Magic! Dude, that’s awesome. Ain’t it? I mean, it’s all magical like. Owen Tucker, master magician. Oh yeah. That sounds good. Got a nice oomph to it, don’t you think? Oh hey, cool. Oomph is actually a word. That’s sweet. I’m gonna have to use it a lot more often now.
Anyway, yeah, more cool magical stuff coming up in this here journal thingy.
8/13/2012: On this date (that being the 13th of August in the year 2012) I was feeling good. I don’t know why, but the day just felt good. Like it was special for someone somewhere.
Or it might’ve felt special because I just found out that I was in the possession of an item that gave me the power to use magic. That might’ve had something to do with it. But I doubt it. Because this item could also talk, and it wanted me to use it for evil. So not all fun and flowers.
“I’ll never use you for evil!” I protested.
You gave your word.
“Oh darn.” I sat in a nearby chair. “That does rather put a damper on it, doesn’t it?”
No more stalling. Evil awaits.
I sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll use you for evil.”
With a glance around the room I knew what I must do.
I pointed the sword and yelled, “Fire!”
The poor little cricket burst into flames and died with many screams and shrieks of anguish. I covered my ears and closed my eyes to block out the terrible scene of agonizing death. After a few seconds the sounds stopped and the flames receded, leaving behind nothing but a tiny pile of ash.
I heaved a huge sigh. “Whew. Glad that’s over with. Okay, now can we get down to the really awesome magic using business?”
You have yet to use me for evil.
I stared at it, aghast. “What are you talking about? Didn’t you see and hear how that poor cricket died? I killed it in cold blood in the most horrible and awful manner ever. Isn’t that evil enough for you?”
Put simply. No.
“Then you, my glassish friend, are really very evil.”
I am.
“Pardan mah intarupptin’, but wha’ tha heck jest ‘appened there?”
“Well I had to use the sword thingy for evil,” I began explaining. “So I had to kill that cricket, but now the sword isn’t satisfied so it’s being not nice and turns out that it is very really evil. Oh wait, no, really very evil. There we go.”
There was a moment of silence before Wilfred replied.
“Ef ya say so…”
I waved the sword thingy with a fancy twirl. “Make it so that Wilfred can hear you too.”
He can. The wild flourishing is not necessary.
I shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s cool.”
No. It is not.
“Ya knoo, Ah thenk Ah’m gonna like thes thin’.”
“Oh shut up,” I said. “Before we go any further, you’re gonna need a name.”
“Ah got a name.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not you. The sword thingy. I can’t keep calling it the sword thingy. So,” I held it at eye level. “What’s your name?”
I have no name.
“Awesome! That means I get to name you.”
“Oh dear.”
The sword thingy and Wilfred spoke at the same time. I ignored them and concentrated on thinking of fully awesome names. It took me a few minutes, but eventually the perfect one came to me.
“I got it! From this moment forward you, sir sword thingy, shall be known as—drum roll please—Dave!”
Silence greeted this statement. I knew it. They were struck silent in awe of the sheer brilliance and awesomeness of the name.
And so Dave joined the ranks.
To be continued…
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