Drinking Beer with Fate

I’m painfully bored and I decide to watch the news.

Not a big deal, really, because I had been staring at the television all day anyway. Of course, this time it was turned on. So here before me are anchorpersons Donald O’Brien and Irene Spencer, dishing out the local goods on the car dealer who scammed an old lady, the cop who ran over a little kid, and the farmer who shot a trespassing gypsy woman. It all started to make me sick. Couldn’t these criminals at least try to be a little more interesting?

That’s when I decided to don the bunny outfit. The world would now know me only as "COMMODORE CARROT, SINISTER MASTERMIND AND RULER OF THE WORLD!"

I felt it would be smart to start out small...rob a few liquor stores to raise money, then hire henchmen and built a secret laser or global time bomb. Rabbit suit on, I headed on down to Joe Tweed’s Slick Liquors to begin my way down the side street to financial gain and power. I’ve hated Joe Tweed since high school anyway.

It took me a few minutes to muster up the brass to just tango on in there and rob the place. However, those few minutes passed and soon I found myself pointing a gun at…..well, not Joe Tweed. This guy wasn’t as fat as I remember Joe Tweed being. I also don’t remember Joe Tweed being Chinese.

"Okay, Bub, you know the drill," I said, waving my loaded firearm in the face of the Chinese man behind the counter.

Page One Page Two