I took a shower and put on a suit. I had a bowl of cereal and prepared myself for the meeting at a secret location downtown. I noticed that my unshaved face didn’t match the way I was dressed – the hero should look sharp on the day he is going to save the world.
I cut myself during shaving and had to swear a little. I was unharmed, but had to waste time washing away blood. I wouldn’t make it to my bus, but I laid a backup plan: A good old Caravelle (inherited from my uncle, Kjell) had to leave the garage on this day when I was about to save the world.
But the Caravelle wasn’t very reliable after all – at least it could have picked a better day to stall. Now it stopped, and I left it in a flower bed. I shouted for a taxi: ‘Come help me! I’m supposed to save the world!’
The taxi was a sauna, and the driver was a fan of 80’s Metallica (he looked like Otto Mann). But in the middle of the «Whiplash» * riff I became furious and scared, because Otto made a wrong turn, away from where I was going to save the world.
I jumped into the front seat and threatened ‘You must turn!’. He took me by surprise and kicked back with kung-fu. With whiplash all over and a dislocated shoulder I woke up in hospital, still partly anesthetized, high enough to scream: ‘The world! I must save the world!! Now!!!’
Sometimes fate is a doctor’s assistant who tie you to the bed and puts your life on hold. It all went askew from when I cut myself. It should never have happened. How am I supposed to save the world when I can’t even save the day?
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* from the album ‘Kill ‘Em All’ (Blackened Recordings, 1983)