Meeting with Destiny Pt 3

Everything was moving in slow motion but Wolfgang’s thoughts were moving faster than lightning moving at lightspeed. The van in which members of the vicious Zoo Gang had kidnapped him was out of control and headed towards a cliff. Before he could climb into the front and hit the breaks, the van was airborne, screaming towards some craggy rocks 100 metres below.

With cat-like movements (Wolfgang had spent some weeks observing his cat the previous summer so he could imitate its movements) he scrambled to the back doors of the van and kicked them open. The wind rushing through his magnificent hair, he had only moments to act. It was 5pm, nearing sunset. Often the De Machine eagles, native to these parts, would fly around the cliff-face searching for their dinner at around this time. If I can use some of the blood from one of my attackers…, he thought.

Smeared in the blood of his vanquished enemies, Wolfgang waited one more second until he caught the glimmer of movement to his left and dove right. The eagle was startled by the sight of the blood-smeared man but when its senses caught up with it, it veered towards its new 6 foot 2 dinner.

“Got to time this… just… right…” Wolfgang grimaced.

The eagle dove at him, and Wolfgang managed to take off the belt from his jeans, wrap it around the eagle’s neck and was flown to the safety of the rocks below. Due to the lack of belt, his trousers had fallen off as the eagle descended, leaving him standing in his Phantom boxer shorts following his near-death experience. As he walked away, he was silhouetted by the explosion set off by the crashed van.

“Thank you noble beast of this partially coastal medium-sized village.” He said to the departing eagle. “At least there’ll be no evidence left behind for those pesky cops to look at.” The adrenaline was still pumping through his legs, making it seem that he was walking on a marshmallow cloud of honey.

By the time he arrived at the pub, feeling that his most recent adventure had entitled him to a beer, he noticed that there were three missed calls on his new Razr phone from Cindy Sluutkowski. As he started to dial the message bank he felt a hand on his shoulder. A hand with the grip of a cement coffin. The hand was almost as cold as ice, but not quite. He turned around, not able to believe his eyes. It was his former tae kwan do instructor, Hee Hutmilots.

“But… it can’t be! I saw you die in that explosion in the dead of night at the shipping yards when you were fighting twelve ninja rabbis and it was really difficult to see and I never looked for the body… you can’t be here… gasp…”