It's a Minty, Minty, Minty World Once Again! Or, How I Discovered That There are Still Superheroes Among Us

Alright, alright... I know I said this was a four part story, but what can I say? Plans change.

Deal. The story will be concluded soon (possibly tomorrow). For now, this will have to do...

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Yes. I did this to myself... It was all a result of hubris. I underestimated the devious character of Monsieur Redneck and I paid the price.

Now it was time to pick up the pieces as best I could, so that I could live to fight the forces of darkness, entropy and standardized testing another day.

So I pulled myself together and did a mental once-over... My hands were bound behind me. The ropes chafed, but they weren't cutting off the circulation to my hands. My head pounded as though I were being hit in the head with a small, golden hammer. My feet were numb, the ropes there having been tied much tighter.

Still, the biggest problem facing me, was, quite literally, facing me.

Damn I hate spiders.

Yes, I'm a Buddhist.

Yes, I go out of my way not to kill them anymore.

That doesn't change the fact that their hairy, icky, bloated bodies and their evil eyes fill me with "a nameless dread," as the saying goes.

Task number one: Escape the spider.

After that, all other tasks would seem as enjoyable as that first cold, sweet spoonful of mint chocolate heaven.

Concentrating violently, I strove to ignore the pain in my head. Yes, I accepted that it was a pain I actually deserved in recompense for my stupidity of the previous day. Still, it was hard to ignore. I pushed past it and pictured the blood flowing back into my poor feet. After what seemed like forever, I started to feel that painful tickle that means circulation has been restored (Mother of Carlos, I love the power of my mind).

As soon as this occurred, I slowly moved my legs forward until they were touching the wall, and with a considerable amount of heavy breathing, pushed myself as far away from the wall and the dreadful arachnid as I was capable of maneuvering. Granted, it wasn't a perfect plan, but the farther I was away from that beast's baleful stare, the more clearly I would be able to think.

After what seemed like an eternity in a dentist's waiting room, but was in reality probably only 10 minutes or so, I felt that I was relatively safe. Yes, the horrible thing was still on the wall, but I could see him and I figured he wasn't close enough to leap off, land on my face and bite me on the eyeball... So I began to work loose the bonds on my wrists. I wasn't having much luck when I heard approaching footsteps on the ground outside the shed.

I stilled immediately, slumping as bonelessly as I could to the floor of my hovel. I hoped that when my captor came in I could successfully pretend to be asleep.

For the first time in what feels like a hell of a long stretch, luck was with me.

The door creaked open and one of Monsieur Redneck's two sheep-faced companions entered, carrying something. The something reeked like 3 day old sushi, and Sheep Boy #1 didn't smell a whole lot better. Even though my stomach was desperate for sustenance, it did a rolling leap through a spinning black hole at the smell now filling the cabin.

Sheep-Boy#1 took a quick step in my direction, leaned forward to examine me (presumably for signs of life), and then set down the bucket he carried with a thump. There was a second thump as something smaller hit the floor, probably a spoon.

Then, for about a minute, he just stood next to me. He didn't move. He didn't say anything.

I couldn't even hear him breathe. (Which was a miracle, because I'd identified him just the previous day as a definite mouth-breather).

Then, suddenly, as though he'd finally come to a decision about something and wasn't going to waste any more time, he got down on one knee and pulled on my shoulder to roll me over on to my face. I felt him pull my arms up, almost out of their sockets, and with a quick jerk (presumably from a knife) my hands were free falling to the floor.

Getting up to his feet with a small grunt, he walked out of the hut and closed the door. I heard a metallic sound that must have been a padlock snapping shut and then his receding footsteps. I strained to hear anything else, but all I could hear was the muffled sound of birds and the drone of a twin engine plane taking off from somewhere. This last was good news, as it meant that I was probably in Deering, relatively close to home.

I slowly stretched, checking to make sure that all parts were operating to regulation specifications, and then pushed myself up from the floor and onto my knees. I checked the bindings on my ankles and discovered that they were some kind of fancy looking plastic doohickey's that could be tricky to get out of... still, I could move my arms, so there was hope on the horizon...

It was then that I finally realized...

I was not alone in my little hovel.

There was a cat.

As I watched in surprise, it sauntered over to the bucket of fish slop, sniffed, sneezed, reached up to smooth a whisker that had gone astray, looked up at me, winked one eye shut, and turned pink. Yeah, I said it.

Actually, pink isn't really a good enough word to describe this cat's day-glo color. She was so brightly pink she seemed to burn with cold, neon fire.

She was so pink, they need to make up a new word for pink.

Squeezing both eyes shut, she made a face that is as close as any cat ever comes to a smile, and said, "I brought some help. Seymour sensed something was wrong. He's bringing some friends... There's more going on here than you think. See ya, Sensei."

So saying, she made a leap for the one window in the shed, shedding her cat form as she went and becoming a bright orange butterfly. She landed once on the sill, flapped her wings, and sailed off into the October day like a lively maple leaf.

Hope had arrived... and her name was Lizzard.