Within the last minute I had broken into the biggest vault that I had ever encountered with the largest bundle of dynamite that I had ever used. I peeled off my fluorescent pink industrial strength impact resistant suit while waiting for the dust and debris to settle. When the air finally cleared, I saw it. Another door. I was not expecting another door. I was devastated. How was I going to get to Marvin?
I had used up all of my rationed equipment—including the dynamite, the machine gun, and the yak scat--to get through triple security doors, safes, vaults, and a multitude of other barriers. The scat came in handy when I ran into that band of rabid dogs. Worked like magic, but the stuff stinks to high heaven.
But this extra door wasn’t in the plans! And it has a lock on it. Maybe if I just give it a good strong push…nope. A little more force…nope!
I jiggle the doorknob and a computerized male voice speaks. “One minute until self-destruct….one minute until self-destruct. Countdown begins now.”
This is the moment of truth. I’ll rise to the occasion, or I’ll fall. If I fail at least I will fall with all of the other brave souls who had encountered similar challenges. And it will not be in vain.
I take a deep breath.
“60, 59, 58…”
OK. I’ve jiggled the doorknob at least twice. It’s not working. I run my hands through my hair…hmmm. Bobbypin! Of course! Why didn’t I think of it before? We’re in business now!
“50, 49, 48…”
Why won’t the little pins click? I’d done this before at least a dozen times and it was never a problem. I could even sing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” backwards while blinking my eyes in morse code. Must be the stress. Must stay calm. Woosah…
“40, 39, 38…”
Oh great, the light bulb burnt out. I guess I don’t really need to see anyway. These kinds of things should be done on touch alone. Pins are clicking…we’re making progress. I’m coming, Marvin! I wish I could mute the countdown, that voice is so annoying. I’m awfully hungry too.
“30, 29, 28…”
Eew..something just dripped on my head. I’m also sweating profusely. It’s pouring down my face, stinging my eyes. Something's sqeaking. Oh, I know what hit me in the head. There are bats in here. "Thanks a lot guys!" What I wouldn’t give for a big piece of dynamite right now. This last pin…it won’t budge!
“20, 19, 18…”
“I’m sorry, Marvin, so sorry. I failed. I want to pray, but I’m so choked up, I just can’t find the words. I wish I could talk to you, say comforting things to you, but you’re behind that door. The world seems darker…but wait!
“10, 9, 8…”
A sudden burst of light! I’m glad that flock of bats flew away, I didn’t realize there was a window in here. And now the last pin clicks open and I throw open the door. And behold…the Marvin.
It’s the most perfect specimen in the world—onions, peppers, olives, sausage, hamburger, pepperoni, secret sauce, lots of lots of cheese…and yes, even a few anchovies. It was all worth it…well, mostly worth it. I am satisfied. And after a brief grace before my meal, Marvin will be delivered tasty bit by tasty bit straight into my growling stomach. All in a day’s work.