Surely there is no finer thing in the world than having alcohol readily available to one at their local grocery store. This is much more fine to a newly arrived immigrant who truly appreciates having alcohol at the grocery store; compounded by the fact that this sweet sin is available for purchase and later consumption on Sunday.
It was good for Pedro as well. He has been going through strenuous ninja training and was in need of a beer. Ninja training, for those of you that have as yet to partake in it, is a fairly rigorous endeavor. It requires one to stay on a strict diet of White Russians and to maintain vitamin balance and constant viewings of Shark Week on the Discovery Channel to bolster one’s soul.
Pedro has been doing his best to maintain both of these stipulations. But tonight the two of us held counsel to re-go over our plot to overthrow our vile nemesis: Xanathar the Despicable.
There is, of course a large reward for Xanathar’s capture, a hefty sum that Pedro and I have not overlooked (what with me still being in the “negotiating job stage” and him in Ninja school and all; ninja school, for all that haven’t attended or are thinking of attending is not cheap). Which is why our counsel was held in the only privacy that we knew.
And that is how I landed in jail again. Chicago, while being an incredibly forward thinking community when it comes to having spirits ready to the faithful on the day of rest tends to frown upon counsels of any species in the bathroom.
So as penance for my “crime” they’ve forced me to go to a place far worse than Hell. The Hippie infested vista that overlooks the Pacific: Seattle. I’ve been told that coffee will be readily available to me and I will get to see the EMP and the Science Fiction Museum, which I’m also looking forward to, but it does detain me from bringing Xanathar the Despicable to justice.
I think the whole world suffers.
Pedro meanwhile has to go to Indiana. Which is something I wouldn’t wish on anybody.
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