Different Proposal

A Different Proposal

Here I go again. Who am I? I’ve had so many names, so many identities that I’ve lost track. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one. Yeah, that’s right, I’m talking about the guy upstairs, the one who’s supposed to have some control or at least some idea of what’s going on. It’s like whatever whim comes into his mind, that’s what happens next, no plan, no clue where anything is going or how one thing relates to another. Complete chaos, that’s my world. It’s not like I haven’t tried my hardest. You think the big guy with his hands on the keys would listen to me. Not a chance, but why should he? I’m the one who has to work his way out of one perilous situation after another.

Remember the locked alligator cage with all the ravenous alligators. Silly me, how could you forget it. I know I never will. Somehow I kept my wits about me and recalled some basic alligator anatomy, like how powerful their jaws were for closing. The musculature for opening them, on the other hand, didn’t have to be very powerful at all. I quickly fastened my belt around the alpha male’s snout, tied my shirt to keep the second biggest one’s mouth closed, and used my pants to bind number three. So there I am in my skivvies, wondering what to use on the last three. Luckily, they were small enough, I could grab them and while holding their jaws shut, shove their mouths between the bars of the cage.

Just when I think I can catch my breath for a moment, I find myself on a Swiss Alp. Somehow I was appropriately dressed in snow gear. These jump cuts really need a little more preparation to acclimate both you and me, but no. If that wasn’t enough of stretching your “willing suspension of disbelief,” then the sudden change of my hair color to blond would be bad, but not as outrageous as changing my eye color. Surprise, surprise, an army of goons are after me with high powered automatic rifles. Motivation, back story? Naw, takes too much thinking. Luckily, there was a lady on the mountain doing her ironing—Hey, I don’t write this stuff, I just have to live it—and so I commandeered her ironing board, turned it upside down, and schussed my way down the world’s most dangerous ski run escaping once again. Who says an ironing board can’t be a better snowboard than any Shaun White ever used?

In the next paragraph, I’m in the Amazon saving a group of gorgeous, slender, voluptuous nuns in bikinis. But that scene did at least serve as background for how I learned to use a Bic pen as a blowgun to save the President from assassination in the next episode.

Sleeping, eating, using restroom facilities, watching TV, not part of my agenda. Using mirrors (maybe smoke and mirrors would be more apt) to combat global warming would have been just child’s play if it weren’t for the super vampires who have learned to live in the sunlight trying to stop me.

Enough examples, too many, why don’t I get to the point, you’re probably asking. Sorry, I think I’ve spent too much time with you know who and it’s rubbing off. Okay, here’s what I’ve been trying to say. Through all of these adventures, unlikely as they may have been, you’ve been there with me. You’ve stayed by me. I can’t begin to express how moved I am by your loyalty. You’ve been the one constant in all this confusion. I can count on you for support. You’ve been the only solid foundation I have. This closeness has made me—how can I say it—grateful isn’t enough. I need you. There I go skirting the issue again, but this is the most frightening experience I’ve ever encountered, much worse than that time with the Yetis threatening the Super Bowl as a diversion to stealing all the gold in Fort Knox and ruining the global economy. You know I’ve always tried to be brave, but this predicament is different. It’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever faced. I’m completely out of my element. I’m stumbling and bumbling and mumbling like a schoolboy.

I’ve always lived by the motto, “He who hesitates is lost,” so forgive my haste, but if I don’t act now, you know who will put me in some kind of peril in Southeast Asia or the North Pole. You get the idea. Hell, you’ve seen what he does. Sorry, I didn’t mean to cuss, not cool at all.

Here it is. You been with me through thick and thicker, and I want this association, this connection, this friendship to continue. Hell, oops, sorry again. I want it to grow. Please don’t be upset, but . . . but I’m in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my existence with you.

No, I’m not afraid he’ll see this. He never proofreads anything. Once it’s typed, it could be etched in stone, no changes. You see, I’ve escaped so many traps, and it’s all my doing. He has no imagination. He puts me in those situations, but I’m the one who figures out the solutions. I’d like to develop my character to be more than just some flat action hero. I think I’ve found a way to escape this purple prose, but it depends on you.

Dear reader, I love you. I want to be with you. I’d make a good provider. You’ve seen how resourceful I am. I need someone who respects me as a human being, not just words on a page. I need someone that I can trust. I love you. Please don’t turn away. I know we can make a go of thi--

The killer penguins that had been trained in mixed martial arts by Dr. Nefarious were closing in with malice in their eyes and holding specially modified Uzi’s in their flippers. There could be no escape this time.

THE END?