Runnin' Down a Dream

“Oh my head hurts.” I could smell the alcohol sweating out of my pores. Probably not very presidential of me to get all liquored up for Halloween, but I just can’t resist a party hosted by Germaine Gregarious.

“Oh yeah, me too.” Hudson rubbed his head. “Man, I must’ve had a dozen wine coolers.”

“You drank wine coolers?” If I wasn’t in such pain, I might’ve laughed. “Do they still make those?”

“Yeah they do,” Hudson replied as a matter of factly.

“And you chose to drink them all night?”

“Yeah I did.”

“What flavor?” I laughed. “Lame-o berry?”

“You don’t get it do you?” Hudson replied. “See when we first got there, someone handed me a wine cooler. If you know anything about drinking, you know that you shouldn’t mix your drinks. So I had to drink ‘em all night.”

“So you got that from your Colonial Marines Survival Manual?” I asked.

“No I got it from going out and drinking,” he answered. “Ever been on shore leave on Arcturus?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Well, when you’re out as much as I am, you’ll pick these things up,” he said with a grin. “If you don’t want to get sick, you stick to one drink.”

“Except for one thing, Hudson.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“You’re hung over. You’re more hung over than I am.”

Hudson looked at me silently for a moment.

“Someone must’ve slipped me something,” he mumbled.

“Right,” I nodded.

“I’m serious, man,” Hudson insisted. “Someone must’ve spiked my drink.”

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. “The Danger Sled’s on autopilot, I’m gonna try to sleep off this hangover. Don’t wake me unless we’re crashing.”

Hudson may have replied, but I was already out of it. I’ve always insisted that the major difference between adults and children is that adults want to take naps. I don’t get to take them often, but boy when I do they feel great, don’t they?

You know, I feel better already. I guess my hangover’s gone, huh?

“Hold there, son,” said a voice. “You shall go no further.”

“Huh?” I looked around but couldn’t see the owner of the voice.

“Right here.” I turned around and there sitting in front of me was a man in a wheelchair. “You may have bested my contemporaries in single combat, but you must beat me for your next test.”

“No way, I’m not fighting some guy in a wheelchair,” I replied. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Well then I’ve got a New Deal for you, sport,” he grinned at me. “A new deal of the sole of my boot!”

And with whooshing that sounded like a giant denim sail rustling in a stiff breeze, the former president leaped high into the air and aimed his foot square at my jaw.

Quickly, I blocked his leg with my right arm and followed up with a chop of my left to the side of his leg right at the knee. He spun down to the ground and quickly rolled with more flapping sounds then was instantly back up again with bo staff in hand.

I quickly grabbed mine and held it up in a defensive position. Roosevelt pressed the attack, swinging his weapon in short, powerful chops. I defended them all with mine. Each blow of his cracking against mine sounded like a thousand branches crashing in a thousand forests.


I waited until I felt the time was right, then with a spinning back kick, I sent the former president flying off into the valley. He crashed there with the sound of a hundred cement trucks each filled with one hundred cinder blocks crashing into one hundred brick walls during one hundred rainstorms.

“Haaiiiiiiiiiiiii!” Roosevelt attacked again. This time, by hurling his body high into the air, then aiming it straight towards me with his fist leading the charge. I quickly leaped out of his way and rolled across the ground, I then snapped back onto my feet, but he was already upon me again.

I grabbed his hand with mine, then twisted my body once again and threw him a second time far into the same valley. This time, I didn’t wait for him to recover. I dashed quickly to where he landed. He wasn’t there, though.

“You are worthy,” he said from behind me. “You have earned the Longevity of Roosevelt.”

He disappeared into a puff of smoke in front of my agape mouth and wide open eyes.

“Good thing I didn’t earn his paralytic illness,” I mused.

“Quiet you!” he roared at me from a puff of smoke, then disappeared once again from whence he came.