In the haze of the alley, on his way to meet a new companion at a fancy restaurant, the only thing Ted can make out is a gun, pointed like a singing sister right at his face. Frightened as a rabbit, he raises his noodle-like arms, similar to a two-headed buoy.
“Don’t shoot,” he cries as if being bansheed by a sentient whip. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“What I want,” the masked figure replies, cool as an unbrined pickle, “is for you to sweat like a kid with an overactive thyroid. And I’m already getting that.”
The instigator’s next move is functionally deliberate, like the singular ‘fuck’ in an episode of Breaking Bad. He takes his long fingers and pokes Ted right in the nostril, which is wider than a nation, then proceeds to laugh like a hyena. The pain is less than expected, like the amount of water you think you’ll need to get all of the falafel mix covered in water.
While Ted snaps back to reality, in the same way that Eminem did after vomiting up his mother’s pasta dish, his bully is already moving on to his next move. He picks his victim up by the bootstraps and hangs him like a hanger from the nearby dumpster. And then he just walks away.
Ted is left dangling like a participle, but other than that he’s unharmed, and also unrobbed, like the Trailer Park Boys when Ricky went on vacation. Relieved as a senna’d sphincter, Ted manoeuvres his way back down to earth like Chris Rock, before considering what he just went through. With no real harm done, the situation is baffling, kind of like how the video for Runaway Train helped find dozens of missing children and yet there was no sequel.
He inches his way to the street like a worm as the sun’s rays poke his eyes much like the stranger’s finger did to his nose a minute ago. Shaken as a poorly-made martini, he doesn’t want this to affect his date. Even with what had happened, he remains feistier than a hippo’s libido before a Mets game, and he knows he needs to be as smooth as an ice cream lemonade trickling down a frog’s gullet. So as he finally approaches the entrance to the restaurant, all he can do now is simile.