one if bin laden, two if haiku, pt. III

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CHAPTER III

As always, unconsciousness was relaxing...but alas, it was not to last! Before long, I was swimming back to the light, called by the sound of someone nearby.

"'Ku!" they said, softly poking my face with something sharp, cold, and hard. "'Ku! 'Ku!"

"Not right now," I replied sleepily. "Daddy needs his beauty rest..."

"Kuey!" came a second voice, this one somewhat familiar. "Get away from there; you're going to wake him up!"

"If that was the scoundrel's intent, they have succeeded!" I said, opening my eyes at last...only to find myself face-to-face with the largest pigeon the Sultan of Syllables had ever come across!

Kuey The Giant Intelligent Crimefighting Pigeon

"Sweet Merciful Odin!" I cried, throwing my hands in front of my face. "The birds! The birds!!"

And then, she jumped to my aid again! That's right -- the pink-clad crimefighter who had previously rescued me from certain death at the hands of Osama bin Laden!

"Kuey, leave him alone!" she said, shoving the pigeon away from me. "Sorry about this, mister. She won't hurt you. Just, uh, overly friendly sometimes."

"G-gah-gah, you're swell," I stammered. "I m-mean, that's all right. After all, you really saved my bacon earlier...with bacon, no less! The least I can do is let your giant mutant pigeon nuzzle me."

"Oh, Kuey's not a mutant," my benefactor said. "She's from Seattle -- they're all this big and smart there."

"Really!" I said, flabbergasted. Then to my always-handy mini-tape recorder, I whispered, "Note to self: bring extra breadcrumbs when visiting Seattle."

Finally, I took in my surroundings. I appeared to be in some kind of high-tech crimefighting headquarters not unlike my own, with loads of computer equipment, villain trophies, extra costumes, vending machines, art projects, and the like filling up the vast space.

As for yours truly, I was sprawled out on a big, comfy couch. Swinging my legs onto the floor, I raised myself to a standing position and took my new friend's hand.

"Whoever you are, you have earned the undying gratitude of the one, true Haiku Master for your earlier brave deeds!" I said. "From one costumed crimefighter to another -- SA-LUTE!"

"Haiku Master?" she said. "Did you say 'Haiku Master?'"

"Yes," I said. "Is that a problem? Wait -- you're not a Limerickist, are you?"

"No, far from it. As a matter of fact, around these parts they call me...Haiku Girl!"

Haiku Girl, huh? Well smother me with barbeque sauce and throw me on the Foreman, 'cause this adventure just got that much hotter!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'ONE IF BIN LADEN, TWO IF HAIKU' PT. IV---