Round And Round They Go

It's an overcast, chilly day as I pull into the apartment complex. Following the road as it arcs around until, in the rear corner, I reached the building I wanted. I pulled into a parking space, but don't see his car. Maybe he's not back from work yet? I hope he's not out on inspections, it'll ruin the surprise. No harm in trying, though.

I step from the car, and walk to the back to open the trunk. I remove a large case, with some difficulty, and carry it into the open lawn in front of the building, setting it down. Returning to the car, I remove a smaller box, cardboard, heavily taped together, and carry it up the stairs. At the door I knock lightly. No sounds from within. I press an ear to it, trying to hear him sneaking around inside. Is he really not here? I'm more disappointed than I thought I'd be, but I was actually anticipating this confrontation eagerly.

"He's not here."

I turn back to the top of the stairs, to see a round, furry, black-and-white shape crouched there, watching me intently. The panda, of course. Maybe this is their plan, to have the panda confront me here, draw my attention, while Calvin waits for an opening? I grin. Maybe there'll be some fun after all. I take on my most mock-innocent expression. "Oh, he's not? Well, how unfortunate I was so late arriving. Let's discuss this further insid-"

Even as I finish the sentence, the panda is smashing into me, driving me over the railing. I manage to shove it away, and twist so as to not land on my neck. Still, the ground is muddy and this jacket is probably ruined. This is why I would have rather waited until we were indoors to fight.

"You aren't getting past the front door, Pollock, not this time! I've been waiting three days! I'm cold and wet, and I'm gonna take it out on you!" Well, that's more aggressive than normal. I shouldn't have been so tardy, it sounds like.

"Wait, wait. Don't you want to see what cool science thing I brought to use this year?" That stops it for a moment. Curiosity is almost as effective against the panda as doubt.

The panda folds its arms across its chest. "I hope it's better than your lame plan from last year. Your weak threats as you ran away were more dangerous."

I would have protested I don't even make threats as I run away, but I was too indignant about the other part. "I used a phone that was also an independently operating taser! It's extremely popular among people afraid of getting mugged. And given the power demands for the taser, the battery lasts for a decade if you just use it as a phone! No recharging necessary."

I narrowly dodged a kick to the head. "I don't need to hear a sales pitch, I was here last year," the panda jibed, as I retreated for the large box in the yard. "A walking taser might help with muggers, but it won't get you past me."

I reached the crate. "Very true, the phone wasn't enough last year, and our updates this year were more concerned with network security than agility. So I brought this."

I step on a lever at the bottom of the box, and the top flies open as all four sides fall away. A mass of metal begins to expand, reconfiguring into a basic human shape, with a comfy leather seat in the center, which I hop into. I take a moment to savor the slack-jawed gape on the panda's furry mug.

"It's our new mobility enhancer for the elderly or otherwise physically limited. It's a nice perk it'll also work to pound you into the mud."

The panda scrambles up to the walkway for safety. "Oh yeah, how you gonna get me from down there?" It waggled its butt as a taunt, but coming from a panda, it's just too cute to be angered by. Besides, I had the answer, raising the right arm, and with the press of a button, it extended, capturing the panda in its grasp in an instant. "For when you need to grab something off a high shelf."

The panda gasped, "What shelves are you trying to get things from?!"

"Well, what if our customer needs a new recliner from one of those big box stores? Are they supposed to wait until an employee wanders along, get their attention, then wait for them to return with a forklift? Their time is valuable and limited, why do you want them to waste it?"

"I'm not, eh, nerts to this." The panda inhaled sharply and slipped free. Look I was trying hard to be gentle. 'May crush pandas' is a bad tagline for most any product. Other than Murder, Inc., and their Panda Juicer. Still, I'm disappointed my attempt to make the panda doubt itself didn't work better. I need to give that trick a rest, perhaps.

As the panda landed neatly on the ground, I reached for it again, only to come up empty-handed. Unless you count some mud, which seems to be clogging the joints. The fingers were sticking. The panda circled warily.

I prepared my next stroke. "Expanding arms aren't the only feature. Check out the Whippersnapper-dismissing nose flick!" The left thumb and forefinger touched ends and reached forward, only for the forefinger to suddenly snap free and turning the panda into a furry projectile that rattled the sliding door of the neighbor below Calvin. "Guaranteed to humiliate any kid into accepting the terrible hand the prior generations have dealt them! Or, pulverizing them. Either way, it gets their noses out of their phones, right?"

Sigh and shake of the head in response. "You sell smartphones! And that whole thing is divisive and stupid!"

I shrug. "I know, but you have to play to your customer base. And I can supply both sides."

"War profiteer, eh? I'll settle your hash!" Again the panda scrambled up the stairs, then to the roof and out of sight.

"Settle my hash? How many cheap detective movies are you watching with Calvin?" Further comments on his archaic statements were interrupted by a roar and the panda rising into the air with a trail of flame behind. Coming from a familiar jetpack. My old jetpack. What the hell?!

The panda projectile hurtled right at me, only to bounce off the clear bubble dome surrounding me. If luck was on my side, the bounce would have sent it into the ground. Instead it went straight up, resuming the wary circling, albeit at a higher altitude.

"Climate controlled bubble canopy," I gloated a little as the sun comes out and the canopy darkened. "And it changes its shade in response to the ambient light like those glasses you see on TV."

"Oh come on! Although that is a thoughtful touch." It roared past very low, splattering up mud across my vision and the rest of the exosuit.

"Thank you. The design team was very proud of that." As I heard the jetpack roar past again, then shoot up into the sky, I made a note that we should add a windshield wiper as the arms weren't having much luck clearing the mud. The right arm in particular, was growing increasingly unresponsive. But the top of the canopy was clear, and through it, I saw the trail of the jetpack's exhaust arcing back behind me. I tried to swivel, but the mud and the grit seems to be jamming the gears. And the sound of the jetpack was growing louder.

Sigh. One more thing to give the design team notes about. Well, at least we installed an ejection seat. The designers argued for airbags, but that would leave you right next to the explosion, so what good would that do? As I was launched into the air, the panda rolled so the jetpack was below, unhooked itself and jumped as the pack and the suit erupted into flame.

Our momentum was carrying us towards each other, so I grabbed some fur, twisted, and hurled it towards the ground. It bounced off the roof of the little structure that housed all the mail slots, and then splatted in the mud. I landed less nimbly than I would have liked at the edge of the lawn. By this point, several dogs were barking, and neighbors were starting to come out to gawk. The panda rose, undaunted, and looked at the pyre.

"I know a coyote that's always trying to catch a roadrunner. Do you guys sell him his equipment?"

I started forward, getting a little irritated now. "Pardon me for not building the mobility assist to survive an RPG!"

"You have to know people are going to buy them to do dumb things like mech fights and lifting cars." OK, got me there.

"Wait, where did you get my jetpack from?"

"The raccoons found it where you left it when it ran out of fuel. I got it for 500 pieces of pointy metal, 20 pounds of peanut brittle, and 100 wrenches."

"You gave wrenches to raccoons? Are you mad? They'll dismantle entire towns!"

"I don't think they're that destructive, not when - "

"What are you idiots doing?" stated a tired voice from above us. We both looked up, and saw Calvin, with a suitcase and sleeping bag, regarding us from in front of his door. He glanced at the fiery pile of twisted metal. "Did someone bump a Ford Pinto with a baby stroller?"

Why was I excited about this visit again? "Very topical. How do you even know about Pintos?"

"Well see, I read these things called "boooooooks", so I can learn about things that happened even if I wasn't present. Or perhaps it's witchcraft. Booga-booga. Moron."

The panda gawked. "Calvin, where have you been? I was worried!"

"I took the week off to go vacation in nowhere. Why were you worried? You think Pollock killed me?"

Does he really think I'd do that? Where's the fun? OK, there was that one time in Kentucky! And now my health insurance premiums are higher because ghost attacks are considered a pre-existing condition. Haven't I suffered enough?

The panda replied, "No, I thought maybe you slipped getting out of the shower and hit your head."

Calvin dropped his bags and threw his hands in the air. "I'm not Hal Jordan! Give me a little credit! Sheesh. I hope these chocolate-covered cherries on my doorstep will raise my spirits, or I'll have to go on another vacation."

"Calvin wait, those were left by - " Too late, Calvin popped one into his mouth and bit down, then immediately began gagging and retching. The panda tackled me and started punching. "What did you poison him with? Give me the antidote, now!"

This got out of hand. Ouch. When the panda sits on me, I can really tell how much bigger it's gotten. The punches have a lot more force behind them, too. I struggled to explain. "No poison - just mayo."

That worked. The punches stopped, and I watched the eyes fill with curiosity. Then they turned to look at Calvin, still coughing and scraping his tongue. "Calvin? Is it mayonnaise?"

"Yes," came the strangled reply. "Oh God, it's terrible! And South Park joked about doing this 15 years ago!"

The distraction was enough for me to sucker punch the panda and roll away and to my feet. "I thought you'd enjoy that aspect of it."

The panda rubbed its cheek as it watched me retreat to my car. "You went through all this for a cheap gag like that?"

"Do you know how much that exosuit cost? Nothing cheap about it. Except the protection for the joints to keep them from getting clogged up. We may have cheaped out there. But this was valuable product testing!"

The panda trundled up the stairs to get Calvin some water, as I dove into my car. I looked up at the stairway, though the two of them were out of sight at the far end. The part about product testing was true, although I had expected the exosuit to be damaged somehow. It always goes that way.

I'm sure they'll count it as a win, since I never even made it into the apartment. But the part I didn't mention was that this is like an annual vacation for me. A chance to cut loose and be silly, messing with those two. I can fight, tumble, insult, and not worry about shareholders or complaints being filed with HR. At that moment, the box came sailing through the air and hit the windshield, chocolate and mayo everywhere. I smiled. It's fine, even the parts that aren't ideal make me appreciate the things that go smoothly back at work. And unlike the suit, my car does have windshield wipers.

Although that mayo is proving difficult to clean off. . .