Obsession: A James and Cindy story.
The paragliders descended through the morning sky of Los Angeles.
"Pick up the pace, Cindy!" James shouted over his mike, his normally laid back manner replaced by one any former soccer team member of Coach Kim Possible would note.
And then they would run, or cry, but whatever.
"I am…" Cindy said, "Would you prefer we just dump the gliders and go splat?"
"No- that would ruin our mission."
"Mission?"
"It's a vital one."
"You didn't tell me!"
"Classified."
"From ME?" The 15 year old said, her voice reminding all and sundry that she was Shego's daughter, even if the green eyes, dark hair with green highlights and an unfortunate tendency to plasma flambé irritants somehow failed to register in the observers eyes.
"It was very high level…I only just found out about it and was able to get tick-, er, clearance."
"Were you about to say tickets?" Cindy said. "Tickets to what, James?"
"No time, coming in for a landing…" James said, as Cindy landed by him, expertly dumping her velocity. Then she realized what it was…what their target was.
"You have got to be kidding me." She said, looking up at the distinctive structure of Mann's Chinese Theatre. "James, please….PLEASE tell me you didn't burn a favor to see some movie."
"Nope!" James said, happily. "Not just some movie! They're running," He said, the light of true love (or madness) burning in his eyes, "The complete, uncut, restored from the original prints…."
Not some stupid western, please not some stupid western…
"The ICONIC Spaghetti western series." James continued, "the Man With No Name—they're running them back to back: A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars more, and of course, the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly." He smiled, "I got us front row seats!"
"I… I don't know what to say." Cindy said, looking out in the direction where if there were no buildings, one might see the beach. A beach that you didn't have in Middleton. No, she didn't know what to say. She did know that blowing her friend through a wall and running off with an inarticulate scream would get her grounded.
"Great!" James said, "And even better, they have the old intermission pauses—we won't have to miss even a second of the show to get snacks! Just think of it… almost 9 hours of western goodness, especially if we count the trivia contest!" He said, as he went practically bouncing up to the booth to give his pre-purchased tickets.
"Trivia contest….greatttt…." Maybe I could get back home…babysitting the gremlins couldn't be this-Cindy remembered the unfortunate incident with the plasma proof sillystring and Dad asking her why she was imitating a piñata. Yes, as horrible as it was, it would be as bad as this. The 15 year old year old High School Junior groaned. "James…"
"Yeah?" James said as they entered the lobby.
"Don't you think this is a bit obsessive, even for you?"
"How?"
"Westerns…why are you interested in westerns?!" Cindy grumped, "It was a time full of smelly, nasty people, women couldn't vote, and the average gunfighter's impulse control makes Uncle Killigan look like a good loser!"
"Well…" James said, "You just have to understand it….don't worry, if you don't, when we get home I can show you Pale Rider."
"I've seen it."
"Not like this—now it has my comments annotated to it, proving that Preacher is indeed the same character we're about to see!" James pointed a finger up, "And victory is mine!"
Cindy moaned. Don't fight it, just hope he outgrows it…
"Fine James…let's go see it…."
"And," James said, "In return… we can stay at Justine's house tonight and hit the beaches tomorrow…it's supposed to be a long weekend vacation, after all."
"Okay, that's why I keep you around." Cindy told her friend.
"My genius?"
"Your sense of self preservation." She said, "C'mon, let's go see your hero shoot up a few more nations…again."
"I haven't seen these shows that often."
"You can quote them from memory!"
"But I can't quote the director's commentary from memory…therefore, I haven't seen them enough."
"sigh."
End.