Burdy Pt. 1

May 12, 2008

"The road less travelled leads to paradise, sir."

Burdy stumped angrily across the cobbled road, wobbling precariously in the slight dew of the morning. He reached the opposite side of the street in due haste, half-crawling, half-limping in magnificent form. His unfocused eyes attempted to grab hold of the boy's silhouette and he failed to make out a singular image. Burdy anchored himself to a uncommonly hairy lamppost and finally enabled his brain to recognize the mountainous task ahead. The boy's utterly repulsive words were surely a result of ignorance.

His mind turned inward.

"What an awful metaphor, but then again, so has been my existence."

Having come to this logical conclusion, Burdy one again shifted his sloshing target at the market boy.

"My boy, you are a fool. You, in your youth, believe you can dash about the country, screaming 'Nietzsche lives. Nietzsche lives,' and proclaiming yourself to be the nation's Messiah. And why shouldn't you? In your fervor of mental fascism, you will destroy all semblances of theology and order in this land, and in your wake you will leave mere monuments of rubble and philosophy. My boy, despite your statuesque appearance, I shall take it upon myself to remove you from these streets."

It was an impressive speech considering the level of drunkenness Burdy was currently experiencing, and had his eyes followed suit with his tongue, he would have immediately spun round and made for the nearest pub. However, the sway of liquor upon a rare few is indeed curious. In Burdy's instance, a smart piece of tongue was loosened while his waning rationale remained particularly deranged.

The glorious rantings of the intoxicated fool were unfortunately lost to the quiet, uncaring passers-by of the morning and as Burdy attempted his muddled robbery of the boy's freedom, his slight mistake was made more clear. The hairy lamppost stepped slowly between the young boy and Burdy, nearly toppling the drunken professor, and placed a mammoth palm on the inebriated fellow's shoulder.

In a sluggish, even grotesque maneuver, the gorilla observed his new opponent.

Burdy's was thoroughly upset however, and instead of retreating honourably to the confines of his secure mind, he maintained his crumbling facade.

"And you, sir! The defender of the righteous I suppose? I quite hate to think of the tragedy that should befall your-"

It was at this interval, in a significant gesture (among the term's of Burdy at least), where the professor stumbled.

The ugly ape had removed his hand from Burdy's delicate academia and placed them humbly at his side. Where once there betrayed a look of defiance, there now stemmed worried exasperation - a wordly look on one so young, which startled the poor old man before him.

Burdy pounced.

"Ah! You see the childish fault laid bare. My word and Mary's, if I hadn't known you to consort with this ruffian preacher of wet ears I'd almost bestow upon you my beloved respect. However, your actions deserve no such compromise and therefore I shall remove my endangered soul from your combined ignorance."

Burdy rocked back on his heels in triumph (a horribly dangerous move in his present state), quickly righted himself, and waited to observe the coming unintelligent retort. Unfortunately for the aggressor, no such argument was to be issued. The gorilla spun slowly and with a scornful and apologetic gaze, muttered with a low grunt, "You was to not be yelling in public again, Laz."

These simple words struck the lad's core. His face drained of color and his confident gaze fell to the dirt. What little spirit he retained clung delicately to his heels as he retreated out of sight through a nearby alley. The giant remaining once again met the surely more intelligent eyes of Burdy.

"Well, I suppose apologies are in order then," rambled the embarrassed Burdy, "and seeing as you are in place of the boy, I shall accept your groveling the same as I should have admitted his."