The Destruction of Kansas City

I met Herr Vogler and the mythical pikey for lunch at Buffalo Wild Wings. I can finally attest that the pikey does indeed exist. But this was too much for the world to handle. All of us at the same table, rather than separated by blogspace? The only thing missing was the fourth horseman, the illustrious Captain. Now that I know the pikey better, this blog’s comments are in even greater danger of escalation. If that’s possible.

As I walked up to the door where they stood waiting, the earth gave a great and terrible tremble, and the sky became a dark yellow. The wind died and all was still, yet a mighty thunderclap echoed across the valleys and hills as we shook hands. The heavens opened up and seven trumpets sounded, and I saw the Beast make war on the rider of the white horse and his army.

We chilled for three hours, talking about everything from master classes to the upcoming Terminator Salvation trilogy. Talking for three hours… that’s pretty much all we grown-ups can handle anymore. We had some good ones, though. Even an honest-to-goodness spit take. It’s true. Those things really do happen in real life.

We had to leave when a chasm opened up and swallowed Best Buy whole. We barely escaped with our lives, speeding just ahead of the shockwave that spread out across the city. David Arnold’s score was mixed really loudly, too. I can’t imagine what would have happened had the Captain been there as well. Too much presence… we upset the delicate balance of the world… and I can still hear Kefka’s laughter.