Four kids standing on a corner |
“Where is he?” Sparky stared at the group of writers for a few moments before he sighed heavily. “I don't know,” he finally admitted. “Who are those ones standing off by themselves?” “Moderators,” Sparky reported, a far off sound to his voice. “What do they do?” “They moderate; stay the hell away from 'em. Especially that tall drink of water...” “Who's that?” “That, my friends, is Legerdemain.” “That is Legerdemain? Are you sure?” Sparky nodded his head again and again, as though lost in thought. “I like the ones with the yellow briefcases!” “Yeah, most people do.” “Why's that, Sparky?” “They're preferable, simple as that.” “Who's the one eating the peanut butter and jelly sand witch? “That's Arakun. If you talk to her better keep it under 300 words. Got the patience of a rattlesnake.” “How 'bout that guy over there looking up at the sky?” “The one with his legs crossed? Hyperiongate.” “What's he looking for?” Sparky let out a long sigh. “Spaceships, most likely.” “There he is!” said Rhonda. “Oh my gawd!” said Lisa. “Wow,” Martin said. “Dude, that's really him!” The four high-schoolers ran across the street with Sparky on his bike in the lead. They ran right between Robert Waltz who was in the midst of exclaiming the virtues of puns to another moderator, zig-zagged around Hunter's Moon, almost knocked over Winnie and came face to face with the man they'd been waiting for hours to see. "Excuse me, Mr. Jones," Sparky said straddling his bicycle. Winchester Jones turned casually to take in the four out of breath kids who hovered wide-eyed beside him. He focused on the Sparky and gave him a reassuring smile. "Calm down, son," he said in a deep baritone voice. "What can I do for you?" "I was, well... we were... hoping to get your autograph if that would be-- I mean-- if you had the time?" "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Legerdemain asked in a deeper baritone voice. "I was," Sparky stammered, "I mean, we was, I mean--" "YOU KNOW THE RULES, MR. JONES!" "Sorry, kids," Winchester Jones said with that typical Winchester Jones look of love and kindness in his eyes. "My fifteen minutes are up..." |