When A Hero Falls - An Obituary

     MINNEAPOLIS -- I had the honor of speaking with Corporal Chris Steven just before he shipped out on what would end up being his final mission. I have never met a more honorable or more dependable umbrella in all my time on this earth. At the time of his death, the corporal was the best this service could offer. He was assigned to escort and convoy duty in Minneapolis, a city notorious for its rainy autumns and currently under attack by The Wind. His unit's assignment? Keep the guy warm and dry as he traveled from home to school.

     Corporal Steven's first solo mission was the legendary skirmish, the Fourth of July Parade Rainstorm. Steven was decorated for his valiant defense of the guy and his dog, protecting them for over 45 minutes. After recovering from this ordeal, Steven accompanied the guy to Minneapolis, where he served at The Rainiest Days of Band Camp, and other skirmishes throughout the month of September.

     Steven was wounded during the arduous Bloody Rainy October campaign, but insisted on remaining on duty until a replacement could be found.  That replacement, Tan Trench-Coat, said that when he took over, Cpl. Steven made sure he understood his duty. "He said, 'You keep the guy warm and dry, and he'll always get you home.'"

     Sergant First-Class Zero Xposure, a heavy coat that has served with the guy for almost a year, showed his respect for Cpl. Steven at his wake. "Chris was a good guy, and a damn fine umbrella," Xposure said, wiping away a tear. "I've seen a lot of umbrellas come and go in my time, but never one like Chris. He'll be missed."

     A stripe-pattern hat, who asked to remain anonymous, was a rookie on his first mission on the day Cpl. Steven met his end. "I couldn't tell what was going on," the hat said, his face grim. "It was raining when we left, so the guy put up the corporal, buy my God, the Wind! I've never seen nothing [sic.] like it! Still gives me the shivers. Chris got flipped inside-out more than once on that walk home, but he never gave up. Eventually the wind, it stopped. I'm not sure it was even still raining! But the corporal decided to stay up. I tried to stop him, but Sarge told me to let Steven do his job. If only I had done something more to stop him, Chris might still -- (sob)."

     After the long, fruitless campaign of Bloody Rainy October, the rain looked for allies in its eternal struggle against the city. Wind, the notorious mercenary, who terrorized the city of Chicago for over a decade in the 1920s and 30s, agreed to help and was in the middle of assaulting Minneapolis. Taking out cpl Steven would be a fringe benefit for this warlord. "That [expletive deleted] put up a hell of a fight," the wind told me. "I gotta give him credit for that. But I wore him down in the end. Snuck up behind when his guard was down. Broke at least three, maybe four spokes and twisted the cloth." He laughs, "I took him out in the end!"

     Cpl Steven was post-umbrellaously awarded the Congressional Medal of Not Getting Thrown Away Right Away by the guy.

     "It was a good umbrella," the guy told me. "Even after the string on that one spoke came loose. I'm not sure what I'll do with it now."

     Medical specialist Blue Roll of Tape shared some of his unorthodox ideas with me. "There is simply no evidence to suggest that the entity we know as Corporal Chris Steven is gone forever," Tape told me as we viewed the body. "I think, that under my care, we can bring this young man back from the brink." Blue Roll of Tape is currently attempting to acquire funding for his project.

     Cpl Steven is survived by his squad, his replacement the Tan Trench-Coat, his former partner C&S umbrella condom, and the three or four identical copies currently serving the guy's family in Illinois.

Cpl. Chris Steven in happier times, recuperating from his wounds during the Bloody Rainy October campaign.