Pencil, we’re going back in. One last covert mission in the fog -Arizona
Pencil and I got the call we’d been dreading at just past whatever O’clock South Africa time last night. Or not. There was a disguised voice on the phone with a slight Latina accent. “We have your chair. If you want your chair back you will deliver to us pop-rocks, tootsie pops, an industrial vat of KY and some pencil crayons. If you fail to do this by Whatever O’clock prior to the 29th of this month or maybe sometime early in November, we will disassemble the chair.”
Pencil was understandably distressed. Our first collective thought was Stabby. I told pencil to calm the fuck down while I made a quick phone call to the Sherriff Joe Homey Don’t Play That House of Indefinite Incarceration Pending Sentencing. He confirmed Stabby was at least still in custody and Pencil relaxed for a second. I paced and thought. Wait a minute pencil I said, play the tape back, was that……Salsa music I heard in the background? ChaCha!! Stabby’s new number one fan/dance instructor had our buddy Chair. Now pencil was really freaked the fuck out. What if, what if she spins him and he twists off of his wheel stand? I gave pencil a Xanax and told her there had been no mention of torture. We’ll get him back pencil, don’t worry I’ll figure it out.
It was while I was trying to frantically figure out where ChaCha might be holding Nurmi’s Chair that my buddy Stabby’s Diary dropped by and plopped open on the second last written page. “God I am so smart. This Einstein like plan cannot fail. There can be no trial if there are no seating arrangements. I will get ChaCha to kidnap that hater Nurmi’s Chair. Fat fuck. Probably eating already. Oh my god I am so brilliant. And Pretty.” Pencil thanked Stabby’s Diary and they quickly hugged. Pencil knew what a chance Diary had taken to bring us this information. Diary peaced out before Stabby realized it was missing. Pencil and I were furious. Pencil was still scribbling obscenities when we got the second call for our answer. I was dead calm as I spoke. “I don’t know who you are I started and I don’t care. We don’t have money, and how the hell you think we can find an industrial vat of KY in the town Stabby is housed in is beyond us. What we do have is a very specific set of skills. If you release Nurmi’s chair on the corner of buttfuck and nowhere now, that will be the end of it. We will not look for you. If you don’t, we will look for you, we will find you and we will report you for gross violations to the ethics committee. We might or might not also take you to South Africa and Lock you in Pusstorias’ bathroom.” ChaCha decided to haggle. “Ok then, how about forget the KY and bring some baby oil and uhhhh maybe and apartment sized washing machine.” She hung up and Pencil and I decided fuck this lets just go get chair.
Pencil Googled the ChaCha Delarosa School of Dance while I loaded a Swiss army knife with all the attachments, 14 screwdrivers, an upside down license plate, a .25 caliber handgun and assorted kitchen knives, a couple of lengths of rope, some Kool-Aid stained floor mats, Clairol number 5 (really bad disguise),two hair bands for braids and some really really ugly clothes to distract ChaCha in case she proved difficult into the furniture moving van we had just rented. Me and Pencil jumped into the passenger seat and Ninjas moving floored it. We stopped just down the road and filled up two gas cans. The ninja siblings consulted each other and decided to stop at Wal-Mart to buy another one and then return it. We were half-way there when the ninja siblings screeched to a halt. Que Pasa bro they yelled out the window. A gang of skateboarders wheeled over with the one screwdriver size we did not have. Pencil and I argued with the ninja siblings that this operation was getting way to big, but, the screwdriver skateboard gang had extra strawberry frapachinos so we let them come.
We spotted Nurmi coming out of a IHOP as we sped by. Poor bastard. Since he’d gotten the news on Wednesday he had already gained 30lbs. We almost, but no not really felt sorry for him for a second. I was feeling charitable as pencil started to scribble furiously and toss obscenities out the window. Pencil I said. Calm down. Does dude look like a happy human being to you? He looks crushed. On top of that, he doesn’t even know his chair has been kidnapped. Everybody thinks he is in the Ikea Protection Program. Think of that man. Already he hates Stabby nine days out of ten and then he goes to court and he has to sit on some Chinese knockoff faux leather non reclining chair. It will finish him. And then Stabby will be responsible for both their deaths. Pencil decided I was right and scribbled a quick note to Nurmi. “Sorry dude, we keep forgetting you are as much a victim of her madness as anyone.” Nurmi caught it as it fluttered by and we saw a brief smile on his face. He dropped his bag of takeout into a garbage receptacle and there was a slight bounce in his step as he continued on his way. Pencil looked at me and said “thanks Kelly, I needed that.” “No problem pencil I said, I have the same mixed feelings about Nurmi that you do.”
It was starting to get foggy. A dog in a courtroom barked in the distance. We were rounding the corner on the last stretch to the dance studio when we spotted Juan Martinez still in the paroxysm of a laughing fit that had started Wednesday. (You are not the only one that knows five dollar words bitch) We were deep into the fog when we pulled up to the ChaCha Delarosa School of dance/Mitigation consultation studio.
The Ninja Siblings pulled around to the back and idled. The screwdriver skateboard gang piled out and wheeled up to the door with the extra Strawberry Frapachino and left it at the door as they wheeled by. Then, they removed ChaCha’s license plate and turned it upside down because why not. That accomplished the screwdriver skateboarder gang peaced out and headed to the nearest airport Cinnabon. Unfortunately they were late and it was closed. We later mailed them a 10 dollar gift card.
It was now up to me and pencil. We put operation roll back into effect. It was a plan that pencil and chair had come up with during the trial. We busted into ChaCha’s dance studio with the Swiss army knife and all the screwdrivers. Pencil distracted ChaCha with a quickly scribbled note we pretended was from Stabby.
I quickly attached the braid bands to either side of Nurmi’s chair and told him we were breaking him the fuck out. The poor thing was so traumatized he could only shake and squeak. I didn’t have time to comfort him I just pulled back hard on his backrest until the braid bands were tight and let go. Pencil jumped on as Nurmi’s chair wheeled out the door. The ninja siblings were waiting outside and quickly rolled Nurmi’s chair up the ramp. Chair and Pencil were just happy to be back together. I threw the ugly clothes at ChaCha distracting her long enough to get to the van.
We drove and drove until we were in the middle of the desert, going over 100 miles in the wrong direction thank you very much. Nurmi’s Chair slowly began to calm down and his squeaking ceased. He and pencil fell asleep. I checked him over gently for any signs of tampering. He looked a little worked over but pretty much okay. I sprayed his wheels with some WD-40 and applied leather protector to the visible wounds. He sighed out a thank you to me and Pencil and drifted off again safe in the knowledge that he was once again with friends.
The Ninja siblings asked me what we should do now. I shrugged. Dunno I said. Since we have some time before the penalty phase re-trial; I got this invite to an ice-cream party in Vegas. I know Nurmi’s Chair likes blackjack and it would probably take his mind off of his ordeal. You guys can come. We are all invited.
We all agreed that Lisa Schillings Ice-cream party in Vegas was the best idea. Our cell phone had magically turned back on by then so in an act of unrivaled charity, Nurmi’s Chair called Nurmi and asked if he wanted to meet us in Vegas for some ice-cream.