Dogs Don't Roll Over
Written by: Alex Sandell
I've Got The Whole World In My Hands
After letting the giants prophetic words hang in the air for a minute, I get up, and exit the E.M.Ts room. Right before opening the door to the gaming floor, I feel a cold hand, tightly grasping my shoulder. After jumping about thirty-feet, I turn around and see the scrawny, quiet E.M.T. standing behind me. "Sorry," he mumbles, under his breath, "I didnt mean to sneak up on you."
"What do you need?" I ask. The quiet guy takes a while to think about it, then begins speaking. "I just wanted to tell you that youre doing good. At least under the circumstances. You really havent been told much." "Uh, okay," I say, while trying to politely vacate the area. I start opening the door to the gaming world, when Mr. E.M.T. decides to move on with this "conversation." "I know how you can stop them," he tells me. I turn back to face the guy, coming to terms with the fact that Im not going to just "get away."
When I look him in the eye, I get the same feeling I would from standing in front of a freezer, old rag in hand, knowing the next two hours of my life is going to be spent picking at, and scrubbing up, the frozen can of strawberry soda that exploded in there last week. "Stop who?" I ask, feeling as if I already know the answer, even though I probably dont have the first clue. "Them," is all the scrawny E.M.T. says. "Well," I say, becoming annoyed with all of these indirect answers, "theres an awful lot of them running around, wouldnt you say? Which them is the them that were currently talking about?
"The only them that matters," answers the scrawny guy, never once changing the cryptic expression that has covered his face since I woke from my fainting spell. "Sorry," I look down at the E.M.T.s nametag, "Bilbo, that didnt help. Im still not sure if were speaking of the same them. I think Im talking about THEM!, while youre actually thinking of them." Bilbo goes silent, looking slightly confused.
He looks at the camera staring down at us, cups his hand over my ear, and begins whispering to me. "The people behind the Armageddon." "WHAT?!?" I nearly scream, forgetting the cameras, and microphones that are recording my every gesture, sound, and movement. "What part of Armageddon dont you understand?" Bilbo asks, getting cockier with every word. Still, I cant help feeling sorry for him, going through life as a "Bilbo" couldnt be very easy.
"I dont know," I say, putting on my "stupid" voice, "well, maybe I do. Yeah, I think I know what Armageddon is, its like the last battle between good and evil, right?" I shake my head over this need that I have, to make everyone else feel superior to me, by asking them to confirm something Ive known since entering Parochial school, as a five-year-old. What God-fearing Catholic doesnt know about the upcoming Armageddon? Things like gigantic battles between good and evil, is second nature to me. I was taught to be terrified. Its Christian!
"Yes, thats pretty much what it is," says E.M.T. Bilbo, obviously proud of his superior knowledge in all things Armageddon. "But theres a difference from what you were taught as a Catholic schoolboy." I feel all the blood leaving my face, as Bilbo speaks. This is just so, I dont know, "freaky," to have all these strangers knowing everything about me. The E.M.T. continues, "its good vs. evil, the only problem is, youre the good." "Im the only good?" I ask, thinking of all my ex-girlfriends, the rich people in high stakes, and Richard. Maybe this isnt really that much of a revelation, after-all. "Not exactly, but youre the only good that can control the evil."
My mind begins spinning in circles. "I cant even tie my shoes, right. How can I control the evil?" "Its your mind. Youve been this way since birth." I wonder when hes going to tell me that Im one of the Lords "special" people.
"The concept is too big to explain to you, in your present form." I push out the small, yet increasingly visible gut that Ive been working on since graduating high school. "There, is this better?" The scrawny little dork of an E.M.T. finally changes his expression a bit - from cryptic, to pissed off. "This isnt a joking matter. The fate of humanity is in your hands."
I look at my hands, thinking of all the lonely evenings Ive popped in a video, and used them for less than saintly activities, and bust out laughing. "I told you this isnt a joking manner." "Look," I say, taking a turn at being frustrated, "Im not Allstate, these hands are nothing. The greatest thing Ive ever accomplished with these hands is beating Super Mario Bros. without using any warps." "Its not what youve done, that matters," says Bilbo, the scrawny E.M.T., "its what youre going to do."
Go to: Chapter 50
©1997 Alex Sandell but, if you're a book publisher and, you wanna get this puppy out, please get in touch with me, hand me a nice, big contract and, of course, a 12 pack of Grape Soda and maybe we can do lunch.
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