Shootout at the O.K. Corral

(My third and final piece on passing the time in the hospital.)

The unicorn stares back at me. The unicorn stands about three feet tall and every kid and kid-at-heart who passes by the hospital gift shop stops to look at it. Oh, it looks friendly enough with pink and white, cotton candy colored fur and a giant spiral-shaped horn in the middle of its head, but I know better. There’s more going on here then meets the eye.

I’m waiting in the hospital for my wife’s medical procedure to finish. It’s taking longer than expected, so I get up from the busy waiting room, and walk to a secluded spot near the gift shop. I look calm on the outside, but I’m a ball full of nerves. While I wait, I stare at the unicorn and it stares back at me. We’re like two weary gunfighters at the O.K. Corral testing each other to see who is the faster draw.

I half expect Curly Bill and his right-hand man, Johnny Ringo, from the movie Tombstone (1993) to come walking up the hall or to jump out from behind a column, six-guns a-blazing. If that happens, I imagine where I’ll dive to take cover, maybe behind the information desk or a blue chair. If not Curly Bill and his gang of Cowboys, I imagine that Gene Hackman’s Little Bill Daggett, who haunted Clint Eastwood’s character in Unforgiven (1992), will be coming for me. I keep my eyes open ready for anything.

Scared alive

I’m onto the unicorn and he knows it. I’m not like the other passersby. I know what the unicorn is all about and how scary it really is. The unicorn looks kid friendly and all, but is actually a monstrous, little demon, straight out to the scariest Horror movies. Movies like The Exorcist (1973), Halloween (1978), Stephen King’s It (1990) and The Shining (1980) have nothing on this little guy.

You mock. You laugh at my theory. You question my sanity. I can hear you: “It’s just a silly, little unicorn Brian. It wouldn’t hurt a fly.” I imagine you giving me the same incredulous looks that Jimmy Stewart gets in Vertigo (1958) or Cary Grant in North by Northwest (1959).

But here’s how I know: Every few minutes, city buses pull up to the hospital and their lights show the unicorn’s real character. The unicorn’s eyes light up a sinister, laser-like red. One minute a stuffed cuddly unicorn, the next, the worst thing since The Gremlins hit Kingston Falls, Pennsylvania on Christmas Eve 1984.

I want to yell “It’s alive, it’s alive, it’s alive, it’s alive, it’s alive!” like Colin Clive as Henry Frankenstein in Frankenstein (1931). I try to yell, but nothing comes out. The unicorn has stolen my voice just like Ursula stole Ariel’s voice in The Little Mermaid (1989).

Who ya gonna call?

I think about calling 911, but I don’t have much time. The unicorn is like an alien that comes to Earth, puts people into a trance, and gets them to do whatever it wants. I’m racing against time, but I won’t go down so easy. I will put up a fight. I tell the unicorn: “Not me buddy, not today! It’s time for E.T. (1982) to go home.”

I notice other ways that the unicorn is like an alien. It’s got Blob-like tendencies. Like The Blob (1958), the unicorn consumes everything in its path as it grows and grows. It started by the gift shop entrance and is now standing outside the shop. The poor little lady running the shop has no idea. If she doesn’t watch, she’s going to pulled into the blob-like mess. I kind of wonder if she’s an alien too. Men in Black (1997) taught me that you can never be too careful.

I think of calling the team from Ghostbusters (1984) but again time is of the essence. I try to think out of the box. What about the Man of Steel? Where’s Superman, Captain America, Ironman, and all superheroes in the Marvel and DC Universes combined when you need them the most?

Let’s go the movies!

The little unicorn has my imagination running full speed now — Western, Horror, Superhero, Thriller, Action Adventure, etc. — I’m checking all the boxes now. A million thoughts race through my head:

• When will my wife be out of her surgical procedure?
  • The doctor is trying to get in touch with me, but the horrible unicorn has knocked out the hospital’s switchboard. Every disaster movie I’ve watched comes to mind.
• When will I hear some news?
  • If it’s up to the unicorn, the answer is never. Is Dr. No (1962) in on the surgery too.
• Why is the doctor taking so long?
  • Get the drift. Nobody knows, but the unicorn.

Oh, the unicorn is to blame, I’m convinced of it.

Action hero on the move

I’m ready to take matters into my own hands. I stand up and think how John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Denzel Washington, Harrison Ford, with a mix of Sylvester Stallone’s Rocky (1976) and Bruce Willis, might handle this situation?

Heck, I know what they would do. They would run up to the unicorn and give him an uppercut and then a stiff kick, sending him and his red laser eyes back to the dark recesses of the gift shop. And when it was all over, I would look down on the unicorn, Tom Cruise-like from A Few Good Men (1992) and tell him: “Don’t call me son. I’m a lawyer and an officer in the United States Navy and you’re under arrest you son of a bitch!”

I know what I need to do now, but before I take my first step, my phone rings. The ringtone, the drums from John Williams’ Star Wars Theme, dum, dum, dum-da dum, dum-da dum, pulls me back from my crazy, Hollywood movie world and into the reality of the here and now.

The make- believe director in my head says, “Let’s take five everyone” and all the action on the set comes to a halt. I focus on my call. It’s the surgical nurse and he says my wife did well, is out of surgery, and I can come and sit with her. Thank Goodness!

Wooo, what a relief

The unicorn is lucky. There will be no make-believe fighting today. No “Winner-Take-All Battle Royale.” Instead, I stand down. I take off my Gladiator (2000) helmet and shield, I lay down my Platoon (1986) M-16 onto the sofa, and I call off the squad of X-Wing fighters from Star Wars: A New Hope (1977). We’ll fight again in the future, but not today.

I’m like Commander Tom “Stinger” Jardian watching Tom Cruise’s Maverick shoot down three MiGs and Val Kilmer’s Iceman destroying a fourth in Top Gun (1986) and letting out a deep sigh. I’m back in reality and I get to see my wife again.

Yes, yes, a great thing. And yes, I have to admit, I’ve got some crazy ways of passing the time!