just so happen to be accidentally dumped on the unenchanted cement slab in my back yard after which I quickly turn the situation to my advantage by striking up a deal in which Beowulf and his men can stay with me if they collectively maneuver my malfunctioning washer-dryer unit down the treacherous, poorly-lit back stairs of my apartment and they do this, and general hilarity, music and dance ensue as I somewhat successfully and somewhat unsuccessfully try to help this band of fifth century warriors fit into twenty-first century life by taking them for haircuts at SuperCuts and new clothes at Target in order to ensure their viability for employment at Jamba Juice, and Beowulf and I even take the first tentative steps toward romance although I personally thought he looked better with long hair, but even so, for the sake of epic poetry I know I must help the men return to their former lives so Beowulf can kill Grendel and Grendel's dam and the dragon and I can sit through tenth grade English with Sister Mary Patrick Francis Brian and learn about the poem as a Christian allegory and so that the anonymous poet can enjoy a good chuckle in his grave trying to figure out who the f*ck Selma or Kyra or Ursula or any of the other movie add-in love interests are, and thus I rig up a rudimentary time portal using, among other things, the broken washer-dryer unit, but it doesn't work--using a nonfunctional appliance in a time machine? not smart!--so after a heartfelt and moving goodbye straight out of another not-quite-like-the-book adventure movie, Beowulf bounces right back into my life along with all his men and, you guessed it, Selma, who at this point seems more interested in using her time in the twenty-first century on a little girl-on-girl action and the music starts and here we are. Scene: the stage is still full of garbage.
Act Four: After Selma and I do our thing, Selma takes Beowulf and his men back to the movie version of the fifth century and I suddenly have a lot of time to reflect upon the fact that, once again, it has taken a witch, a spell gone awry, and a hero and his men frozen in time for anything remotely exciting to happen in my life. Before she leaves, I ask Selma for a final favor. Could she possibly cast a spell on the backyard to transform it from a junkyard into a nice patch of grass with a small garden where vegetables might grow? Just a few cucumbers and green beans. Maybe some nice, crisp radishes. Nothing spectacular. (Or at the very least, just get rid of that mattress that looks like someone's given birth on it.) But she claims she needs all her magic to counteract the broken time machine I made. So at the end of the day, harsh reality sinks in once again. Also, I suddenly remember that Selma was being played by my cat, MC,GB, which is just kind of weird.