Sylvester Denny was not yet certain of the legitimacy of his new traveling companion as a person. He seemed obsessive (After all, who really cares about the answers to questions?), and Dodecadawson didn’t quite have the same sort of “pop” as real names tend to. Nevertheless, he held the key to Sylvester inheriting nothing from his great-uncle Barack; and so, Sylvester Denny was pleased with himself that he had accepted the man’s offer of adventure.
“Where ever shall we start?” Asked Dawson, poising his arms in a way which strongly implied that he wanted an answer.
“We should probably find good a search engine to, like, look up addresses and such. Or, like, if we wanted to know some trivia, for some guy asking us or something; or if we just wanted to know; and we didn’t know, or wanted to be sure, we could just type stuff in, and answers and stuff would pop out.” Sylvester responded.
“My sister owns stocks in Bing®, so I’m kind of into that.” ~Dawson Filter, 2016, when asked by Sylvester Denny his search engine of preference.
“That sounds pretty good. We should probably test it out first, though, just to make sure that their servers are stable and all that.” Said Sylvester, afterword, to which Dawson promptly responded:
“When I walked in here (here referring to Walter’z Breakfast and Midday Snack House), I thought I saw a computer next to the cash register; and the monitor had what looked to be Blackjack scores. Most computers just come with solitaire, maybe Minesweeper. They had to have downloaded it somehow; and the internet is currently the leading method of downloading software, so I figure they probably have a connection.”
“I’m sometimes allowed back there, to fetch pens and such.” Sylvester said, with a look in his eye which seemed to say “I’m sometimes allowed back there, to fetch pens and such.”
“Neat.” Dawson Filter said, fully confident that this was a full sentence. He made a motion with his hand to signal Sylvester to walk towards, and behind, the restaurant’s counter. Sylvester Denny responded by turning his back to Dawson, as the first step in walking toward his destination of the counter. Opening the door to the most coveted place in the building, he reached down to scratch his left knee; and, while he was down there, he saw a button which read “12 Kicks”. Like any 5”11 man would have done, he pushed it. Immediately afterword, a banner fell from the ceiling, along with a wolf; a flower pot; a real pot; a rock ‘n’ roll musician; and an anvil, which landed on the wolf.
“Woooooooohooooooooahaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggxxxxxx” The rocker crooned, adapting Bob Dylan’s smash hit, “Blowin’ in The Wind”.
“Dodecadawson, I’ve just begun to experience fear, and it’s not stopping!” Sylvester cried, in an effort to alert Dawson Filter of his fear. Dawson ran to his side, and muttered some empty words of comfort before Sylvester’s field of vision faded to black.
He awoke to find Dawson sitting at the company computer, looking over his right shoulder, and saying “I was right. Bing® truly is the best search engine for all my business and personal needs.”
And so, in the year’s most subtle moment of product placement, Dawson Filter and Sylvester Denny discovered that there was more hope in their quest fo’ the true meaning of feelings than they had ever imagined in the previous six minutes.