Wednesday, March 19, 2008

A Quest: Part 1

‘Twas but a fortnight ago that unto me a quest did come. It appeared as if by magic in a box, of which only I possessed the key. Upon gazing upon the sealed envelope, my heart did soar, for I knew adventure awaited inside.

Upon opening the envelope, I did find a missive addressed to me from a place called the DMV. Registration was required, lest my vehicle, a noble pickup of few dents and possessing a good radio, be declared remiss in the eyes of the law.

“Huzzah!” I shouted, startling the portly gentleman to my left, as he himself gazed upon his letters. “At last,” quoth I. “A quest worthy of one such as myself!” The gentleman edged away, yet I pretended not to notice.

“Huzzah!” I shouted again, noticing the Value Pac of coupons. “Dungbutter!” came next, as I opened my bill of credit, yet that is another story.

To my supervisor I did fly the next day, with news of my quest. “Steve!” I did cry. “To the DMV I must go!”

“Please stop shouting,” he replied. “Fine, just shoot me an email.”

“Verily! It shall be in your inbox in mere moments!”

An email was drafted, nay, forged, and sent forthwith to Steve the Managerial, so that he knew well my plan. And then I was off, descending by elevator into the very bowels of the parking garage where my pickup did wait, gleaming primer-gray in the darkness.

The engine sparked to life with the turning of the One True Key. Four cylinders whined in unison, like a gang of children begging for sweets, and I was off. Many miles were driven, many gears shifted, many songs sung off-key. At long last, I arrived at the DMV and maneuvered my truck betwixt the lines of parking, and then securing my paperwork, exited with a joyous cry.

Across the lot I bounded, upon the sidewalk I leapt, past the mailbox I galumphed, and found myself before the DMV. “Catnuts!” escaped my lips, for inside the fortress waited a veritable throng of fellow adventurers, each clutching a numbered slip of paper.

I entered, reminding myself to speak softly in this most sacred temple of bureaucracy, lest I offend the gods that dwelt there. I secured for myself a square of paper, upon which was inscribed one-hundred-and-three in bold red letters. The eldritch display upon the wall read merely fifty-eight, so I steeled myself for a long wait, yet knew the rewards for such a lengthy quest would be great.

Return later, as the adventure will continue anon!

2 comments:

Deb said...

Jason, not only did I spit all over my monitor in repeated mirth whilst reading this excellently keyboarded missive, I have discovered within those words my new, just-about-acceptable-around-the-parents epithet.

Catnuts.

You, sir, are a genius.

Jason Janicki said...

Glad you enjoyed the blog. Please use 'catnuts' as much as possible. It has long been a dream of mine to inspire a swear-word :)