Billions Of Billious Blue Blistering Barnacles

It happened on a Saturday.

Our protagonist The Not-So-Lucky Irishman had just bought half of the supermarket and was going home. The rain gods were smiling . It was beautiful.

It was drizzling outside.  Not the stinging drizzle , but the soft raindrops from heaven. The world felt like a kaleidoscope. He was the ruler of all that is chirpy and wet. He was literally “cantering” his way home. A spring in his step.

And then he saw her. The damsel in distress. There was this poor girl trying to change her tire (He assumed a puncture was the culprit.) .She was still wearing her helmet, which made him wonder if she had boinked Darth Vader.

He  shoos such thoughts outside. The Walter Raliegh inside him had awakened. He sprinted to help her.

This is where the Utopia got distorted.

He went up to her and asked her in his deepest of voices (as if this would make her think of him as Sean Connery, though now that I think of it , it sounded more like Darth Vader ..) if she needed any help . He was expecting a loving ,grateful gaze.  She took off her helmet.

His Juliet turned out to be the Ms.Darth Vader herself.

She lashed out at him with a flurry of adjectives not suitable for anyone, let alone a rather hot looking female. I don’t exactly remember what she said, It’s a bit like “Joker” for me- One time I remember it this way, one time some other way..

But it went a bit like this  (Heavily censored version)-

What!? I don’t need any help. You guys. You see a girl and you have make a move. Rascals.

Now usually the first one to talk back, I was too flabbergasted to reply, my faith in the feminity diminshed, the chivalry knocked out of me with one solid Ali style punch.

And this was the end of the Walter Raeligh inside me….