Sunday, January 19, 2014

Death, Be Not Proud - "The Golden Parachute" Continues!

Here are Week 52 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

Who are these guys? I'd better get ready. Before I can untie my necktie David steps up, pumping a shotgun. "Where did you find that?" I ask.

"I always keep it under my seat." he says. "Put that away before you hurt somebody. I've got this." I take out my phone and load my gun app.

"Your gun app won't work on these guys." "Why not? It NEVER fails. I text 'BANG' to their cell phones. They stop to read it. Foolproof."

"Look carefully. They don't have cell phones." "Oh. We'll have to do it the old-fashioned way." I quickly dial a number and enter a command.

Weapons raised, they close in. I remove my jacket. Then a car approaches, screeches to a halt. A sign on the car door reads "Western Union."

A messenger jumps out of the car and dashes up to the head guard. "Are you in charge here?" "Yes I am." "Sign here." He hands him a message.

Regi whispers "I didn't know Western Union still delivers telegrams." "They don't." The head guard opens the message. It reads "BANG! Stop."

I say to the other guards. "Do I need to telegraph my intentions to you too?" They lower their weapons. The head guard says "What the f*%k?"

He turns to his men. "What are you doing?" "He's got telegrams" one replies. The head guard aims at me. "Deliver the cadaver or become one."

David aims his shotgun at the guard. "If he goes down you go too." I'm in the middle. Whoever fires first, I get some lead. "Don't help me."

"Say the word Boss." It's a standoff. The other guards re-raise their rifles. Regi edges out of the line of fire. I'd like to do the same.

Regi says "Stop! I am Willum Granger’s heir, just back from the islands!" "Caribbean or Virgin?" "Let's just say I came back a Caribbean."

"And you are with this...detective?" "He is working on my behalves." The guards take aim. Regi says "That didn't work." "Thanks for trying."

The head guard says "We'll do this old school." "That's good to hear." "Ready!" "What?" They slide their rifle bolts. "Aim!" "Wait!" "Fire!"

To a man with a gun everyone looks like a target. Time slows. Even so, I don't have time to look less target-like or to finish tweeting this

The rest is silence. A dark pool opens at my feet and I jump in, eyes wide shut. The pool has no bottom which means I soon will reach China.

?? I should open my eyes. I'm either dead or my watch has stopped. Death is not what I expected. First of all I'm still really hot…uh oh.

I remember a loud boom, a sharp blow and then nothing. Seems I'm still tweeting, way down here. One thing's certain: I'll stay with Verizon.

I experience the ineffable. No more mysteries. I'm done collecting clues, collaring culprits, confronting cons. I'm perfectly at peace.

This transpires when you expire. You Rest in Peace. I thought it was just a slogan like "The Medium is the Message." You live and you learn!

Pull yourself together Arkaby! You're not the first person to die and you won't be the last. You've gotten out of tougher fixes than this!

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

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