First, I’d like to make the statement that this is in no way something that I would do. This is simply the product of a very humorous conversation my husband and I had while getting dinner tonight and it kind of snowballed into this. And even though I’d never do this, it’d be funny to stage it 😀
The little conference room was packed with reporters, publishers and editors, all pushing and shoving to get a premium spot near the front podium. The dull roar of voices all murmuring and cussing to one another. At the podium stood a woman in professional attire and smiling pleasantly to the crowd that had formed for her press conference. Her book had just been announced New York’s top seller for the tenth consecutive time and everyone wanted her thoughts on the matter.
Reports waved and tried to make themselves stand out against the rest as she began taking their questions. She answered humbly and politely to each one while still giving them a hint of humor with her responses. They all adored her and she couldn’t help but like the attention.
The conference was slowly drawing to a close when one reporter elbowed his way forward.
“Yes, you in the green sweater vest,” her attendant called out, pointing to the bold reporter.
“Mrs. Montgomery, in some of your lesser known reviews, the comment was made that some of your plots were very predictable and lacked suspense for the genre they were categorized in. Would you care to comment on that?” The reported poised his pen at the ready for her answer.
She blinked a few times and then her lips slowly curved into a sweet smile. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Joe. Joe Rider,” he replied a little sheepishly.
She nodded in recognition and then turned to glance at the side door of the conference room. She raised her hand and made a beckoning motion. The door opened and three men entered the hall. The heads of everyone in the room pivoted to this trio dressed in full Viking armor and garb of leather, fur and tattered linen. Two bore no weapon, but the tall warrior in the middle wielded a long, razor sharp sword that required two hands to hold it.
The reporters in the vicinity of the door pressed against their neighbors to give the Vikings the room they so rightly deserved. The eyes of these men were trained upon the author at the podium.
With one calm gesture, she singled out Mr. Rider and said, “Off with his head,” she demanded with such a cool smile that put the queen of hearts to shame.
Some of the attendees chuckled at the absurdity of the whole scene, but their laughter was cut short when the three Vikings set their sights upon Mr. Rider and rushed towards him with a ferocity that startled the crowd. Bodies fell over each other as they tried to clear the way for the raiders.
Joe Rider hardly knew what to do. Before he could find an avenue of escape, two of the Vikings seized him by the arms and dragged him easily to the front of the room where the author stood waiting.
Trembling and stuttering, Joe was faced with his executioner. The Viking with the long sword stood before him, sword gripped tightly between his massive hands.
“Kneel,” the Viking demanded.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Joe cried.
The two warriors at Joe’s side forcibly pushed him down to his knees. Joe whimpered as his weak knees hit hard against the tile floor. Sweat dripped down his temples and his eyes were wide with fear and disbelief.
The Viking raised his sword high above his head and a few screams could be heard across the hall as the blade came singing down towards the reporter’s neck.
Just as the blade was about to connect with skin, the author who still maintained her pleasant grin raised her hand. “Stop,” she said softly, but not too softly that the Viking didn’t hear her order. “I shall spare your life.”
As soon as the words left her lips, the two Vikings quickly let go of their captive and followed the executioner out through the door from whence they came. The crowd was deathly silent with incredulity, all staring at the mad woman at the podium.
With all the charm and elegance that she was known for, she leaned against the oak so as to see the dilated pupils of her reporter.
“Is that enough suspense for you, Mr. Rider?”