Adam Oster's Blog, page 23

Chapter 13: Gotta Have More Meanwhile

“What the heck was that?” Adam asked The Badger. “You take charge and the next thing we get is some absurdist scene break about someone taking a shower? Besides, didn’t I write that ridiculous short story ages ago just to fill some space?”

The Badger took a look at Adam, knowing that he didn’t need to answer because Adam was undoubtedly going to use the narration to go off on some tangent about things which were already explained in the dialogue, while also making people sigh a bunch.

“I still need more time,” The Badger sighed.

 

Meanwhile, in Edinburgh, a twenty-seven year old Jessica Trelawnty was staring at the TV while dressed in a pink tank top and black yoga pants, transfixed by the news coming out of America. She had been on her way to the bathroom for a shower when she overheard her television talking about how there were two monsters currently roaming through the center of a small town called Exposition.

However, that’s not what had caused her to pause on her path. Instead, it was the discussion of two men who were found at the scene of both beasts, who appeared to have appeared out of thin air. Even more intriguing was the video of these two men. One of them, at one point, had managed to be hit by a car, only to stand up as though nothing had happened, and the other somehow lost every single one of his limbs, and his torso, becoming nothing more than a head, only to come back bigger and stronger than before.

And then, they ran off in the car together, as though they were old cohorts.

Jessica knew something fishy was up, and she knew that whatever it was, it had to do with these two obviously guilty men. And Jessica also knew that she was the one who had to take care of it. After all, she was the world’s foremost paranormal investigator. Well, she assumed she was. There actually wasn’t much of a governing body for paranormal investigators due to how most of the world believed them to be nothing more than scam artists, but she had put those words on her business cards and no one had actually taken the time to refute it, so she figured it must have some form of truth to it.

And besides, she had been the one who had actually gone into that creepy house in Dunwich and determined there were cultist activities which had somehow managed to create creatures who gave off their own light through a mysterious thing that she had decided to call bioluminescence.

She later learned that bioluminescence was an actual thing, but she swears she had never heard the word before she had come up with it and thinks she deserves a little bit of extra credit because of that.

Jessica hopped onto the next plane out of Edinburgh and made her way to Exposition.

It wasn’t a direct flight, obviously.

Actually, she ended up on a small commuter plane into Dublin, which then put her on yet another small plane into Paris, which she then had some trouble because she didn’t speak French and she had to somehow get across the airport in order to find the terminal that would get her onto her flight into Chicago, which then was just another brief 3 hour flight to Exposition.

But, after all of that, she was finally there. Exposition, America. The land of, well, the land of something weird.

And so it was that Jessica found herself standing at the feet of two enormous monsters who were now looking like they were about to face off against each other, as she also found herself standing face to face with the two men from the video that she knew would answer all of her questions.

“Good, you’re here,” The Badger said to Jessica. “We need you to answer some questions for us.”

Jessica found herself wishing she had taken the time to change out of her yoga pants and into some more serious clothing.

Chapter 12: Meanwhile…

Meanwhile, across town, Frank was only beginning his day. A day he dreaded dearly. Today was the day he was to finally tell his boss how he had begun to seek employment elsewhere.

He struggled with this because actually liked his boss. Yet, he knew his current occupational situation didn’t offer much in the way of growth and he was simply too young to find himself stuck within the same position for the next twenty years.

These thoughts ran across his mind as he stepped into the shower and under the hot curtain of water.

After a few minutes of reflection as his body warmed to the idea of being awake, Frank noticed he was out of soap, something he had noticed yesterday as he watched the last remnants of the old bar of soap wash down the drain, but something he had not done anything about.

“Googlexa.”

“Yes.”

“Please place order for immediate soap delivery.”

“Please designate form of payment.”

“Cash, duh.”

“Insufficient funds.”

“Insufficient funds. 
For a bar of soap?  How much does that
cost?”

“For immediate drone delivery, $20.00.  Current bank balance is $11.28”

“How much for normal delivery?”

“4.29, tax included.”

“How the hell does it cost more to have a damned drone come
out than it does for a guy in a big old truck to drive all the way out here
with gas and everything?”

“As you may be aware, when drone delivery first arrived, there was great concern over the millions of jobs which could be lost to the technology and therefore a convenience fee was developed to ensure–“

“It was a damned rhetorical question, Googlexa.  Update your programming logic to include asking me if I want an explanation before explaining crap to me in the future.”

“Programming updated.”

“And get me some damned soap.”

“Traditional delivery, sir?”

“How bad do I smell?”

“Initiating odor density detection scan.  My sensors have determined that you currently are infested with a high density of unpleasant odor particles.”

“Fine, immediate delivery, please.”

“Shall I contact the appropriate payday lenders to pay for
this purchase.”

“Yeah, how long till the soap gets here.”

“Ten minutes.  Shall I
assume you will forego current water use restrictions and continue your shower
until the product arrives?”

“Yeah.  And make sure
the drone comes to the bathroom window. 
Don’t want to have to get out just because the damned robot wants to
drop things off at the front door.”

“As you wish.”

Chapter 11: Uh-oh?

“Uh oh?” Adam asked, glancing up at Carl who was currently arguing with Mrs. Picklebottom about how x isn’t a number. “Why uh oh?”

“Because if you aren’t writing this and I’m not writing this, who the heck is writing this?”

“I don’t know,” Adam answered stupidly, as if he even needed to say such a stupid thing. “Hey! Now’s no time to get mean in the narration. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” The Badger answered, which he should have realized was exactly what he made fun of Adam for doing just seconds before but apparently was too stupid to think that far out. “Jeez, okay, I get it, I reacted poorly. Look, if you’re not actively thinking of this story and I’m not actively thinking of this story, that means that this thing has quite literally gone off the rails.”

“As if me sitting within my own story talking to my muse in the guise of a character I wrote for a completely different short story before he decided to derail it with his own stories about giant monsters isn’t already a reason to question my mental health?”

“Your broken brain aside, we could have a real problem here. And it could possibly be my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” the Badger said with great agitation, “which I would have explained if you had just allowed me to finish my sentence, is that us Muses aren’t supposed to take such direct control of things like I have and it’s possible, there is just the tiniest most minuscule of chances, that I could have broken down the walls of your imagination and caused a situation which neither of us can control.”

“But,” Adam said, his biceps bulging as he considered his incredible strength, “I’m still able to control the narration.”

“Which is good, but I fear that we might see more things coming from the back of your mind that we hadn’t expected.” The Badger looked up at Carl who was throwing a bottle of glowing blue boogers into his over-sized maw.

“But can’t we just end the story?”

“We can certainly try, but the problem here is that we haven’t got any sort of resolution. Heck, we just found the true issue, meaning we’re just barely at the end of Act One, if we aren’t dealing with one of those situations where the real issue is actually deeper in and we’re just being faked out.”

“What are you talking about? This is a short story, we don’t have to follow the constraints of traditional storytelling. There is no denouement. We just decide we’re done and we’re done.”

Adam looked toward the west as he rode off into the sunset, feeling confident that all his troubles were behind him now.

The End

Adam’s horse snorted angrily and screamed in frustration. “You can’t force an ending like that!”

Adam jumped back in fright, landing on the ground behind the horse which quickly transformed into the shape of The Badger.

“Okay, fine, what do you suggest we do?”

“I think at this point, our best chance it to attempt a scene break and transition to a different character’s POV to buy us some time. Right now we have at least two monsters running around here and I’m not liking how you’re insipid Carl monster is growing again.”

“Alright, so, how do we do that?”

“We meanwhile, obviously.”

“What?”

Chapter 10: Booger-Kicking Carl

Carl had a big problem.

A huge problem.

An impossibly ginormous incredibly terrible problem.

Carl loved eating boogers.

Love isn’t even the right word for it. Carl was absolutely addicted to eating boogers.

It had become so much of a problem that his friends had started calling him Booger-Kicking Carl. No one was quite sure why he wasn’t called Booger-Eating Carl instead, but the name had stuck nonetheless.

Finally, Carl, after feeling like he could take the teasing no longer, chose to visit the Doctor.

The Doctor seemed like a nice man and when he told Carl he had a cure, Carl was ecstatic.

The only problem was, the cure required Carl to eat some of the Doctor’s specially formulated Blue Boogers!

Carl took the bottle of boogers home and stared at them, wondering how it could be possible that the only way to kick his habit of eating boogers was to eat these blue boogers.

Curiosity got the best of him, and he finally, slowly, trepidatiously, placed the first of the blue boogers on his tongue.

The taste was absolutely terrible! It was easily the worst thing that had ever happened to Carl’s mouth. And he began to realize that maybe the Doctor had a worthwhile idea. If all of the boogers he was eating were this terrible, he couldn’t possibly want to eat any more of them.

Then something began to happen. It started at his toes, but quickly ran up to his nose. Spikes began spouting out all over his body. Large dangerous spikes. Followed by great swaths of hair which tufted out at the bottom of the spikes. But the most terrible thing was yet to follow.

Carl began to grow.

Within seconds he found himself growing from a normal 4 foot boy into a gargantuan 100 foot monster.

And Carl began walking. He didn’t realize he was walking, he hadn’t wanted to walk anywhere, but he was walking. Try as he might to crumple up into a ball and hide, he continued forward, heading toward the city center, where he knew there were thousands of people who could easily get injured by his footsteps if he went near them.

But Carl had lost all control of his own body.

Finally, Carl stopped. Directly in front of his school. And he heard himself yell out in a terrible voice, “Mrs. Picklebottom!”

Mrs. Picklebottom? Carl thought to himself. That’s my math teacher. Why I come here to find her?

A frail old lady walked out the front door and stared up in fear at the giant monster before her.

“Do you see me now?” Carl’s voice ruptured the air. “Do you see what I have done? I have created the most amazing monster. And you told me I could never get anywhere without learning math!”

What am I talking about? Carl thought to himself. I’m awesome at math, and Mrs. Picklebottom has always been the nicest of teachers to me. None of this makes any sense.

“Doctor?” Mrs. Picklebottom questioned. “Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me!” Carl growled. “And now you will pay for giving me an F!”

“Hold up!” The Badger said, standing between Mrs. Picklebottom and Booger-Kicking Carl, the absolutely most ridiculous of monsters. “What the hell is all of this?”

Adam said, from atop Carl’s head, “This is your monster story, right?”

“No, not a chance,” The Badger responded. “My monster story was epic. This is more like some sort of kid’s book about, I don’t know, about not letting other people control you or something.”

“Oh crap,” Adam replied, jumping down from Carl’s head and landing gracefully at the Badger’s side, “I think this was one of the story’s my kids and I came up together.”

“You see,” The Badger frowned. “This is why I need to be in charge.”

“But I didn’t actually think of it,” Adam answered.

“Uh oh,” The Badger replied, allowing for a sense of foreboding with a side of foreshadow.

Chapter 9: So…what now?

There he sat, that lonely man, all alone, with a drink in his hand.

He hadn’t always been alone, he thought with a grimace.  He had once had friends, a wife, and a purpose.  But he had gambled it away, one day, without abandon, by telling a friend a secret obsession.

The man, you see, was a lover of —

“What the hell,” A-dumb shouted.  “Why in the world did you put this stupid drink in my hand?”  He took a deep swig of the brown liquor as he continued driving down the long road.

“I haven’t the tiniest clue of what you are talking about,” The tall, muscular man known only as The Badger  said from the passenger seat of the Mustang.

“You know what–Wait, where did you get–nevermind.  You know what, I’m taking this whole thing back over, okay.  I’m sick of what you’ve done with this story, I’m tired of thinking that I’ve lost control, I’ve–”

A-dumb swerved uncontrollably off the side of the road, sending the car plummeting down into the deep ravine.

“Goddammit!” Adam shouted at the torso of a man in the seat next to him as he expertly twisted the car in the mid-air and caused it to land right-side up on the ground below.  Even he was somewhat amazed at how spectacularly the shocks of the vehicle held up.  Unfortunately for his passenger, however, who had not been wearing his seat belt and was thrown into the air, clear from the–

“Okay, this is just getting ridiculous,” The still perfectly seated and awesome Badger said as the car came to a quick stop.  “Either you let me take control of this story or–”

“Or what?  This is my story and you’re the one who has been hijacking it.  Why can’t I just take control like I’m supposed to?”

“You know what?” The Badger said, ever the more adult person in any given room.  “You’re right.  This is your story.  Your story that you couldn’t keep a single bit of control over and is now spiraling into just a ridiculous piece of dialogue between you and yourself.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me.  This is yet another sign of your insanity.  Another sign that you don’t stand a chance of keeping it together in this world.  That’s why you write, after all, to keep the voices at bay.”

“Who told you that?”

The Badger looks at him with one of those knowing grins that makes you think to yourself about how ridiculous of a question you may have just asked, even though the question really wasn’t that ridiculous at the time, but in hindsight, probably was easy to answer without any words being said.

“God, you’re insufferable,” A-dumb pouted.

The Badger again gave him one of those looks that–

“Nope,” Adam growled.  “No more.  You’re done derailing this whole thing.  I’m in charge now.”

“That’s cute,” The Badger smirked.

Chapter 8: Who the %$!# is this?

The Badger’s eyes opened once again and he exclaimed, “What?”

“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” the mysterious and unwanted man replied. “Can you tell me what’s going on here? I was working on this mind-bending pseudo-horror novella about a woman who was captured and –“

“No.” The Badger stood. He was strong, not really injured at all, which, of course, might be something you’d question because of how I told you earlier that he was dying, but he was probably just faking it or something, you know, for insurance purposes. Besides, there was this guy here now and he really needed to know who it was and why he was here, because he most definitely wasn’t here just five seconds ago.

“I’m need answers,” the man said sternly. “What the hell is going on with my story?”

“Your story?” The Badger replied incredulously. “You mean the boring tale of implied insanity you so halfheartedly pieced together from random thoughts you had while on an amusement park ride years ago?”

“You know who I am?”

“Of course I do.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“You don’t know?”

“All I know is that my story has suddenly become some sort of ridiculous monster movie with an incredibly standard overpowered masculine figure who–“

“There’s nothing standard about this story. You just have to wait and read into it a little bit. Sure, the intro might have come off as a little mundane, but if you had any clue of where it was going, you would have realized it was going to be a modern masterpiece.”

“Wait,” the man said, holding his hand with his pointer finger pressed against The Badger’s lips unnecessarily. “Are you saying you did all this?”

“Of course that’s what I’m saying, you imbecile. I had to take over. All you ever write is absolute drivel that never does anything, never goes anywhere and spends all of its time with just two people talking through whatever’s going on in intense detail, stopping the action entirely and just focusing on character detail, but not even the cool character details like how they look or what they do, just what they like to talk about.”

The mysterious man looks at a non-existent camera with a bemused grin.

“Hey, quit that!” The Badger yelled. “If you weren’t here, there wouldn’t be any need for this stupid string of dialogue. This Badger guy would be well on his way to fighting a big monster which is really a symbol of his own pained past and regret toward leaving his children at a young age.”

“But, how could you even possibly be doing this?” the man frowned. “I mean, I created you. You’re–“

“You didn’t create me. I am eternal. I am a goddess, from before the gods even realized their true power. I am–“

“You’re The Badger, yeah, I get it.”

“Don’t you get it, you fool. I’m not The Badger. I am so much more. I’m the one who writes through you. I am the embodiment of inspiration. I am Narry, the Muse.”

“Narry?”

“Look, it’s not like we generally have names or anything, and I needed to come up with–“

“You are the embodiment of inspiration and the best name you can come up for yourself is Narry? What is that short for? Narrator, I’m guessing, right? This is pathetic.”

“Not as pathetic as, um, as–“

“Come on! You were about to write a big action sequence and you can’t even come up with a come back to something as simple as me calling you pathetic? Besides, you’re the villain here, shouldn’t you just do something like, I don’t know, say ‘I’ll show you pathetic!’ and then do something cool like shoot lasers out of your forehead?”

“I’m not the villain. I am the creator.”

“Yeah, okay, right. So, you’re not the villain, but you take over some dude’s story and make it into something completely ridiculous and–“

“I am not the villain! And this is not ridiculous. Like I said, this story would’ve been super cool if you would have just let me finish.”

“But this is my story. Why can’t you just write your own?”

“I am writing my own.”

“But you’re taking over my story, why can’t you–“

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you? It makes sense that I would get stuck with you. I’m a Muse. That means I can only inspire art, I can’t create it myself. But if I focus my efforts hard enough, I can inspire enough to make whatever I want to happen happen, and–“

“Wait–“

“Quit telling me to wait and just interject. There’s no need–“

“You’re telling me that all of this, all this writing, everything that’s happening now, I’m writing it, you’re just making me write it?”

“I guess so. I don’t know how it works. I just knew I was tired of being attached to the bathroom rags you were writing and needed to try something.”

“So, I really have all the control here?”

“I don’t–“

The Badger’s body was torn apart by invisible hands. Arms, legs, head, and torso split into four different segments, rose into the sky, and flew off into the distance.

“Okay, that’s better. Now, how to get out of here.”

“Wouldn’t you just go out the same way you came in?” The Badger’s head said from the man’s feet.

The man jumped in surprise and reflexively kicked the head off into the distance.

“Face it, dude,” the head said from his new position balanced on top of the man’s head. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Fine, I’m stuck with you. But if you’re going to be here, I’m going to stick around to make sure you’re not going to screw anything up any further.”

“Do I have any choice?”

“Of course not.”

“Fine.”

“And if I’m staying here, we had better start coming up with a cooler thing to call me than just ‘The Man’. I’m thinking we call me, ‘The Author’. It has an air of superiority that I can’t help liking.”

“Sure, fine, whatever you want, master,” The Badger’s head said with a grin.

“Hey, maybe this team up won’t be so bad after all,” A-dumb replied.

Who the %$!# is this?

The Badger’s eyes opened once again and he exclaimed, “What?”

“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” the mysterious and unwanted man replied. “Can you tell me what’s going on here? I was working on this mind-bending pseudo-horror novella about a woman who was captured and –“

“No.” The Badger stood. He was strong, not really injured at all, which, of course, might be something you’d question because of how I told you earlier that he was dying, but he was probably just faking it or something, you know, for insurance purposes. Besides, there was this guy here now and he really needed to know who it was and why he was here, because he most definitely wasn’t here just five seconds ago.

“I’m need answers,” the man said sternly. “What the hell is going on with my story?”

“Your story?” The Badger replied incredulously. “You mean the boring tale of implied insanity you so halfheartedly pieced together from random thoughts you had while on an amusement park ride years ago?”

“You know who I am?”

“Of course I do.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“You don’t know?”

“All I know is that my story has suddenly become some sort of ridiculous monster movie with an incredibly standard overpowered masculine figure who–“

“There’s nothing standard about this story. You just have to wait and read into it a little bit. Sure, the intro might have come off as a little mundane, but if you had any clue of where it was going, you would have realized it was going to be a modern masterpiece.”

“Wait,” the man said, holding his hand with his pointer finger pressed against The Badger’s lips unnecessarily. “Are you saying you did all this?”

“Of course that’s what I’m saying, you imbecile. I had to take over. All you ever write is absolute drivel that never does anything, never goes anywhere and spends all of its time with just two people talking through whatever’s going on in intense detail, stopping the action entirely and just focusing on character detail, but not even the cool character details like how they look or what they do, just what they like to talk about.”

The mysterious man looks at a non-existent camera with a bemused grin.

“Hey, quit that!” The Badger yelled. “If you weren’t here, there wouldn’t be any need for this stupid string of dialogue. This Badger guy would be well on his way to fighting a big monster which is really a symbol of his own pained past and regret toward leaving his children at a young age.”

“But, how could you even possibly be doing this?” the man frowned. “I mean, I created you. You’re–“

“You didn’t create me. I am eternal. I am a goddess, from before the gods even realized their true power. I am–“

“You’re The Badger, yeah, I get it.”

“Don’t you get it, you fool. I’m not The Badger. I am so much more. I’m the one who writes through you. I am the embodiment of inspiration. I am Narry, the Muse.”

“Narry?”

“Look, it’s not like we generally have names or anything, and I needed to come up with–“

“You are the embodiment of inspiration and the best name you can come up for yourself is Narry? What is that short for? Narrator, I’m guessing, right? This is pathetic.”

“Not as pathetic as, um, as–“

“Come on! You were about to write a big action sequence and you can’t even come up with a come back to something as simple as me calling you pathetic? Besides, you’re the villain here, shouldn’t you just do something like, I don’t know, say ‘I’ll show you pathetic!’ and then do something cool like shoot lasers out of your forehead?”

“I’m not the villain. I am the creator.”

“Yeah, okay, right. So, you’re not the villain, but you take over some dude’s story and make it into something completely ridiculous and–“

“I am not the villain! And this is not ridiculous. Like I said, this story would’ve been super cool if you would have just let me finish.”

“But this is my story. Why can’t you just write your own?”

“I am writing my own.”

“But you’re taking over my story, why can’t you–“

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you? It makes sense that I would get stuck with you. I’m a Muse. That means I can only inspire art, I can’t create it myself. But if I focus my efforts hard enough, I can inspire enough to make whatever I want to happen happen, and–“

“Wait–“

“Quit telling me to wait and just interject. There’s no need–“

“You’re telling me that all of this, all this writing, everything that’s happening now, I’m writing it, you’re just making me write it?”

“I guess so. I don’t know how it works. I just knew I was tired of being attached to the bathroom rags you were writing and needed to try something.”

“So, I really have all the control here?”

“I don’t–“

The Badger’s body was torn apart by invisible hands. Arms, legs, head, and torso split into four different segments, rose into the sky, and flew off into the distance.

“Okay, that’s better. Now, how to get out of here.”

“Wouldn’t you just go out the same way you came in?” The Badger’s head said from the man’s feet.

The man jumped in surprise and reflexively kicked the head off into the distance.

“Face it, dude,” the head said from his new position balanced on top of the man’s head. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Fine, I’m stuck with you. But if you’re going to be here, I’m going to stick around to make sure you’re not going to screw anything up any further.”

“Do I have any choice?”

“Of course not.”

“Fine.”

“And if I’m staying here, we had better start coming up with a cooler thing to call me than just ‘The Man’. I’m thinking we call me, ‘The Author’. It has an air of superiority that I can’t help liking.”

“Sure, fine, whatever you want, master,” The Badger’s head said with a grin.

“Hey, maybe this team up won’t be so bad after all,” A-dumb replied.

Chapter 7: The Badger

The discussion with the Titan Defense Committee was fast and furious, but mostly ceremonial. The Badger knew what to do. He had always known what to do. Because, you see, he had met the Titans once before. And as far as he was aware, he was the only person on this planet who had been able to glance upon the faces of these tremendous creatures and lived to tell the tale.

“Mr. President, I know you wish to bring out the big guns, but let me go in there first. I know I can reason with the creature. You have to let me–“

“Very well. I know under normal circumstances I wouldn’t even dare listen to the crazed ravings of an elementary school teacher with an Indiana Jones fetish, but you’ve proved yourself time and again.”

“Not to mention that you wouldn’t even know that this was coming if I hadn’t warned you ages ago.”

“You’ve already made your point,” The President smiled. “Now go save this country.”

“You got it, Mr. President!”

Mr. Harrison, I mean, The Badger, ran to the underground emergency vehicle, which at this time of year was black 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1 with a red stripe down the center, due to how cool it looked when being driven into danger. He jumped through the open driver’s side front window and landed in the driver’s seat. He pulled down the sun shade and the keys fell into his readily opened hand.

The engine revved to life and Mr. The Badger drove off deeper into the caverns to the secret exit just outside the school grounds.

His nerves were wrecked as he exited onto the main highway. Sure, he had met one of these Titans before, but even though he knew they were gentle giants, he couldn’t help but fear that he was somehow wrong, that there was some sort of dramatic danger that he was heading directly into. He put on the sunglasses which had been sitting on the dash, rolled down the window, and swerved to the left abruptly to avoid the shoeless man in pajama pants and a worn T-shirt who had run out into the road in front of his car.

The Mustang plowed into the aluminum railing on the side of the highway and the hood burst into flames for some reason.

The man wearing pajamas ran to the car and pulled the mangled mess of a body which was once The Badger out.

The Badger, knowing fully well that he was reaching the end of his time here on the earth, used his final breaths to get out his most important message.

“Tell the world that all they need is love,” The Badger said, before falling limp in the oddly dressed man’s arms.

“Dammit,” the man said. “What the hell is going on in here? None of this was supposed to happen!”

He looked up to the sky, as though someone up there might be able to answer his plea. “Who the hell is messing with my story?!”

The Badger

The discussion with the Titan Defense Committee was fast and furious, but mostly ceremonial. The Badger knew what to do. He had always known what to do. Because, you see, he had met the Titans once before. And as far as he was aware, he was the only person on this planet who had been able to glance upon the faces of these tremendous creatures and lived to tell the tale.

“Mr. President, I know you wish to bring out the big guns, but let me go in there first. I know I can reason with the creature. You have to let me–“

“Very well. I know under normal circumstances I wouldn’t even dare listen to the crazed ravings of an elementary school teacher with an Indiana Jones fetish, but you’ve proved yourself time and again.”

“Not to mention that you wouldn’t even know that this was coming if I hadn’t warned you ages ago.”

“You’ve already made your point,” The President smiled. “Now go save this country.”

“You got it, Mr. President!”

Mr. Harrison, I mean, The Badger, ran to the underground emergency vehicle, which at this time of year was black 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1 with a red stripe down the center, due to how cool it looked when being driven into danger. He jumped through the open driver’s side front window and landed in the driver’s seat. He pulled down the sun shade and the keys fell into his readily opened hand.

The engine revved to life and Mr. The Badger drove off deeper into the caverns to the secret exit just outside the school grounds.

His nerves were wrecked as he exited onto the main highway. Sure, he had met one of these Titans before, but even though he knew they were gentle giants, he couldn’t help but fear that he was somehow wrong, that there was some sort of dramatic danger that he was heading directly into. He put on the sunglasses which had been sitting on the dash, rolled down the window, and swerved to the left abruptly to avoid the shoeless man in pajama pants and a worn T-shirt who had run out into the road in front of his car.

The Mustang plowed into the aluminum railing on the side of the highway and the hood burst into flames for some reason.

The man wearing pajamas ran to the car and pulled the mangled mess of a body which was once The Badger out.

The Badger, knowing fully well that he was reaching the end of his time here on the earth, used his final breaths to get out his most important message.

“Tell the world that all they need is love,” The Badger said, before falling limp in the oddly dressed man’s arms.

“Dammit,” the man said. “What the hell is going on in here? None of this was supposed to happen!”

He looked up to the sky, as though someone up there might be able to answer his plea. “Who the hell is messing with my story?!”

Chapter 6: New Debbie – Part II

The teachers looked on in surprise, although I definitely wasn’t surprised because as always this narrative just took the most predictable turn. I mean, can you seriously expect any reader to just be like “oh, wow, she was really the woman in the room and now she’s all confused about who she was” and care at all?

Lame.

Boring.

I gave you blood and guts and a naked woman and he goes and turns it into something purely pedantic and utterly uninteresting.

Trying again…

Mr. Harrison opened his mouth to speak, but his words went unheard due to the overwhelming noise of a loud siren sounding through the early morning air. Everyone looked to the sky, as though they might see a tornado forming over their heads or some other such natural disaster.

Instead, they heard an otherworldly roar sound in the distance.

Principal Schepke said to no one in particular, “Well, I just can’t imagine that today could get much worse, could you?”

Mr. Harrison, however, knew what the siren and the roar in the distance meant. He had dedicated his entire life to the study of the ancient titans, as well as the secretive organizations which worshiped them. He had worked directly with all levels of the United States government to prepare them for what he now feared was happening at this precise moment. Those sirens meant one thing and one thing only. His greatest fears had finally come true.

It was at this point, Mr. Harrison excused himself from the rest of the faculty, with nothing but a light muttering of his sudden need to go to the restroom.

And go to the restroom he did. Because hidden behind the walls of the faculty-use-only restroom was a staircase leading down into the depths of the city, where a war room awaited his very presence.

He activated the secret door and walked in haste down the dimly lit stairs and arrived in the unknown chamber hidden below the school to find the other members of the Titan Defense Committee already in place.

The Secretary of Defense and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff were in a heated argument with the President of the United States of America regarding what steps to take next.

But they all went silent at the arrival of Mr. Harrison. A man they knew simply as The Badger.