Blazing Inferno
Pictured here, in wisecracking mode, holding the upside down crucifix, Mickey Cheney whose date of birth involves an unhealthy coincidence of sixes that happily fall in the year of the fire horse, woke from a dream of a blazing inferno.
It was just like that scene in the disaster movie with Paul Newman says Mickey. I’m stuck in the office looking for some way out of the smoke-infested room, and you know I hear this knock at the door. What’s this I’m thinking… The fire brigade, and Steve Macqueen! - Fat chance! There’s this guy dressed in black and shades. Mucho polite, mucho off the wall says:
We haven’t got much time, Mr Cheney.
Don’t remember what happens much after that, except this sensation of being taken up on wings. – I was actually flying, dudes! Right down the elevator shaft!
It was just like that scene in the disaster movie with Paul Newman says Mickey. I’m stuck in the office looking for some way out of the smoke-infested room, and you know I hear this knock at the door. What’s this I’m thinking… The fire brigade, and Steve Macqueen! - Fat chance! There’s this guy dressed in black and shades. Mucho polite, mucho off the wall says:
We haven’t got much time, Mr Cheney.
Don’t remember what happens much after that, except this sensation of being taken up on wings. – I was actually flying, dudes! Right down the elevator shaft!
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