Free Ticket To Nowhere Chapter 9
A Stark Mystery
The horde of flying monkies seemed as if it was growing by the second. Actually, it was getting bigger by the second.
Having never been a genius with spatial orientation — I failed parallel parking three times — I really had no idea how much time we had before they rained monkey poop on our heads.
No, I’m serious. Stop laughing. The last time the trooper just shook his head, passed me and recommended I ride a bicycle from now on.
Anyway, here I am standing in the middle of a freaking cornfield that had been rotted by Dorothy’s evil collective consciousness and now me, Fred, Rambo Lion A.K.A. Gwen’s not so hot lawyer are about to become monkey chow.
Wait a minute. No, really wait a minute. Freeze the frame.
That’s it, leave those monkeys and their flapping little wings suspended in the air.
Stark needs a little second to clear his head and think. What Stark really needs is a shot of Glenlivet, and maybe a powdered doughnut or two, ah but you pays your money and you takes your choice.
Why the heck did I just say that?
Never mind. Back to becoming a monkey’s soup de jour.
