If A Guy Calls Himself ‘Count Weirdly,’ Then His Career Options Are Limited.
Every town has at least one, it seems. A leftover hippie that lines his living room with aluminum to keep out the CIA mind scanners. A guy that stands on the street corner for an hour and a half and then bursts into tears for no reason. A girl who wanders up to complete strangers and gives them pieces of trash she picked up wrapped up like birthday presents. A drunk who dresses like Santa all year. You know.
Ours is a little more trouble than most.
I think he thinks he’s a comic book supervillain, you know, from back in the fifties when the things were completely insane. He usually tries to attack something with a comically grotesque machine of some kind, saying he’s going to ‘take over he world.’ Or else he just shouts obscenities at the DMV until someone shows up to take him back to the loony bin. I kinda feel sorry for the guy. Or I used to. Before he tried to turn me into an eggplant.
Once I have turn’d myself invisible, I shall return to institute with PROOF! PROOF that it is THEY who are ma! MAD! For not seeing the potential behind my grandest experiment! he shouts at us. As well as he can from inside a jar.
“Is that so?” I smile at him. That usually calms him down.
YES! Well, so it hasn’t worked yet. Be patient. For this machine renders all living tissue invisible! Once I have flipp’d this lever, I will remove my clothes and be undetectable!
Sly! Stop him! Dere’s gonna be a naked crazy guy!
“Calm down, Max. Wait, what’s this yellow stuff?”
“Behind your head! It’s… exactly the same color as you, frankly.”
Oh, dat’s a cheese.
I blink. “A cheese?”
For lunch! Duh!
“Why are you keeping it on the back of your neck?!”
Ta protect it from the crazy goonythings dis guy keeps!
HEY! Doesn’t anyone care that I’m enacting my villainy?!
I turn back to the nut, ready to give him some line about I can only deal with one nut at a time, so wait his turn, but I notice he’s looking a little pale all of a sudden. And a little blue.
I don’t think he put any airholes on there.
I grab the cheese an chuck it at the glass, almost before I know what’s going on. Yeah, I know, but it worked. The nut is barely conscious, so Max and I have to carry him out before we call someone from the loony bin to come get him. Poor guy. He’s probably convinced that I, dunno, only barely stopped him from ruling the world.
And I don’t care if that makes him feel good. I don’t want to have to deal with it.
Max is still whining about his lunch.
“Here, look at it this way,” I say while were heading back to the station, “That thing was solid enough to shatter a giant glass jar and save a man’s life.”
“So it probably wouldn’t have been good for you.”