The Thrilling-ish Conclusion!
International Falls, Minnesota
The border crossing wasn't one of the better protected entries to Canada. A determined malefactor in a powerful sport utility vehicle might rush across the American and Canadian checkpoints at either end of the bridge that straddled the Rainy River. But why? To violate the serenity of the fictional home of Rocky and Bullwinkle? To disrupt the work of the massive Boise Cascade plants that turned the mighty North American forests into pulp and paper? To wake up sleepy Fort Frances, where, on a quiet, summer Sunday evening, Ignorant Man drove in his 1982 Ford Escort from street to street, searching for a an open bar. One that might sell him a Molson beer.
You are supposed to drink a Molson upon arriving in Canada, he thought to himself.
But he saw no open bars before him.
Curious, he checked his rearview mirror. No bars either, but he noted that a man on a motorcycle followed him. And, he recalled, this man had been following him for some time.
Very curious, thought Ignorant Man, and nodded to himself. Idly, he scratched his belly.
He turned right, onto a residential street. The motorcycle followed. The man's helmet, he noted, covered his whole head. His leathers were black and red.
He took his car on a left turn, and checked the mirror the instant his turn was complete.
The motorcycle...and the man...followed. Ignorant Man smiled. He bounced like a four-year-old in his seat. He parked the car by the curb and checked to be sure his cape was secure, and then got out of the car...quickly and dramatically, with a swish of his cape, which then fell to the pavement in a heap. Tying it back on in a more secure fashion, Ignorant Man turned to face the man on the motorcycle, who had parked a good two car lengths behind him and was striding purposefully toward him. The man removed his helmet.
Ignorant Man tilted his head to the side, quizzically.
The man's face was clearly green and decidedly scaly. His nose was elongated -- more of a snout really -- and trailed wisps of smoke. His eyes were a deep, beyond-bloodshot red.
"You're Dragon Bob," Ignorant Man said, unnecessarily.
The man, Dragon Bob, nodded.
"You're supposed to be in Montreal."
Dragon Bob nodded again. Ignorant Man had now exhausted his knowledge of this situation.
"Why did you want me here? Why did you send Billy Joe Bob-san after me?"
"You forget the most crucial question," Dragon Bob said in a deep, throaty hiss.
"Ahh...How much cash do you need?"
"Exactly."
Ignorant Man was puzzled.
"I need $100,000. In cash. By tomorrow night."
"I don't have $100,000 in cash. Nor can I get that money by tomorrow night."
"That is unfortunate."
"Why?"
"Why?" asked Dragon Bob.
"Yes...why?"
"Because," said Dragon Bob, leaning closer, his voice almost a whisper, "if you do not, I will lay waste to this entire town and everyone in it. He took a deep breath, turned toward Ignorant Man's 1982 Ford Escort and breathed a blast of fire across the car. Ignorant Man could see the vinyl seats melting just before the engine exploded, popping off the hood and sending it clattering just behind him on the sidewalk.
Ignorant Man remained calm.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I can!" shouted Dragon Bob. "I am born of human woman and the last living dragon! I command fire and rule men's minds! I fly on reptile wings and rend with fang and claw! I am power!" And Dragon Bob ripped off his leather jacket and unfurled a pair of great, green, scaly wings. And he looked to the sky and roared, jets of fire spurting out of his mouth.
"Yes, okay," said Ignorant Man. "But...why?"
"Questions! I was warned about your questions. Your questions never have answers, do they? I...I have answers!"
"Oh, good!" Ignorant Man said.
"First," Dragon Bob began to tick off reasons on his scaly claws. "I am going to build a secret sanctuary, in the wilderness. Then, through means both scientific and...er... traditional...I will create an army of beings like myself. More advanced, more powerful than mere humans. Next, the army of my children will fan out across North America. They will take jobs from humans, they will gain seats in city councils, work their way up the political hierarchy and, perhaps winning a governorship or two, and the odd congressional seat until, inexorably, over time, we will take over the United States...and later, the world!"
"Hmm, yes, okay...but why?"
"Why? Why what?"
"Why take over the world?"
"Why not?"
"Yes, but why?"
"The world needs taking over. It's a mess. It's chaotic. We shall rule with an iron fist, under the appropriate constitutional guidelines, of course. There will be order. There will be sanity."
Ignorant Man nodded. Unknowingly. "I see that yes, but I have another question."
"Yes?"
"Why?" and Ignorant Man's power was such that Dragon Bob was compelled to answer.
"Well...you know, that is a good question." Dragon Bob began to pace across the sidewalk, back and forth, venturing now and again into the street. "It does seem like an awful lot of trouble, doesn't it? And it will take quite awhile. My children will seem quite freakish at first, and so our campaigns will require a great deal of cash. Which means we'll be fund raising all the time. I hate all that glad-handing and small-talk...that 'hi-howya-doin' and the speeches and the chicken dinners. And the taxes! You take over the world and they'll get you, won't they? Dang-it, they will!"
Foundering in the depths of despair, Dragon Bob stood in the middle of the street and roared, and as jets of fire lit up the night sky over Fort Frances, a horn blared and an engine rumbled, overpowering the dragon's roar.
* * *
"Eugene, did you see that?"
"Nah, George. I was sleeping. What was it, eh?"
"Funny looking guy in the street. All on fire. Looked like something out of a circus."
"No kiddin', eh?"
"I think we hit it. Should I stop, then?"
"Nah."
"Oh good."
"I did hear a bit of a bump though, eh?"
"You know, just because we're in Canada, doesn't mean you have to say 'eh' after every sentence..."
"Eh?"
The semi truck and trailer roared on toward the Minnesota border.
* * *
A bruised and battered Dragon Bob dragged himself onto the sidewalk.
"What are you going to do now?" Ignorant Man asked.
"I don't know," Dragon Bob said. "Maybe open up a little gift shop. Or a B&B. 'Dragon Bob's Inn' -- I like the sound of that."
Ignorant Man opened his mouth to ask a question, thought better of it, and wrote Dragon Bob a check for $5,000. "Good luck," he said.
Dragon Bob smiled his dragon smile. It looked evil without even trying. "Why, with this I could create a labora-...Thank you, Ignorant Man."
"No, thank you."
Dragon Bob whistled, and a furry, stripled creature with sharp claws and teeth ambled down the street. It stopped next to Ignorant Man, hissed and jabbed a bite at Ignorant Man's booth, sinking its teeth into the thick leather. Frustrated, it shook its head, and let go. Ignorant Man stuck out his tongue at it, and leaned closer...then stopped.
"Is this a badger?" he asked.
"Why yes."
"Thank you." Ignorant Man watched the badger and Dragon Bob walk off into the sunrise.
He sat down by his still burning car.
"I wonder how I'll get home," he said aloud, but like so many of his questions, it was left unanswered.
# # #
SO, HE DIDN'T LICK THE BADGER...OR GO TO MONTREAL.
DOES THE AUTHOR EVEN READ HIS STORIES FROM ONE EPISODE TO THE NEXT?
WILL HE EVER GET BACK TO WORK?
OH, AND I LIKE ERIC BURN'S IGNORANT MAN A LOT.
THAT'S ALL FOR NOW... HOPE YOU LIKED IT...
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