Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Of Windmills & Wishes, Of Monsters & Masters

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!” 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, 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.

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