The Adventures of Harry Manboobs: Part 10

Harry made his way around the back of the Area 51 Walmart, having just buried Agent Bowzer in a pile of bicycles and manboobing another agent.  He was somewhat torn about escaping from the United States government, as he knew that by doing so he would be a marked man for the rest of his life.  He had never lived his life on the run, and never imagined he would be in this predicament. 

Had Agent Bowzer not been such an insufferable puke, he might have tried to play along.  Agent Finney seemed nice enough, and Harry realized that the government had good reason to be concerned that the ButtRay could fall into the wrong hands, but they were holding him against his will and treating him like a common criminal.  And Harry wondered what they might do to him if they came to the conclusion that he wasn’t to be trusted with the ButtRay.  The thought had occurred to him that he might be killed and buried in the desert, or worse, that he would be held prisoner in Area 51 for the rest of his life.  Or worse yet, they might try to extract the ButtRay, which sounded really painful.    

But right now, he didn’t have time to think about all of this.  He had to get back to the car in front of the Walmart.  And then he remembered that Agent Bowzer had the keys.  There was no way that Harry was going back in to get them.  He would have to find another way. 

Harry hid behind a stack of boxes as he considered his options.  He knew that he couldn’t continue on foot.  Even though he had the physical stamina to run for about 50 miles, the desert was wide open and he would be easily spotted by helicopter.  He needed some transportation, and he needed it now.

That’s when Harry heard the familiar whine of a motorcycle engine.  Harry had been into motorcycles since he was a kid.  He had several of them at home.  The one he was hearing now sounded just like his Yamaha R-1, one of the fastest production bikes ever made.  Harry moved out from behind the boxes and peeked around the corner of the building.  He could see the bike turning into the parking lot, and his ears had proven right – it was an R-1.  And it was headed straight toward him.

The man riding the bike was another agent.  Harry assumed he was an agent because of the clothes that he was wearing - a black suit like all of the other agents he had seen in Area 51, plus the telltale government-issue sunglasses. 

Harry began to sprint toward the bike.  The rider gunned it.  Apparently there was an APB put out among all of the agents about Harry’s recent escape and this agent had come to the Walmart to help capture Harry, who was easily recognizable in his Speedo.  It was hard to miss his menacing manboobs as well.  The two converged and Harry made a flying leap, scissor-kicking the agent off the bike.  Harry was on him like green on a pickle and before the agent could fight back, Harry had him in a headlock, manboobing him into submission. 

As the agent shrieked in terror from the proximity of Harry’s manboobs, Harry said, “I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but there’s been a mistake.  I’m Harry Manboobs, fighter of crime.  My ButtRay is to be used for the good of mankind.  I promise not to ButtRay you, that is if you don’t pursue me.  If you know what’s good for you, you won’t.” 

“We’ll get you eventually, Manboobs.  There’s nowhere to run.  This place is crawling with agents.  You’ll never make it out of the gate.”

“We’ll see about that,” replied Harry, and then he put the agent in a Full Manboob until he blacked out. 

Harry released the unconscious agent and ran toward the bike, which had fallen over about 20 feet away.  He picked it up and hopped on, giving it the gas.  Harry executed a perfect wheelie out of the parking lot and took a right onto the main road.  He quickly retrieved his Android phone out of his Speedo and opened the navigation program on it.  They would be looking for him in Phoenix, so he quickly punched in the coordinates for Reno.  He could hide there for a few days while he figured out what to do next. 

But before he could get to Reno, he had to get through the gate.  They would be expecting him and Harry knew it wouldn’t be easy.  He gave the R-1 full throttle and ducked down behind the small windshield.  Harry was going about 175 miles an hour with nothing on but a pink Speedo.  Losing control at this speed would result in one of the worst cases of road rash ever.  And since he wasn’t wearing a helmet, he would probably be a goner.  But desperate times required desperate measures.  He was being pelted by various desert insects as he rode, and each time one hit him, it felt like he was being shot with a high-powered BB gun, but Harry barely noticed.  He was literally riding for his life. 

And the exit gate was now in sight, about two miles up the road.  Harry knew that the next few minutes were crucial to his freedom.

TO BE CONTINUED……