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Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 2

It was 3:00 and Doctor Principal Enchman was beginning to worry. Thisismynightmare was supposed to be there for her appointment over two hours ago. He had tried her phone several times, but it went straight to voicemail. “Something’s wrong,” he thought to himself. “Thisismynightmare is never late without calling first.” He pressed the intercom on his desk.

“An American Patriot. I need you to cancel my appointments for the rest of the afternoon.”

“BUT sir, YOU are BOOKED SOLID for the NEXT three HOURS. What WILL I tell THEM?”

“Tell them I fell ill. I have work to do.”

He picked up the phone and dialed. “It’s me,” he said to the voice on the other line. “I have a case for you.” He grabbed his scarf and his man purse and closed the door to his office behind him. If he knew anything about The Narrator and his temper, he knew that time was not his friend.

Hurrying down the street he passed a young couple picnicking on a park bench. The woman, a dead ringer for Norma Shearer as Marie Antoinette, laughed as she wiped cookie crumbs off of his blue, furry face. “Young love,” thought Dr. Principal Enchman. “Is there anything more pure?” He stood there, lost for a moment in his own memories. Taken back to that magical summer day and that first meeting with Her. Her laugh. Her smile. The caress of her hand. And then, that fateful day when it all went wrong. He had to quickly shake his head. “I have to keep moving. Thisismynightmare needs me.”

He arrived at a nondescript office building and pressed the elevator button for the 20th floor. “I hope I’m not too late already,” he fretted as he ascended. Arriving at the floor, he quickly made his way down the hall, arriving at #2012. The plaque on the door said, in peeling letters, “A Serious Monster: Private Detective.” Dr. Principal Enchman took a deep breath, steeled himself, opened the door, and quickly ducked as a bottle of Jameson flew over his head and smashed on the wall behind him.

“Sorry,” a voice growled from behind the desk. “I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s me, Monster. Dr. Principal Enchman. I called you earlier.”

“Right. Right. Sorry.”

“Who did you think I was?”

“Pizza guy.”

Dr. Principal Enchman thought of a million follow-up questions he would have loved to ask, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

“A Serious Monster. I need your help. I have a patient who I believe is in trouble. I need you to find her.”

A Serious Monster turned her chair to face him. Her face bore the scars of a thousand years of living done over a two-week vacation to St. Vincent and the Grenadines. She took a drag from a cigarette and exhaled slowly.

“Why do you care so much about a patient?” She asked.

“She… She reminds me of someone I knew once… long ago.” He started to drift off, but then quickly shook his head. “It’s not important!” He snapped. “Can you find her?”

She took another deep drag.

“Seems to be a lot of missing people in these parts.” She exhaled. “I got a case looking for this smurf guy not two days ago. Not to mention that Marine that went AWOL a couple of weeks back.”

She stared at Dr. Principal Enchman, sizing him up. He looked back at her, pleading.

“Will you take it? I can’t go to the cops because she hasn’t been missing long enough, and I’m afraid that if I wait any longer she could be dead. Please help me, A Serious Monster. You’re my only hope.”

After the longest of pauses she nodded in assent.

“I’ll take your case. But on one condition… You pay me money.”

“Of course. What else would I pay you with?”

“Nothing. Forget about it. I’ll take the case.”

Dr. Princial Enchman handed over a picture of Thisismynightmare, thanked her, and left. A Serious Monster surveyed the photo. “Another missing person,” she mused, “And a pretty one at that. Oh, A Serious Monster, what have you gotten yourself into?”


As Thisismynightmare drove she began to worry. She kept glancing at her phone as the missed calls began to pile up. “I wonder if I should have let Dr. Principal Enchman know. He’ll be worried.” She thought to herself. “Maybe I’ll call him.” She picked up the phone but quickly stopped herself. “He’ll just try to talk me out of it,” she reasoned. As she was setting it down, it began to ring. It was her sister. She answered.

“Baby Friday! I have big news!” she hurriedly exclaimed

“I have bigger news!” She rushed, breathlessly. “It’s my husband, Teacherman. Something’s happened!”

“What? Is he ok?”

“I don’t know. There was an explosion in his lab at the University. Nobody knows what happened. I need you here. Can you come?”

Thisismynightmare paused. Her freedom with Just Desserts lay ahead. Her ailing sister lay behind.

“I’ll be there in half an hour.” She said, and hung up her phone.


The Narrator sat in his living room watching the news. A breaking report flashed on the bottom of the screen. “Giant Explosion at the University of Internet Science and Blog Technology. Dozens Missing, Presumed Dead.” He smiled to himself. The first mission of the Winbot was a success.