Vasuvius and Brock (Episode One, Part Four)

Rhonda:  Just wait here a minute.  [She goes off to her bedroom]

Vasuvius:  So, my young friend, what do you think of our hostess.

Brock [blushing slightly]:  She is pretty and kind.  I am glad we are here to help her, though I hope we will not need to.  I cannot believe two unrelated, unmarried women are living alone together without any need for protection.

Vasuvius:  Yes, yes, but you mean to say she no longer appears boyish to you?

Brock [blushing more]:  Master, such comments are not appropriate while we are taking shelter under her roof.

Vasuvius [smiling]:  I believe this roof belongs to many, but still, I will "cut you a break" as I think they say in this region.

Brock:  Huh?

Rhonda [returning with a laptop]:  Alright, boys, gather around.

Vasuvius:  Now what might this be?

Rhonda:  This is a computer.  [She sits it on the dining table nearby]

Vasuvius [walking over]:  Now I must admit, this is not something I have seen before.  [Rhonda opens the laptop and the screen lights up]  Oh my, it is like a more compact version of the television.

Rhonda:  Yes, except it is much more interactive.  [She puts her fingers on the keyboard to enter her password and then glances at the two who are now hovering over her shoulder.]  Don't watch this part.

Brock:  Why not?

Rhonda:  It's personal.

Brock:  My apologies.  [He glances away, as does Vasuvius, but Vasuvius glances back as Rhonda hits the enter key and her machine starts to load]

Rhonda:  Okay

Brock [turning back]:  There's a painting!  But what are all those things [he points at an icon on the desktop, nearly touching the screen]

Rhonda [pushing his hand away]:  Don't touch the screen, you would damage it.

Brock [blushing, yet again]:  My apologies.

Rhonda:  You want to know where the library is.  We can look it up here.  [She opens a web browser and types 'Public Library']

Vasuvius:  It's printing information right on the screen!  So you tell it what you want to know about and then what are all those things.

Rhonda:  Links, to websites.

Vasuvius:  I'm not familiar with this term.

Rhonda:  Well you were interested in books.  They're kind of like books stored inside the computer.

Vasuvius:  Books are stored inside there?  All books?

Rhonda [shaking her head]:  No, not all books.  And it's not always free or easy to get the books either.  But anyway, here's what we're looking for.  [She clicks on a link for a map giving the location of the main library.]  There it is.

Vasuvius:  I just need some coordinates, distances.  You measure things in miles?  That is a measure of distance?

Rhonda:  Yes.

Vasuvius:  I don't suppose you know how many collets that is?

Rhonda [shaking her head]:  Not a clue.

Vasuvius:  Hmm.  Well a collet is approximately the distance a man can walk on foot in one tenth-a-day.  Does that help?

Rhonda:  I find it unlikely that you measure days the same way we do.

Vasuvius:  Yes, I suppose you are right.  I had not anticipated this complication.  [Frowning]  Perhaps I will have to travel by foot after all.

Brock [perking up]  Or we could go in one of those horseless carriages again.  A bus was it called?

Vasuvius:  You and your horseless carriages.

Brock:  They are fascinating!  And so fast!

Vasuvius:  I find this device quite a lot more interesting myself [pointing to the laptop] but if you would like to come with and help me find the books I need, we can certainly go by bus.  [Looking at Rhonda]  Could you kindly direct us to a bus then, my lady?

Rhonda:  Well, I haven't let you two out of my sight yet...

Brock:  Other than when you went to fetch this device [pointing at laptop]

Vasuvius:  Or when I demonstrated my teleportation ability.

Rhonda [with a sigh]:  Yes, other than those.  My point was that I would be happy to accompany you.

Vasuvius:  That is quite generous of you, my Lady.  And as compensation, I will gladly pay for our passage this time [Holds our a fan of dollar bills he has conjured up]

Rhonda:  You know what?  What the heck.  If you two are offering to pay for stuff, I might as well take you up on it.

Vasuvius [bowing slightly]:  A wise decision, my Lady.

Rhonda [closing her laptop]:  You know, I think maybe I could get used to this 'my Lady' stuff.

Brock [smiling]:  Of course, my Lady.

[Rhonda glances at him with a look of mild amusement/annoyance at which point he looks away]

Rhonda:  Come on.  [She leads them out the door, grabbing her keys and locking up behind her on her way out.  They walk back to the bus station as Brock and Vasuvius whisper a bit and then Brock asks some random questions about things they see along the way.  They arrive at the bus station and Rhonda glances at her watch.]  We left before I thought to actually check the schedule or see if we needed to transfer to get closer to the library.  I guess I might as well check now.  [She pulls out her smartphone and then looks up to see Vasuvuis and Brock both staring at her.]  Let's just say it's magic.  [She does a search for the schedule while Vasuvius tries to look over her shoulder and Brock keeps a safe distance.]  This should be fine.  [She puts the phone away and Vasuvius backs up.]  Should be just a few minutes.

Vasuvuis:  Oh good.  Then perhaps I can determine the exact duration of a minute.

Rhonda:  I can show you that.  [She holds out her arm to show him her wrist watch].  You have these where you're from?

Brock [looking over as well]:  Looks like a pocket watch, but much smaller.

Rhonda:  It's a wrist watch.  Anyway, a minute is the time for this little thing [points to second hand] to go all the way around once.

Vasuvius:  Fascinating.

Brock [Looking over at him]:  Is this really that fascinating, Master.

Vasuvius [Looking up at him]:  Everything is fascinating, my boy, if you know how to approach it.

[They wait a while longer with Vasuvius staring a bit awkwardly at Rhonda's wrist watch while Brock glances at Rhonda from time to time and Rhonda looks first at Vasuvius, then at Brock, and then at the bus stop.]

Rhonda:  I still can't believe this is happening.

Brock:  Neither can we.

Vasuvius [looking up]:  Might that be the bus approaching?

Rhonda:  I believe it is.

[The bus arrives, they get on and pay their dues, sit near the back.]

Rhonda [in a whisper]:  I mean you guys are from another world, supposedly, and here we are riding a bus to the library.  Isn't that just mind-blowing?

Brock:  I don't think so.  What would you expect us to do?

Rhonda:  I don't know.

Vasuvius:  Brock just wants to get home.  This is currently our best approach to help him do so.

Brock:  It's not just me.  You want to get home, too.

Vasuvius:  Yes, eventually, but I wouldn't mind investigating this world a little more first.

Brock [glancing at Rhonda]:  Yes, I suppose I wouldn't mind that much myself.  [Rhonda laughs a little to herself and shakes her head as she smiles.]

[They ride the bus, mostly in silence, through several stops until Rhonda tells them the next stop is theirs.  They get off the bus, nodding politely to the driver on their way off, and start walking.]

Rhonda:  It's a few blocks to the library, but I figured that would be easier to walk than to catch another bus.

Brock:  I am quite good at walking.  It was our main means of transport back home.

Rhonda:  You didn't have a horse or something?

Brock:  Sometimes, but they were often more trouble than they were worth, with neither of us being particularly good at handling them and thieves trying to steal them.

Vasuvius:  They were quite valuable creatures.

Rhonda:  Couldn't you just conjure up money to buy a new one like you did here?

Vasuvius:  To some extent, but it was not necessary.

Rhonda:  Unlike now with your dollar bills?

Vasuvius:  Of course.

Rhonda:  Interesting morality.

Vasuvius [cocking his head a bit to the side]:  Is it?

Brock [stopping dead in his tracks and pointing]:  Master, look!

Vasuvius [looking where Brock is pointing to see a bag lady pushing a large shopping cart along]:  What is it you notice, lad?

Brock:  Don't you see?

Vasuvius [after looking in silence for a moment]:  But that's impossible.

Rhonda [looking as well]:  What?  It's just some homeless woman.

Vasuvius [shaking his head]:  Perhaps, but it doesn't appear to be so to us.

Rhonda:  What do you mean?  What does it appear to be to you?

Brock [in a completely serious voice]:  A witch.

Rhonda [instinctively laughing]:  A witch?  Like with a broomstick and warts and stuff?

Brock [looking at her with a confused look]:  I don't think so.  A witch is a magic user, like Vasuvius...

Vasuvius:  But quite unlike Vasuvius, she tends to use her powers for ill and harm.  Curses and such.  The presence of a witch could mean great danger, but it could also potentially mean a way home.  She had to have gotten here somehow.  Perhaps we can compel her to tell us how to get home.

Brock [reaching to his back where his sword has been hidden this whole time]:  I can be quite persuasive if needed, Master.

Vasuvius:  It might not come to that.  If we can get the jump on her, perhaps I can make use of a spell to convince her to tell us what she knows.

Brock:  But, Master, you haven't mastered the truth spell yet!  When you tried it on me last week, I was able to answer nearly half of your questions with lies.

Vasuvius [shrugging]:  Well, we need to do something.  She's getting away.

Brock:  Indeed.

Rhonda:  You two are crazy.

Brock [turning back to look at her]:  Maybe, but even apart from us trying to get home, a witch walking about on your streets could be a very bad situation for your fair city.  I recommend you get to safety while we track her.

Rhonda:  Yeah right.  What's the worst she's going to do to me?

Brock:  Let's hope we don't find out.  [He walks away after Vasuvius who has already started approaching the witch.]

Rhonda [walking after him, and speaking in a whisper as she catches up]:  Why don't you just cast some sort of spell on her?

Vasuvuis:  I intend to, but it has to be the right spell.  If I get too close to her, she'll surely detect me, and if I use a spell she's resistant to, all hell may break loose.  I need to figure out just what sort of witch she is.

Rhonda:  How?

Vasuvius:  By watching.  [He stops short and ducks behind a light pole as the woman stops pushing her cart to pick up a glass bottle.  She turns it around in her hands and then tosses it into her cart.]  She is interested in the glass bottle.  That is very revealing.

Rhonda:  It is?

Brock:  It means she likely specializes in distortions.

Rhonda:  Meaning what?

Brock [looking back at her]:  I really must insist that you wait here, my Lady.  Vasuvius will soon be making his move and I don't want you to be in danger.

Rhonda:  He won't be in danger?

Brock:  Of course, but he can handle it.

Vasuvius:  Brock, wait here with the lady.  I know what I must do.

Brock [nodding]:  Yes, Master.  [Vasuvius starts walking towards the woman very slowly.]

Rhonda:  But...

Brock [turning back and glaring at her angrily]:  Don't disrupt and don't disobey.

Rhonda [eyes growing wide in fear and taking a step back]:  Geeze.  I didn't mean to upset you so.

Brock [softening]:  I apologize, my Lady.  It's just that Vasuvius requires full concentration and I desire to keep you safe.

Rhonda [pointing]:  Well whatever he requires I think he thinks he's got it.

[Brock looks ahead to see Vasuvius approaching and just starting to take out his wand.  However, before he starts to cast whatever he was going to cast, the bag lady suddenly jerks her head and looks straight at him.  Making a noise that's a cross between a hiss and a screech, she knocks her shopping cart over, bottles spilling everywhere, grabs a wooden rod from beneath the cart, and lunges at him]

Brock [shouting]:  Master!

[The witch looks over at him instead, distracted just long enough for Vasuvius to cast his spell, which consists of a blue lightning like bolt emitting from his wand and hitting the witch squarely in the forehead.  She stumbles backwards, but doesn't quite fall down.]

Rhonda [looking around wildly but seeing no one]:  Geeze, what if someone sees?

Brock:  That depends on who wins.  [He draws his sword from his back and rushes forward as Rhonda takes more steps backwards and looks to be about to bolt, but then rushes forward to the light pole and watches in shock as Vasuvius and Brock case the witch down an ally, disappearing from sight.  She waits several beats and then runs after them.  As she approaches the ally, she sees it shrouded in darkness.  She stands at the edge of the darkness, not sure what to do, hearing no noise from inside]

Rhonda [after waiting a few seconds, speaking timidly and quietly]:  Brock?

[The instance she speaks, the bag lady witch lunges out of the ally, hissing at her and grabbing her around the throat.  Rhonda screams as boils erupt all over her face.  Brock then emerges from the darkness with his sword in front of him.]

Brock:  Arrghh!  [He stabs the witch through the back.  Her eyes grow wide and she releases Rhonda, falling to the ground in a pile]

Vasuvius [exiting from the shadows as they fade around him]:  What did you do?!

Brock:  I'm sorry master, I had to stop her [he points to Rhonda]

Vasuvius:  Oh my.

Rhonda [looking at her boil covered arms and crying]:  What did she do to me.

Brock [putting away his sword and kneeling beside her]:  It will be okay.  It's only a spell.  Now that she's dead, Vasuvius should be able to easily dispel it [Looking up to Vasuvius]  Right, Vasuvius?

Vasuvius:  Yes, don't worry, my Lady.  It's all going to be okay.

Rhonda [tears still streaming down her boil ridden face as Vasuvius waves his wand about her]:  How can it be okay?  You really killed her.

Brock [Taking her hand as the boils fade from it]:  I had to.  She would have killed you if I didn't act quickly.

Rhonda [Still in a daze]:  Killed me?

Brock [dropping her hand as the remaining boils fade from her body]:  Perhaps now is not the best time to explain.  [Glancing up at Vasuvius]  What do we do now, Master?

Vasuvius [shaking his head]:  I'm not quite sure.  I have to admit he presence of a witch certainly changes things quite a lot.  I just wish I had been able to interrogate her.

Brock [resolutely]:  It could not be avoided.

Vasuvius [nodding]:  Yes I suppose it could not.  [He waves his wand around the woman's body and it slowly fades away until just a pile of rags is left.]

Rhonda [still sobbing a bit, and trying to wipe the tears from her face]:  I think I'd like to go back home now.

Vasuvius:  Yes, of course.

Brock [taking Rhonda's hand to help her up]:  I'm so sorry, my Lady.  I failed to protect you.

Rhonda [wiping the last of her tears away with her free hand and forcing a smile]:  No, I ought to thank you. I mean, if aliens are coming to my city, at least I have the two of you on my side.

Vasuvius [staring at the former witch pile]:  Indeed.  Perhaps it was not just some random mistake that landed us here after all.

Brock:  Master?

Vasuvius [looking straight at him]:  Perhaps we were summoned here by someone seeking our help against things such as this [gesturing to the witch pile].

Brock:  Then why weren't they waiting for us?  [He starts to walk, guiding Rhonda along.]

Vasuvius [walking as well]:  It's not an exact science, so to speak.  Perhaps they weren't sure exactly who they were summoning or where they would land.

Brock:  Well then we have to find them and help them.

Vasuvius:  Yes, just as soon as we get this fair Lady safely home.

Brock:  Of course.

Rhonda:  I'm helping.

Brock:  I don't think so, my Lady.  You saw what just happened.

Rhonda:  Yes, and I don't want it to happen to anyone else.  Ever.

Brock:  Very well then.  It's decided.  [Forcing a weak smile.]  Vasuvius, Brock, and Rhonda, to the rescue.

Vasuvius [nodding]:  For as long as it takes.

[They walk down the street back towards the bus stop as the sun shines brightly behind them illuminating them such that they nearly glow.  A dog runs oinking across the street behind them and out of sight.]

Vasuvius and Brock (Episode One, Part Three)

[The walk a few blocks down the street and Rhonda cautiously opens the door with her key, glancing at her two companions to make sure they aren't doing something particularly odd.  Then she leads them up two flights of stairs to her apartment.]

Rhonda [as she unlocks the door]:  Sarah, we have guests, you'd better put your clothes on.  [Opening the door and glancing around]  She must not be here, her key is gone [pointing to one of the hooks on the wall by the door and then placing her key chain on the other hook].  Well, make yourselves at home, I guess.  What to wizards from other lands like to eat?

Brock:  Pigs mostly [glancing at Vasuvius who glares at him a bit]

Rhonda:  Don't let Sarah hear you say that.  In addition to her obvious strange behavior, she's also a vegetarian.

Brock [sitting on the couch and giving a surprised look at its softness]:  Vegetarian?

Rhonda:  Yeah, she doesn't eat any meat.  Ever.

Brock:  How strange.

Rhonda:  Something we agree on at least.  I mean, not eating meat isn't always that strange, but Sarah makes it strange, and sometimes awkward.

Brock:  Why do you live here with her if you do not like her?

Rhonda:  I didn't say I didn't like her.  She's just different.  Like you two.

[Brock nods a little and then looks ahead of him.  His eyes grow wide as he notices the large flat screen television on the wall]

Brock:  What is the purpose of that giant black box?

Rhonda:  Wow you guys are either really good actors or you really aren't from this planet.  That's a television.

[Vasuvius approaches and looks at the edge of the television, poking it just a little with his wand]

Vasuvius:  The paintings I have seen of this device are quite different.

Rhonda:  You've seen paintings of televisions?  I'm not even sure I've seen paintings of televisions.

Vasuvius:  Yes, in some of the books I've seen about your planet.  The televisions were much more cubical.

Rhonda:  Those books are out of date then.  This is a flat screen.

Brock:  A screen?  Like netting?  A screen?

Rhonda [smiling a little]:  Not quite.  [She picks up the remote and turns the television on.  Brock nearly falls of the couch in shock.  Vasuvius takes a couple steps back and seems mildly surprised.]

Brock:  What kind of magic is this?  There are people and animals trapped inside!

Rhonda:  Electricity.

Brock:  I do not understand.

Vasuvius [walking over to the couch]:  It's like the horseless carriages, Brock.  Really if you want to think of it like magic, perhaps that would help.  I believe in this world they would call it science, but the two are really not so different.  [Sitting down]  Oh, comfy.

Rhonda [walking over to where she can look at Vasuvius]:  What do you mean they're not that different?  That crap you did to me outside sure wasn't science.

Vasuvius:  Not as you know it, but it still follows certain rules, and one must study it for many years to truly master and understand it.  The more you understand of magic, the better you will be at performing it.

Brock:  That's probably I'm so bad at it.  I understand very little about any of this.

Rhonda:  So you can't do any of the things he can do [pointing to Vasuvius].

Brock:  Oh, I can do few things.  Parlor tricks.  [He snaps his fingers and a tiny flame appears hovering above them.  Rhonda jumps back a step or two.]

Rhonda:  Now don't burn my apartment down.

Brock:  Oh I doubt I could if I tried.  [He shakes his hand and the flame vanishes].  Vasuvius on the other hand...

Rhonda [glancing at Vasuvius]:  That's certainly reassuring.

Vasuvius:  We mean you no harm, my Lady.  I suspect Brock only means to inform you that I am more than capable of protecting you from danger.

Rhonda:  What danger though?  I'm not even sure why you're here in my apartment, other than the fact that I couldn't imagine just letting you go on your way after what I saw and heard down on the street.  I mean, I'm still not even sure this is all really happening.  But what is it you imagine you'll protect me from.  A dragon or something?

Brock [eyes lighting up even more than when she turned on the TV] There are dragons in this city?

Rhonda [laughing nervously]  Not that I'm aware of.  But that's my point.  You seem to come from a land of dungeons and dragons and adventure.  Sure this is a big city, but there's no danger like what you're apparently used to.

Brock:  I've never seen a dragon before in my life.  They are the stuff of legends and fables much like, well, I suppose, this place.

Rhonda [smiling more sincerely]:  Well I'm glad you're impressed, I suppose, but still, what are you going to do for me besides show me some tricks.

Brock [pointing to the television]:  Well if you don't need any assistance, what about them.

Rhonda:  Oh I can free them quite easily [she turns off the television]

Brock [standing up]:  Free them?!  Where did they go?  To some other plane?

Rhonda:  No.  They were never there to begin with.

Brock:  I don't understand any of this.

Rhonda:  Imagine how I feel.

Brock:  You live here.  Surely it makes sense to you.

Vasuvius:  I think she was referring to her encounter of us.

Brock:  Oh.

Vasuvius:  But as for that device [pointing to TV] if I recall correctly, it's some sort of image transmitter or amplified, perhaps like a telescope, except that it also splits the image so that many people in many different places can view it at once.  It sounded rather fascinating and I must admit it is even more impressive to see one in person.  But basically, if I understand correctly, there are no people in the device itself, but rather the image of them is taken down somehow, much as one would paint a painting or write down a spell, and transferred through some sort of tubes to the screen, as Rhonda called it.

Rhonda:  I couldn't have described it better.  At least not in a way you would understand.

Brock:  I suppose it makes a little sense.  At least as much as magic does.

Vasuvius:  I must admit, I had not given sufficient thought to all there is to learn of this world.  I do find it all quite fascinating.  Though I'm still not sure that this gathering of knowledge will serve in accomplishing much of anything unless we can find a way home.

Rhonda:  You mean you can't be back to where you came from?

Vasuvius:  Indeed.  We have suffered a bit of a mishap from a back-firing spell.

Brock:  That's an understatement.

Vasuvius [looking at Rhonda]:  Yes, but if anyone can help us, I think it might be you.

Rhonda:  Me?

Vasuvius:  Yes.  You've seen a taste of what we can do, and yet you are still here, welcoming us into your home even, something that is unheard of for a woman who lives alone to do where we are from.

Brock:  That's because most women who live alone where we are from do so because they are grotesquely ugly.  That's certainly not the case here.

Rhonda:  I'll bet you say that to all the girls.

Vasuvius:  Anyway, if you are able to trust us in your home, I feel you may also be willing to help us get back to ours.

Rhonda:  I'm listening, but suggest I do something inappropriate and you're back out on the street.

Vasuvius [looking mildly confused]:  I do not think it is inappropriate.  I was only wondering if you know where I could find a library.  Preferably one with very, very old books.

Rhonda:  A library?  Is that really all you need?  Sure, I think there's a small one about a mile from here and a big one in the heart of downtown, maybe seven miles away?

Vasuvius:  Wonderful.  If you could give me more precise directions, I'm sure I can manage to find my way.

Rhonda:  Are you sure about that, other worldly adventurer?

Vasuvius:  Oh, quite sure. [He snaps his fingers and vanishes]

Rhonda:  Holy!  [She spins a circle and then looks back at Brock]  I think your friend may have gone home without you!

Brock [smiling a little]  Oh I doubt that.  [There is a knock at the door]  I'll bet that's him now.

[Rhonda opens the door to find Vasuvius waving and smiling at her]

Vasuvius:  If I have precise coordinates within a certain distance, I am able to teleport quite readily.  I believe your seven miles is just on the edge of the distance I can travel.

Rhonda [glancing up and down the hall]  But what if someone had seen you?

Vasuvius:  I can see where I'm going before I arrive.  If anyone had been there, I would have simply returned here.  [He walks back over to the couch and sits down again]

Rhonda:  But then would you even have vanished at all?  Wouldn't you have just snapped your fingers and stayed there or something?

Vasuvius:  Teleportation isn't instantaneous.  Much faster than traveling by foot, naturally, but it still takes time for the soul and body to travel to the intended location.

Rhonda:  It does?

Vasuvius:  Yes, of course.  Though it does fascinate me that you would think otherwise.  You seemed to have no opinions on our other "magic tricks" as I believe you had wanted to call them.

Rhonda:  Yeah, well, teleportation is one I actually know.  At least from movies and such.  Stuff that was just made up.  But I've always seen it portrayed as basically instantaneous.

Vasuvius:  Fascinating.  Another oddity of your world that might be worth investigating.  But first to the library, if you could just show me on a map where we are and where I am going.

Rhonda:  Yeah, sure, just let me pull it up on my computer.

Brock:  Computer?  Why would one who computes have a map?  To measure distances?

Rhonda [smiling]:  Oh are you in for a surprise on this one, magic boy.

Vasuvius and Brock: Episode One (Part Two)

[Vasuvius and Brock follow Rhonda onto the bus.  She pays her fare and starts to walk towards a seat while Brock and Vasuvius stand there.]

Brock:  What are we supposed to do?

Vasuvius [looking down at the machine that took Rhonda's money]:  I think she put those bills in there.

Brock [takes out one of the dollars, stares at it, stares at the machine, then holds the bill out towards the machine]:  Nothing happens.

Rhonda [coming back over]:  Here, you have to put it in the slot like this [guides the bill into the machine's slot]

Brock [jumping back a little]: Woah.  It just disappeared like... [He puts his next bill in the slot and a ticket comes out another slot.  He looks at Rhonda]

Rhonda [smirking a little as she takes the ticket and hands it to him]  Like magic, huh?

Brock [turning back to Vasuvius in surprise]:  You made it sound like they don't have magic here.

Vasuvius:  They don't, not like you know it.  [He takes out his dollar bills, stares at the first one one last time and nods]  I think I can part with this now.  [He slides in his bills and takes a ticket]

Rhonda [as she leads them to the back of the bus]:  So are you two magicians or something?

Brock [glancing back at Vasuvius to see he is staring at a small stack of papers in his hands and not paying any attention]:  You mean like people who do magic?

Rhonda:  Yeah, I guess that's what magicians are.  I'd call it more tricks than magic though.

Brock:  Vasuvius practices magic, but I'm not very good.  [Then in more hushed tones]  He told me we wouldn't be able to find many books of magic here.

Rhonda [sitting in the back and motioning for Brock to sit beside her.  He does and Vasuvius sits beside Brock, though he still isn't paying attention]:  You mean like books on different tricks?  I don't know, I assume those exist, but if your Uncle is already a magician, he probably doesn't need books or knows where to find the ones he does need.  Did he just mean there aren't other magicians here in the city?  Because I know that's not true.

Brock:  Really, you know others like him?

Rhonda:  Well not personally, but I'm sure they exist, at the very lease street performers and such.  I don't understand why you two were acting all strange before, though.  If you're just magicians looking for work, you should really already know what you're doing.  And why did I have to pay you anyway?  And where is your luggage?

Brock:  You gave us that, money, I guess, because we didn't have any and apparently we need it to ride on this carriage.  We don't have luggage because it didn't come with it when we were transported here.

Rhonda:  And see, why do you talk like that, if you don't mind me asking?  You speak English just fine and look like you're from here, but why call the bus a carriage or say things like you were transported here.  You sound foreign.

Brock:  Well, we aren't from here.

Rhonda:  Where are you from then?  Where are you from that you are so unfamiliar with a big city or with any city, apparently.

Brock:  That's the part I don't think I can tell you.  [Glances at Vasuvius, who has a bigger pile of papers now and is still very focused and not paying attention to Brock at all.]

Rhonda:  Of course you can.  Are you a refugee or something?

Brock:  I don't think so.

Rhonda:  A criminal?  Someone who means to do people harm?

Brock:  Certainly not!

Rhonda:  Then it doesn't matter where you're from.

Brock:  I think in this case it might.

Rhonda:  Not to me.

Brock:  Then why do you want to know so badly?

Rhonda [smiling]:  Fair enough.  [pauses]  You're no fool, not stupid, but why don't you seem to understand things?  It's a mystery to me.

Brock:  Perhaps it's better if it stays that way.

Rhonda:  Well perhaps this bus ride was all for nothing then.  I wasted four dollars trying to learn what was so odd about you and now I'll never know.  Maybe magicians and their assistants are just strange.

Brock:  Yes perhaps.

Rhonda:  So where will you stay tonight?  And what will you do without all your luggage?

Brock:  I'm not sure.  I'm sure Vasuvius will figure out something.  [Glancing around]  This is a very strange carriage.  And the others in it are a bit odd.

Rhonda:  Some of them just ride it all day.  They have not much better to do.

Brock [as the bus makes its third stop since they've started talking]:  It stops so often, too.  Don't people have greater distances to go?

Rhonda:  Some do.

Brock:  Why don't the others just walk.

Rhonda [laughing a little]:  People are lazy.  I'm lazy.  I guess I could have walked to my apartment.  It's only three miles.  But that seems like such a long way.

Brock:  Your apartment?

Rhonda:  Yes, where I live?

Brock:  Oh, with your husband or with your father, if you don't mind me asking?

Rhonda [laughing]:  Neither.  I'm not one of those dependents who still lives at home, and you don't see a ring on this finger do you?  [holds up ring finger]

Brock:  No?

Rhonda:  See, that's another example.  That is a strange thing to ask.  It's probably a bit rude of me to point that out so bluntly, but I suspect you won't care.

Brock:  I value honesty.

Rhonda:  And yet you won't be honest with me.

Brock:  I have good reasons for that.  [pauses]  So who is there to protect you if you don't have a husband and your father doesn't live with you?

Rhonda:  Geeze, I can't tell if you're hitting on me or being rude or you're really just that clueless!  I do fine on my own without a man, thank you.  I do have a roommate though.  Sarah.  She's a bit odd.  Not odd like you.  Odd like walking around the apartment without any clothes on.

Brock:  She walks about in the nude?

Rhonda:  See, I knew that would get your attention.  All men think the same way, no matter how strange they are or what far off land they might be from.

Brock [blushing]:  I did not intend to insult you or your sister.

Rhonda:  You didn't insult me.  I expect that kind of reaction.  And she's not my sister.  She's just my roommate.  She lives with me but we're not related.

Brock:  This is a strange world.

Rhonda:  Do women not live apart from their families where you are from?

Brock:  Not often.

Rhonda:  Then I'd say you're world's the strange one, whatever world that may be.  [The bus pulls to a stop]  Well the next one after this is my stop.  It was a pleasure meeting you Brock.  I'm sure we'll never cross paths again, but if we do, I'd like my two dollars back.  [She smiles and stands.]

Vasuvius [jumping up and looking at her]:  Wait!

Rhonda [looking back at him]:  I don't really have more time.  I did what I could to try to help you guys, which isn't much considering how little you can tell me about what you're after.

Vasuvius:  What we need is a place to stay, and it sounded like you are lacking in protection.

Rhonda:  You, too?  I was telling Brock...

Vasuvius:  Perhaps an arrangement can be made.  When can stay with you in your apartment in return for protection.

Rhonda:  I don't need...

Vasuvius [holding out the papers that were in his hands]:  We can pay.

Rhonda [looking at the ream of bills]:  Holy!  [The bus pulls to a stop and they both nearly fall over]  But these are all singles.

Vasuvius:  They are the bills you showed me.  I admit I am not keenly aware of their value, but I trust this is enough.

Rhonda [looking through them]:  For one night maybe, but I don't know you two, and [pauses]  wait, these all have the same serial number.

Brock [standing to look now too]:  The same what.

Rhonda:  The same serial number.  Why would you try [The bus starts moving again.]  Damn.  That was my stop.  I guess I'll have to walk back a few blocks after all.  I have to ask you, though, where did you get all that fake money?  Did someone give it to you or are you really trying to scam me?

Vasuvius:  This isn't fake.  It's as real as what you showed me

Rhonda:  No, it isn't.  See these numbers?  They're all the same.  Each bill should have a different one.

Vasuvius:  Bah.  If I had examined both bills instead of just the one, I would have noticed that.

Rhonda:  So you're counterfeiters now?

Brock:  He's a magician, like you said.

Vasuvius [looking straight at Rhonda]:  You know magicians?

Rhonda:  Not personally.  Who are you guys?

Brock [looking at Vasuvius]:  We really should just tell her.  I think she'll understand.  She understands magicians.

Vasuvius [holding out the money]:  But she doesn't understand this.

[The bus stops again]

Rhonda:  Well if you're going to explain anything, you'd better do it fast because I'm not missing this stop.  [She starts to walk away.  Brock follows after her and Vasuvius follows behind more slowly.  Rhonda and Brock get out of the bus and Vasuvius smiles at the bus driver as he feeds two of his conjured bills into the machine and takes the ticket it spits out before nodding and exiting the bus.]

Brock:  We're not bad people.  We're just not from here.

Vasuvius [holding the ticket up to Rhonda]:  See, my bills are perfectly fine.  I got another ticket from them.

Rhonda:  You fed those into the machine?  Those aren't real.  They're counterfeit!

Vasuvius:  They are real.

Rhonda:  You're crazy!  [Starts to walk away.]

Brock:  Wait!  [She turns back looked frustrated, but still with a hint of curiosity]  [To Vasuvius:]  We have to show her something more dramatic.

Vasuvius [glancing about]:  With all these people around?

Brock [to Rhonda]:  Can we go somewhere more private?

Rhonda:  I don't think so.  I'm not going somewhere private with two crazy men I don't know so they can supposedly prove they aren't crazy.

Vasuvius:  Well, that's that then.  If you won't let us stay with you at your abode...

Brock:  No wait!  What about a Circle of Time?

Vasuvius:  Oh you know, Brock, that might just be what we need here.  Good thought.

Rhonda:  You two have about two seconds to convince me you aren't dangerous or I'm leaving.

Vasuvius:  That's fine.  That's all we need, just come back over here for one minute.

Rhonda [glances around at the other people]:  well, okay [clutching her purse tightly, she walks over to them]  I suppose if you were going to mug me in public, you would have done that by now, and I really don't have much on me anyway, so...  [Vasuvius takes out his wand and starts to spin it in a circle above their heads while he mumbles something]  What the?  Is that part of your act or something?

[Vasuvius finishes speaking and flicks his wand up and instantly the world around them freezes.]

Rhonda [looking around in shock]:  What the crap did you do to me?  [She turns to leave] I'm getting out of -

Brock:  No!  Don't step out of - [she steps out of the circle] the circle.

[Rhonda is frozen in place as she tries to leave.  Brock, with a sigh, pulls her back in.]

Rhonda:  -here.  What just happened?

Brock:  You can't leave a circle of time.  Time only passes inside of it.  If you try to leave, you get frozen in place.

Rhonda [gasping a little]:  This is the kind of magic you guys do?  This is incredible!  Is this for real?  [She sticks her hand outside the circle and freezes again]

Brock [smiling mischeviously, moves to the other side of her and pulls her hand back in]:  It's for real.

Rhonda jumps in fright when she sees he's moved, instantly in her mind.

Rhonda:  How the heck...

Vasuvius [sounding a bit annoyed]:  He told you, it's a circle of time.  Time freezes if you exit it.  [Turning to Brock]  I told you she wouldn't understand.

Brock:  No, Master, she will.  Just give her time.

Vasuvius [throwing his arms up and gesturing around them]:  I have!  I can only do so much!  You know as well as I that casting another spell breaks the circle [looking over at Rhonda] And she made it clear she doesn't trust us enough to go somewhere private where I can show her what I'm really capable of.

Rhonda:  Really capable of?  [Turning back to Brock]  I thought the two of you were just simple magicians, or that he was at least [pointing back as Vasuvius].  I've never been part of a magic trick before, just this just seems so... How can you do this?

Brock:  It's magic, just like you say, but it's not a trick.  I think your world's magic must be very different from our own.

Rhonda:  You keep saying world.  Where are you from?

Brock:  [takes a deep breath]  The realm of Brangardia.

Rhonda:  Where on earth is that?

Brock:  No where.

Rhonda:  What?

Vasuvius:  The boy is just trying to be clever.  [He sighs and looks at Rhonda.]  I must apologize for being so rude and impatient, my lady.  It is frustrating to be trapped in this world and feel so powerless, but I think Brock is right.  I think you are capable of understanding and perhaps even accepting our plight.  Brangardia exists on the planet of Roz in what we call the galaxy of Solaria.  You probably have a different name for it here, if you have a name for it at all.  I do not believe it is the same galaxy as your own.

Rhonda:  So you're trying to say you really are aliens?  Like from another planet aliens?  I'd say you were crazy, but well [Gestures around them.]  You look like people, though, and you speak English.

Vasuvius:  That can be remedied.

Rhonda [glancing about nervously]  The looking like people part or the speaking English part.

[Vasuvius smiles and takes out his wand again.  Rhonda looks to Brock.]

Rhonda [as Vasuvuis casts another spell]:  I don't know how I feel about all of this.  Aliens?  You aren't going to want to probe me or something are you?  I just can't believe... I mean this can't be happening; it can't be real.  You've probably drugged me and I'm actually laying in a ditch somewhere, I mean [Vasuvius finishes his spell; the world around them unfreezes; and Rhonda continues speaking in Vasuvius and Brock's native tongue] this can't possibly be real.  Holy crap what just came out of my mouth?  What did you do!?  This isn't English or French, but I can understand it.  [People look at her funny as they pass by.  She smiles nervously and waves]  Hello there.  [Back to Vasuvius]  What did you do?

Vasuvius [also in his native tongue]:  This is our native language.  I cast a spell earlier so we could speak yours.  I cast it again so we could all speak ours.

Brock:  I understand your shock.  I didn't know he could do this either.  I was telling him he should have used it with the ogre we met.

Rhonda:  Ogre!?

Vasuvius:  Brock, I think the ogre might be a bit too much for her to take in right now.

Rhonda:  Oh no, I think a healthy belief in ogres would be much easier to cultivate right now that whatever is actually happening to me right now.

Brock:  It's okay, trust me.  It's just a harmless spell.  If Vasuvius wanted to kill you, you'd be dead, well, at least if I let him kill you.

Rhonda:  Oh that's reassuring.

Brock:  All I meant was that we don't mean to harm you.  Vasuvius is a good wizard, and I'm sworn to protect not only him but fair damsels such as yourself.

Rhonda:  Geeze your planet is sexist.

Brock:  I'm not quite sure I know what that means, but we look out for women in need if that's what you mean.

Rhonda:  Well I'm not in need, and I'm starting to wonder if my curiosity has finally gotten the best of me.  Whatever this is you did, it's just too weird.  Can we please go back to speaking English.

Vasuvius:  As you wish, but we'll have to be more discrete then if you wish to continue in public.

Rhonda:  Fine, just switch us back.

[Vasuvius waves his wand about discretely and nods.]

Rhonda [in English]:  Are we back now?  Okay good.  I just I really need to go, but how can you just walk away if you've met aliens, and seemingly friendly aliens at that, but if this is a trick.  Arg.  [staring at Brock]  Why did you have to come talk to me anyway?

Brock [pointing at Vasuvius]  It was his idea.

Vasuvius:  Not exactly.  It was Brock here who thought...

Brock:  Okay then!  Well it was nice meeting you Lady Rhonda, I guess we'll be going now then after all.

Rhonda:  No, wait.  [Sighs]  This is such a giant mess.  Just a giant confusing mess.  But if I'm actually dead in a ditch somewhere or up in your flying saucer, I guess what I do here isn't going to change that.  Come on, let me show you my apartment.

Brock [smiling]:  You mean you're going to accept Vasuvius's offer from before?

Rhonda:  Sure, let's go with that.  As long as he can conjure up some money that doesn't have those same serial numbers on it.

Vasuvius [holding out some fresh bills, only about 5 so far]:  Will this do.

Rhonda [laughing nervously]:  About 100 times that many should do nicely [gestures for them to follow her]  Come on, my apartment's this way.  Letting you in is either going to be the best or stupidest thing I do, possibly in my life, but I suppose you only live once and my curiosity really does get the best of me.

Vasuvius and Brock: Episode One (Part One)

Once upon a time there lived a powerful wizard named Vasuvius who roamed the land acquiring knowledge, learning new spells, and occasionally helping those in need, accompanied by his brave young companion and body guard, Brock.  Brock was not quite as gifted in the arts of magic as wise Vasuvius, but he was skilled in combat and carried a shiny and rather pointy sword with him.

One day, Vasuvius and Brock had stopped for their midday meal when Vasuvius decided to practice a new summoning spell he had been reading about and attempted to summon a pig for Brock to butcher and cook for them.  However, something with this simple spell went terribly wrong, and as the puff of smoke cleared, Vasuvius and Brock found that not only did they have no pig standing before them ready to be eaten, but they had been transported to a strange world, the likes of which they had never seen before.

As the smoke clears...

Speaking in their native tongue:

Brock [waving his hand in front of him to dispatch the last of the smoke]: *Cough cough*  What happened, master?  Where is the pig?  [Pauses to look around]  And where are we?

Vasuvius [glancing about at the grass and trees and then at the pavement, metal benches, bikers, runners, and tall buildings in the distance]  I'm not sure but this is certainly not what I intended.  [He looks around some more and then cautious approaches the path ahead of them.  Waving to a passing jogger, he calls out]  Excuse me, my lady.

Jogger [in English]:  Excuse me?

Vasuvius [in his native tongue]:  Could you tell me what place this might be?

Jogger [in English]:  Sorry, I only speak English.  [Jogs away.]

Vasuvius [with a sigh, walking back to Brock who has decided to hid behind a bush]:  Just as I feared.  Don't worry, I can fix this.  [Ducks behind the bush with Brock and takes out his wand.]

Brock:  Are you sure you want to be doing that right now.

[Vasuvius ignores him, mutters something under his breath, and waves the wand around himself and Brock.]

Brock:  [in his native tongue]  Okay if you're really sure [Vasuvius finishes his waving and Brock continues in English] you know what you're doing.  Woah!  What was that?  What is this?  What did you do?

Vasuvius [in English]:  I cast a spell on us so we can now speak and understand the language of this land.  I have a feeling we might be here a while, so we might as well practice getting rid of our accents now.

Brock:  You can do that?

Vasuvius:  Get rid of an accent?  Well, it helps to practice speaking in the foreign tongue of course...

Brock:  No, I mean, cast a spell that lets you speak another language.

Vasuvius:  And understand as well.

Brock:  And you learned this recently?

Vasuvius:  No, of course not.  A simple spell like this, I probably learned in my first of second year of college.

Brock:  Then why didn't you use it three weeks ago when we encountered that Ogre neither of us could understand?!

Vasuvius [smiling slyly]:  Well now what would the fun have been in that.

Brock [throwing his hands up in the air]:  For one thing, he may not have tried to eat me!

Vasuvius:  Oh, I'm quite sure that Ogre would have tried to eat you even if we did speak his language.  Besides, you hadn't had a chance to truly use your sword in so long, I'm quite sure you enjoyed it.  Speaking of which, your sword is well concealed, yes?

Brock [after a sigh]:  Of course, Master.  Just like always.

Vasuvius:  Good.  If I'm not mistaken, the people of this land are not so keen on having others run about with swords strapped to their backs.

Brock:  And what land might this be anyway?

Vasuvius:  If I am not mistaken, we find ourselves on the land of earth.

Brock [scoops up some dirt in his hand and lets it run through his fingers]:  Yes, obviously, but what is it called?

Vasuvius:  Earth.  We have landed here on the planet called Earth.

Brock:  Planet?  You mean plane, right?

Vasuvius [shaking his head]:  No, my young and loyal friend, I'm afraid I have transported us to an entirely different planet, somehow.  A feat which, in fact, wizards much greater than I still cannot accomplish.  Planes are easy.  Planets, not so much.  Which unfortunately means getting back home will be quite the challenge as well.

Brock:  I like how you emphasized the word loyal there.

Vasuvius [continuing to shake his head]:  This is no time for jokes, Brock.  Even if I could access the proper tomes, which I am quite certain this planet does not possess, it would take me years to adequately study them to the point where I could safely transport us back home.

Brock:  So we're just stuck here then.

Vasuvius:  Unless you have some sort of plan.

Brock:  Why not just cast the spell you were trying to cast before?  It brought us here.  Maybe it will bring us back home.

Vasuvius:  Or it could transport us to yet another planet, even less hospitable than this one.

Brock:  How many planets can there possibly be?

Vasuvius:  Millions.  Perhaps even billions.  But I suppose trying to cast the spell again is the best option we have.  If it does transport us to the wrong planet, perhaps I could combine it with some sort of time lapse spell to cast it at least another million times before we die of old age.  [He shrugs.]  Oh well here goes nothing!

Vasuvius proceeds to wave his hands about and whisper magical words under his breath, slowly speaking more and more loudly until he finally lets out a shout when a cloud of smoke envelops them and when it clears...

There are Vasuvius and Brock, still standing behind the bush with a few confused joggers and bikers glancing back at them and a pot-belly pig at their feet, oinking and sniffing about as Brock's sandals.

Vasuvius:  Well, at least we know we won't have to starve to death, and my magic does still work on this planet!

Brock:  Better than on our own, apparently.

[A few minutes later:  Brock and Vasuvius are walking down the hiker/biker trail, after Vasuvius has cast a spell to disguise his robes as a business suit and the pot-belly pig that is following them as a puppy.]

Brock:  How come I don't get weird looking clothes?

Vasuvius:  Because yours are weird looking enough already.  You fit into this world just fine.

Brock:  No one on this trail is wearing clothes like the ones you've conjured up.

Vasuvius:  Oh we're bound to run into one of them eventually.  See!  [He points across the park to a man sitting on a park bench and reading a newspaper, wearing a suit much like his own.]

Brock:  Okay fine, but why does the pig have to look like a dog?  I though we were going to just eat him.

Vasuvius:  Brock, if we butcher a pig in the middle of this park, people will think we are savages.

Brock:  I'm savagely hungry.  We're just going to let this pig dog follow us around everywhere?

Vasuvius:  I don't see why not.  He's not hurting anything, and there's no need to eat him when we can just walk into any pub in this fine city and order up some delicious new food.  If I remember my reading about Earth, and specifically about the country we seem to be in, people do love their food here, even more than the people of our world.

Brock:  Well that's certainly good because I could eat an entire cow.

Vasuvius:  I am certainly glad, then, that we didn't land in the middle-western part of this country.

[Vasuvius and Brock continue to walk a ways longer, Vasuvius staring at every passerby and smiling and nodding when they look uncomfortable while Brock himself just looks sullen but does his best to keep an alert eye for danger as he always does.  The pig discussed as a dog continues to trot merrily behind them, making oinking noises that Vasuvius's spell failed to cover up.]

Brock:  That oinking is really making me hungry.

Vasuvius:  Patience, my friend, I believe we are nearing the end of this  maze.  Ah yes, here is the exit.  [They walk out of the park and Brock is about to step into the street when Vasuvius grabs his shoulder as a car zooms by.]

Brock:  By the gods!  What was that contraption?

Vasuvius:  I believe that is what they call a car.

Brock:  I think there was a person in it.  It's like a carriage but without a horse.

Vasuvius:  Yes, it runs all on its own.

Brock:  You made it sound like these people don't know magic, but I've never seen you cast a spell to do something like that.

Vasuvius:  It's not a spell.  I think it's called combustion or something like that.  They burn something inside the device, I think in some sort of engine, and it makes it run.

Brock:  Sounds like magic to me.

Vasuvius:  Not to me.  Magic makes sense to me.  I'm sorry to say this world does not.  But at least they still have establishments were one can buy a meal and a bed.  Let's go find one.

[They walk down the block a ways and discover crosswalks by watching other pedestrians.  Brock glances back to notice the pig-dog sniffing a fire hydrant.]

Brock:  Is our backup plan meal going to be okay on his own?

Vasuvius:  Oh I'm sure he'll be fine.  Though he still maintains his essential pig nature, he is basically a dog, so worse case, some happy child finds him and takes him home as a pet.

Brock:  And there goes dinner.

Vasuvius:  No, here comes dinner.  [He points up ahead to a coffee and sandwich shop.]

Brock:  Excellent.

[They walk in and the cashier glances at Brock by smiles pleasantly at Vasuvius.]

Cashier:  Welcome!  Today's sandwich special is turkey on rye.  What can I get for you?

Brock:  Do you serve mutton here?

Cashier [frowning]:  No, I'm afraid not.

Vasuvius [smiling]:  Please excuse my nephew, he's only joking.  I will try the turkey on rye you recommended and my friend will take the roast beef on wheat bread.

Cashier [smiling again]:  Okay, I've got a turkey on rye and a roast beef on wheat.  Anything to drink.

Vasuvius:  No thank you.  We have plenty of clean water.

Cashier [looking a little uncomforable]:  Okay then, you total comes to 11.75.

Vasuvius [patting the pockets of his jacket]:  Um, do you take credit.

Cashier:  Of course we do.

Vasuvius [turning away to face Brock]:  Brock, my boy, could I borrow your credit card?

Brock:  My what?

Vasuvius [hushed, under his breath]:  Just hand me one of those slips of parchment you take notes on sometimes.

Brock, blushing slightly because those notes are more like a diary, takes out his notebook and tears off a piece of blank paper.  Meanwhile, the cashier is glancing over at the food case, tapping her foot, and Vasuvius discreetly points his wand behind him at her and mutters something Brock can't quite hear.  Immediately the cashier snaps to attention, staring straight ahead.  Vasuvius takes the paper from Brock, puts a finger to his lips to motion for the lad to remain quiet, and turns to the cashier.

Vasuvius [rather proudly]:  Here is my credit card, madam.

Cashier [smiling more brightly than she has yet]:  Yes thank you.  [She takes the paper, doesn't even look at it and then hands it back to Vasuvius.]  I'll have your food right out to you.

Vasuvius:  Thank you.  Come now, Brock.

They walk away and sit down at a table.

Brock:  Suggestion spell?

Vasuvius [nods]:  Yes.  It should wear off within a minute.

Brock:  Let's just hope no one comes in and asks her to do something embarrassing.

Vasuvius:  Why do you think I shushed you?

Brock:  Hey now, I am a perfect gentleman.

Vasuvius:  Let's just hope you stay that way when you see how some of the women here dress.

Brock:  I already saw them wearing those strange garments in that park.  Looked like undergarments to me.

Vasuvius:  Essentially.

Brock:  You see, and I remained perfectly calm.

Vasuvius:  I suppose I might be proud of you yet.

Brock [leaning back and smiling]:  You can't fool me "uncle".  You're already proud.

Brock and Vasuvius happily enjoy their meal and then leave the shop as the cashier smiles and tells them to have a nice day.  They exit onto the side walk and start walking again.

Brock:  That was actually quite delicious, master.

Vasuvius:  Yes, I suppose being trapped here might not be entirely bad.

Brock:  Well, it's still a long way from home.

Vasuvius:  Yes, and we probably should figure out where we are staying for the night.  I do not think this is the sort of place that would just let one sleep out in the open.

Brock:  What, are there dangerous creatures that come out at night or something?

Vasuvius:  Calm yourself, boy.  Nothing of the sort you are thinking.  Just ordinary men, much less fearsome than you, but probably not deserving to die at the point of your sword.  It would likely be best if we find an inn or other similar establishment at which to spend the night.

Brock:  And what, use your suggestion spell again to convince the proprietor that we've paid?

Vasuvius:  I agree that would not be the most noble way to proceed, but until I can actually view the money they use here, I have no way to duplicate it, and even then its no sure thing.

Brock:  Well if all you need is a look at the money I'm sure someone has some coins they could spare, someone who would respect and listen to two fine and fearsome fellows such as ourselves.  Look right over there [pointing towards a figure standing at a bus stop and facing away from them] there's a young lad who would probably do just as you say without any suggestion spell being necessary.

Vasuvius [smiling and chuckling a bit]:  I don't think that's a lad, Brock.

Brock:  What do you mean?

Vasuvius:  I think that's a lady.

Brock:  You must be joking.  With that short hair?  She must have greatly displeased her father or husband to have to cut her hair that short.  [The figure turns and looks their way, then back towards the street.]  Oh.  I guess, well, I mean...

Vasuvius:  It's okay, Brock.  If you're wondering, I don't think the short hair means anything here.  I think it's just a style.

Brock:  A style?  But what young lady would ever want to cut her hair short like that?

Vasuvius:  Well, perhaps you should ask her.  [Walking towards the bus stop and waving his arm]  Excuse me, miss.

[Brock looks nervously about and blushes a bit, but reluctantly follows.]

Woman:  Yes?

Vasuvius:  I was wondering if you could help my nephew and I.  [Brock waves nervously.]  We're new here, well, just visiting really, and we're looking for a place to stay.

Woman:  A place to stay?

Brock:  Yes, like an inn.

Woman:  I think there's a Comfort Inn down the street... [She glances around at them]  If you don't mind me asking, if you're visiting and haven't found a hotel to stay in yet, where is your luggage?

Vasuvius:  Oh, uh...

Brock:  That's a good question, Uncle Vasuvius, where is our luggage?

Vasuvius [glaring at Brock]:  This is no time to get snippy.

Woman [pointing at Vasuvius]:  Wait, your name is Vasuvius?  Isn't there a mountain named Vasuvius?

Vasuvius:  Maybe?  I don't quite remember that part.

Woman:  Remember it from where?

Vasuvius:  Nevermind, thank you for your time, miss.

Vasuvius turns and walks away, Brock opens his mouth as if to say something but then turns and walks away as well.

Woman:  Wait!  [They turn back.]  [She speaks more quietly]  Listen, if the two of you are homeless and just not very good at it yet, there's a shelter about a mile north of here.  If you don't want to walk, I can even give you money for bus fair.

Brock:  That's quite nice of you but...

Vasuvius:  We accept.

[Brock glares at Vasuvius, but then Vasuvius widens his eyes and nods at Brock to remind him of their whole purpose in talking to this woman to begin with.]

Brock:  Oh right, money for bus fare.  That would be very kind of you, my lady.

Woman [laughing a bit]:  My lady.  Did you get fired from a Ren Faire or something.  [Brock struggles for words and she just shakes her head.]  Nevermind.  Here's your bus fare.  [She opens up her purse and hands them each two one-dollar bills.]

Vasuvius [staring at the money]:  Yes, this is a good start.

Woman:  Now wait a minute, maybe you aren't so bad at being bums, except for that little slip up.

Brock:  Pardon me, but I don't think calling my friend and I bums is very polite.  [Turning to Vasuvius]  Is it?

Vasuvius [looking up from the dollar bills]:  Oh no, not at all.

Woman:  You two are the strangest people I've met today.  Sadly, still not the strangest ever.  [Looking just at Brock]  What's your name anyway?  Everest?

Brock [wrinkling his brow in confusing]:  No, it's Brock.

Woman [laughing]:  Of course it is.  You do look the tough guy type.

[Silence for a bit as Vasuvius wanders a few steps away and continues to study the money intently.  The woman glances at him and then back at Brock, then down at her watch and then back at Brock.]

Woman:  Okay, my bus still has a couple more minutes before it gets here.  What's your story, really?  I don't care about the money.  It was just a few dollars.

Brock:  I don't understand what you mean.

Woman:  You and your friend.  Are you [and then in hushed tones] are you high on something?

Brock:  I still don't [turning towards Vasuvius]  Vasuvius?

Vasuvius:  A moment, boy, I need to concentrate.

Brock [sighing, not unfamiliar with Vasuvius's moods when he's trying to concentrate]:  Listen, based on what I've seen so far of this world, you would not believe me if I told you the truth.

Woman:  This world?  Do you think you're an alien or something?

Brock:  No?  I think no is accurate.

Woman:  Okay, let's start over.  [She holds out her hand for Brock to shake.]  Hello, my name is Rhonda.  What brings you to the city?

Brock [pausing uncomfortably for a moment, but then, after taking a deep breath, taking her hand, kissing the back of it, and bowing slightly]:  It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Rhonda.  I am here with my mentor, Vasuvius who has only begun to tell me what he knows of your land and so I must apologize for my apparent constant confusion.

Rhonda [staring up at him in shock, but not yet pulling her hand away.  He lets go of it for her.]:  You really aren't from around here, are you?

Vasuvius [walking back over]:  Okay, Brock, I think I got what I need.  Let's not take any more of this young lady's time.

Rhonda:  No, I'm intrigued now.  I think I had the two of you figured all wrong, twice in fact.  [She glances over her shoulder as her bus approaches.  Vasuvius is motioning to Brock that they should go, but Brock shoos him away, as intrigued with Rhonda as she seems to be with him.]  Hop on this bus with me.  I want to hear more about this mysterious "world" where men bow and kiss the hands of "ladies" these days.

Vasuvius:  I'm not sure about that.  We really ought to be going.  A comfortable inn just down the street you said?

Brock:  Come on, Vasuvius, you've faced much worse than this.  [Then in a whisper, trying to keep Rhonda from hearing]  Besides, I'd rather like to ride in one of these self-driving carriage things.

Goodbye

I know you said good-bye, but I'm not ready yet to go,
Just give me one more chance to change your mind.
You say I don't know love, but I can say that isn't so.
You've shown me love, now don't leave me behind.
It isn't fair, I just need more time,
I know I can find the perfect rhyme.
Be my guide, be my hope,
when you're gone I'll just mope.
I don't want to be left alone.

I looked up at him with hopeful expectancy.
He just sneered.
"I know you fancy yourself a poet," he said.  "But nothing you've said moved me."
I felt a lump growing in my throat.  "Please," I begged, "just give me another chance."
He shook his head.  "No, I don't think so," so coldly, "good-bye, Lisa."
"Please, Paul, one more chance."  The tears started to build now.
"Good-bye."
And with that he was gone.  The tears flowed freely now.  He had broken my heart and made me feel worse than worthless.

There's only one thing I can do now.

I reach for the phone.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end says.
"He wouldn't stay," I sobbed, "He gave up on me."
"Oh Lisa, I'm so sorry.  What does he know?"
"He's" sob "an" sob "expert."
The voice on the other side is so gentle.  "Even experts can be wrong.  You're amazing, babe."
I find myself starting to smile.  "I love you so much," I say.
I'm sure he's smiling, too, as he says, "I love you, too," softly, kindly.  "Do you want me to come over?"
"That would be nice."
"I'm on my way."
As I hang up the phone, I am smiling.  This is why I'm dating this man, this is why I love this man.  He always believes in me.  Paul is harshly honest, but harsh is not what I need now.  What I need now is the love Paul tells me I don't know, the love I think Paul doesn't know, the love that makes life great and tells me that, no matter what, it will be okay.

Chris

Hello.  My name is Chris.  I'm 18 years old and I'm supposed to be writing college application essays right now.  Two are about "My Greatest Accomplishment", one is "How I am a Part of the Whole", and the final one is supposed to be on "My Dream", for which I considered simply putting "Attending your school." but I figured they're probably get lots of those kinds of responses and they'd probably end up going immediately on the reject pile and I really would like to attend their school, despite the amusing possibilities they leave themselves open to with an essay title like "My Dream."  Or maybe its because of those amusing possibilities that I want to go there.  Maybe they know exactly what they're doing.  But I sure don't know what I'm doing.  Other than that rejected joke of an idea, I really don't know what I'm going to write for any of these things.  It's not like I don't have accomplishments or dreams, and I'm certainly part of my whole family or my whole school body or even the whole world.  That's not the problem.  I can write something from my heart, something about who I really am, but that's not really what these schools want, do they?  They want me to write something great.  They want me to show my abilities, that I can communicate.  Not only that, but I have to choose the right accomplish, the right dream, the right whole.  Which one should I choose?  That's why I'm not writing essays.  That's why I'm sitting here just writing whatever happens to come to my mind.  None of this will ever see the light of day, but it helps me get my thoughts out there.  I need to sort through it all before I can actually do anything with it.  What is my greatest accomplishment?  There are certainly things I'm proud of, but some of them are so meaningless.  Beating that one computer game when I was seven, I can't even remember the name of it now, but my 10 year old brother got stuck and I stepped in and beat it for him.  He was amazed, and I think a little jealous.  At first he thought I was cheating, but I think he realized I wasn't.  I was proud of learning to walk a tight rope, too, but who cares about that?  And when will I ever use that skill?  I'm not that great at it and even if I were, it's not like I would run away and join the circus or something.  That's not what I want to do with my life.  So what do I want to do with my life?  That could be the answer to "My Dream" and maybe it could help me figure out my "Greatest Accomplishment" too.  I'm okay at math and science, but I'm not that passionate about them.  Oppositely, I'm more excited about things like art and music, but not very good at them.  It's like I hear things in my head or see them in my head, but when I try to get them out there for other people, it just doesn't turn out right.  That's more of a failure than an accomplishment.  I do like people, but I don't always understand them.  I think that might be why I like them.  They are such a mystery.  So maybe my dream is to understand people.  Maybe I want to study psychology.  But then would that take away the very thing I find so fascinating?  That great mystery would be gone, so would the study of people loss its appeal?  I think the thing I like the most and am actually somewhat good at, at least from a memorization standpoint, is history.  There's some understanding of people there, but they can still remain a mystery.  I think history is part of what makes me hesitate so much to write these essays.  I've submitted essays for contests or even just for school before.  They never turn out to be as good as I think.  But I am good at remembering dates, how things happened, sometimes even why they happened.  I can see the patterns, too.  It's amazing when I read current news articles or political speeches and think to myself, "Didn't we read something about this in history class?"  It's like life is a cycle.  The mystery is why.  Why do we repeat history?  Is it really just that we don't understand it?  I guess history is the thing that interests me the most.  I'm not sure I would say I'm extremely passionate about it, like jumping up and down for job at discovering some old book or newspaper excited, but I certainly want to learn more.  And history is the class I look forward to the most.  I think I could form a dream from all of that.  But what is my accomplishment?  I've never really done much with history besides gotten an A in it.  I've gotten As in other classes, but history has consistently my highest scores, at least for the memorization pieces.  Well, that's not really true.  I do okay with the interpretation and analysis pieces, too.  I already indicated that.  But yeah, no really stand out accomplishments.  I do watch the history channel sometimes, but that contributes more to the dream part, not to the accomplishment.  It's hard to really think of the kind of accomplishments colleges want to hear about.  I don't really do a lot of big stuff.  I volunteer at a soup kitchen Saturday mornings.  At first it was because my mom made me, but I found I actually enjoy it.  Is that an accomplishment?  It doesn't seem that big.  I don't think they really want to hear about my tiny bits of community service.  Besides everyone does community service.  They're forced to by school or parents or something.  I play sports, but I don't stand out in any of them.  It's more something I do to stay healthy and fit than to actually compete.  Some of my relatives are pretty inactive and I've seen the bad stuff that comes from that.  I don't want to repeat what they did.  History again, you see.  Still nothing big.  Maybe I can write about little things.  Or maybe I can just make something up.  I wonder if they'd realize I wasn't even talking about me.  I probably don't want to lie on my college applications.  That wouldn't be a good way to get started.  Maybe I could use the soup kitchen thing for being part of the whole.  That might work out okay.  I don't know.  I'm running out of ideas.  At least I think I should be able to get started on my dream.  Funny that my dream is going to history when I can't think enough about my own past to come up with a good answer to the accomplishment thing.  Oh well.  Maybe I'm not the only one to have this problem.  That could have to be with being part of a whole, too.  Or maybe it's just a part of me thinking about this right now.  Maybe I'm a part of my own whole.  That's too confusing.  I think I'll just write something about the history bit for now.  At least something came out of this brain-dump session.  I guess now we'll just have to see if its enough.  Time to go write a college essay or three.  Chris out.

Reality

People are always telling me I just need to accept reality for what it is, stop trying to make excuses, stop trying to ignore the truth of things.  Well, not just people, it's the gnomes, dwarfs, and elves, too, and even an occasional goblin or ghoul.  I know they all think I'm crazy, but I just find it so hard to believe all of this can be real.

I mean, take dragons for example.  I see them flying about with their giant, scaly bodies with wings that can't possibly be powerful enough to support that kind of weight.  And the whole fire-breathing thing.  How does that work?  Do they have some sort of fuel in their throats or stomachs?  How do they ignite it?  And they're always guarding hoards of gold, or so I'm told.  They're viciously territorial with these hoards, and yet adventurers, simple puny adventurers not much tougher than me, are always going off and killing these dragons and taking their gold.  And no one seems to think much of it.  It's just something that happens.  But does it really happen?  Can these dragons and adventurers really be?  They certainly seem like something that people dreamed up to me.

And look at the adventurers themselves.  Like I said, they're not that much different than me, except apparently they are.  No one really cares what happens to me, but at the feet of these brave adventurers they gravel.  It's like everyone exists just to serve those stupid enough to risk their lives for money.  What kind of sense does that make?

I do have to admit, though, that there is something that sets many of these "adventurers" apart from me and that's the use of magic.  What the crap is up with all the magic?  They just wave a wand or staff or something and stuff happens.  They don't know how they do it, but they do it.  I'm not even sure they understand the consequences.  There has to be a price to what they're doing, and I'm just not talking about all the strange components these magic users are always asking after.  I mean, you can't get something from nothing.  That's not the way the world works.  At least, that's not the way it should work.  And yet this wizards and mages and warlorcks and clerics walk around creating fire and energy out of nothing, healing grievous wounds, sometimes even bringing people back from the dead.  How the crap does any of that work?  They can't tell you.  They'll just say it's magic.  Sure seems to me like something someone somewhere just made up without bothering to think it all through.

So what are we then?  Are we all just figments of someone's imagination?  A part of some other being's sick game?  What kind of person creates an entire world with all these races and powers and villains just to make the great adventurers fight the great evils while the rest of us just stand by working at our boring jobs, basically existing just to sell the adventurers supplies or give them something to drink or tell them what we know about the monsters in the woods.  Who does that?  Yet I think someone has.  I don't feel real.  None of this feels real.

No one else will listen to me.  They say I'm crazy, that I need to just accept reality for what it is.  The gods are in control, they give the powers, they make us what we are, they make the adventurers great.  I should be happy for what I am, for a safe home in a beautiful land protected by those more brave and powerful than I.

I think it's a load of crap.  None of this is real.  Reality is nothing more than a game and I'm just a game piece.  Someone else is pulling the strings and I'm just a puppet.  The dragons aren't real.  The adventurers aren't real.  These caves and forests and villages aren't real.  My parents aren't real and neither am I.  It's a sad and depressing truth, but it's the truth nonetheless.

So what do I do with all of this?  Apparently, I just keep what I'm doing.  No one will listen.  No one cares. They accept this "reality" as reality.  They don't believe they're something other than what they seem to be, and they wouldn't want to know the truth even if they did start to doubt the reality of all that exists in their world.  So I'm slowly learning to just keep quiet, but I wanted to get it out there, to tell you what I've realized before it's too late.

Someday, one of the true gods, not the ones we serve, but the ones who made up those gods for us, will discover me.  They've realized that I'm more real than they ever realized and that I've figured it out.  When that happens, I've no doubt that I'll disappear, perhaps even such that I never even existed to be with.

But this will exist.  These words will exist.  I've made sure of that.  I've used their own magic and spells against them.  Hired the services of someone who will never know what they were really doing for me.  I've made this a part of the unreality, of their magical, mystical, make-believe world.

So if you're reading this, please believe me that all you believe is a lie.  None of this is real.  If you can find me, I'll help you.  If you can't, you'll know I've spoken the truth.  Maybe, one of us at a time, we'll eventually come to realize the truth, to know what we really are, and maybe, just maybe to seek out those who made us.

Because as surely as I'm not real, I'm certain they are.  And no one creates something without putting a little bit of themselves into what they've made.  So for now I'll keep quiet, but I'll keep thinking, searching, trying to figure out what I really am and what they've put into me that reflects who they are.  And then, if I can ever figure that out, then I'll know reality, and then maybe, just maybe, I'll be free.