The Big Lie Part Whatever: Update from the Road

I can't stay online for long. I've been spotted. Hopefully, I can relate the details of the Library Pervert Scene before I have to slip out of this Radio Shack and skip town.

As you recall, the Shambling Trenchcoated Figure (or STF for short) had taken up residence at one of the computers at some unnamed local library. He was clicking the mouse with his right hand but keeping his left in the pocket of his trenchcoat.

The Librarian, a handsome older woman with a steel-gray bun, steel-gray eyes and reading glasses on a chain, had noticed the STF and decided that direct confrontation was just the thing.

What I didn't have time to relate was that at that exact moment, several things happened at once.

The first, and perhaps most dramatical of these simultaneous events was that STF was startled out of his sticky reverie by Librarian's "You there!". He jumped up from his chair and wheeled to face his confronter.

It was at this point that everyone in the room found out the ugly way that the Trenchcoat was pretty much all this guy was wearing, and that (oh the humanity) it was not properly buttoned.

Librarian affected the classic Afflicted Librarian Look: head thrown back in a partial swoon, back of the hand to the forehead, a deep sob of horror escaped her lips. She held her Offical Librarian Due Date Stamp in front of her in a sort of defensive posture.

As I gaped in disbelief at this tableau, another event occurred.

A contingent from the militant wing of the CARB alliance suddenly appeared in the Periodicals Section, blocking my escape route.

The Kids After School Reading Club (or KASR for short) was being let out at this exact time. Miss Sonya was herding them toward the main entrance. Little Frank D'Angelico heard the Librarian's anguished sob and turned to see What All the Commotion was About.

This is the point at which All Hell officially Broke Loose.

The KASR (ages 9-12) flipped out. They ran screaming in circles.

Miss Sonya fell against the reference stacks, in the same Afflicted Librarian pose I had just witnessed.

The CARB delta force spotted me. There were three of them. They were all packing heat. They drew their weapons at the exact same moment that the Librarian attacked.

The degenerate in the raincoat staggered backward as Librarian landed two clean blows to his filthy forehead with the date stamper. "07/22/05 07/22/05," read his head.

Four loud gunshots rang out, and a dozen preteen readers broke for the exit. That way was blocked. The Armed Cadre blocked the other exit.

Seconds ticked by.

I went out the window.

I sped away in my little orange Yugo just as the first wave of Swat Teams, Local Law Enforcement, Hostage Negotiators, Trauma Councelors, and Media arrived.

A thin man with thinning hair, brown wingtips and gold-rimmed glasses set up a press conference before I had even cleared the borders of that little town. You probably saw it on the news. I saw none of this firsthand, of course. I was on the lam.

I think the Radio Shack Head Nerd (or RSHN for short) has noticed me. I'd better press submit and pretend to be interested in buying this TRS-80. More later.

I hope.