The first day of my winter jaunt revealed a forgotten outpost of Viking activity in Ocean City, Maryland—or, as I’m now calling it, New South Vinland.
When the sun rose on day two, I beheld an even more astonishing sight: Muslims and Christians uniting against a common foe.
On the east side of North Baltimore Avenue is this oasis for weary mujaheddin:
On the west side is a hospice for homesick Crusaders:
These people aren’t fooling around. Their sign bears the coat of arms of the United Kingdom and there’s a crown on the K.
Wait—what’s that structure rising from a nearby parking lot?
A shop that sells string and sealing wax, and other fancy stuff?
No. Sweet Lord, no!
It’s a evil dragon temple!
“M R dragons.”
“M R not.”
“O S A R. C M wangs?”
Look: this dragon is so dangerous, the other dragons keep him in a cage.
This dragon lives in fear of the day the other dragons discover he’s really just a snake.
“Uh, guys? I’m actually a beloved symbol of prosperity and good fortune. Guys?”
This dragon is the kind of cringingly un-selfaware monster who declares he’s eager to “have you for dinner,” after which that orange suck-up behind him cackles as if he said something hilarious.
Don’t you agree, Curiously Incongruent Easter Island Head?
Storm-clouds gather. Darkness falls. The last dim battle between dragon and man beginneth here, and the mists of death shall sweep over land and sea.