Posts Tagged ‘skating’

I’ll Make a Man Out of You

July 4, 2010

The following series of events occurred between 07:55 and 08:00 on the morning of July 4th, 2010.

I was on a skateboard, zooming through the street, carrying a stack of pizza boxes. I was the delivery chick and the faster I delivered, the bigger my tips. Luckily, I was Tony Hawk’s sensei and all of the streets were downhill Crazy-Taxi-like streets. So after a quick calculation, I was looking forward to about $300, only half of which belongs in the cashier.

I arrive at my first destination, and ring the doorbell. It was one of those apartment buildings with like, six buzzers, and you can either talk to the tenant through the intercom, or someone can buzz you up.

“HEZZZLLO?!”

“Uh… Yeah hi. You ordered a pizza?”

“YZEAH ZHUSTA SEKHUNT, A’LL BAHZZ JOU AHB!”

“Cool.” [I had no idea what he said]

“OH, BHAT BE CRRFUHLL. MZHULAN ND’ER CLAN’LL GEHT ZHOU!”

“Sorry?”

“BE CRRFUHLL!! MZHULAN ND’ER CLAN’LL GEHT ZHOU!”

“I’m sorry, are you saying “Mulan and her clan will get me?”

bzzzzzzzz

And I got buzzed in. Still clueless as to what the guy was saying on the other end of the shitty intercom, I started jogging up the stairs. Apartment 302, that’s where I was going.

Just as I reached the top of the first flight of stairs, three ninjas fell from up above.

LET’S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS! TO DEFEAT… THE HUN! *hyah!*

Oh Jesus, this was actually happening. Mulan and her little ninja people were gearing up to defeat the Hun, and there was no way they’d let me pass unless I joined in song and did all the actions. Fucking hell. There goes a $20 tip.

(Be a man!) WE MUST BE SWIFT AS THE COURSING RIVER (Be a man!) WITH ALL THE FORCE OF A GREAT TYPHOON (Be a man!) WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF A RAGING FIRE, MYSTERIOUS AS… THE DARK SIDE OF… THE MOOOOOOOOOOOON!

This was ridiculous. Why was Mulan in a city that looked like modern day San Francisco? Surely the Hun had already been defeated centuries ago. Right? I mean, why was I getting caught up in this bullshit? Damn-it, I have pizzas to deliver!

Seeing as how I would never get past these guys, I went back downstairs and walked around the building to the fire escape. I made it relatively quickly to the third-story window, and then knocked.

“WZHO ZZTHE FUCKH ARRZ ZHOU?”

Oh oops, that wasn’t a shitty intercom, that was his real voice. And he of course wasn’t human. He was a weird alien guy who kinda resembled one of these freaks.

“Uh, hello… sir… I uh, I have your pizza? That’s two large pepperoni and a side of wedges, so your total is $18.47.

“BLEAHBLAHHZBLAXKHZBBALLLAHZZBLEAHZZBAAAAA!!”

“Right. Okay, well that’s fine. I mean, if you don’t wanna pay, I’ll just… Leave the pizzas here and uh, be on my way, I guess. So uh, enjoyyourmealbye!”

And I bolted the fuck out of there. The last thing I want is for this alien sonofabitch to anal probe me.

Back on the street, I grabbed my skateboard and darted off in the direction of my next hungry customer. As I’m rolling down the street, thinking about the losses I had just incurred, Mulan and her men fan out behind me.

[Fat guy] I’m never gunna catch my breath…

[Mulan] Hope he doesn’t see right through me…

[Skinny guy] Now I really wish that I knew how to swim!

[Chorus] (Be a man!) WE MUST BE SWIFT AS THE COURSING RIVER (Be a man!) WITH ALL THE FORCE OF A GREAT TYPHOON (Be a man!) WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF A RAGING FIRE, MYSTERIOUS AS… THE DARK SIDE OF… THE MOOOOOOOOOOOON!

Oh my God, kill me now.

I get to the next address, and I see Chinese characters on the front door. This is a bad sign, seeing as how Mulan et al. are trying to defeat the Hun, and with my luck, Shan Yu will open the door and I’ll be in the middle of a blood fest. So I asked Mushu (who looked more like a miniature Eddie Murphy rather than a dragon) to come translate.

“China is… a country full of… pussies. China can… suck it. North Korea… is the… bomb… diggity. Long live… Kim Jong Il.” Mushu looked up at me, proud that he had been my translator. Then he did a double-take and became psycho-angry Eddie Murphy. “Wait, what? What the hell did these Korean mo’fuckas just say bout ma country?! I WILL STRAIGHT UP MURDER YO ASS, YOU HEAR ME?!”

Oh shit. I really just want to give the guy his pizza, take my money, and be on my way. Evidently, this wasn’t going to happen. So I left all the pizza on the doorstep and skated off.

I made it to the bank, where I had planned to steal $300. But when I walked in, it was the bank from Harry Potter. Apparently I was Harry, and this was the scene where Hagrid shows me how rich my dead parents were and how much gold I have. I was pretty stoked, so I took two pocketfuls of gold coins, and then woke up.

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An icy wonderland

March 2, 2009

Ten, Omar, Mohammed, and I decided to go to Dubai Mall. I was driving my Hummer limousine, Mohammed had shotgun, and Ten and Omar were in the spacious back part. Which had an ice-skating rink in it. They were rehearsing.

We get to the mall and manage to find parking, grab our skates, and enter through the entrance near the aquarium. There, we had to stow away our normal walking shoes and slip on our skates, because the entire mall was covered in ice. So instead of walking from store to store, one had to skate. Which was good news for us, because only few people could skate well enough to shop in that manner, so there wasn’t too much people-traffic.

We made our way through the mall, stopping at the Adidas store to buy some french fries (weird, I know), and finally reached our destination: a huge rink smack-dab in the middle of the mall that had bleachers full of about ten thousand spectators. The show was about to start!

Ten and Omar changed into their costumes, and for some reason, Mohammed and I weren’t in the show. But we were like, crew people, in charge of music and lighting and such.

Anyway, I cross-faded the lights and Mohammed aimed a spotlight at the announcer. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…” boomed his voice, “WELCOME TO THE THIRD ANNUAL ICE-SKATING EXTRAVAGANZA!” While he was talking, I was supposed to get my music ready for the routine, but my computer was refusing to work! I tried restarting it and everything, but nothing seemed to get my iTunes open. Which sucked, because I foolishly forgot to make a backup of the music I needed. “…LET THE SKATING BEGIN!” Shit! Ten and Omar had already taken their positions, waiting to hear the music cue, but I couldn’t get anything up and running!

“Listen loser, you’re gunna have to improvise,” I told Mohammed. “Don’t worry about it, I got it covered. I’m gunna sing the song myself,” he replied smugly. This actually did worry me, because Mohammed can’t sing for shit. Let alone in front of ten thousand people for some huge ice-skating event.

Suddenly, the music starts. What? How is this possible? I thought. It sounds exactly like the real song! With syncopation and rhythm and snare drums and backup harmonies and instrumentals and everything! I turned to look at Mohammed, who was now plugged into an amp, and he just winked at me. “Dude, seriously. This is fucking weird, how are you doing this?”

He then explained to me that because he’d heard the song so many times before, and because he’s part bedouin, part robot, he has the ability to use his brain like an extensive CD-ROM and burn shit onto it. So the music we needed was written onto his brain, and all he had to do was set up the necessary connections, and the music would play. This same procedure could be used for anything, including studying, watching movies, learning languages, memorising dance moves, and everything else one can possibly do in life. I was in awe.

Meanwhile, Ten and Omar started their routine. And they looked amazing! Ten landed the triple axle perfectly, while Omar skated backwards in front of her, matching her every move in reverse. Then came the part of the routine where he had to lift her over his head and spin on axis, let her go so she would fly through the air, then do some weird flip-thing, and she was supposed to land on the other end of the rink and spin to a stop. This is the part during their practice runs when they usually messed up. Because he’d throw her too far, and she’d end up crashing into the bleachers. So I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

They waited for the crescendo, then he lifted her into the air, and began spinning. After eight counts, he was supposed to fling her across the rink. Eight counts came and went, but the instrumental cue never came. In fact, it sounded like the CD was skipping. But then I remembered: there is no CD! I look at Mohammed, and he’s just standing there, looking confused. “Uhm… Sorry Ona, I don’t remember the next part of the song! My brain is stuck in this loop!”

I looked back at Omar and Ten, and things were not looking good. Because the rule of skating is, you follow the music cue. There was no way Omar would let Ten go until he heard that first note of the violin. So they were still spinning spinning spinning spinning spinning, faster and faster and faster. The ice underneath Omar’s feet was beginning to crack. He was literally drilling a hole through the rink!

“C’mon Mohammed, THINK! You know the next part! It’s like da-da deeeee, dadadaaa dum… da deeeee, dabadabadaaaaaaa… Remember?!” He obviously didn’t. His brain was indeed stuck. Stupid advanced bedouin-robot technology.

There was an ear-splitting crack, and the crowd gasped as the ice finally reached its brink and shattered, forcing Omar to stop spinning. He flung Ten in the direction he was supposed to, she flew gracefully through the air, and landed on a floating patch of ice on the other end of the rink. The audience went wild! They thought this was part of the performance! Omar and Ten were now on opposite ends of the ice-skating rink, which looked more like a semi-frozen ocean, with patches of ice strewn about the place. 

Not sure of what to do next, the two skaters began making use of their small ice-patches and did their own solo performances. But you could tell it was difficult, because the ice was all wobbly and stuff. I had to think fast.

Quick as a bolt, I turned the lighting machine on autopilot and ran downstairs to the garage where the Zamboni was parked. I jumped in the driver’s seat, put it on the submarine setting, and slowly submerged under the water, completely hidden from the crowd. Once I was fully below the surface, there was another garage door that opened into the rink, but from the underside of it.

I slowly cruised forward. On the dashboard were several buttons, with various useful functions. I was particularly concerned with finding the “ice restore” button. Finally, I found it. I then positioned myself in such a way that when I pressed the button, ice would shoot out from the top of the Zamboni, to reach the surface, and fill in the gaps. I did this for the entire length of the rink, and could see that Ten and Omar were back on track, because they were continuing the last part of the routine. Looks like Mohammed remembered the rest of the song after all! Now all I had to do was get back to the garage.

I turned the Zamboni around, to head back to the garage door, but it was nowhere to be found! Apparently it was only an entrance, not an exit. And the only other door led to the inside of the aquarium, where I definitely did not want to be, because there’s like, sharks in there. And everyone knows that sharks eat Zambonis for dinner. 

I heard the muted, underwater sound of the crowd applauding frantically, and looking up, I saw they were throwing roses and stuffed animals and other paraphernalia onto the rink, indicating their extreme level of enjoyment. Ten and Omar bowed several times, and after a while, skated off. Meanwhile, I was still trapped under the surface.

A penguin swam up to the passenger-side window and gazed sheepishly at me. He then took out a piece of paper and started scribbling something on it in permanent marker. When he held the paper up to the window, I could read what he wrote: nEEd hELp?

I nodded and signaled to him that yes, I did in fact need help, and he scribbled back: wAKE up!

And then I heard my phone ring, and Muaz was calling, telling me to wake up and come to uni.


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