Sunday, May 20, 2018

Roper 33 - Ditching The Mandrake

What always puzzled me with chicks is that, whatever constellation of conditions make this happen, once it makes "click" in their heads and they get the hots for a guy they get a filter appears between their eyes and brain.

I`ve seen pearls cast themselves to swine convinced that their prince was a mix of Jesus, Albert Schweitzer and a Boss model. 

Sometimes some filthy bastard could gleefully blend a litter of kittens and the girl in question would smile and mentally warp the structure of reality.

And come up with something like "He is expressing his art, isnt he just dreamy?"

I have seen this before, often, and it happens mostly to intelligent, well educated girls.

But this?

This was ridicilous!

L. knelt at The Mandrakes feet and tied them together with a simple & elegant looking knot. The Mandrake sat, demurely if you can believe it, her hands tied with a similar knot and smiling up to L. as if he had established a direct line to her...well, everything.

L. , blushing fiercly, kept on stammering about the history of this particular knot (How god awful nerdy...) and that it originated from three-legged races during the Victorian era.

The Mandrake smiled and nodded with a "tell me more" glow on her face.

Time to stop this.

I pulled L. up by his elbow while he kept starring at the floor.

"So, you just went to toilet. We switched off all electricity, windows are open, your lappy and smart watch is in your room. We run off now and call the coppers at the same moment we are off the ferry in about, uhm, 3 hours. Oh, and there are Croissants ready in the oven. You ok down there?"

She tested her restraints and purred "Oh, I`ll be fine!"

Smiling up at L. "Take care now big guy!"

"Bye!" L mumbled and managed to look at her for a second before I dragged him out.

We came about 100 m down the dirt road when he braked his expensive looking bicycle, liberated from The Mandrakes house, so violently that pebbles flew 10-20 m. 

He starred at me for second and did a 180, racing back to the house.

I just stood there, starring at his back while he made a sharp turn to the left. On to the summerhouses front lawn and out of my view.

Ten minutes later he came back, grinning stupidly.

"How`s life Romeo?" I asked.

"Just wondered if she was comfortable `n all that...mumble mumble"

We cycled the to the town of Tårs where we bought ferry tickets to the other side of the Great Belt to the town of Spodsbjerg. 

About 45 minutes from our hometown.

We gave the tickets to some German hitchhikers and went to the local red cross shop for some new clothes.

Budding stockholm-syndrom romance or not: I trusted that The Mandrake would tell the police where we would go. I would be very surprised if not.


L. followed up on the news feed via the FM radio on his antique brick of a telephone.

Apparently we did what legions of social workers and police did not manage..we single handed ended the Nordic Rocker War by unifying pretty much every large biker club.

Against us.

Our plan was simple: Running.

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