The Quest

A voice came down from on high, saying in a loud and stern tone, "Thou hast displeased me, thou toad-like and surly husband, and there will be a reckoning! If thou should wish to be in my presence once again, thou must undertake a quest. Nothing less will bring my forebearance and prevent thy doom."

"What did I do now?" I whined. It was undoubtedly something I did, something I didn't do, or something I did poorly.

"Doest thou claim to not know the cause of my wrath?" the voice thundered. "How can you be so dumb?"

Sometimes I do play dumb. It's easier than trying to explain what I did, didn't, etc., and it avoids providing inadvertent clues to any misdeeds that haven't come to light yet. I did my best 'deer in the headlights' look and said nothing.

"Thou must bring a new peeler unto me!" she said. "In thy utter darkness and stupidity, thou hast lost the only good one in the kitchen."

This wasn't entirely true. I'd been assigned to potato peeling duty every night for a week, and I couldn't help it if the peeler went 'missing' -- although it did absolve me of the responsiblity of denuding helpless potatoes for awhile.

I brightened a little. "Soooo you want a new peeler, a nice one? Maybe something that fits well in the hand and is easy to manipulate?" I had just the thing.

Image by Joanna8555 on Flickr.

"No! Not THAT kind of peeler!" she roared. "I may yet smite thee, thou scruffulous toad-dog! Hie thee to the kingdom of Kohl or the wizard-realm of Target and bring me a peeler. Pray I do not send thee to the bottomless depths of the benighted land of WalMart on a Sunday afternoon, though thou doest truly deserve it. Fetch unto me the Peeler of KitchenAid, and make it snappy 'cause it's on sale, bozo!"

The WalMart bit shook me. We're having the local tax-free holiday this weekend, and the approaches to the dark realm of low, low discount prices would be thronged with orcs, goblins, bawling children, and less-than-happy parents looking to do mayhem for a chance at a parking space.

I respectfully tugged my forelock and hied off to Kohls.

"What wizardry is this?" I thought as I immediately found a place to park. Off to the west, nearer to the all-consuming evil empire that is the blackened land of Wally World, I could hear the cries of the damned floating on the wind. Orcs, trolls, and lawyers were feeding on the hapless crowd in an orgy fueled by money and happy meals from the satanic empire of Ronald McDonald. I turned away, saddened by the loss of so many people, but powerless to overcome the corporate might unleashed on those doomed souls.

I entered the kingdom of Kohl via the front gate, astounded to find it unguarded. Shoppers streamed by, laden with large bags bearing countless treasures. A few toothsome young women streamed by as well, their bodies unencumbered by much in the way of clothing due to the summer heat. I bumped into the door.

Two KitchenAid peelers remained on the shelf. I grabbed one and hurried back to the checkout, expecting to find a crowd of ravenous orcs waiting to make their purchases. But no, I breezed up to the counter and paid a handsome sum for the most wanted of peelers, then booked for the parking lot and home.

It was truly an adventure, but not one that I'd care to repeat any time soon.