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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 20 – Welcome to the Third World

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“Welcome to the Third World International Airport,”  the announcer said.  “We’d tell you what country you are in, but we don’t want to offend the 3.5 people reading this story.”

Inside the airport, Vicky and I walked through the hustle and bustle.

A boy ran up to me with a bundle of roses and yanked on my shirt tail.

“Mr. American sir!” the boy said. “Buy some flowers for your pretty wife!”

I looked at Vicky. She giggled. I grinned.

“She’s not my uh…OK kid. How much?”

“Five hundred US Dollars,” the boy said.

“Get outta’ here!”

“OK,” the boy said. “You drive a hard bargain. Five US dollars!”

“One US dollar!” I said.

“What?” the boy asked. “Your wife isn’t worth five dollars?”

A notorious skinfelt, Bookshelf Q. Battler (BQB) was so smitten with Video Game Rack Fighter (VGRF) that he shelled out five, count em, five big ones for some posies.   He really did.  Moths flew out of his wallet and everything.

A notorious skinflint, Bookshelf Q. Battler (BQB) was so smitten with Video Game Rack Fighter (VGRF) that he shelled out five, count em, five big ones for some posies. He really did. Moths flew out of his wallet and everything.

Damn it. Trapped by a little street vendor’s logic. I pulled a fiver out of my wallet and handed it to him. He gave the rose to Vicky.

“Why thank you, Ed,” Vicky said. “I’m flattered.”

We found a table and sat down.

“So,” Vicky said. “I told you I’m going to visit the Great Guru so I can ask him about the meaning of life. You never told me why you’re going to Pango-Tango.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, funny you mention it, I’m also trying to visit the Great Guru.”

Vicky’s beautiful eyes blossomed.

“You are?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you want to know the meaning of life too?” she asked.

I didn’t want to lie. But I didn’t want another Blandie on my hands either.

“My company,” I said. “Beige Corp. They sent me to uh…make a sales call. Yeah. That’s it. The Great Guru wants to by some beige products and accessories for his sanctuary.”

“Wow,” Vicky said. “Beige?”

“Yeah.”

“The Guru must have really boring taste.”

“Yeah.”

Vicky scratched her head.

“You know,” she said. “This might sound dumb, but I have no idea what to do now.”

“Me neither,” I said. “I just bought a ticket to “Somewhere in the Third World” because that’s the closest the airlines will take you to Pango-Tango.”

“Me too!” Vicky said. “Oh good! At least we’re both flying by the seat of our pants!”

“I was hoping there’d be a boat or a connecting flight or something once I

Seems trustworthy,

Seems trustworthy,

got here,” I said.

I felt a tapping on my shoulder. I turned around to find a goofy looking man wearing a brown leather bomber jacket. His eyes were covered by a pair of goggles.

“Did I hear you and your wife say you want to get to Pango-Tango?”

Will BQB and VGRF ever make it to Pango Tango?  And do they really want to trust this wacko?  More BQB and the meaning of life to come!

Copyright (C) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

Nerds with flowers and wacky pilot images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Bookshelf Q. Battler and the Meaning of Life – Part 19 – Is VGRF for Real?

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“She’s insane,” I said to the world’s greatest detective as he stepped out of my carry on bag and onto my tray table.

“Poppycock!” Holmes said. “She is a Video Game Rack Fighter! You are a Bookshelf Battler! You two were meant to be!”

Holmes suspects Vicky's on the level, that she is, in fact, a Video Game Rack Fighter...

Holmes suspects Vicky’s on the level, that she is, in fact, a Video Game Rack Fighter…

“I KNOW I am a Bookshelf Battler, but I only have her word that she’s a Video Game Rack Fighter,” I replied. “Carrying around beloved video game characters Carmine and Giuseppe in her purse? Please.”

“Might I remind you that you are carrying two of the fiction world’s foremost investigators in your carry on bag?” Holmes asked.

Watson popped out of my bag and started in on me.

“Mr. Bookshelf,” Watson said. “Your magical bookshelf is truly an awe inspiring mystery. But it never once occurred to you that there may be other enchanted media storage spaces out there?”

“Never crossed my mind,” I said.

“There’s only one way to solve this,” Holmes said as he leaped across the divide between my table and Vicky’s, then climbed into her open purse.

I looked over at Vicky. She was fast asleep. Her mouth was wide open, a little drop of drool pouring out the side. She was a light snorer. It was adorable. I had it bad.

“What are you doing?!” I asked.

“I shall simply locate the Sterotypical Italian Contractors and if they are real then Ms. Stratenhaus is telling the truth!”

“You can’t just go through her purse!” I said.

“Don’t worry!” Holmes said. “I am a detective!”

Holmes rumbled around inside the bag, then huffed and puffed as he struggled to pull out a very small, stiff and silent Carmine, only to drop him on the table in a haphazard manner.

“Careful Holmes!” Watson said. “You’ll give him a concussion!”

“You there!” Holmes said as he poked the tiny Carmine in the shoulder. “Borderline racist stereotype of an Italian contractor! Wake up, sir! You are among friends and no harm shall come of you!”

Carmine just laid there silently with a blank look on his face and a big smile.  He wore his trademark overalls and ball cap.  His face was mostly obscured by a big bushy beard.

“Are you deaf, man?” Holmes asked. “Wake up, I say!”

Watson jumped over to Vicky’s table, produced a tiny rubber mallet from his pocket, and lightly tapped Carmine’s knee with it. The most beloved video game character of all time refused to budge.

“Curious,” Watson said. “Either he’s quite adept at playing dead or he has terrible reflexes.”

“Put him back before she wakes up!” I said.

Holmes and Watson heaved Carmine back into Vicky’s bag, then returned to my tray table.

...BQB, on the other hand, opines that Vicky is one cart short of a full deck.  If he's the only one with a magic media storage space, then Vicky must just be some kook who thinks her action figures are real...

…BQB, on the other hand, opines that Vicky is one card short of a full deck. If he’s the only one with a magic media storage space, then Vicky must just be some kook who thinks her action figures are real…

“See?” I asked. “She talks to toys. She’s nuts.”

“Inconclusive!” Holmes said.

“How is that inconclusive?” I asked. “You whipped out Carmine and he didn’t move at all.  He’s clearly just a toy.”

“We’ve all been examined by your Aunt hundreds of times,” Holmes said. “We remain perfectly still. You are the only human we’ve ever revealed our true natures to, and I’d imagine that Ms. Stratenhaus’ video game friends feel the same way towards her.”

“This is going to be a long flight,” I said.

“Precisely the reason why we should be watching Pootie Tang!

 Will BQB ever learn the meaning of life?  Is Vicky really a video game rack fighter or is she nutsy cuckoo?  

And will Holmes ever get to watch Pootie Tang?

Find out as BQB and the Meaning of Life continues…

Copyright (C) Bookshelf Q. Battler and the Meaning of Life 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 15 – BQB’s Real Name

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BQB dies.  Lives.  He must search for the meaning of life.

Read Parts 1-5

BQB and his bookshelf characters talk.  Holmes and Watson want to help.

Read Parts 6-13

BQB flies Air Third World on a mission to visit the war torn nation of Pango Tango, where the Great Guru lives. BQB hopes to ask him about the meaning of life  On the plane, BQB meets a nerdy female video game enthusiast.

Read Part 14

“And so, in Monster Nightmare, if you chop up a thousand monsters with your chainsaw, you get a distinguished chainsaw valor award,” the pretty she-nerd explained.

“Naturally,”  I replied.  “I wouldn’t want to chop up all of those monsters for nothing.”

Vicky shows Ed her video game awards.

Vicky shows Ed her video game awards.

We talked for an hour.  Actually, she talked.  I listened.  Occasionally, I tossed out a witty comment, but she had the floor.

“Listen to me babble on and on about video games,” the woman said.  “I haven’t even bothered to ask you your name.”

She reached out her hand.  I shook it.

“Book…”

I stopped myself.  She was a stranger.  Best to use my given name, not my chosen name.  The magic bookshelf was a source of great power.  Knowledge of its existence was not to be shared with just anyone.

“Eduardo,”  I said.

“Nice to meet you, Eduardo,”  the woman replied.  “I’m Victoria.”

Victoria popped a piece of gum into her mouth and offered me a piece.  I took it and chewed it.  I wasn’t a big gum chewer but it had been so long since I’d been in the company of a beautiful woman that I was ready to do anything she asked me.

“Is that your full name?”  Victoria asked.

I laughed.

“No,”  I said.  “My full name is a bit of a tongue twister.”

“Let’s hear it,”  Victoria said.

“I’d rather not.”

“Come on,”  Victoria said.  “It can’t be that bad.”

“Eduardo Ricardo Papageorgio Von Finklestein.”

Victoria giggled.

“Yeah,”  I said.  “Book agents I queried laughed too.  ‘Good luck selling books with that moniker pasted on the cover!’ they said.”

“You’re a writer?”  Victoria asked.

“I was,”  I replied.  “I used to be.  I stopped.  I’d like to try it again.  It’s complicated.”

“Well, pleased to meet you Eduardo Ricardo Papageorgio Von Finkelstein,”  Victoria said.  “I’m Victoria Gloria Somersby  Stratenhaus.”

“Seriously?”  I asked.

“Seriously,”  she replied.  “But you can call me Vicky.”

“OK,”  I said.  “And you can call me Ed.”

“So tell me, Ed, why did you stop writing?”

“Um,” I said.  “I’d rather hear about this video game fixation of yours.”

“Oh,” Vicky said.  “Long story short, I used to design video games.”

I felt my heart skip a beat – in a good way.  I was in the company of a fellow artist.

“That’s amazing,”  I said.

“Yeah,”  Vicky replied.  “Have you ever heard of Sweet Destroyer?”

“Of course,”  I said.  “I used to have a mild addiction to it.”

“Most people do,”  Vicky said.  “I had an entry level job inputting the code that made the sweets shift around.  It didn’t pay much, but at least I was working in the field I loved.”

“Why’d you leave?”  I asked.

“The guy I was dating at the time dumped me,” Vicky said.  “Said he wanted a woman who was more grounded, down to earth, not living with her head in the clouds.”

“He wanted a girl who preferred a bland life over daydreams about video games?”  I asked.

“Yeah,”  Vicky said.  “How’d you know?”

“Just a wild guess,”  I said.

“So I gave up on video games and went to business school,”  Victoria said.

I broke out in a cold sweat.  Vicky’s story was hitting too close to home.

“Got an MBA,”  Vicky continued.  “I figured there was so much competition in the video game industry that I might as well try my hand at a more practical career.”

“How’d that work out?”  I asked.

“The best I could do was a job at Drying Paint Media,”  Vicky said.  “America’s Number One Producer of Drying Paint Videos.”

This episode of BQB and the Meaning of Life brought to you by Drying Paint Media

This episode of BQB and the Meaning of Life brought to you by Drying Paint Media

“Drying Paint Videos are in high demand?”  I asked.

“Sure,”  Vicky replied.  “People who buy paint want to know how its going to look on their walls when it dries.  Pretty boring work though.”

“At least you’re producing videos,” I said.  “That has to involve some creativity, right?”

“No,”  Vicky said.  “I don’t even get to do that.  I’m just the assistant to the assistant of the vice-president for corporate assistance.”

I felt like I was going to faint.

“Are you alright, Ed?”  Vicky asked.

“Yes.”

“Your face just turned as white as a ghost,”  Vicky said.

“Yeah,”  I said.  “I’m….I’m not really a fan of air travel.”

“Me neither,”  Vicky said as she stood up.  “In fact, excuse me for a moment, I have to go powder my nose.”

I sat back in my seat.  I smiled.  I felt my heart burst.  

Finally, I met someone who could relate to what it was like to be me.

I was feeling euphoric.

And then that feeling came to a grinding halt when I heard two muffled British voices coming from inside my bag.

“Holmes, I don’t think this is a very good idea,”  one of the voices said.

“Watson, stop being such a ninny!”  the other voice replied.  “Simply grab a pair of headphones when Mr. Battler is not looking and then we can revel in the comedic genius that is Pootie-Tang!”

Wow.  A big reveal – Bookshelf Q. Battler’s real name.  A juicy piece of information that our hero’s enemies would love to get their hands on.  Thank God only 3.5 people read this damn thing.

Join us next time on BQB and the Meaning of Life!

Copyright (c) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

Images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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