Episode 066

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Knight on the Town

 

 

Richard Lorenz

Age – 31

Current Occupation – Software Designer, Poet

Age sworn to the Oath of Chivalry – 19

Designation – Knight-Errant

Weapon of Choice – Rosenberg Rapier

 

 

            Roland stared in the mirror with a debonair gaze, his left eyebrow up, his lips slightly pursed.  In a silk white shirt underneath a fashionably archaic blue vest, he struck an eye-catching pose; an intense, smoldering gaze staring back at him.

            In the corner of the floor-length mirror, Ledger’s reflection watched with disgust.  “Man, where the hell do you think we’re going?  The 16th Century?”

            “I’m in a goth chic mood,” Roland answered, turning a bit, watching the way his vest moved.  In dark blue slacks, he smelled of a fusion of orange peel and ginger.  “I think the vest’ll trump any Hot Topic wannabe and impress the ladies.”

            Ledger turned away, sitting on the couch in his blue urban jacket.  “Man, that is the last time I let you borrow my Vampire the Masquerade books.”  Around Ledger’s sparse apartment, traps were evident everywhere.  Over the window next to the door, a cement-filled PVC pipe hung from ropes, carefully secured over the window.  Out from the pipe, nails punctured out in all directions, prepared to drop down into anyone who entered through the window.  Next to the door, a metal bar hung against the wall, unsecured.  At the end of the bar was a roll of nails, while the line of thin steel twine was ready to be looped around the handle.  If set, the bar would swing out against anyone who opened the door unexpectedly.

            The couch Ledger sat on faced the whole apartment, two end-tables to either side.  A coffee table which looked uncomfortably close to dripped wax sat in front of the couch, while the kitchenette in the corner was sparkling clean.  Two doors on the opposite wall were closed, while the front door was secured with additional locks, the least of which was an iron barricade just over the handle.

            There was a knock.

            Ledger was up in a flash, his sawed-off shotgun ready in his hand.  He looked cautiously to Roland, then silently approached the door.  “Dude, it’s Armand,” Roland explained with an exhausted tired, not looking away from the mirror.

Ignoring Roland, Ledger approached the door and peered through the peephole.  Standing under the light outside, Armand waited at the door, dressed up for the evening.  “Lucky guess,” Ledger grumbled as he began unlocking the door.

“No it wasn’t, you called him,” Roland argued as the front door was opened.

“I bring offerings of the Arby’s variety,” Armand said as he held out a bag of sandwiches.

Ledger snatched the bag out of his hand.  “Your apology’s accepted.”

“Apology?!” Armand exclaimed.  “What the hell have I got to apologize for?”

“Don’t know; think of something,” Ledger said as he began to scarf down the first sandwich.

Armand watched the black knight eat and looked at Roland.  “You look good, for a count from the eastern province of…”

“Stop,” Roland said with strained patience, holding his hand up.  “Save it.”

“You guys are no fun,” Armand muttered, getting out a sandwich from the bag Ledger held.  In a light blue shirt with white pants, the honey-skinned knight held his black trench coat over his arm.  “So who else is coming?  Everett bailed; big surprise.  I imagine Edgar’s not joining us.”

“Your imagination would be right.  Melissa won’t let him come out to play,” Roland said, testing the look of the top button of his shirt being unbuttoned.  “Something about him owing her movie night or something.”

“Did you talk to him or her?” Ledger asked, swallowing a mouthful.  “I only ask because if you asked him, then we might talk him out of it.  If you talked to her, then it’s a done deal.”

“Her,” Roland confirmed.  Ledger shrugged in acceptance, holding out the bag for Armand to get a second sandwich.  “Anyway, Sydney said yes.  She should be here pretty soon.”

“Cool,” Armand said, flopping down on the couch.  “Man, I need to unwind.  All this crap about red knights and blue knights and the Crimson Rose.  It’ll be nice to just get out and have some fun, you know.”

“I still say we blow the club and go raise some hell,” Ledger maintained.  “We could chase a bread truck around town like we did that one time.”  Roland started giggling childishly, but said nothing.

“What was this?” Armand asked, amused.

“Me, Ev, and Roland decide we want to go raise some hell, right?” Ledger started, stepping into the middle of the room.  “This was about a year or two before you moved down here.  So we go out, right, and we can’t find anything to do.  The roller rink’s open and stuff, but we’re too young to get into any of the clubs and it’s just dead, you know?  So we go to the doughnut shop on the edge of town and get some doughnuts.”

“Only we didn’t have any money,” Roland interjected.

“Only we didn’t have any money,” Ledger concurred, “so we can only get one doughnut because Ev found a quarter in the parking lot and the doughnuts’re twenty-four cents with tax.”

“So we tipped the waitress a penny,” Roland tossed in giggling.

“So then, we load up into Roland’s rusty-ass pick-up,” Ledger said, smiling broadly, “and we just go out driving, right?  And we come up on this bread truck.  And it’s, like, four am or something.  So, because we’re hopped up on sugar from the doughnut or the late night, whatever, we decide to follow it.  And the thing clearly starts to get skittish about us, because it starts making these crazy turns and getting over into the left-hand lane and turning right and stuff.  The city’s dead because it’s so late, or early.  But this guy is just straight-up trying to lose us.  And Roland just keeps on with this guy.  Finally, this guy starts running red lights and stuff, speeding like there’s no tomorrow, and we just keep on.”

“Oh my god,” Armand laughed.  “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah, but it was funny,” Ledger laughed.

“At least it was at the time,” Roland said, turning around.  He pulled his black trench coat on, letting the bottom swirl around his knees like a magical mist.  “So whenever you hear me or Ledger talk about raising some hell; worry.”

“Like I don’t already?” Armand said, tossing a sandwich to Roland.  He thought for a moment, looking around Ledger’s apartment.  “Every time I come in here, man, I get scared I’m going to set off one of your booby traps.”

“Nah, they’re not hair trigger or anything,” Ledger said, sitting down next to him as Roland went back to the mirror, studying how eye-catching he could look while eating.  “I just want anyone who decides they want to break into my place to leave knowing it was the worst mistake they ever made.”

“Have you ever been broken into?” Armand asked.

“Dude, that’s not the point,” Ledger defended just before there was a knock at the door.  He got up from the couch and stepped over the coffee table to the door.  He looked through the peep hole, seeing only darkness.  “Someone’s covering the hole,” he said with a paranoid tone as he took out his gun.

“Dude, it’s Sydney,” Roland snapped.  “Open the damn door.”

Ledger grumbled under his breath as he undid the locks, pulling the door open.  Before the three knights, the blonde dame stood in a short silver dress that stopped halfway down to her knees.  With a high neck, a hole was cut in the front that showed off her navel all the way up to the bottom of her breasts.  Wrapped in a blue shawl, she smiled at the boys.  “Ready?” she asked in a coy tone.

 
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