When I was six I decided my destiny was to take over the world. Contrary to popular belief, taking over the world does not include ruling over it. This is a misconceived notion that I find rather annoying. I do not want such responsibility nor would I ever choose for myself a job with such limitless annoyances. Taking over the world involves becoming one of the most important people in said world. Through the people’s love for me I shall have them at my beck and call and will, in essence, have taken over. It’s as simple as that and hardly a horrible thing as most people desire living their lives for a greater purpose. When that greater purpose is fawning over someone so obviously deserving as I, life, in a nutshell, is grand. Life in a conch shell isn’t all bad either. Life in a clam shell, however, will always leave much to be desired despite valiant attempts. There’s just no hope for it.
More than one person can take over the world at one time. There’s no real limit though tis best to keep the number down for all involved. Knowing this, I searched far and wide to discover other individuals who had enough perseverance, cleverness, shrewdness, and mad skillz, (and above all, a good quality waffle iron so I could return Ms. Jamima’s.) This was mainly achieved in the random assignment of roommates my first year in school. Hey, sometimes things work out for themselves, you know?
So why the trip down memory lane? Because subconsciously I was taking the stroll and reliving the past. I was reliving the shame and anger and dissatisfaction of my childhood and those events that led up to my decision. I find this very unfair. Any memory or reminder of my cursed childhood is just utterly cruel. Something inside me snaps and the raging inferno of suppressed emotion burns away until I wake up screaming and shouting and generally stomping around in a blind rage.
This is not a good thing to do in a van.
Meri shrieked and hauled out two knives from who knows where. She’s like a walking booby trap that way. I feel for the pickpocket who invades her space.
Mio, knowing Meri’s expertise with projectiles and sharp objects, immediately jumped away. She hit her head on the ceiling and began cussing it out with creative expletives I’d never even contemplated. Her movement caused a steaming cup of coffee to burst from a cupholder and land squarely in our driver’s lap. He let out a howl the likes of which any wolf would be proud. He also slammed his fist down on the dashboard. This caused a perfectly ordinary hula girl to fly off of the dash like a mini rocket into one of Meri’s bags. It fell off the rack and flipped in the air spilling a white powder over its owner and our driver. They both began sneezing violently.
In the midst of all this pandemonium I noticed that Mr. Sixties was no longer steering. I’m guessing that’s not so much a good thing.
I made a dive for the steering wheel, grabbed it, lost my grip, and landed on the floor with a thud. This caused the entire vehicle to swerve in a way I’d like not to experience again.
We slammed to a halt and he jumped to his feet. “Get out!” he shrieked. He stomped his foot. I was in a world of pain. “Get out, get out, get out! Right now!”.
“Get off, get off, get off! Right now!” I shrieked back.
He glanced down. His entire demeanor changed in that instant. He flashed me a smile with no trace of humor in it whatsoever and made to put more weight on my fingers. Before he could, he was sprawled on the seat in a stupor that may or may not have been caused by my Mio’s fist. I saw nothing. Really, officer.
Camry helped me to my feet. Meri rummaged in the van behind me for anything of worth. Mio surveyed her handiwork with a satisfied smile. “Slimey schmoe.” she said, and spit on his unconscious form.
“Nice punch.”
“Thank you.”
“I noticed that you positioned your feet a little differently than you usually do. Very spiffy.”
She nodded, bright eyed. “I’m trying out a new technique that I think will help with…” Her voice trailed off. Camry was eyeing us with a certain amount of unease. “What?” she snapped.
“You two are talking about this like it’s some sort of game.” he replied.
Oh no. He’s not gonna get all preachy on us. Not unless there’s some sort of reward at the end and I can think of little that would be worth it. Well, maybe a nice bubble bath. Bubble baths are always good.
I frowned. “Don’t be so serious. In the grand scheme of things it is a game. Like playing Monopoly except we don’t have any fake money or cardboard deeds or tiny little doggy statues… Okay, so it’s nothing like monopoly. That doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for everyone else.”
“I didn’t!”
“Spoilsport.”
“Zero.” His voice had a warning edge.
“Oh, come on! It was just a punch!”
“And theft and invasion of privacy. You can’t just play with other people’s lives. You can’t just talk about it in the same way you talk about some shopping spree.”
I was truly trying to make an effort to sort out the problem here. I just didn’t understand why Camry, of all people, suddenly had morals. “Well, it isn’t as though we’re going to kill him. We’re too civilized for that. Honestly, Camry, you’d think that you hadn’t any guts.” I paused. “Besides, I recall quite distinctly that you mugged me at one point in our relationship.”
He raised an eyebrow. “When?”
“I don’t remember it that distinctly.”
“I don’t remember it at all.”
I rolled my eyes. He wasn’t going to let this go. “Okay, so it never happened. But it was always a possibility.” I tried to sound sage and wise which can sometimes be quite attractive because it lends a sort of timeless elegance to a person. It’s always good to know your arsenal. However, this is difficult to do when you’re trying not to laugh so I just gave it up and bestowed him with a charming smile. “Everything is always a possibility. The worlds are built on possibilities. You can’t argue that.”
And he couldn’t. He considered. He gazed at me, opened his mouth, and then shut it again. He did this once more and then gave up.
Meri emerged from the van and placed a card in his hand thereby saving him from any further display. “Plastic is the only way to go.” she said, and grinned, “Especially when it’s someone else’s.” And then we ushered him off to go find us a suitable hotel. One that was ridiculously expensive and thus worthy of hosting us. Then it was our turn to make a nonchalant exit. We left the van and it’s occupant and glanced down the street which misfortune had seen fit to place us on.