|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- FOREMAN ITTENER PIER--CUP 21--"REAL MAD" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  Foreman Ittener Pier  ||  -------> (Cup SRfi021, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = I waited in the motel office for something to happen. I could barely see a guy in a back room, talking on the phone and watching TV. I made a few attempts to get his attention politely, as in clearing my throat and rustling some brochures. Finally, I just yelled "Hello?" The guy looked at me with an annoyed glance and turned back to his TV and continued his conversation. Then I got mad. Real mad. Too mad. I opened the gate, went behind the counter, and then slammed open the partially-opened door to the back room. I looked at the guy, saw his motel name tag and became furious. I raised my fist, and summoning some superstrength, slammed it into the TV set, backhand. A shower of sparks came out of the thing as it splintered and sputtered and died. Then I grabbed phone out of his hand and crumbled it into tiny pieces in my superstrong hands. "You have a customer!" I boomed from superstrong vocal chords, reducing the little creep to a quivering fetal mass. I took a wad of bills out of my pocket and tossed about $2000 on the couch, next to the guy. "That should take care of the damage. And then some." I said in a more human tone. "Now check me in." I stepped out of the room, behind the counter, then back to the lobby area. Shaking, the guy followed me and stood at his post. "What was the problem?" I asked him. He tried to respond, but all that out was a sort of "ughgh" grunt. I grabbed the guy by his collar and got in his face. "It's simple." I said. "You do your job and check me in. Then you sit tight, fantasize on how you're gonna spend that money I gave ya, and tomorrow morning I'm gone, out of your life forever. Do something stupid though--like call the authorities or whatever--and you won't live long enough to spend one green cent of that money. You got me?" The guy quickly nodded. I felt bad to be acting like this--it really wasn't me. The stresses of time travel, I supposed. So the guy, shivering in fear, checked me in and gave me the key to my room. Then, in a pathetic and miserable manner, he said, "There won't be any trouble. And I... I'm sorry. The guy after me never came in--so I figured... uh..." "Don't worry about it." I said. "You just caught me at a really bad time." The guy nodded and I was back out into the chilly night. I found the room, unlocked the door, and grasped the handle. Just as I did this, a weird feeling swept through me. I knew something was wrong, but it wasn't any sort of psychic or other phenomenon I was familiar with. But I was feeling pretty omnipotent right then, so I just opened the door, found a light switch, threw it open, and strode into the room. For a bare instant, I didn't see anything wrong. Then--a big comfy chair facing the window--something--something on the armrest--plaid cloth--hay--crazy. I shuffled to my right, behind one of the beds, trying to get a better look without getting any closer. I saw some more of what looked like an arm, and I was puzzled for about a half-second--until a horrifying face turned toward me and stared. It was familiar to me--I'd seen it in the Overwhelm intelligence file on one of the rival Aconck companies, The Unreal Sixty-Four. This guy--this scarecrow--was one of their operatives. They all wore some kind of weird costume, and this guy was a hay-stuffed evil scarecrow sort of a guy. I forgot his name, but I knew he was a dangerous motherfucker. So I mentally summoned a surge of superstrength and stood ready. "Doesn't Thewsike give you an expense account? Isn't it embarrassing to have to sleep in other people's motel rooms?" I said, realizing it wasn't the best wise-ass banter--but it was passable. "I... don't work with Polk Thewsike any more." the scarecrow said in a normal-sounding voice. "So why are you still wearing that stupid costume?" "It's not like that." "What is it like?" The scarecrow stood up and I got into my best battle stance. He held up his hand, though, and spoke. "I mean you no harm. I just want your help." "How the hell did you get here?" "This... panoply... has some amazing abilities. I could see you and your friend from a long ways off. You stood out like a blazing meteor in the vastness of Aconck. I see that your friend isn't an Overwhelm Primate though. And there's something else--a beast?" "Look buddy..." "My name is Carroll Mammock. Overwhelm probably has a sizable file on me." "Yeah well, I don't know about that. But why--why should I believe what you're saying?" "I don't know. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe once I explain my situation to you, it won't be necessary to trust me." I thought about that. -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----