The Oven Mitt Chronicles- based on true events by the housebaby... and a little bit by the creator (day 1)
For a long time I wanted to wear an oven mitt out in public. I first got my feet wet with this idea while walking
to a friend's house down the street. My mother thought it was a Michael Jackson glove.
Today I met the challenge. I walked to the Library and Grocery Store while wearing an oven mitt. There was a mixed emotion about whether or not to put
the glove into the library return box, thinking it would definitely be the most random thing that has appeared there.
At first I was excited and a little apprehensive, but things went well. Only one person said anything about it. He asked why I had a oven mitt on.
I said "It's a fashion statement." He proceeded to make fun of me in a girly voice.
The whole time I had the choice to show it or hide behind me... I f'ing showed it.
I awoke with a dampness of sweat in my glove. It had been 18 hours since my hand had been exposed to the cold air.
The sun shone through the window, as a sign it was my duty to make another excursion to the market.
I walked down the stairs and opened the door and the morning air was crisp. Suddenly! A car sped across the parking lot.
A drive-by! I hit the ground, bullets flew all around me, just inches from my head.
I had to think fast, I rolled over behind a pillar and waited for the bullets to stop. All of a sudden, the car went in reverse but did not shoot.
I heard a car door open and boots hit the ground... their steps grew closer and closer... all I had was my mitt.
I glanced up and saw the roughed up man with leather boots and a cow-boy hat. He said in a low raspy voice "so... yur the one they call oven-head?"
I was trembling but I knew I had to play it cool. "yea? what do you care?" The man said "I hate ovens..." he pulled out his colt 45. and aimed it at me.
"you ain't gonna live to bake another meal" I swat at his hand with my mitt and he collapsed onto the ground writhing in pain.
"you ain't gonna live to shoot another oven-head" I told him and swat one final blow... he was finished.
I hurriedly walked away in the direction of the super market.
I went through my morning routine, my hand was soggy and the sweat had caused the mitt to feel crunchy and hard, it had been 42 hours now and a lot
has happened. The market had once again called me to arms and I set off. upon arrival I felt as if something was
off. As I approached the fruit section, all the lights shut off. I looked through the skylights and realized the swat team was coming down on ropes.
Everyone was screaming and in panic, all except me... I had known they were coming for the mitt! I ducked down and crawled under a fruit table.
I noticed a girl next to me, she had a beret on with a feather sticking out of it, I quickly stole it without reason and dashed for the door.
The morning light had not quite shown itself and it was dark outside still, but as I exited the building I was surrounded by a blinding light. A chopper?
I had no time to question and ran towards the nearest car. it was a minivan and I unlocked it with my mitted hand, through some kind of oven miracle, the
keys were still in the ignition... in fact the kids were still in their car seats and the father was still in the seat! A fool I was! I was a fool without time,
I slammed on the gas and we sped wildly down the isle of the parkinglot, the father was very angry and I was sitting on his lap.
I swat at him with my mitt and it landed on his nose... he was out cold. we drove over the curb and onto the main road, sirens wailing in the background
and kids screaming in the frontground. I decided to scream, it seemed like a good decision until I realized there was no benefit to it... I was trapped, with nothing but my mitt.
Smash! we burst through the doors of a CVS mart and I climbed out of the door window which had broken from the impact as the door was wedged between the automatic doors.
I knew trouble was afoot but I grinned all the same. Cops and swat team soldiers surrounded the whole building from all angles, the front entrance was blocked off and I made my way to the back
to secure the emergency exit. I then ran into isle 13 and grabbed lipstick and turned my lips bright red... to show the cops that I was not scared.
I then put a blanket on my back as a cape and took a skateboard and ran to the back door, BLAM! I punched it with my mitt and the force was so great
it pushed all of the soldiers back onto the ground. Through the dust I emerged with my cape fluttering behind me, the vacuum caused the dust to trail behind me in a glorious wave of power.
Zig zagging in between soldiers, I pushed my way through... bullets skimmed my clothes and my cape, but I didn't care... Faster and faster my skateboard went.
As soon as I went speeding down the main road again, cop cars formed a blockade, I had no choice but to go through, I bent down and thrusted my mitt into the side panel of a cruiser and went right
through the car... it had split in half, and the shock wave flipped the oncoming swat vans onto their side as the helicopter lost control and smashed into the gas station, the spotlight was no longer on me
and I drifted quietly into the darkness, back to the quiet apartment.
It had been a groovy morning this day. The cold air that had blown into the oven mitt helped ease the moisture building up. It had been 96 hours since my hand was first encased into the mitt.
My hand had a white oily substance building up on my fingers which were extremely wrinkled. I peeked out the window blinds, "sunny as can be" I thought... maybe I should go to the market soon. I went for the lights, but the photons I hoped for
didn't have enough electrons, the power was out. As I left my home I noticed an eerie silence that had befallen the still apartment complex, I came outside and the outside had become devoid of life. There were no birds chirping
merrily, there were (for once) no cars whizzing by, and no friends to smile at... the ground as I approached the street corner had a thin layer of grey silt and ash, I looked up and noticed the carcass of a once popular gas-station dead, with black smouldering embers silently crying
at the loss of their building. As I look to my left, I see a pile of abandoned cop cars pummelled and scattered across the roadway... the pools of green and black fluids remind me of a transient oasis in which space and earth collide.
At any rate, I continued the journey towards the market, not a car in the lot. I entered the store, although I had to push the automatic doors open with my hands... The light peering through the broken skylights provided me with enough light to shop.
Atleast the fruits (including Rambutan) were untouched, I filled my bag with about 20 good ones and went on my way. The registers were empty and the self checkout units were off, the light rays shown through the dust settling from the ceiling, and life seemed more
beautiful when it is devoid of the rushing hyperactive unsteadiness of electricity... I felt calm. I stepped through gap in between the doors after placing money on the counter, I decided I much preferred the calmness and simplicity of this environment compared to
modern life, it is more natural. Walking back up the side walk I had came I heard a noise... It probably wasn't very loud, but in a world of silence it was as loud as gunshots, they were footsteps, dragging along the pavement. I turned to look and saw a simple man,
dressed in rags. Which humoured me slightly, as I was dressed similarly. (It's 1:30 AM so I can't finish)