Oh, god.
I’ve challenged Camels With Hammers to a duel.
The weapon: Philosophy.
The place: The Field of Free Will.
The time: Now.
And I’M NOT READY!
With the slap of my challenge glove still stinging on his face, lightning-quick Daniel Fincke whipped out his rapier and carved a 2,600-word attack onto my chest! The agony!
The worst of it is, I never completed my training in Philosophy. I was first in my class in Bookish Nerd. Achieved gold-star speckled certificates of merit in Internet Addiction. Gained royal notice in my teen years and achieved a widely-lauded Knighthood in Masturbation Fantasy. Won a Gold Medal in the 2010 Atheist Olympics.
But Philosophy? I’m a complete amateur. And I’m facing a Jedi Master.
Just in his first attack, he has overcome my guardian droids, escaped the Mighty Sarlacc, and freed the princess.
I stand alone now, barely armed, quivering under his proudly lifted chin, the confident glow of his Philosopher-Academic aura, the earnest intent of his poised verbal blade.
Now what? I can’t run. Can’t fight him on his own ground. Sweet Baby Jesus, if only I’d kept my big mouth shut.
But wait! I’m suddenly remembering something my former Master — Gary Leffew, 1970 World Champion Bull Rider — taught me:
“If You Can’t Dazzle ‘Em With Brilliance … Baffle ‘Em With Bullshit!”
Ha! This I can do.
“Hold, Mighty Sir Daniel! I beg a brief delay, whilst I mop up the blood, and fetch my shovel.”
— To Be Continued —