Somewhat-Conqueror Bob

Dave Tai
Dave Tai
Aug 22, 2017 · 2 min read

“Bob?” Says Pink Spandex.

“It’s Destructor! Lord of Chaos- Dancer of Death- Conqueror of the Night!” Bob yells in as deep a voice as he could muster but it squeaked a little at the end.

“Sure, Bob.” Pink Spandex says without enthusiasm. “Just one thing before we head out. Why does everyone else get black spandex?”

“Oh.” Bob scratched the back of his head a little, searching for the best way to phrase it. “Well, our Factory of Fear was faced with some logistical difficulties.”

Pink Spandex rolls his eyes. “So eBay ran out of black…”

“Yes,” Bob replies in hushed tones. “They emailed me saying they would restock next week.”

*

“I am Destructor! Lord of Chaos- Dancer of Death- Conqueror of the Night!” Bob says this time without his voice breaking.

The cowering crowd has been lined up with their faces against the wall so none of them really saw Bob’s “Dance of Death” as he announced himself. Which really worked in his favour considering the clunky movements and the almost-trip.

Pink Spandex points a stick crackling with jolts of electricity at the teller who is shoving money into an ornamental chest. “Damn another one this week,” she muttered under her breath.

“Bob,” Pink Spandex calls out. Bob flinches but before he can react, Pink Spandex continues, “I can’t do this.”

“What did you say…Hell Raiser?”

“Stop calling me that. It’s Hector.” Bob waves desperately for him to play along but none of it got to Hector. “I really need to pee.”

“Then do it here!” Bob commanded. “I don’t care.”

“I would damn it! But these suits you bought don’t have any zippers.”

Hector and Bob looked at each other in a stillness that only made the situation worse.

*

This afternoon, a robbery happened at the Again Street Bank. Eye witnesses saw a man tripping over his cape, holding onto a chest with the get away money. He’s supposedly called Bob. Another unidentifiable three men in black spandex and a naked man named Hector. They exited the bank and waited for five minutes as the Uber they booked had to drop someone off first.


Stories at 90km/h (sometimes 0km/h)

is a series where I free-write on my train rides.

Rule #1: It stops the moment I exit the train.

Rule #2: No editing or adding on after the ride.

Expect half-finished things on most days and very finished things on days when the train breaks down.

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