“Oh, She Totally Has Islandwalk.”

In the aftermath of the apocalypse, I wandered through the destroyed streets of D.C. (not that they looked any different than they do right now HEY-O) and fought off legions of  Mad Max impersonators and Fallout fanboys to reach my destination: The National Gallery.  Deep in its hallowed halls, where the nuclear global warming asteroid Whore of Babylon armageddon didn’t reach, I knew I would be safe.  Also, I could play the most beautiful game of Magic: The Gathering that ever existed.

So my friend Matt and I were in D.C. last Friday doing touristy things when this story happens, somewhere in the halls of National Gallery wandering from room and room and wondering why they all look the same (answer: lazy programmers) when we come across this:

And Matt, fresh off his “Napoleon totally looks like Quentin Tarantino” quip, takes a look at this, pulls me over away from the museum guards who are leering in the doorways, and goes:

“I totally want to turn this painting sideways and play a Llanowar Elves.”

Then a public tour wandered through and their guide asked if we wanted to be part of their group.  No doubt because I was cracking jokes about the Impressionists all being shadow creatures.  So we quickly excused ourselves, doused our giggles with a walk through Italian religious art (seriously, why does everyone paint Jesus like you just killed his favorite puppy?  Even when he’s just hanging out with some disciples peeps, he looks like he just watched Requiem for a Dream), and made a promise that when (not if) the zombies rise up, we’ll save as much art as we can, if nothing else to make the most expensive and hard-to-shuffle Magic decks ever.