[four_fifth]
“Good Grief” Thought the Skillful Henchman, Oxxy, uttering rational prayers to the Great Dwarf. All because a happily married resident alien was found missing in the affordable housing section of the Guild Hall. Only a minor catastrophe, no? “I wish I were legally drunk, I hate small crowds.” This Henchman had an exact estimate about this meeting about the living dead, but it was a near miss from the get-go. “Act Naturally” he told himself as he wondered if Crysania gave Death Benefits. He almost exactly had a genuine imitation of what was going to happen. A Definite Maybe. “It’s all the same difference in the end…everything except…nevermind.” He didn’t want to be alone together with her. He was clearly misunderstood, but knew she might not be so terribly pleased. “Pretty ugly” he warned himself. He scarfed down a twelve-ounce pound cake on the way and dreamt of his freezer burned diet ice-cream at home. Maybe he would have a working vacation? Doubtful, he’ll be a part of the loners club soon enough. “Now, Then” he began to himself, “Maybe this will be more passive aggressive stuff, neo-classical guild leader…” he allowed such sweet sorrow to fill his mind. “I have my plastic glasses and my tight slacks on” his spirit rose. “on the other hand, She’ll send me back to Advanced Basic and into a Great Depression” he pouted. “I really like being a part of military intelligence, Silent Scream Company.” He shrugged. Either way I’ll get to listen to my soft rock, taped Live. The mundane horror hit him…”unless she sends me on some peace force, some holy war of religious tolerance.” He shook his head as he remembered they found the Grail already. “I’ll come out of this new and improved” he pretended. “After all, Death is Temporary.” He collected himself before he knocked with casual urgency. His cold sweat spreading post-haste. “I hope she has a thing for blondes” he said, shortly before having Déjà vu in this tiny expanse. “Her vaulted flat is one step short of amazing though…” his controlled delirium was showing now. His simmering mania would show through eventually, but how long will his exhausted vigor last? “Active Retirement!” he declared, hoping beyond hope. He is an anxious patient who is agreeing to disagree with apathetic interest. He was almost ready, building a sort of arrogant humility approximately equal to his common sense ideas of the balanced insanity and controlled chaos that is Crysania. He wanted to play it dangerously safe but he was drawing a blank. He would just hit her with a detailed summary in a dynamic monotone presentation, something extremely neutral. He had this numbing sensation. There she was, standing there waiting. His rehearsed improvisation has only lead to negative momentum. His traditionally radical quiet riot reduced to thunderous silence, he was beside himself and upside down. He would give a sincere lie and offer a sad smile, one specifically vague. Here came the force choke. Wait. Nothing. He opened his eyes. Crysania must have got tired of waiting and went back inside. “Never again” he muttered aloud. “ENTER!” Crysania yelled Oxxy entered, mustering a little false hope.
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[one_fifth_last]
Episode# 10
19 May 2010
Notes: this was fun to write.
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