Frantic Thoughts With Fanatic

Old Man's Trash Can*

Hypothetical sat grouchily in one of the wheelchairs the senior home provided. He was out in the garden, minding his own business when the most insane idea came over him. It was time he finally destroyed his nemesis! Its time to suit up!

"With the power of my mind, I summon thee junkbucket!" He shouted. And shouted. And shouted. Until, suddenly, the handicap van appeared in the driveway. The side opened and he wheeled himself in. "To the metro!"

The junkbucket swung around the curb at two miles an hour. "What is this? I'm in a hurry, slowpoke, floor it or I'm jumpin' out!" His voice sounded off, "gosh darn, my dentures popped out. Oh well, won't be needin' teeth where we're goin'."

"Sir, I'm not supposed to take you on another one of your crusades to destroy public property." The driver said from the front seat.

"Oh, aren't ya!? You'll take me wherever I wanna go or so help me Francis, I'll clobber ya with my cane, sonny boy!" As if to prove a point, Hypothetical held up his cane and poked the driver in the arm, "now, floor it!"

The driver picked up to twenty five miles an hour. Hypothetical waved his cane precariously close to the drivers head. "I mean it, boy, I'm in a hurry. My nemesis is at the metro, and I'm gonna finally do it. Imma bang him up so bad that he won't ever come back! You're preventin' my justice from bein' served. Now hurry up or you'll get yer ear pulled!"

The driver did as told, his ear still red from Hypothetical's last crusade to save the city. Once at the metro, he wheeled himself to the elevator and waited patiently with the driver, listening to elevator music from the seventies.

The door dinged open and Hypothetical shouted incoherently as he rushed at his nemesis. Tall, round, green, and full of dents from the previous battle, he was wounded, now was the time to attack. Once he got within striking distance, he lashed out with his cane. Banging his nemesis back and forth over and over on his green body. He climbed out of his wheelchair and brought his cane down on his nemesis's head, bang, bang, bang. A hollow metallic sound rang through the air. "Die, trash can, die!"

Hypothetical had put several new dents into his nemesis before he could call his soldiers. Ugly things, nearly three times as tall as their master. "Oh, come on, he's evil! He must be destroyed!"

"Look, you old fart, you're damaging public property. We have to remove you from the premises and report you as a danger to yourself and others." One of the two said.

"I ain't an old fart. I'm Hypothetical! And I gotta destroy my nemesis, now move outta the way, sonny boy, or Imma clobber you as well!" Hypothetical rushed at his nemesis one last time, managing to get one more blow in before the soldiers rushed to their masters defense. "No, no, no! I almost had him this time!"

"Sir, can you take your charge back to wherever he comes from. He is no longer welcome at this metro station." One of the soldiers said to the driver.

"Sorry about him. He's not mentally right in the head. Thinks he's a superhero and all. Come on, George, lets go back to the center." The driver lead him back toward the elevator.

"Alright, alright, I'm goin'," he trudged a few steps back before he swung around and rushed once more at his nemesis, "psyche, you thought I'd give up my mission so easily! Not gonna happen sonny boy!" He swung the cane twice more at his nemesis before it crumpled in on itself from all the dents from their numerous battles. Hypothetical leaped on top of his nemesis's remains and did what can only be assumed as a victory dance, swinging hips and twerking. As he did so, he accidentally threw out his back, tainting the memory of his epic victory. "Oh, my back!"

The End.