Outside the walls of Limburger where the four Stubbies had earlier appeared on the path to the main road, a man stood outside of an old beater of an electric golf cart. His long greasy hair hung down to the shoulders of his 5 foot, 5 inch frame, and his scraggly week-old beard somewhat obscured his weather-beaten wrinkled face. Wearing a badly worn newsboy cap and a tattered plaid jogging suit, he fumbled through the basket on the back of his golf cart and pulled out a crude drawing resembling the foot of a Sasquatch.
The man stared down and inspected some inky footprints in the dirt. “Aha,” he thought. “I knew I was right. Bigfoot is indeed in the area and there are more than one. There seems to be a whole family. I'd better warn the good townsfolk right away!”
He hopped into the golf cart and drove up to the Limburger gate. It wobbled as he slammed his fist upon it shouting, “Open this gate now in the name of Error-Prone son of Error-Throwing, rightful heir to the Kingdoms Out Yonder!”
Once again the old gatekeeper walked slowly to the portal and opened up the little window. Peering out he recognized the bellicose man and said, “I know you and you're no king. You're Jogger the ranger, and your kind is not allowed in Limburger!”
“Listen, old man,” implored Jogger, “If you don't let me in, the carnage to come will be on your hands. Danger is here. Bigfoots have arrived and I've tracked them to this very gate. How could you let them in ... and why am I not allowed in Limburger? The sign says nothing about rangers, just Stubbies.”
The gatekeeper reached out through the window and turned the sign over. He pointed to the word VAGRANT and said, “Vagrant, a perfect description of you and your ranger ilk. Don't come in here and start sleeping on our benches and begging for scraps. We don't need anyone telling us what we can or cannot do on the links or claiming to save the world for us. You make me laugh - by day you are Jogger the ranger, on a power trip reading the riot act to golfers who can't keep pace or accidentally drive their cart too close to the green. By night you are the super-hero Error-Prone, heir to the Kingdoms Out Yonder, saving all from the forces of evil. Give me a break! When you've finally caught a villain that's not wearing a collared polo shirt I'll let you inside!”
Jogger realized that arguing with the gatekeeper was fruitless and he couldn't dawdle while the town was in peril. He hopped into his golf cart, pressed the accelerator to the floor, and aimed straight for the Limburger gate. The cart raced forward, reaching the speed of five MPH as it slammed into the portal, tearing the rotted wood from its hinges. The gate crashed down upon the old man as Jogger rode over it on his way to rescue Limburger.
With his keen tracking skills the ranger was easily able to follow the path of the Stubbies to the Overburdened Pony. Jogger stopped the cart outside the door and looked through the window. The inn was alive with music, dancing and drinking. “They're oblivious,” thought Jogger, “its the only way the bigfoots could have entered without notice. The mayhem and carnage will be unimaginable.” Jogger went back to the cart and began to visualize a plan of action. Now, with a clear idea of his strategy ingrained in his mind, Jogger took in a deep breath and put his plan into motion.
Copyright 2012, John Keefe
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