Cornel West and the Magic Beans

Lady came up to me and she was tall.  

Very, very tall.  

Like maybe 11 feet tall.  

She was wearing a sort of Viking helmet, but she wasn't wearing any underpants.  Which was shocking, given what time of year it was.    

Anyway, she offered me my weight in garnets and magic beans if I dropped out of the race.   And garnets, as you know, contain more occult power per ounce than any other semiprecious stone. 

But then there was a mighty flash and a clap of thunder, and the archangel Michael appeared to me.

And the archangel Michael -- or, "Mike".  He said I should call him "Mike" -- warned me not to take the deal.  

That I was being tempted by Beelzebub, but that he would protect me.  

He said to be double sure, I'd better let him hold all my valuable possessions.  My lucky thimble, my expired Harvard Divinity School cafeteria discount card, my as-yet unproduced script "Matrix V:  The Matrix is Devious and Repugnant",  and such.

And that's how I lost my wallet officer.

Burn The Lifeboats