Ben Schwartz and the Pantaloons of Destiny

Once upon a time in Mexico, Ben Schwartz was walking down the road when he came upon an old man. He was a wretched old man, with a scraggly beard and a lot of missing teeth, along with tattered clothing and a gnarled walking stick. He looked like something taken out of a fairy tale……Anyway! Ben stopped for a second and spoke with the elderly man who was singing to himself a song that had no lyrics.
“Hello there, oh old guy!” Ben said, with his hands on his hips as he often did.
“Why, hello there, young man” replied the man. “Fine day for a hum, isn’t it?”
“I guess, so,” Ben answered. “But why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“The same reason as you,” the man responded. “Just out for a walk.”
‘But you’re not walking,’ said Ben, slowly losing his grasp on the man’s sanity. “Did something happen to you?”
“Why, yes!” said the man jollily. “I stopped!”
“I can see that!”
“See what?” asked the old man looking around, curiously.
“…that…you’ve stopped…” Ben replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yes, of course!” cried the old man. “Sorry, my eyes aren’t quite what they used to be.” Ben nodded, awkwardly trying to think of a way to continue the conversation, or better yet, a way to get out of it!
“I understand” he said. “So, where were you going?” Ben asked, looking back up the road. Like all the local roads, it was straight and vanished under a mountain chain in the west as the sun was slowly going down.
“I was on a quest!” said the old man, excitedly. Ben’s ears perked up.
“A quest you say?” he said.
“That’s what I said!” the man said.
“What kind of quest?” asked Ben, his interest growing with every second.
“A quest for pants!” cried the old man. He hitched up his long, torn, shirt to reveal a pair of scarlet boxer shorts covered with little white hearts. He bent over and took up a sword from beneath the dusty ground. Ben’s hand twitched. In less than a second, it flew to his belt and drew a long curved blade from its scabbard. The man began to laugh and his half cloudy eyes cleared, making way for what looked like tiny fires burning in his pupils. His sword reminisced that of a medieval crusader.
“That’s a fine pair o’ trousers ya got there, sonny” he said. “Hand ‘em over.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” replied Ben, glaring over his glasses at the man. A dozen small boys shot up from the desert’s underbelly. They collectively played an Em chord and shot beneath the ground. Where each boy had appeared and disappeared, a fountain of fire sprang high into the sky. Drums filled the air and the sun quickly jumped from his current position in the sky to a safe hiding place behind the mountains in the West. Ben and the man walked around one another in the circle of fire. The drums thundered along as the stars watched suspensefully. Ben looked into the old man’s eyes and they flared with large flames. The drums stopped and a loud gong sounded, followed by a phantom Em chord. The old man bent his knees and flung himself at Ben, raising his sword high above his head. Ben lunged forward, raising his sword as well. The blades clashed and sparks exploded from them. Ben held his blade firm as the man pushed down on him. Ben bent his own knees and pushed himself out of the way, knocking the man off balance. He toppled to the ground and his sword cut into the sand. Ben leapt away to the other side of their flaming ring of combat. He turned his head to the ground, then whipped it back to look at the man. An Em chord sounded. The man spat a rock out and whipped his head to look at Ben. Another Em chord sounded. They both raised their blades and sprang at one another. Their blades clashed and an alarmingly loud Em chord sounded, shaking the ground for miles.
A little truck drove by, and the driver beeped his horn, which sounded like “La Cucaracha.” Inside the circle, Ben’s sword and the man’s sword whipped around, reflecting the light from the circle of fire in every direction. Ben blocked and struck only to have the man block and strike in return. The battle raged on for hours. The hours turned into days. The days turned into weeks until finally, their huge circle of fire had burned out. They sat in the center of the blackened circle, breathing heavily. A large oil tanker drove up and the driver leapt out. He dragged his large hose over to a cactus and cut off the top with a large bowie knife. He then thrust the hose deep into the cactus and began pouring fuel into the plant. After a few minutes, he stopped, and replaced the hose on his truck. He climbed in and turned on the engine.
“You’re all set, fellas!” he shouted, and he drove off.
“Thanks a lot!” the old man called back, with a smile. There was a flash of lightning and the flames were reignited. The battle continued. The tides changed constantly. Ben received a cut on his face, only to repay the man with a slash on his bony leg. The man’s beard had been completely shaven, thanks to a number of close calls. The tide finally turned when the old man made a mistake. While engaging in a bout of trash talk, the elder, assuming his age would leave him invulnerable to scrutiny made a very inappropriate comment about Ben’s mom. Ben unleashed such fury on the old man as he had never seen before. The old man raised his sword to block the blow, but it shattered into a million silver pieces, and fell into the dust. The center of their battlefield gave way and the sand fell into what appeared to be an endless pit. Ben and the old man backed away, Ben with his sword to the man’s throat.
“Listen,” said the old man, trying to bargain. “Let’s see if we can work something out. You can have the pants during the week and I’ll take them on the weekends and every other holiday. Except Christmas you can have-“
“SILENCE!” Ben roared. The man faltered, but kept his balance. “You cannot and will not ever have these pants,” Ben said, furiously. “You need to get yourself a job, go to a GAP or something and buy your own pants.”
“Buy my own pants?” The man looked insulted. “That’s madness!” Ben’s eyebrow shot halfway up his forehead.
“Madness?” He looked the man right in the eye. “I’m not going to make that joke.” He said. He sheathed the sword and walked away. The man stood there, on the edge of the hole, waiting for what was supposed to come. When it didn’t he panicked.
“Wait! You can’t just leave me here! That’s not how it’s supposed to be!” With no other option, the man turned and leapt into the whole, screaming all the way down. It was awesome.