After Mrs. Mitty came out of the drugstore, they climbed into their automobile, Walter fastened his seat belt, turned on the windscreen wipers and carefully pulled away from the curb. As they drove out of Waterbury he noticed the car he had been searching for was now in viewing distance. Walter hit the clutch, and sped up, zooming past traffic. However now there were pursuers gaining on him, fast and armed. He avoided the bullets with his precise steering, and kept his eyes focused ahead, where his damsel in distress awaited for rescue. Dodging bullets along the way, Walter kept looking back at his GPS to see where his Pursuers, and the one who he was pursuing, were leading him to. The GPS stated that they were nearing an empty, and deserted lot. The cars internal phone system rang, and Walter quickly answered.
"I have a proposition for you, that could benefit both of us." said a raspy, unclear voice.
"I'm all ears." answered Walter.
After the discussion with his target was over, Walter instinctively knew this man was all talk, and no action. He had a huge Achilles heel, and Walter planned on abusing it. Now the cars entered the deserted lot, and Walter began slowing down, parking his car in the center, while the pursuers made a circle around him. Walter Mitty slowly opened his door, and stepped outside with his hands in the air.
"Hmph, you bunch of sorry dunces. I guess every dog has his day." mocked Walter.
The man behind the car Walter had been chasing finally stepped out. He seemed to be around his 40's. Slowly taking off his shades, he replied, "Same goes for you, Walter Mitty," he scowled, "I guess even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in awhile."
"You give yourself too much credit, comparing tracking you to a blind squirrel"
"Shut up!" he roared, "Now Walter Mitty, I will extract my revenge. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."
The man raised his gun to Walters forehead. "I came dressed to kill, Mitty."
Walter knew this was his last chance. He closed his eyes and worked up the courage to place his plan into effect. His lips began slowly moving, but not before he heard the click of the gun, and the loud, sharp noise of the bullet firing. Walter told himself subconsciously that he shouldn't have tempted fate.
A sharp pain suddenly seared in Walter Mitty's cheeks, as he awoke from his imagination startled. He looked over to the passenger seat to see a furious Mrs. Mitty fuming, and lecturing him about veering off the road and nearly causing an accident. Walter set himself straight, and drove his tediously long drive back home in silence, eventually pulling up to the curb of his house.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Bulls Vs Jazz '98 Finals Game 6
Game 6 of the NBA finals, the Delta Center packed, everyone in the stadium knew he was going to end up with the ball in his hands, no doubts in that matter. The Chicago Bulls knew is just as well, with the ball in the hands of Michael Jordan, a man who only becomes more unstoppable as larger the obstacles he faces become. The Jazz would learn of this in a heart shattering moment, where all the sweat and blood shed the entire season to get here, would be for nothing at a moments notice.
Michael had dominated the fourth quarter, scoring 16 on his own and carrying the offense for the finals minutes. His supporting players such as Scottie Pippen hampered by injuries, could only watch as he worked his magic on the offensive end. Time winding down quickly, he drove hard to the net scoring layup that made the difference in between catching up or being left behind. The Bulls were quick to return to the defensive, where Karl Malone finally sank under the extreme pressure emitting from Jordan's defense. He had been stripped, and with only seconds remaining in the clock, the Bulls were finally in a position to win.
The stadium was frozen in awe as they watched Jordan dribble the ball up the court, Jazz defense scurrying back desperately. The opposing team felt panic, everybody in the stadium knew when the ball was in this man's hands, he could spell doom for them. Bryon Russel from the Jazz tried occupying the lane Jordan was heading through. Michael faked towards the basket, Bryon bit, slipping, falling to the floor. Now he could only helplessly watch as time seemed to freeze, and he saw Jordan's body hanging in midair with a flawless form. The motion of the wrist came, and the 20 footer made its mark. The reality of the situation came crashing down on the Jazz, as they tried helplessly to make a miracle happen with a few seconds left.
It was all over for the Jazz, and the man that had lead them to their demise walked off the court nobly, with 45 points under his belt and his sixth Finals MVP, reaffirming his status as the NBA's greatest player.
Michael had dominated the fourth quarter, scoring 16 on his own and carrying the offense for the finals minutes. His supporting players such as Scottie Pippen hampered by injuries, could only watch as he worked his magic on the offensive end. Time winding down quickly, he drove hard to the net scoring layup that made the difference in between catching up or being left behind. The Bulls were quick to return to the defensive, where Karl Malone finally sank under the extreme pressure emitting from Jordan's defense. He had been stripped, and with only seconds remaining in the clock, the Bulls were finally in a position to win.
The stadium was frozen in awe as they watched Jordan dribble the ball up the court, Jazz defense scurrying back desperately. The opposing team felt panic, everybody in the stadium knew when the ball was in this man's hands, he could spell doom for them. Bryon Russel from the Jazz tried occupying the lane Jordan was heading through. Michael faked towards the basket, Bryon bit, slipping, falling to the floor. Now he could only helplessly watch as time seemed to freeze, and he saw Jordan's body hanging in midair with a flawless form. The motion of the wrist came, and the 20 footer made its mark. The reality of the situation came crashing down on the Jazz, as they tried helplessly to make a miracle happen with a few seconds left.
It was all over for the Jazz, and the man that had lead them to their demise walked off the court nobly, with 45 points under his belt and his sixth Finals MVP, reaffirming his status as the NBA's greatest player.
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