Mission Four

Mr. Bennet quickly and heroically makes his way through the obstacle course....

Ah, an obstacle course! All Primatech Paper Salesman are put through a similar course (Of course, Primatech's has a Pit of Rabid Tibetan Felines and poo-flinging Radical Wheat Monkeys). I had an advantage in this challenge. As the only paper salesman, I'm likely the only one here that has actually completed an obstacle course.

I felt sorry for the wheelchair guy, though. But only for a moment. After that, I was thrilled he was on the opposing team.

On the starting line, I yelled over at Baldy, "Break a leg!" I admit, my seemingly sportsman-like wishing of good luck was actually a cleverly disguised insult. The key in competition is to weakn your enemy. Demoralizing the crippled would only make him drag further behind!

The obstacle course was underway. Wheelchair Guy took off with more-than-handicapable speed. "Whaaaa??"

I made my way through the obstacle course. The first obstacle....trenches! Easy! I mean, all they are really are glorified ditches.

The flamethrowers, however, proved difficult. Fifteen years in the paper business has given me an uneasy feeling toward fire, paper's natural enemy. But I ducked, dodged and even weaved my way through the fiery death machines. Not since my bachelor's party had I encountered such hot madness. (Seriously, the stripper had flamethrowers for legs. Looking back, maybe Quentin Tarantino wasn't the best planner for the event.)

What now? Malaysian Tiger Traps! Ha! I laugh at the pain-invoking contraptions. Last time I checked, I wasn't a Malaysian Tiger. I ran across the traps with ease.

Until I triggered one.

After a few minutes of crying, I managed to escape the traps. But I had lost a lot of time, I had to ketchup! So, I took off running. I ran and ran and jogged at a quick pace, then I realized I was in quicksand! I wasn't going anywhere, just running in place. Gah!

I pulled out a few reams of paper and built a path over the quicksand. Finally, I was near the finish. Only one thing remained. Scandinavian Yak Traps!

Now, last time I checked I wasn't a Scandinavian Yak. So, I too-wait a minute! I caught myself just in time. Thinking back to the so-called Malaysian Tiger Traps, I realized that Jon had purposely deceived us with fancy trap names. They're not Scandinavian Yak or Malaysian Tiger traps, they're Anything That Touches Them Traps! And I was certainly a potential anything.

So, I cleverly went around the trap field and crossed the finish line unscathed! Well, maybe a little scathed. Let's go with minutely scathed. That works....

So, I cleverly went around the trap field and crossed the finish line minutely scathed! Yay!