Pt 31: The Rester

Tempted to stop along the trail of life, I found myself giving in to the draw of a slothful existence. Letting myself down with a tremendous thump I sat and rested upon a grassy knoll and was content. Hours passed, days, years. An epoch came and went and all that came with it passed me upon my grassy knoll. My existence and identity as The Rester keeping me bound in place. Never progressing, never improving. NEVER. What a word. To not ever. From here to infinity not being, not doing. Time stretching thin moving onward but never for me. As I sat now uncomfortably not doing anything to relieve my discomfort for I had now taken on the never that dominated my life as an identity. I was never going to improve I would never be more than the never had made me, which is to say nothing. I had become a stranger to myself. I was scared of the nothing I had become and felt that I would need to be better to become the me that was. Though I wouldn't be more than what the never said I would be. And there I stayed.

Then, a sound more pure than had ever passed before came and invaded my space of nothing. This song, a plan and it's owner, determination personified. A strength, the never could never be, came swelling into my nothingness and with a great lethargic push I heaved my lumbering form out of the doldrums and from off my grassy knoll I had inhabited for so long. Time starts, the world lurches, and my ability to continue on is found. Eve the song ringing in my ears. Determination at my side keeping me forward. Her voice pure, her face fair Determination keeps me on a path of being the never having fallen at the wayside. Now time continues and I follow, I push on, I live.

Pt 30: The Memory

Tuesday June 14th, 2016
7:19 am (7 3/7 hours of sleep)

Tashna Duroxi couldn't feel her toes. Sleeping in the box car was proving more and more perilous as the seasons changed. She would need to do find some other arrangements. Perhaps one with actual blankets and maybe a fire.

As she sat there massaging her feet attempting to bring back circulation, she felt something, some knowledge, sitting at the back of her mind just out of reach. She wracked her brain. What was it? She felt it was important. Something having to do with a purpose in life. Was it a childhood aspiration? The piece of information slunk further back into the shadowy recesses of her mind. Ah well, it couldn't be helped at the moment and she wasn't going to bring herself to the edge of madness to figure it out. Besides, she had other problems than a bad memory. Her brother wouldn't speak to her anymore. Being an outcast of society did that to a person. It didn't matter that they were each other's final remaining relatives. Now that she was and had been homeless for... how long had she been homeless? It must have been a while as she couldn't rightly remember.

Feeling frustrated with herself and with blood returning to her toes, Tashna got up to her feet and hobbled over to the train station where her car was permanently parked. There Hurio Nipter the night watchman and closest thing Tashna had to a friend sat reading, as usual. As Tashna approached Hurio he placed his book to the side, a look of concern playing across his face.

"You need to sleep somewhere safer, my friend."

A faint smile passed across her lips as she dropped herself down next to him on the bench.

"You're right. I do need to get out of here. I need a job though. Is your security company hiring?"

"What, you want to sit here and watch for ruffians like yourself?"

"Well, I'm just looking for options."

Hurio let out a sigh and gave a deep nod.

"Well, it's probably time you got back to your box car. I'll bring a blanket around if I find one."

Something about Hurio's last statement made Tashna tense up. The thing sitting in her mind danced about wanting to be found yet still out of reach. Frustration and anger welled up inside her and with one fluid precise motion she pinned Hurio to the wall lifting him ever so slightly off the ground. Hurio's eyes went wide grabbing his walky talky he yelled, " Safe words were ineffective. Subject is on the loose without a han..." Tashna swung a fist around knocking the man unconscience with a blow to his temple. Stepping away from her supposed friend she knew she needed to find out what was going on. She ran off into the night.

Post 29: The Virus

Monday June 13th, 2016
6:31 am (6 1/2 hours of sleep)

Turtle down lovers walked silently along the river. Never had one so urgently been placed along paths and byways to intercept knowledge kept for other men. Hampered by their own declarations of love, those from the Palisades could never go beyond just a courtship phase in life.

Trailing urgently behind the rest, Tvlakthin never could find someone to accept his somewhat abrasive personality. Only the duchess would appreciate someone with his particular character flaws and she was much his superior. No, they could never be. He would live a life alone wandering from petty interest to even more empty pursuit. Thoughts of melancholy possibilities would leap unbidden to his mind. It was time to pursue another one of the sciences. Those seemed to always take his mind off of his unused heart.

He gathered several books of various branches within the sciences studying each in turn until he felt himself gravitate to one particular pursuit. This time he would study microbiology. The world of the miniscule was of particular interest to him.

After months locked away in extensive study of what lay beyond the naked eye, he found within his collection of microbes and viruses, a particularly virulent strain of the kluthbrek virus. Deadly if directly exposed to any part of the body, the kluthbrek virus had been known to kill a grown and healthy person within days of initial infection. How Tvlakthin hadn't caught it himself before it's discovery, he didn't know.

After much cultivation by building up the viruses natural defenses against the medicinal, Tvlakthin decided it was time to leave his legacy. If he couldn't know the love of another then no one could.

After carefully bottling up the means to everyone's end, he set out for the large city of Delthekin. It would be in the center of the city's market, cultural hub of the planet, that Tvlakthin would release what had consumed all of his time of late.

After throwing the glass canister through the crowd and watching the thing break, Tvlakthin made a hasty retreat. He didn't stop running until he arrived at his hermetically sealed laboratory and had locked himself inside. There was enough food and clean water for him to wait out the destruction of all he had ever known.

A time and some passed. Was it years? Was it decades? He had no idea, not being particularly fond of schedules or calendars there would no way for him of knowing. Debating with himself the effectiveness of the virus he spent days and weeks yelling at nothing but the thin recycled air. Finally, he decided. It was time to see what had become of it all.

Bypassing safety protocols and opening his great steel hatch with shaking hands, he emerged out in to a cool crisp autumn evening. He knew not of what lay ahead.

Pt 28: Flimsy and Pretty Stupid

Sunday June 12th, 2016
7:28 am (5 7/8 hours of sleep)

Bolstering the defenses of our people would be essential in order for our continued survival. The Qualidoths were coming and they would take no prisoners. What our people need is another hero to bolster their hopes and dreams. What they need is for someone to help save those around them.

Cat salesmen are the corner stones of our local economy. Continuing their efforts would help boost the war effort. Romance as well would help our continued survival. Hiding in the cereal aisle of the supermarket would give us the chance at a last stand. The sugary carbs contained within the pulpy cardboard boxes would prove to be an effective out if all went south.

Feeling forced to make more of his cosmic dolls, Ryan Blomquist found he never made his own decisions in life. This would prove to be his final hour. His grandchildren would wonder how they existed in the first place as the cosmic dolls were flimsy and pretty stupid.

What kind of ice cream loving monster would leave a woman to fend for herself in the face of a horde of manticores? Tune in next time to find out!

Previously on Terry's Got a Gun.

Malana: "You can't do this to me Laquisha!"

Laquisha: "I don't have a choice Malana! He's going to impersonate my long dead husband!"

Malana: "No! How could he when I'm standing right here?"

Laquisha: "Trey? Is that really you standing there, hunny?"

Malana: "I thought you were dead!"

Trey: "I had to fake my death to find Malana's true intentions."

Laquisha: "Malana, what is he talking about?"

Malana: "I'm sorry Laquisha. I didn't want you to find out this way."

Laquisha: "What did you do?!"

Malana: "I may have killed your second husband and his doctor to get at your millions but then you met Trey who ended up being a genuinely nice guy. However, when he supposedly died I figured I still had a chance at the money."

Laquisha: "What? That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I declared bankruptcy a few days ago."

Malana: "Oh, well... this is awkward."

Laquisha: "Isn't it though?"

Malana: "Yeah, I think I'm going to go."

Trey: "Yeeeeeaaaah, me too."

Pt 27: Fantastic Hemispheres

Saturday June 11th, 2016
7:23 am (6 hours of sleep)

A spring chicken lights up the room with intense precision.

"It's time to meet the other transients" Imogen muttered. Something in the atmosphere shifted and a field of hyper magnetism kicked into high gear creating a giant metal ball of glittering doom.

By following two simple rules of the road, a man was able to save twenty something fake rubber chickens from certain death. It was time to take back the level of artistry that had disappeared in recent years.

Time was short. Nobody in the world could make it shorter than Fast Forward Freddy. The man could speed up time. Talented though he was, the people in his vicinity would all die the sooner if he decided to use his gift at that point in time.

Fantastic Hemispheres is one of the hits of teen pop sensation, The Glitter Bombs.

Total relocation was necessary to bring most people to a safe zone as this part of the planet was ready to break off. This would cause a chain reaction of misunderstanding among the elite class as they scrambled to find a safe zone and ultimately failed miserably.

Time and again the temptation to just cut the drapes in the royal palace of finery and drabble drables. It was time to move. Changing locations and possibly names might not help as time was growing short and nobody had any idea of where to go.

Time and again they stood there waiting to follow their passions and weird obsessions. Only those that knew to know could know what they knew as nobody else would.

Finally a person could stand to lose a few inches. "Normal" people were something of an anomaly to most of the freaks of the underneath. How could Sammy have known what kind of person was left on the brink of discovery only to back away due to a feeling of familiarity and safety? How could it be that "every man for himself" created a cohesive unit of mass hysteria and chaos? It was as if the very phrase brought people together to work towards a singular goal of complete and utter disarray.

Pt 26: The Spire

Friday June 10th, 2016
8:27 am (6 5/8 hours of sleep)

Jutting like a spear tip aimed toward the heavens, the Bureaucratic Spire loomed ahead waiting for me. I was late for my appointment with this realities grounds keeper. I had a matter of universal security to discuss with her. At least that was the story that got me the appointment.

Built with granite and marble, the inside of The Spire was depressingly similar to many of the Universal Management & Maintenance buildings I had seen and subsequently destroyed. It turns out most alternate universes were, but for slight differences, the exact same. While yet others were completely and frighteningly different. It would seem the universe that housed The Spire was one of the "normal" universes. I would have no remorse for the destruction of this reality.

The grounds keeper's personal assistant met me in the lobby and with no more than a cursory glance to my person proceeded to escort me further up and in to that bureaucratic nightmare. Short cubicles crammed in to tight office spaces with workers sitting shoulder to shoulder drudging along in their near slave labor of filing and stamping.

After a few floors and more depressed people than I ever care to see, the Personal Assistant left me standing outside an unassuming door marked with nothing more than the interdimensional symbol for custodial and maintenance of the universe. After less than an hour but more than twenty minutes, the door swung open and a voice like a mouse ushered me forth.

The High Custodian Mistress Ballia Turonga, as was her full title, sat behind a panel inset to her desk. The panel looked remarkably similar to the one I had interacted with on my first adventure in the back rooms of reality so many universes ago. It had all manners of buttons, levers, lights, and other pieces of mechanical instrumentation and was going about its merry way with just some guidance from The Mistress.

She sat there, an eye of disapproving appraisal cast over me as she asked me the nature of the emergency that brought me forth. Not very many people were supposed to know of the Ministry of Universal Management & Maintenance. My reply came, as I took a small step with each word. Having heard my concocted impending disaster and found it lacking, she shook her head and lightly pressed a button labeled 'security'.

I knew I didn't have much time. Shooting forward and shoving Mistress Turonga over, I looked for that unlabeled lever. Though I had found in many other realities with many other panels that the color changed, there was always an unlabeled lever which would spell certain doom for whichever reality housed it. With searching eyes I finally came across it, the color of forest green. Putting my entire bodily weight into the switching of that lever, a familiar light changed the colors of the room and that cacophonous roar upon rising up, put a smile on my lips. As emotions drained from the room, the Mistress screamed at me, the sounds of which never reached my ears. I let out a hearty laugh as the universe collapsed around me. I was one step closer to home.

Pt 25: House Gnomes

Thursday June 9th, 2016
8:11 am (3 7/8 hours of sleep)

Why must one be woken? Why must one be roused?

Alarms rose within my head. The lord of the house had been slain and a new governor was to be appointed. Tommy Twelve Mist Toes was livid with translucent excitement. It had been far too long since Vilacuddra had been to work in the outlying provinces. Slightly aroused and not the least bit confused, I found information fleeting and not at all helpful.

Taken by masters of unseen force, Pellin felt her fate was not entirely her own. Deadly pantomimes had found everything there was to know about her cart's inner workings. Not one but two officers had been missing of late.

Had it really taken me this long to realize the game that was afoot? What kinds of people could you muster these days? Loyal people of good standing willing to go to the grave with your secrets? How many men had claimed as such? Why were the killings persisting?

No answers came as I called out for a friend in the night. What kinds of people was I making alligences with?

Terry Bufont had the scuttling wariness and beady eyes of a crayfish. He would definitely be one of the first to betray me.

Eva Langorum was a conniving young thing. Though how much physical torture she would be able to withstand, I do not know. Not much, is my assumption.

The Templetons had several court wizards at their disposal. This would give them the chance of holding out well after the riots had started. Though it was just a matter of time until they too were captured or executed.

Tommy Treakleman was an exceptional gambler and quite the spirited liar. He had the greatest chance of escape from the rebellion's trappings. He would be the man I would choose to bring my secret forward unto a new world.

The house gnomes of Prelen Prix't would prove difficult to ignore. However, some salt and a good eye for change could bring any short mythical creatures down.