Indiana Jones & the Starbucks of Doom

As the Nazis waged their war on Christmas, Indy lectured at the university. However, he was soon informed that whatever crisis he had long studied in the tomes of all history was right outside his door. The Nazis were planning to replace his favorite coffee chain’s signature holiday cups and threaten to change history once and for all. He knew he had to prevent the coming of this final judgment, but he had a splitting headache in the temple of his brain. He would need coffee, and he would need it ASAP.

After circumnavigating the globe several times, Indy found the most sacred of all coffee shops, a holy place, long-esteemed by all the world’s major religions for having the freshest of brews, whether the holiest of holy days fell on a Friday, a Saturday, or even a Sunday.

He peered at its doors, humbled and afraid and, somehow, renewed in his quest. He walked towards the divine setting as if he knew it already in the way that one often knows a place he or she has often read and pondered.

Inside, he was found a barista who was preoccupied with other serious matters, like pleading with his boss for a vacation or some such nonsense.

Then, Indy was faced with a most difficult choice. His favorite coffee shop had long offered confusing sizes: Tall, Grande, and an even bigger Grande. It was a good thing he had studied both Greek and Latin under the strict tutelage of his father, a world-renowned linguist and historian. Otherwise, he would have looked like a fool while ordering.

Indy made his choice. He also asked the barista to most definitely leave room for cream. He then took a seat in the corner and read The Wall Street Journal. When he finished his pit stop, he walked the cup to the recycling bin. Hm, it was neither paper nor plastic. Another tough choice. He finally tossed the meaningless cup into the bin labeled ‘Paper.’ After all, the Grail was made from wood, and wood often became paper.

Then, fully caffeinated, he ventured out into the darkening world, ready to take on the Nazis who threatened the snowflakes and reindeer and sleigh bells. The War on Christmas would, indeed, be won, or defeated, or something along those lines. It was difficult to tell. It was all blurred in the cheer of holiday snow.  

Bryan Harvey tries to be reasonable on Twitter @LawnChairBoys.