Recap
Augustus burst outside, bloody dagger in one hand, vile of blood in the other. The cold night air gave him strength. He broke out into a sprint, his cloak barely staying on his body. When he reached the place where he had parked his Daewoo, he got confused. "Where am I? I'm so confused."
The ale had been infused with some sort of potion. His memory was fading. But he would continue on his quest. For it was his destiny to find, the Talisman.
* * *
Augustus, having spent nearly 3 hours pondering his options at Starbucks, left the coffee shop carrying 12 gallons of mocha and a shot of raspberry. He would need it for his quest, and to bribe the villagers. He secured it on the floor of his Daewoo, and started the car. Life would be hard living on the road. He got lost in thought, and nearly crashed into a Presidential motorcade.
Secret Service agents swarmed the car, but when they saw the mocha, they froze. They knew he was not a man to be trifled with. They left him alone and he continued on his way. Augustus was getting sick of all these damn Presidential motorcades. Ever since people started declaring their houses sovereign nations those things were everywhere, not to mention Royal and Imperial motorcades.
* * *
Augustus awoke with a missing finger. That is, he woke up with one finger missing. He did not wake up with a missing finger the way you wake up with a headache. No, instead of gaining a physical ailment he had lost a finger. A monsoon of confusion flooded his mind. Where could his finger be? It’s not like it was detachable. He was bothered by the idea that he could go to sleep perfectly fine and wake up with a finger missing. What would happen the next time he went to sleep? Would he wake up with a missing hand? Or even a missing head? He quickly reached the realization that he probably would not wake up with a missing head, and even if he did he would probably think his body was missing and not the other way around.
Augustus got out of bed and got dressed. All the days before this one were a blur. He put on his black pinstriped suit and grabbed his violin case. Walking into the bathroom, Augustus grabbed an eyebrow pencil and drew a very thin mustache above his lip. Today was Thursday and he needed to look normal.
* * *
Boris drove down the one lane road. He finally came up to the 4-way stop sign. He made a full and complete stop. He waved on the man to his right. He waved on the woman in front of him who was turning left. A car pulled up behind Boris and he smiled. He stayed at the stop sign for a few more seconds. He didn't go anywhere. He stayed for several more seconds and the car behind him honked what can only be described as a polite honk. Then another car pulled up to his right, and Boris waved it on. He smiled again. The car behind him honked again, less politely this time. Boris raised his hand as if apologizing to the person behind him, who was getting annoyed as was shown by the third and lengthy honk Boris was given when he didn't move after raising his hand. He raised his hand again and lifted his foot off the brake. He let the car move roughly 11 inches before slamming on the brakes again and jerking it to a stop. This time the car behind him didn’t stop honking. Boris sat in his car for seven more seconds and then rolled away. He smiled to himself. He loved Be Evil Thursdays.
* * *
Augustus had tracked the Talisman down to one of three places: the Hard Rock Café in Los Angeles, California, the Waldorf Astoria in New York City, or somewhere in Secaucus, New Jersey. Not having been to any of these places he went to Jersey first because he thought it seemed like the most democratic thing to do.
* * *
The cell phone rang. “Hello?” Boris said.
“Boris, it’s Augustus.”
“Oh. Hello, Augustus.” Neither of them spoke for a moment. They recalled the last time they had seen each other. It was also the last time they had seen Richard. Richard, the would-be priest who had turned on them; the one who had killed their comrades-in-arms, Richard who had disappeared with the Talisman and never been heard from again. The silence stabbed at them until Boris finally broke it. “Why the hell are you calling me after all this time?!”
“Boris I...I think I know where Richard is.”
The ale had been infused with some sort of potion. His memory was fading. But he would continue on his quest. For it was his destiny to find, the Talisman.
* * *
Augustus, having spent nearly 3 hours pondering his options at Starbucks, left the coffee shop carrying 12 gallons of mocha and a shot of raspberry. He would need it for his quest, and to bribe the villagers. He secured it on the floor of his Daewoo, and started the car. Life would be hard living on the road. He got lost in thought, and nearly crashed into a Presidential motorcade.
Secret Service agents swarmed the car, but when they saw the mocha, they froze. They knew he was not a man to be trifled with. They left him alone and he continued on his way. Augustus was getting sick of all these damn Presidential motorcades. Ever since people started declaring their houses sovereign nations those things were everywhere, not to mention Royal and Imperial motorcades.
* * *
Augustus awoke with a missing finger. That is, he woke up with one finger missing. He did not wake up with a missing finger the way you wake up with a headache. No, instead of gaining a physical ailment he had lost a finger. A monsoon of confusion flooded his mind. Where could his finger be? It’s not like it was detachable. He was bothered by the idea that he could go to sleep perfectly fine and wake up with a finger missing. What would happen the next time he went to sleep? Would he wake up with a missing hand? Or even a missing head? He quickly reached the realization that he probably would not wake up with a missing head, and even if he did he would probably think his body was missing and not the other way around.
Augustus got out of bed and got dressed. All the days before this one were a blur. He put on his black pinstriped suit and grabbed his violin case. Walking into the bathroom, Augustus grabbed an eyebrow pencil and drew a very thin mustache above his lip. Today was Thursday and he needed to look normal.
* * *
Boris drove down the one lane road. He finally came up to the 4-way stop sign. He made a full and complete stop. He waved on the man to his right. He waved on the woman in front of him who was turning left. A car pulled up behind Boris and he smiled. He stayed at the stop sign for a few more seconds. He didn't go anywhere. He stayed for several more seconds and the car behind him honked what can only be described as a polite honk. Then another car pulled up to his right, and Boris waved it on. He smiled again. The car behind him honked again, less politely this time. Boris raised his hand as if apologizing to the person behind him, who was getting annoyed as was shown by the third and lengthy honk Boris was given when he didn't move after raising his hand. He raised his hand again and lifted his foot off the brake. He let the car move roughly 11 inches before slamming on the brakes again and jerking it to a stop. This time the car behind him didn’t stop honking. Boris sat in his car for seven more seconds and then rolled away. He smiled to himself. He loved Be Evil Thursdays.
* * *
Augustus had tracked the Talisman down to one of three places: the Hard Rock Café in Los Angeles, California, the Waldorf Astoria in New York City, or somewhere in Secaucus, New Jersey. Not having been to any of these places he went to Jersey first because he thought it seemed like the most democratic thing to do.
* * *
The cell phone rang. “Hello?” Boris said.
“Boris, it’s Augustus.”
“Oh. Hello, Augustus.” Neither of them spoke for a moment. They recalled the last time they had seen each other. It was also the last time they had seen Richard. Richard, the would-be priest who had turned on them; the one who had killed their comrades-in-arms, Richard who had disappeared with the Talisman and never been heard from again. The silence stabbed at them until Boris finally broke it. “Why the hell are you calling me after all this time?!”
“Boris I...I think I know where Richard is.”