Truth. Justice. Minesweeper.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

The other part of Greyghost's plan to bring down Underhand is that, once Cruickshank starts tightening the financial screws on him, Greyghost himself will start picking off the various supervillains Underhand uses as his shock troops, operatives, and troubleshooters. Actually that's not true. Greyghost won't be doing it all himself; he'll be going after some of these supervillains and getting other superheroes or even the cops to nail the rest. That way Underhand won't be able to figure out that it's specifically Greyghost who's after him. Or that's the theory, anyway.

So this weekend, they already got off to a good start. Greyghost set up some kind of stakeout at the airport and nabbed Rob U. Blynde trying to lift a briefcase of microchip samples off one of those handcuff-courier guys. Also, Bob and Headbanger had a fistfight in the middle of Moon Square last night that lasted forty-five minutes and is already being talked about as one of the most titanic hero/villain fights in the history of time and space. Bob won, of course, and Headbanger has checked into the crowbar hotel.

Which is all good. Greyghost has pointed out to me, though, that Underhand and his organization aren't likely to just sit there and take it. Once they figure out that all their problems aren't just coincidence, they'll try to take some kind of action against somebody. I say that Greyghost pointed it out to me, but in fact I had already figured it out, and am expecting the worst.

In other news. Ingrid fixed me up on a date yesterday afternoon with her friend Beautiful Sylvia. It went fine. Sylvia is, as billed, nice to look at, and she's cool, too; Ingrid doesn't hang with any losers. We had a good time, and we liked each other okay. We decided not to do it again.

I admit it. It's partly because I'm going to be seeing Cassie again soon and deep down I still have some hope. Which is pathetic. But it's also because, I don't know, it was just, I don't know.

That was put badly.

I guess she and I just aren't enough of each other's types. Or something. Or, I don't know.

If I was Ron, I would have tried to get her in the sack anyway. And probably succeeded. Which depresses me because I am in fact not Ron, and Sylvia's really pretty. But on the other hand if I was Ron I wouldn't have been out with her in the first place; I'd be engaged to a shapeshifting activist. Which actually makes me feel better in a weird way.

So I don't know where that leaves me.
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