’ll work,” Xavier said.

“It works for Clark Kent,” I said.


“You know, Clark Kent. Mild mannered reporter from a major metropolitan newspaper?”

“Uh guys,” Hudson interrupted. “I hate to interrupt, but there’s something showing up on the scopes.”

“Something on the scopes?” I asked. “What is it?”

“It’s your device right here, but that’s not important right now,” Hudson answered. “What’s important is that there’s a giant storm right in front of us.”

“Holy cow!” I exclaimed as I saw the immense tempest boil up in front of my very eyes. “Where’d that come from?”

The Danger Sled plunged right into the storm and we were soon being pelted by rain as lighting crashed all around us.

“I can’t believe this thing!” I growled as I tightened my grip on the controls.

“Jon, are you still there?” Xavier’s image crackled with static. “I think I’m losing th- connect-”

“I’m still here,” I called back. “The ships rockin’ like Dick Clark’s Rocking New Years Eve, though.”

A particularly bright flash of lighting monetarily blinded me while the loud crash of the thunder punished my eardrums.

“Jon! Jon!” Hudson yelled. “Lighting just hit the wing!”

I cursed under my breath. “I gotta keep this thing together.”

“Jo-! Are y- --!” Xavier’s image continued to be drowned out by static.

“Your engine’s on fire!” Hudson shouted. “Game over, man! Game over!”

“I got it,” I growled. “Come on.”

“We’re going down!”


Jean-Luc Picard said...

This is bad timing for a Presidential candidate and his sidekick.

A Army Of (Cl)One said...

That how it goes on the campaign trail. Riding high in the polls one minute and crashing and burning the next.

Though for most candidates the whole crashing and burning thing is a metaphor.

Black Widow said...

ouch this is going to hurt

mwb said...

Never trusted that Lance Link.

I mean it's a political debate and he's a monkey - and he didn't fling his poop.

Mighty suspect to me.

Fluke Starbucker said...

You know, Jon, some things are doomed to be the very thing they are named.

With this in mind, have you ever considered calling it the "Safety Sled'?

Or the "Cushy Lander"?

Or the "Crash-lands only on occasion but everyone always walks away without a scratch and it magically fizes itself sled"?

Or even, the "Poonanny Hoopty Wagon"?

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

Poonanny Hoopty Wagon?

Poonanny Hoopty Wagon?

Dang Fluke, where were you when I was naming this thing?

concerneDcitzEnAtDoorPeOplesOdorLike said...


Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

Bwa ha ha ha ha! Oh concerneDcitzEnAtDoorPeOplesOdorLike, you crack me up.