Don Quixote sat astride his horse,
counting money. Sancho Panza was close at hand mounted on a donkey,
grumbling to himself about the old man being smarter than he looked.
At the bottom of the hill, a giant stood bellowing where previously a
windmill had stood, and a small figure was barrelling towards the
self-proclaimed knight and his long-suffering squire. The man
clamored up the hill, and breathless, collapsed before the gallant
pair.
The giant, for his part, had sat on
his rear and was scratching his head, seemingly quite confused. He
turned his barn sized head to the sky, contemplating the expanse, and
in a whisper like the crashing surf, asked: “Who am I?” Newly
welcomed into this sphere, he was suffering an immediate and
incapacitating existential crisis. The three men on the hill
overlooking the poor creature were of course oblivious to his plight.
The breathless man came to his
feet, and, once he'd regained a measure of compsure, marveled: “I
can't believe it worked...it worked!” He reached up to clap Sancho
Panza on the back and let out an excited war-whoop, leaping into the
air. Don Quixote pocketed his earnings and regarded the fellow. Under
the cool gaze directed at him from atop the horse, the man calmed,
but remained grinning as he introduced himself.
“The name is Jekyll. I am a doctor,
a chemist. You see my formula, well...I hadn't meant to spill
it on the side of that windmill, but...it worked! I've created life!
Who's the New Prometheus now?” he sneered, at no one in particular.
Don Quixote clapped his visor
down, and from behind it came his muffled declaration,
“You we shall deal with anon,
however, the leviathan at hand demands immediate action!” and with
that, galloped down the hill, lowering his lance. Sancho Panza
regarded the doctor with wry mirth.
“You cost me a bet. But, you did
turn a windmill into a living, breathing, monster. I hate to lose the
money...but I feel like I must be party to something fairly
monumenal. I don't suppose you're looking for a business partner? I'd
settle for personal assistant- My squiring resume speaks for itself.”
“I don't imagine there'll be much of
a need,” jekyll responded, pointing down the hill. With a terrific
crash, Don Quixote had slammed full force into the giant, peircing
it's newly beating heart with his lance. The great creature
shuddered, and fell backwards, expiring immedietely. Don Quixote,
having dismounted, stood triumphantly over the beast, pumping his
fists into the air. “That was all of the formula I had, and I'd not
written any of it down. I'm not likely to be able to repeat it.”
Sancho Panza was silent, but after
a moments consternation over being unable to recoup his recent
losses, the squire had a flash of good-will.
“You've done him a great favor, you
know.” he said at length, watching the old fool, still in armor but
for his helm, which he'd punted halfway back up the hill, as he
danced and crowed. “You've gven him a sense of purpose. He'd grown
weary, and was becoming discouraged. But this adventure will do his
old heart good, I think. You brought his fantasy to life.”
Jekyll beamed, and nodded, almost
overcome.
“He'll be a right pain in my ass, now, though.” Sancho continued, as he spurred his own mount down the hill, to join in his masters revelry.
“He'll be a right pain in my ass, now, though.” Sancho continued, as he spurred his own mount down the hill, to join in his masters revelry.
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