Wednesday, September 24, 2003

Today’s Word: Deus Ex Machina

Simon Kidd stared up from the bottom of the fifty foot pit. His arch nemesis, Clive Reginald, smiled down at him, and even lifted his wine glass in salute. Kidd might have saluted back (with one finger at least), but his hands and feet were bound by chains to the stone floor.

"It has been a wonderful chase, old chap," said Clive, "but I'm afraid the ride is over." He signaled, and foaming white water began gushing from four large vents set in the rock wall.

Kidd searched his surroundings for any tool he might use on the chains. Nothing. Reginald's bodyguards had taken his semi-automatic pistol, laser earring, sterling silver bracelet with mini electric hacksaw, and even his faux gold tooth with the diamond edged cutting surface. After all his many escapes, in every corner of the world, it looked like Kidd was finally going to come up short.

A tiny pop, like the sound of a very small firework, echoed from the roof. Reginald looked up just in time to receive a boot to the teeth. He reeled backwards and out of Kidd's view. A figure, dressed head to heel in black, landed in a squat at the pit's edge. A couple of Reginald's flunkies tried to accost (him?), but the figure dealt with them handily.

With the fluid movements of a skilled dancer, the black figure dove into the pit, which was now filled almost to Kidd's waist with water. The black figure broke the water's surface, and his head connected instantly with the stone floor, breaking his neck with an audible crack.

Kidd sighed. So much for Deus ex machina.

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