Truth. Justice. Minesweeper.

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

All right. I think I fixed it. Only problem is, now, I broke something else. I can’t see the display. So I am typing c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y.

Anyway. The ball. Man, that was long ago. I show up wearing some medieval stuff Calos lent me, because my real clothes are by now quite unpresentable. I’m fashionably late.

Greyghost and Perseid are in their costumes, which are still daisy-fresh. I don’t know how they do it. Greyghost is conferring with the king, and Perseid is dancing with some... I don’t know; the Duke of Earl or someone. I don’t recognize the instruments the band is playing, either. Mandolins? Is that an instrument? Strummy things.

I’ve started a game with myself in the last few days; seeing how many anachronisms I could spot. The coins have milled edges, so that’s one. The tricorner hats are probably wrong. And I’m sure the metric system wasn’t around in the real middle ages.

I drifted over toward the punch bowl. (Anachronistic?) A robed fat guy with a pointy hat and white beard accosted me. Court wizard, I decided.

"Pardon me, young man," he said.

"Hi. You’re the court wizard, right?"

"Yes," he said, pleased. Then he told me his name.

"I’m sorry," I said. "I didn’t catch that."

"Gluteus Maximus," he repeated. "Pleased to meet you."

And I thought superhero names were bad.
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