Saturday, October 29, 2011

The

The Great Halloween
Counter-Plot
      As we all know, dear reader, 'fiction' asks us to suspend belief.  This evening's post does just that.  Imagine, if you will, that it is October 31, 2011 - Halloween.  And imagine that the photo to the left is properly aligned and clear.  surely, it is appropriate in that we are in garb especially selected to enjoy a costume Halloween party.  That it was taken before the six-pack was even cracked is but a tribute to our ineptness in the realm of photography.  That we actually wore these items cannot, by way of description, dare employ the use of the word "tribute".  The reasons requiring my composition of a Halloween story prematurely will be explained on October 31.  They, too are not worthy of tribute but DO tune in if only to say Boo this coming Monday.
      On an appropriately cool, dark night, damped with fog, a neighborhood of masked, midget marauders had prepared excitedly to march door-to-door seeking munchies and amusing assortments of fungibles in honor of All Hallows Eve. (They, however, had the date right.)  Unbeknownst to these little revelers, a group of miscreants, armed with retaliatory mischief for the non-compliant, thwart/tort/pillage and loot our costumed innocents to secure provisions for the anticipated long ice-age ahead.
      Their booty was to be stashed in an abandoned gazebo adjacent to the property that sported a marble likeness of King Neptune at the edge of its water-surrounded point.  Its owner/plotter (OP) prized the piece along with his pool and winterized lanais.  OP had a devious plan - indeed a tribute to HIS scientific acumen.  Helium-filled, giant, colorful replicas of the King Neptune statue, the whimsical (and plentiful) mounted mermaids which graced the port city of Norfolk and the equally magical mounted mustangs that dotted the Outer Banks of Dare and Currituck Counties in North Carolina had been assembled and were at the ready.
      When their 'originals had been safely enveloped within, nary a single costumed nubile would dare non-compliance if approached by these threateningly huge 'creatures'.  Just as these artful originals were proudly mounted beautifying their surroundings, so, too had OP 'mounted' the details of his plot to undermine the plot of fortune-acquisition by the Trick-or-Treaters.  Being the very soul of fairness, however, he planned to strip them of only half of their fun.  His 'ghouls' would be fetching just the Treats.
      The 'beauty'of this counter-plot was the beauty of these precious works of art plus the NICENESS of the NCIS detail which was already stealthily poking around the Hampton Roads area.  They would rather destroy Abby's dog collar than demolish, nay, even dent this special statuary.  Now, OP had created a potion that actually breathed life into statues, thus opening the door for OP to assemble his very own army of 'monument minions'.
      With a thirty-five foot tall King Neptune doing his bidding, those little ones would 'hand over the chocolate and nobody gets hurt'.  Talk about cooperation.  As Coach Kathy Rush once said of failure, "Get out the winter clothes."  In THIS instance, that would translate to "It will be a cold day in Hell if we ever let ourselves be so vulnerable that we have NO defense."  Talk Radio hosts like Nancy on "How Do You Roll?" were flooded with calls from hysterical parents without a clue once OP's plot began.  It was "tin-foil-hat" kind of stuff.
      Nobody was wearing their tin foil hat which deflects dangerous rays that can lead to mind control and other mental distortions.  That is why everyone believed they were seeing giant monument minions!
      And at six PM, King Neptune and Company had inflated a reptilian-hued replica of the Monitor using OP's handyman's top-of-the-line compressor, got in, attached an outboard and motored down the Lynkhorn Bay to the Lynnhaven Bay whence they disembarked and disseminated.  The mustangs hoofed along the city streets (land attack); the mermaids plunged in and swam through the maze of the perfectly-routed Tidewaters. (sea launch)  OP, having memorized the routes of the new light rail (The Tide) in place at the time of the caper, bought the most efficient round-trip tickets and secreted them in King Neptune's crown.
      King Nep was to ride The Tide and use his tine to pierce and nab booty as swiftly as his webbed feet would permit, securing it in his stash and carry, re-usable, 'green' net sac, then Tide back to rendezvous at the Gazebo point by nine PM before NCIS - now really rollin' to make good the kids' Halloween.
      Then, OP/Master-mind would get to the business of deflation - sapping the air from the many Cammi-colored, ruses constructed for the occasion.  BUT.  Some pieces of the puzzle were lining up - contoured edges smooth and flush;  traces of a mysterious contaminant were found and analyzed from the mustangs' droppings; spy photographs snapped the owner amid the rogue regiment at the gazebo executing mission orders: stockpile booty in gazebo storage trove.
 
      The Wrap-Up

GOTCHA GHOUL!

NCIS:  COMPLETION
      Return All statuary to proper homes
      Return to HQ
      Write, file and submit report

SEALS:  Dismiss:  No such regional rampage.  Prudent resolution in the face of a potential epic engagement. (Military town, after all.)  SEALS then trekked through the icy night to The Tide Newtown Road Station to stand stolid and strong, facing East until the light rail project is completed.

COUNTER-PLOTTERS:  Inspection of bounty
                                              Ingestion of one selection
                                              Irrigation
                                              In bed at nine PM

PARENTS: Get out real winter clothes
                     Grope downstairs for exhausted treat
                     Go back upstairs:
"Honey, WHO lifted the kids' stuff?"
"Dunno.  Gotta catch 'Bones'."

"Night."
"Night."
BLACKOUT

(Slow, eerie noise)  "G-H-O-U-L  N-I-G-H-T. . . ."

Later, Lorane. . . .
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