A diabolical mind

 As Logged By:


Agent Chase

Agent Chase's Mom


Agent Chase has fallen ill.

A snafu with a fart gun I presume.

Mommy's here to fill the bill

Until she's well and ready to zoom.


She got her diabolical mind from me.

If only she knew what was in store.

For now, let her laugh with glee.

Soon her dreams will be anything but a bore.


Of course, I knew my little Chase wanted some sanity cookies.  How could I not?  She gets her diabolical mastermind side from me.  That means I know what she's up to at all times.

I know about the stink bombs, I'm prepared for her attempts at getting me under her spell, but I let her think she's got me fooled.  That her tricks are anything but a treat.

Plus, they were chocolate.  Who wouldn't want chocolate cookies?  Honestly.

But, you see, there is more to inheriting a diabolical mind than simple, devious plans.  A fact I have yet to share with my little Chase.  When my diabolical mind was passed down to her, that meant she was going to get everything that came with it.

The good, the bad, and the freaky.

For, to truly have a diabolical mind, one must have a creativity so vast that it cannot be contained.  A diabolical mind creates ingenious plans of diabolical destruction, but also leaves the holder with dream filled nights of the uncanny, the WTF, and the WHAT!?!?!?!?
 
 For example:

A recent dream that I had the...  I can't bring myself to say pleasure, even if I'm being sarcastic.  I had the craziness to dream up a whopper the other night.  One that I'm still getting over.
 
I recently have been guilty of binge watching those videos by the firefighter guy from that Youtube thingy, Firefighter Chronicles.  Seriously, he has some great videos on what to do if someone goes into cardiac arrest or if you're alone and start choking.  Plus, there is something about fart jokes at one in the morning after a day of stink bombs and hair covered in baby food that makes me laugh harder than anything.
 
So, it would come as no surprise to have a dream about him...  
 
But to have a dream about him and my father, an old fashioned woodsman who barely moves, let alone shows any facial/emotional expressions of any kind. 

And what were they doing?!

Picture it:

These two large men are angry with one another, ready to fight to the death.  It can be seen in the glares on their faces and the clench of their fists.

Before any fighting can begin, though, they must first perform a pre-ceremonial river dance.  One that involves them facing each other and staring at one another nonstop.  Never blinking, yet continuing to river dance.

My father's lower jaw thrust out and slightly to the side with his lips parted just enough to see his teeth grinding together, all while the firefighter guy is doing his intense, wide-eyed stare that causes the ligaments and arteries in his neck to stick out like wings.  Which only happens in his videos when things are getting really intense.

Yet, all the while their feet are skipping and hopping about with arms straight down and glued to their sides.  Somehow managing to smack their feet together every once in a while so that they seem to be giving each other a high five with their feet.  Their faces getting redder as they show their anger.

An anger that can only be expressed properly in river dance form.



Previous Log:  Return of Cousin JimJim

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