Story 402: Replacement Pianist

 (Backstage, 20 minutes before showtime)

Singer: (To Stage Manager as the latter rushes over) Hi, yeah, have you heard from my partner yet?  They’re usually here before I am, and the conspicuous absence is making me feel nervous for the first time in my professional life.  I don’t like it much.

Stage Manager: We actually just got word they’re stuck in traffic with horrendous roadwork and can’t get here until… (Checks watch) tomorrow, so, we called in our house pianist who’ll be playing for you tonight instead, yay!

Pianist: (Appears suddenly) `Sup.

Singer: Ohhhh, hello, um, I’m not sure this is gonna work – we’ve never played together before.

Pianist: No prob: just give me the notes, I’ll bang `em out.  (Yawns)

Singer: Yeah, that’s great; the thing is, my partner and I have a whole routine for the show and we continually play off each other, know what I mean?

Pianist: Sure-sure, if you give me the lines I’ll say whatever you want.

Singer: That’s not – it’s a whole chemistry thing we’ve built up over years of performing together –

Pianist: Guess the audience’ll have to settle for competent instrumentalization instead; just don’t ad lib on me, m’kay?

Singer: Practically the whole show’s an ad lib!  I also interact with the audience, and it can go in any direction!  The show is a living, breathing thing!

Pianist: Wow.  No wonder they’re charging a hundred bucks a ticket here: this all sounds very involved.

Singer: A hundred – ?!

Stage Manager: (To Singer) Look, unless your partner can video in playing the keyboard while crawling along the freeway, this is the best we can do without cancelling the show last minute.

Singer: (Whips out a cell phone) That is an excellent idea – I know there’s a spare keyboard in the car trunk, technology works wonders, we can do this!  (Calls Partner)

Partner: (Listens to the proposed show format while sitting five lanes deep in non-moving traffic) Are you kidding me?!

Singer: (Disconnects the call and turns to the other two) I’m ready when you are.

Stage Manager: Great!  (Runs away to cue everyone)

Pianist: So, this show got an intermission?

Singer: Intermissions ruin my momentum.

Pianist: Then we may have a problem about 45 minutes in.

(Showtime)

Stage Manager: (On stage, addressing Audience) …And now, without further ado, let’s give a big round of applause to tonight’s star performer!

(Audience applauds as Singer enters, beaming and waving; Pianist heads straight for the piano and begins scanning the pages of music and a set list there)

Singer: (Arrives at the microphone and a small table where there are notes and a glass of water) Hello, all!  I already love you.

Audience: Wooooo!!!!

Singer: Now, let’s begin with one of my favorites.  (Whispers to Pianist) Number 3 on the list.

Pianist: (Whispers to Singer) You sure you wanna open with that one?  (Singer glares at Pianist, who takes out the corresponding sheet music and begins playing)

Singer: (To Audience) You know, when I first began my stage career, it was at a local theater just like this.

Audience: Wooooo!!!!

Pianist: How long you want me to keep playing the intro?

Singer: I’ll signal you – (To Audience) I was in high school, and –

Pianist: A nod, a wave, a scream, what?

Singer: …I’ll say “Go.”

Pianist: (Shrugs) Your show.

Singer: (To Audience) I auditioned for the summer musical and I had never sung in front of an audience before that wasn’t a shower nozzle and bar of soap –

Pianist: Any idea how long this is gonna go on, ballpark?  My fingers are getting bored.

Singer: …Go.

(They perform several songs in a row; Singer skips over most of the pre-planned patter)

Singer: This next song is one I’ll always treasure, since it was in the show that was my Broadway debut.

Audience: Wooooo!!!!

Pianist: Funny story: I actually saw you in that.  You’ve gotten better.

Singer: (Smiling through gritted teeth) You’re a trip!

(They get halfway through the song)

Pianist: (Stops playing) Hold on – those aren’t the lyrics for that line.

Singer: (Laughing) Oh yes, audiences are used to a little artistic license on the classics, aren’t you all?  (Audience applauds)

Pianist: I don’t think the original songwriter’d recognize that license – you might be in for a copyright infringement lawsuit if word gets out.  The Dramatists Guild’d have a field day, and rightfully so.

Singer: (Smiling strainedly) Let’s take it from the top, shall we?

Pianist: Argh, I’ve gotta play this one all over again?!  (Starts the song over with more insistent depressing of the keys)

(Finale)

Singer: (After finishing on a majestic note to thunderous applause) Thank you!  You’ve been a wonderful audience!  (They keep cheering) OK, should we do one more?

Audience: Wooooo!!!!

Pianist: No.

Singer: Number 35!

(They perform three more songs)

Singer: Thank you, I love you, good night!

Pianist: Ahem!

Singer: And let’s give a hand to tonight’s pianist who is not my regular accompanist!  (Applauds Pianist)

Audience: Wooooo!!!!

Pianist: You all cheer at anything.

(Backstage)

Stage Manager: That was great!  And demand was so high for this show that we want you to do another one here tomorrow night!  Your manager said you were available.

Singer: Did they now.  Well, my partner should be out of traffic by then, so I’m sure the magic tonight won’t be repeated.  (To Pianist) It’s been real.

Pianist: Yeah, I’ve had worse.

Singer: I haven’t.  (Starts to leave)

Pianist: Hey, one more thing?

Singer: (Turns back sharply) What?!

Pianist: Can I have your autograph?

Story 401: Ice Truck Vs Ice Cream Truck

 On a humid, lazy, summer afternoon in Suburbia, USA, the hazy streets are empty as all the idle children rest in their homes, freezing in those with air conditioning and melting in those without.  The hours tick by slowly, and all is still.

Then, in the distance….

They hear it: The Call.  Faintly at first, then not much louder as it approaches:

<Bing, bing-bing-bing-bing-bing, bing-bing, bing, bing-bing, bing-bing, bing>

One-by-one, ears perk up; heads peek out windows; and The Pleading begins:

“Can-I-have-some-money-for-the-ice-truck-please-please-please-please-PLEEEEAAAAAASSSSEEEEE?!!!!!”

“Yes, fine, take it, but no dessert tonight then.”

“Yayyyyyyyyyy – ohhhhhhhh – yayyyyyyy!!!!!”

The ice truck rounds the corner at the head of the block and stops halfway down as The Pediatric Swarm approaches; the music continues as Ice Truck Employee dutifully takes orders and money and hands over flavored ices to the little waiting hands, remembering an age when the thought of owning an ice truck all summer long was the height of cool.

“Ha!”

“What?”

“Nothing, kid – enjoy the ice, don’t play in the street, see you all tomorrow.”  The ice truck is driven to the next block to repeat the ritual.

And so it goes, all summer long.

Until one day.

As the ice truck begins its usual approach down the block, in the distance at the other end an ice cream truck appears and begins its approach.

<Bing, bing-bing-bing-bing->

<Doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot, doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot, doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot>

The two trucks stop 10 feet apart, grille staring down grille.  Between them on the sidewalk stand an expectant group of children, money in fists, and heads swinging back and forth between the two vehicles.

Ice Truck Employee leans out the driver’s side window to address Ice Cream Truck Employee: “You’re poaching, friend: this here’s Ice Truck Territory.”

Ice Cream Truck Employee leans out the driver’s side window and blows a disdainful bubble of gum: “I reckon this here’s Ice Cream Truck Territory now, friend.”

“Says who?”

“Says my truck being here, that’s who.”

Little heads swivel back to the ice truck for a response.

“Whelp,” Ice Truck Employee says while revving the engine, “suppose I reckon this block ain’t big enough for the both of us, partner.”

Ice Cream Truck Employee also revs the engine: “Suppose not.  We could act like civilized human beings and call our respective Corporate offices to straighten out our distribution routes, but I saw we joust for it instead.”

“That is an excellent idea.” 

Each truck beeps as they begin slowly reversing away from each other. 

One child goes up to the ice truck and speaks through the permanently open passenger’s side window: “I actually want cups from both of your trucks – ”

“Stay out of this, Susie!” 

Ice Truck Employee floors the gas to quickly reach the top of the street, puts on the parking brake, and starts to gather supplies.  With a flash of headlights from each truck, they signal they are ready.  The competing theme music tunes are blared at maximum volume from each truck’s rooftop speaker; tires squeal and spew smoke; and both trucks speed toward each other as their drivers lean out the windows, one foot stretched to depress the gas pedal.  Ice Cream Truck Employee hauls out a lance made of stacked cones six feet long, topped by a giant scoop of blue raspberry/vanilla swirl; Ice Truck Employee also hauls out a lance, this one made of cups and topped with a chunk of lemon ice.  Each lance topper is as hard as a rock.

Both Employees scream a battle cry in the key of their truck’s theme music and drive slightly to the side of each other so the trucks do not crash but their lances can reach the other’s face.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!” screams Ice Truck Employee.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!” screams Ice Cream Truck Employee.

 “Aaaaaahhhh!” scream the children observers, already mourning the waste of the lance toppers.

<Bing, bing-bing-bing-bing> screams the ice truck speaker.

<Doot-doot-doot-doot-doot> screams the ice cream truck speaker.

The trucks pass, and each Employee whiffs their chance.

“Ohhhhhhh,” the children sigh in a mixture of relief and disappointment.

The trucks skid while turning to face each other again, the lance toppers wobbling dangerously.  The Employees rev their engines anew.

“Best two out of three?” Ice Cream Truck Employee snarls.

“Bring it on!” Ice Truck Employee crows.

“HOLD IT!”

Contestants and spectators turn to face an unexpected and unwelcome group on the scene: Angry Parents

“What on Earth is going on here?!” Spokesparent demands.

“This doesn’t concern you, Meddling Sire!”  Ice Cream Truck Employee shakes the lance at the new group, nearly dislodging the melting weapon.

“Listen pal, I called your boss: your route’s scheduled to come through here at 4:00 on a Sunday, you can come earlier on Saturdays, now beat it!”

Ice Cream Truck Employee turns to glare at Ice Truck Employee: “This isn’t over yet, comrade: we’ll meet again on the field of battle, and I will have vengeance!”  Ice Cream Truck Employee draws the lance back inside the truck and begins licking the topper while executing a slow K-turn to exit the block, lowering the speaker’s music a smidgen on the way.

Ice Truck Employee turns to Spokesparent: “Thanks.”

“Don’t bother – I called your boss too, and you’re late for the rest of your route, plus you’re gonna get written up for wasting supplies and endangering the well-being of minors.”

“Oh.”  Ice Truck Employee turns to the group of children: “Anyone still want an ice?”

They all raise their money fists into the air: “Yaaaaayyyyy!!!!”

“See – they’ll always love me.”

Story 400: Happy Anniversary to Me?

 (Friend 1 is sitting on a chair in the kitchen, staring into empty space, when the phone rings)

Friend 1: (Stares at the ringing phone in confusion for a few moments, then answers it) Heeeyyy???

Friend 2: Hiiiii!!!  Happy Birthday!

Friend 1: It’s not my birthday.

Friend 2: …Since when?

Friend 1: We all only ever get one birthday: the rest are just anniversaries, celebrating the day of our birth.

Friend 2: Oh for crying out – Happy Anniversary, then.

Friend 1: Thanks, but it’s a bummer.

Friend 2: Why?  This year you said you wanted to do, and I quote, “Absolutely Nothing,” and it’s not a dreaded milestone like 150 or something.

Friend 1: I know, but it’s making me look back on my steadily accumulating years of life and realize that, yes, I really have done nothing of concrete value in pretty much any of them.

Friend 2: Would you please go volunteer at the animal shelter or literacy center already so this recurring theme’ll finally be a moot point?

Friend 1: I’m too lazy.

Friend 2: Well then, why even bring it up?

Friend 1: I’m also thinking back on my birthdays as a kid –

Friend 2: Ah-ah, don’t you mean “anniversaries”?

Friend 1: I was ignorant of the true meanings of those words at the time.  Anyway: all those fun, unnecessary celebrations.  Why do we make a big deal of the day we were thrust into this cold, uncaring world?  Is it to make up for the other 364 that are horrific?

Friend 2: They’re not always that bad.

Friend 1: Regardless.  Why do we throw destructive parties or fly out to Las Vegas or eat an entire cake or a combination of all these things on the same day in the Earth’s rotation around the Sun just to mark off another year down the drain?

Friend 2: If you want a serious answer, I don’t have one.

Friend 1: It’s just so odd.  Whose idea was it that everyone should want to highlight the day showing you’re one more year closer to death?

Friend 2: If I go back in time to find out, would you shut up about it then?

Friend 1: Maybe.  I just find the whole birthday business a very strange habit.

Friend 2: Well, think of it as having survived another year instead, if that makes you feel better.

Friend 1: It doesn’t.

Friend 2: Then maybe think all the way back to when you were a blissfully ignorant child and actually enjoyed the day without pondering existential dilemmas.  Go play with your toys or swim in a pool or whatever you did way back when.

Friend 1: Any toys I have left are in a storage bin buried somewhere, and the building’s pool is closed this year due to lack of lifeguards.

Friend 2: Argh, fine – chocolate, then.  You still like chocolate, right?

Friend 1: To an unhealthy degree, yes.

Friend 2: Then go get a decadently rich chocolate dessert and celebrate your anniversary with life by treating your taste buds and neurotransmitters to bean-flavored antioxidants.

Friend 1: That sounds like an excellent idea – I have a few tasties tucked away that’ll fit the bill nicely, so I’ll go get them right now!

Friend 2: Good: go to town toasting your long-term relationship with yourself.

Friend 1: I knew I was friends with you for a reason.

Story 399: Extreme Facial

 In a spa’s waiting room, the Receptionist looked up as the Customer entered with a blast of outside oven air; the welcoming smile was maintained as the former realized the latter was glistening.

“Hello,” the Receptionist said while trying to breathe only through the mouth, “you have an appointment?”

“Yeah,” the Customer said while patting various body parts with a suddenly-produced towel.  “Last name’s -----; I’d made a 3:00 appointment for a facial, not knowing at the time that today would be Summer with a capital ‘S.’”

The Receptionist navigated through the computer: “Oh yes, here you are.  There’re few forms to fill out – would you like to… freshen up first?”

“Would I ever!  It’s 105° Celsius outside, and as you’ve undoubtedly noticed, I’m a bit drippy.”

“Heh-heh, you mean it’s actually 105°… Fahrenheit?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you.”

“Bathroom’s down the hall.”

After the Customer washed up/dried off and completed the questionnaire, the Aesthetician unobtrusively appeared to take the forms and lead the way to the treatment room. There was dim lighting, a narrow bed piled up with comfy blankets, and soothing wind chime music playing softly.

“Aaaaaaahhhh….” the Customer sighed, “this is the mood setting I forgot to anticipate in my rush to get here.”

“Hm?”  The Aesthetician was distracted in the routine of preparing for the session.  “Oh, yes, completely relax and let your cares fade away for the next hour.  Now please strip off your top and put this wrap on.”  Said wrap was pointed out on the bed.

The Customer stared at it.  “Oh.  Right.  Also forgot about the near-nudity required at these things.”

The Aesthetician left the room for a few minutes to give the Customer privacy and time to change, and also to review the skin issues selected on the forms: “Oh my: we have our work cut out for us today.”

Knocking when re-entering the room, the Aesthetician saw the Customer lying on the bed under the blankets, eyes closed, slightly snoring: “Ahem!”

The Customer blinked rapidly: “Oh hey, what’s up?”

The Aesthetician moved behind the bed and placed a towel around the Customer’s hair: “So, I’m going to start with some exfoliators: you indicated on the forms you have issues with acne, eczema, rosacea, dry skin, and oily skin?”

“Yeah, it’s a big ol’ mess in there.”

“Right – here we go.”

The Aesthetician rubbed various products onto the Customer’s face that gently removed a mini-layer of epidermis while the latter increasingly relaxed.

“This is great….”

“Uh-huh.”  The Aesthetician pulled down a face shield and swung a bright light over the Customer’s head: “And now, we begin The Extraction.”

The Customer’s eyes flew wide open: “Huh?”

The Aesthetician produced a mini-jackhammer and began drilling away at all the pesky acne pustules that covered the Customer’s face.  After five minutes, the Aesthetician turned off the jackhammer and swapped it out for an electric prod: “And now, time for us to teach those ingrown hairs who’s boss.”

“Wait a sec – ” ZAP!  ZAP-ZAP-ZAP!

“Ooh,” the Aesthetician muttered while peering closer, “we’ve got a stubborn one on your right cheek.”

“Oh, that’s been there for ages; it’s an ongoing battle.”

“Let’s settle this once and for all, shall we?”  ZAAAAAAAP!!!!

When the electricity stopped, the Customer wearily asked, “Is that my face that’s smoking?”

“Not at all – just need to let our friend here cool off a minute so as not to overheat.  Aaaaand here we go!”  ZAP-ZAP-ZAP –

“You know, I think I’ll start wearing a moustache – ”

“Nonsense: no one with any sense of current Western fashion trends wears moustaches without some kind of complementary beard anymore; it just looks incomplete.  Now, let us resume removing the inflammation.”  Jackhammer again.

Sometime later, the Aesthetician set that tool aside and whipped out a sander: “And now, this should eradicate the rest of the flesh that’s the source of most of your facial discomfort.”

“Wait – ” scrape – “I’m confused – ” scrape – “are you an aesthetician – ” scrape-scrape – “or an intense dermatologist?!”  Scrape-scrape-scraaaaaaape….

“Now!”  The Aesthetician flung down the sander and briskly rubbed some oil between the hands.  “Time for the massage.”

“Oh thank goodness – ” the Aesthetician proceeded to compress the Customer’s skull.  Shoulders, arms, and hands then were dislocated and reinserted back into their sockets; there was one final smoothing out of muscles, and then the Aesthetician sat back, exhausted.

“Right!  All done.  I’ll leave you some water to replace the moisture you’ve lost as you get dressed before you come back to the front desk and give me my tip.”  The Aesthetician left the room and washed off the detritus from the session.

The Customer shakily returned to the front desk and was greeted by the Receptionist: “Hi there!  Feel nice and refreshed?”

“You have a mirror?”

“Sure!”  The Receptionist held up a small one.

“Huh.”  The Customer turned this way and that while looking at the reflection.  “It’s still there.”

“What, a blemish you wanted to get rid of?”

“No: my face.”

The Aesthetician emerged from the back expectantly: “Hello-hello-hello!”

The Customer handed over a bill: “Here you go, everything was great, I never want to see you again, thanks.”

“You’re welcome, come back soon, bye!”  The Aesthetician left to prepare for the next appointment: a deep-tissue, deep-nail pedicure.

The Customer turned back to the Receptionist: “I have a gift certificate.”

“Sure, I’ll take that for you!”  While processing the transaction, the Receptionist made a last-ditch effort for repeat business: “You know, we offer 25% off sales throughout the year – one’s even coming up in about two weeks!”

The Customer gingerly touched the right cheek, wincing: “I’ll have to think about it; this was a little more… intense than I expected for a spa visit.”

“Well, that’s because this is actually a medical spa – here, we don’t fool around.”

Story 398: Time for the Mastodon Check

 (On a park trail)

Friend 1: – and that’s the last time I’m getting that emotionally involved in a TV series ever again: after years of teasing, the showrunners basically gave the fans what we wanted with one hand, then punched us in the face with the other.

Friend 2: Uh-huh.  We all tell ourselves that, right up until the moment we do it all over again with the next show that sucks us in.

Friend 1: Of course.

(They walk for several seconds in silence)

Friend 2: Heh-heh – mastodon check.

Friend 1: I… don’t think I’ve ever heard two words strung together that made less sense then what you uttered just now.  Is my brain finally breaking down?

Friend 2: No, I’m just making a joke: someone once told me that “mastodon check” refers back to when our prehistoric ancestors hadn’t conquered Earth yet and still lived among larger creatures that could regularly pick them off, so they’d have to constantly be aware of what was around them when out hunter-gathering.  So present-day, when there’s a lull in conversation about every 20 minutes, it’s supposedly our instincts kicking in for us to look out that no giant hungry creatures like mastodons have snuck up on us while we were chit-chatting.

Friend 1: Oh.  Should we be looking for them, then?

Friend 2: …No, they’ve been extinct for quite some time.

Friend 1: Oh good.  For a minute there I thought one’d come out of the woods and eat us.

 Friend 2: You’re probably just hearing the deer – all you’d have to worry about from them coming out of the woods is running you over.

Friend 1: Yeah, that’d be a bummer.  You know, this whole thing about Neanderthals and woolly mammoths –

Friend 2: Mastodons.

Friend 1: – sounds like an interesting social experiment I’d like to try out.

Friend 2: I don’t like the sound of that.

Friend 2: Don’t worry, it’ll be purely observational.  It’ll be interesting to see how primitive we as a species still are and always will be.

Friend 2: I’d keep that observation to yourself.

 THE NEXT DAY

 (At an office, Friend 1 is in a conference room with several coworkers)

Coworker 1: OK, I think that’s it – meeting adjourned.  (Everyone starts to leave)

Friend 1: Wait a minute, shouldn’t we all –

Coworker 1: What?  Get out of here?  Yes.

Friend 1: – hang back for a few minutes?  We buzzed right through that meeting and there were no pauses whatsoever.

Coworker 2: Darn tootin’ – I hate meetings.

Friend 1: So, we have a few more minutes, and we should just, you know, take a breather.

Coworker 1: (Looks at cell phone) Yeah, OK, I’ve got a few before my next meeting.

Coworker 3: Another meeting?

Coworker 1: They’re all I seem to do lately.

Coworker 2: I hate meetings.

Coworker 1: Yes, we established that – I think you’ll find few who don’t.

Coworker 4: I miss when they’d serve food at these things.

The Rest: Yeah.

(They all sigh, then stare at the table in silence for several seconds)

Friend 1: (Whispers) Mastodon check….

Coworker 1: What?

Friend 1: I said, look at the time, gotta go, bye!  (Runs out of the room)

Coworker 3: (Yelling after Friend 1) But this was your idea!

 THE NEXT DAY

 (In a restaurant, Friend 1 is at dinner with a date)

Date: I told myself I’d never do online dating, but with everything going on lately, I figured, why not, eh?

Friend 1: (Nodding intensely while keeping an eye on one arm, sporting a wristwatch, stretched out on the table) Uh-huh, uh-huh, well, one needs to keep busy, doesn’t one, right?

Date: (Eyes dart over to Friend 1’s arm) Doooo you need to head out somewhere soon?

Friend 1: Huh?

Date: (Points to the watch) I don’t want to keep you.

Friend 1: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Date: Oh-kay.  (Drinks some water while looking around the restaurant)

Friend 1: Ha!  Twenty minutes!

Date: Excuse me?

Friend 1: Oh, I guess it doesn’t count if it’s more of an awkward pause than a natural lull.

Date: I feel like we’re having two different conversations here.

Friend 1: Sorry, don’t mind me, just doing a mental reset…. (Stares at the watch to memorize the new time)

Date: Maybe I should just ask for the check.

Friend 1: (Looks up suddenly) The mastodon check?!

Date: What?

Friend 1: What?

 THE NEXT DAY

(Friend 1 is at a family cook-out; relatives are standing around holding plates because all the tables are filled with the food being served)

Relative 1: (To Relative 2) Look, we’re never going to agree on this, so we might as well change the subject.  Wanna talk about politics instead?

Relative 2: YES!

Friend 1: (Walks over to them, holding a plate of food in one hand and a watch in the other) Excuse me, how long have you two been talking together?

Relative 2: About five minutes, why?

Friend 1: Drat, thought it was longer.  Proceed.  (Leaves)

Relative 1: (Mutters to Relative 2) That one’s always been a bit off.

(Friend 1 hovers on the edge of a larger, laughing group, which tapers off into silence)

Friend 1: (Hisses) Yessss… wait, forgot to set the time.

Relative 3: (Points to the distance) Hey, what’s that over there?

(Everyone shields their eyes as they turn to stare at a large shape in the distance coming closer to them; Friend 1’s eyes widen while the watch and plate are dropped)

Friend 1: (In a horrified whisper) The mastodon!

Relative 4: (Running in from the edges of the property) Everyone, quick, some mutant elephant’s on the loose or something, run!

(The relatives all drop their plates and run, forgetting that most of them had arrived in cars)

 Friend 1: (Answers ringing cell phone while on the move) You won’t believe what’s happening here right now!

Friend 2: (Relaxing on the living room couch while watching the TV) Oh, it’s by you?  I saw on the news some evil scientist cloned a mastodon from fossils and set it off on a rampage to “see Nature reassert its dominance,” and I immediately thought of you.  Guess you’d better run in the opposite direction then, huh.

Friend 1: (Still talking on the phone while running) You think our hunter-gathering instincts’ll kick in enough for us to fashion spears and herd this thing to the nearest nature preserve?!

Friend 2: I doubt it – I’m surprised any of you are even able enough to run away at this point in our species’ evolution.

Friend 1: (Starting to stagger) Seeing as I’m about to pass out from lack of air and muscle tone, I agreeeee!!!!