The Case of the Incredible Sulk
It started off as a normal day for the employees of the Supervania International Airport. Travelers were coming and going as they would at any normal airport. There was the hustle and bustle of air travelers going through security checkpoints, buying tickets, and claiming luggage.
Paul Pennant was one such traveler. He had come a long way to visit the fair city, but his first impression was not going so well. He had waited at the baggage claim for quite a while before realizing that his luggage was not there.
Paul walked over to the luggage claim office to inquire on his luggage. The clerk asked about his claim check. Sadly, Paul could not locate the check. This was going to be a long day for him.
The clerk adeptly typed some things into the computer. Paul's patience was wearing pretty thin when the clerk said, "Ah -- I think I found your luggage."
"At last," replied Paul with a sigh of relief.
"Well..." stumbled the clerk "you see -- your luggage is in Transylvania."
"It is a common mistake, it happens all the time. Hehe -- Transylvania sort of sounds like Supervania."
"So what am I suppose to do?" asked Paul trying to suppress his anger.
"Well -- we'll get it here as soon as we can."
"What am I suppose to do in the mean time?" asked Paul with a bit more venom in his voice.
"There is no reason to get angry sir..."
"What! Don't tell me what I have reasons for!" shouted Paul as his face started to turn red.
"Please sir -- take a seat and I'll speak to my manager."
"Let me speak to your manager! I'll give him a piece of my mind!"
"Mr. McGee -- could you come out here please?"
"What seems to be the problem here?" asked the luggage claim manager.
"Apparently, my luggage is on a vacation of its own!" exclaimed Paul as his face was now a deep red.
"Transylvania sir," explained the clerk.
"Step into my office -- er -- Mr. Pennant is it?"
"Yes it is," replied Paul as he stepped around the counter. "What am I supposed to do without luggage?"
"There there Mr. Pennant," the luggage claim manager said soothingly. "Take a seat. My name is McGee, Quincy McGee."
"Charmed I'm sure," replied the still red faced Paul Pennant as he reluctantly sat in Mr. McGee's office chair."
"We're sorry about the luggage mix-up Mr. Pennant," started Mr. McGee. "It has been quite a hectic week for us here, and we'll do all we can to make it right."
"Make it right?" shouted Paul. "Make it right? It is way too late for that? What am I going to do without my things?"
Mr. McGee pulled out a box of clothes. "When you get to the hotel," he replied with a soothing tone. "The concierge there will take care of your personal needs like toothbrush, toothpaste, etc. Everything is going to be all right. If you need some clothes we do have some available here. What's your size?"
Paul's face gradually lost the purple hue and was only red now. "These clothes are a bit tattered and terribly out of fashion. Purple pants?"
"As I stated before, we've had quite a hectic week. We'll make sure the concierge picks up some nice clothes for you as well."
"When will I see my luggage again?" asked Paul through is teeth.
"I cannot answer that question," responded Quincy with a soothing tone. Mr. McGee sat on the corner of his desk and continued. "Transylvania is a long way away. Unfortunately, this type of thing is out of our hands. The originating airline was the one that made the mistake."
"That makes me sad," replied the angry customer sarcastically. "It isn't just clothes and other necessities in my suitcase. I have things that I wanted to have with me on this trip. Things that I need."
"Were really sorry for any trouble this may have caused."
"I bet you are. I'm just another mook who has lost his luggage to you..."
"That's not fair," complained the luggage claim manager. "It's been a rough one for me too... I have a job to do, and this is one of things that I have to do. We're doing our best."
"Mmmm," grumbled Paul.
"We'll do all we can to make your stay an enjoyable one, but my job isn't easy and I have troubles of my own. My loyal companion of 15 years -- do you have any pets?"
"No," replied the still red faced passenger.
"I guess that is a good way to be, because my loyal and faithful friend of those many long years," Mr. McGee stated as tears began forming in his eyes. "Scruffy my dear friend was -- well -- it is too hard to talk about. Let's just say he's gone."
"Mr. McGee," started Paul.
"Yes?" enquired Quincy as he attempted to fight back the tears but was failing.
Paul Pennants red face lost all color and his eyes began to turn a dark, stormy gray. Outside clouds came from nowhere and the once bright sunny day became dark and gloomy. A great feeling of intense sadness filled the air. It was so thick that you could almost feel it with your hands and grab it. It touched everything within several miles of the airport. The sadness grew in each and every person and many began to weep out loud rather than struggle with the darkening feeling.
"That makes me sad, Mr. McGee. You wouldn't like me when I'm sad."
"It's just that I loved that dog," sniffled Mr. McGee. "He was such a good dog I don't know how I'm going to make it without him."
Paul Pennant eyes grew almost black and his entire body just shook with sadness. His face was a gloomy gray color as the tears began to stream down. The western half a Supervania was now covered in a deep dark gloom. An incredible sadness overcame every living creature. Half the city's residents stopped doing anything because of the sadness that each individual felt.
And my wife," continued Quincy McGee still fighting back the tears. "Well -- uh -- she loved that dog more than me, and she began proceedings for divorce today..."
Paul a once largish man began to shrink. Tears were now pouring down his gray face streaming from his black eyes. He hunched down into Mr. McGee's chair and placed his face onto his hands. Some residents of the city sat in the gloom, while others tried to fight it by turning on their lights. They fought against the encroaching darkness. They attempted to play happy songs. A few even grabbed banjos because you cannot sing a sad song on a banjo. They tried to play their happy music for as many people as they could without electric amplification.
With all of this, Quincy McGee continued. "If that wasn't bad enough, you came in here and were totally rude to me and my staff..."
Paul shrank even more as he appeared to become a gray eight year old child. He put himself into the fetal position on the chair as the gloom swirled around the airport.
The Supervanian citizens attempted to stave off the encroaching doom as best they could. However, their fight became all for nothing as a blackout soon hit that half of the city. The America's Original Evil Ninja Cyborg Gas and Electric Company could not keep up with the demand and the city was enveloped in a deep dark gloom with nothing to fight against it. Yes, it was another day in...
Where Mr. McGee is a lamebrain-ia
He gave the entire city a migraine-ia
It’s Super Supervania.
About this Entry
This page contains a single entry by Douglas Gogerty published on January 15, 2006 12:41 PM.
"Terra Mortis II" - Chapter 17 was the previous entry in this blog.
"Terra Mortis II" - Chapter 18 is the next entry in this blog.
This blog is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
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