--- Dirty alleyway --- Boston, Massachusetts --- 8:47 a.m.
A figure in the shadow moves, holds his head, and says "For the Love of Babaji, what am I doing here?"
" Wait who am I?" the figure grumbles softly. "Who am I? Who am I? Que est? Que est?"
A shoe shiner quartet walk by.
" Hello! Sirs! Sirs?!" the figure yells.
The quartet turn and slowly approach the darkened alleyway. "Hola!" one sings. "Namaste!" another belts. "Bonjour!" the third rings. "Salaam!" the last says with authority.
" Can you please tell me where I am?" The figure queries.
" You are! You are! You are! You are!" they sing, and then stop suddenly.
A hush blankets them in mysterious anticapation.
" Well, we really do not know, but I give fantastic pedicures!" one member said as he put his hand on his hip.
The member then proceeded to delicately retrieve a card from his silk shirt pocket. The lone figure slowly rose from the darkness, and stepped lightly toward the member with his card.
"Gasp... Gasp... Gasp... Gasp...!" The quartet cry in unison.
The lone figure stood still like a statue waiting for an answer.
" I am Inigo Montoya. You down voted my node. Prepare to die." The silk shirted member proudly said.
" Nooo... Noooooo... Nooooode?" The figure questionably stuttered.
To be continued?