What happens next, of course, is magical realism.
The next morning I hoof to work and find a tree growing right out from the center of the Torpedo, up through a gaping hole in the roof, and on up beyond that! Bees spiral around, coupled together in the act of primordial bee love. The whole thing is vaguely familiar somehow, though I won't remember that it's literally a dream come true for another day or so.
As you probably already know, it takes only hours for the tree to become the hottest thing on Coney Island since Topsy The Elephant. Soon, the boardwalk is swarming. A bunch of Hassidim come over from Gravesend and start hooking arms and circling around it. Flame and Liz show up. Then Eddie, the Human Anvil, and a bunch of others from the midway. A cadre of Jesuit padres and a gaggle of nuns show up to chant Hail Mary's. And tons of cameras, too, snapping shots of me, the tree, and the whole damn show.
“Hey, Cap'n. Can I take a picture of you and the tree?”
“Sure thing. You gonna buy something first?”
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