The Complaints Department
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving stuff... bla bla bla... yadda yadda, ext, ext. In one age, called 2004 by... well, everyone, a sound rose in a perfectly white, perfectly cubic room. It was a small, scratchy sound, and it wasn't the beginning. It was the middle, or maybe the end, but certainly not the beginning. Beginnings stink, rather like week-old carcasses do when you leave them in the garage. The point is, the sound was not a beginning.
In the perfectly white, perfectly cubic room with no openings of any kind was a person, whom we shall refer to as Secret. She sat at a plain wooden desk, with an enormous and blank book in front of her and a big feather pen in her hand. Sitting with her chin in her hands, she would, every once in a while, abandon her dreamy pose to write in the book. In front of the desk stood a sign framed in gold that read Complaints in big red letters.
A few minutes later, a gateway wrought with the One Power appeared in front of the desk, and out stepped Rand in all his foxitude and manly beautifulness. He paid no attention to Secret, and instead began a heated conversation with thin air. "Damn it, Lews Therin!" He shouted in irritation. "I've told you a thousand times to stop having pillow fights with Alviarin in my head!" He gestured wildly at the opposite perfectly white wall for emphasis.
"Oh Rand, you insufferable nonentity!" Rand responded to himself in a much more sophisticated accent. "If you do not cease your bickerings, I shall have at Elmindreda with a butcher knife!"
"Go ahead!" Rand shouted. "I have two more strumpets to play around with anyway!"
He turned away from the desk, crossing his arms and pouting. "Crap. It never works. One day, I'm going to grab an Uzi and blast them all to pieces. Except Alviarin, of course," he added. "She's too hot."
"You better not," Rand threatened himself, "or I'll cut out my left eyeball that you sometimes take control of!" He stood very still, still staring at nothing. "Lews Therin? Lews Theeeeerin? ... Woohoo, he's out for the night!"
Secret cleared her throat loudly, and Rand finally turned around to acknowledge her presence. "Welcome to the Wheel of Time Headquarters," she said in the most bored tone imaginable. "This is SecretlyEvil's office, and you are in the Complaints Department. How can I help you, sir?" She made it sound as though it were all one sentence.
"I'd like to file a complaint."
"Lews Therin." Rand blinked and gave his head a shake. "Er, I mean, Rand al'Thor."
"Well, which is it?" asked Secret lazily.
"Both," he responded, and, without the slightest trace of surprise or confusion, Secret scrawled away in her book.
"What is your complaint, sir?"
The red-haired hottie crossed his arms over his big, muscled chest (that he doesn't really deserve, as all he ever does is sit around on his behind eating grapes and boinking the ladies) and stuck out his lower lip in the sexiest pout since Angelina Jolie. "I am not mad. Insane, yes. Crazy? Maybe. But certainly not mad!"
Rand's eyebrows slanted sceptically. "What are you talking about, you psychopathic nutter? Of course you're mad! You talk to yourself, man!"
He put his hands to his temples and shook his head frantically. "Shut up, shut up!" He cried. "You're supposed to be gone! Beat it, Therin! I wasn't joking about cutting my eyeball out!"
"Really? I thought that was only crazy talk," Rand countered, and then burst into a fit of giggles. Seconds later, his expression shifted to that of pure outrage and fury. "That's it, you man whore! I'm going to beat your antique guts out!"
He began pulling up his sleeves, teeth grinding in agitation. "Not if I do it first, you crazy little S.O.B!" With that, he threw himself to the ground and began a wild tussle with nothing visible. Secret stared blankly ahead of her, as if nutcases frequently beat themselves up in front of her desk.
Ten minutes later, after Rand had finally beaten himself into submission and was leaning panting against a corner of the desk, a large rectangle began to slowly push outward from one of the perfectly white walls. Green lines weaved along its surface, and lush leaves sprouted from the twisted vines of the materializing doorway. Once the movement had stopped, it swung open, and out swaggered Matrim Cauthon sporting his wide-brimmed hat and his other Age of Legends paraphernalia. In his hand was a near empty bottle of expensive wine.
He stumbled up to the desk, bearing several of his teeth in a swoon-inducing smile. Secret watched, unfazed by his incredible charm, as he slammed the bottle down onto the hard wood and leaned toward her with both hands on each corner of the desk, breathing his terrible alcohol breath all over her face. Several purses dropped out of his pocket, and he spared them only a casual glance before turning back to the secretary.
"Why, hello there, beautiful. I would be laying on the flattery right now, because you seem the right type of slut who'll let a complete stranger with a bit of cash grab at her ass and stare at her might-as-well-be-bare boobs, but I'm drunk, and I'm annoyed, so... maybe some other time, eh? I know you're just dying to have me, what with my amazing looks and all that."
Secret waited until he was finished, and then droned out her required introduction in quite possibly an even more bored voice then her earlier one. "Welcome to the Wheel of Time Headquarters. This is SecretlyEvil's office, and you are in the Complaints Department. How can I help you, sir?" She strung it all out in one breath, as though there was no punctuation.
Mat smirked. "Well, how do you want to help me, darling?" He shifted his position, standing at his ease against the table.
Secret stared up at him, blinked a couple times, then began flipping through her book. After several minutes (once she had looked through her volume from cover to cover) she looked up at Mat once more. "I'm afraid I'm not trained on how to respond to that particular sentence, sir. Please rephrase."
Mat curled his lip at her, giving her a "What the hell kind of planet did you fall off of?" look. "Babe, you're either crazy or just brain-washed, and I've had too many bad experiences with both types, so, um... call me." He turned to leave, and stumbled over Rand's outstretched leg. "Hey hey, it's Rand! Whoa, what happened to you?"
Looking up at Mat with unfocused eyes and a slack jaw, Rand mumbled to himself. "Damn Lews Therin... put that hatchet down..."
"Oh... right on..." Slowly backing away, Mat slipped through the rectangle against the wall, closing the door behind him with a slam. The intricate pattern of intertwining vines on its surface began to slowly unwind, but just before the door disappeared completely, it swung open anew, and in bounded Perrin Aybara. Around his neck, a collar of tightly fitted red leather was attached to a similar leash, the other end held by none other then Faile Bashere, who stepped regally into the perfectly white, perfectly cubic room with her nose in the air. At her feet, Perrin leaped about, panting and slobbering.
Faile Bashere (who looks remarkably like Jackie from That 70's Show) stalked up to the desk, leading a prancing dog/wolf/Perrin. Secret gazed up at her expectantly, showing no sign that she recognised or even noticed Faile's "I am really pissed off and you'd better fix it now" look.
The fist that held Perrin's leash planted itself on her hip, while the other smacked down a print of SecretlyEvil's The Real Glossary onto the open pages of Secret's thick volume. Without even batting an eyelash at the paper, Secret spoke her piece. "Welcome to the Wheel of Time Headquarters. This is SecretlyEvil's office, and you are in the Complaints Department. How can I help you, ma'am?"
The irritated client snapped her fingers in front of Secret's nose. "Oh, it's Mrs. to you, hun. Mrs. I'm going to kick your sorry, fat behind if you ain't gonna fix this shit."
Secret swept aside the copy of the offending article and began once again leafing through her manual. Moments later, she snapped it shut again and faced Faile anew. "I apologise, if I've caused offence in saying your name incorrectly, Mrs. I'm going to kick your sorry, fat behind if you ain't gonna fix this shit," she said with a straight face and a very, very bored tone. "Please allow me to give you any assistance that is in my capacity as a worker here at the Wheel of Time Headquarters."
Faile turned to her collared husband, who was busying himself with sniffing at Rand's shoelaces. "GOD DAMN IT, PERRIN, STOP STARING AT HER!" she shrieked at him, proceeding to screech a jumble of obscenities and thrash the half-man, who sat unheeding on the floor, still absorbed in Rand's boots.
She managed to collect herself, and, straightening her hair, turned back to Secret, who sat at her desk as calm as ever. "Yes, I want to complain about that stupid article-" she began.
"Name please," Secret interrupted.
Faile looked flustered and severely P.O-ed at being cut off, but she cooperated... reluctantly. "Faile Bashere t'Aybara."
"What is your complaint, ma'am?"
The temperamental young woman placed both hands on her hips, preparing for a bout of serious ranting. "I just want to say that that whole thing is a load of beeping crap. It was complete stupidity and I am so beeping pissed off that I was beeping left out! I mean, I am SO much more of a beeping bitch then that beeped up Nyneave! That beeping whore's got nothing on me, and I am so beeping mad that you beeping people can't beeping realise that! BEEP YOU ALL!"
Once Secret had finished writing all of this down, she put her feather pen back on the desk, folded her hands overtop of the book, and said, "Thank you for submitting your complaint to the Wheel of Time Headquarters. We appreciate your efforts to improve our services, and we hope you will come again.
Faile picked up her copy of the article and began to walk away. Halfway to the door, she turned back. "Thank you. That was very refreshing." And she left with Perrin at her heels.
A minute or two passed by. The perfectly white, perfectly cubic room remained silent except for the occasional bout of mumbling from Rand, who was still sitting against the leg of the desk.
There was a very loud popping noise, and Elayne, Aviendha and Min all appeared in the middle of the room, decked out in their RFCT paraphernalia. They were all chatting amongst themselves, not noticing any of their surroundings.
"I can't believe we're, like, figuring out all these lost talents!" Elayne gushed, chewing a wad of RFCT bubblegum and twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. "I mean sure, competent and much more experienced Aes Sedai have, like, proclaimed them lost for centuries, but we're, like, super humans!"
"Yeah," Aviendha agreed. "I mean, we're just weakling little girls who've been sent on amazing adventures for very far-fetched reasons, and we've survived even though the Dark Lord himself wants us dead. Isn't it awesome?"
"Totally!" cried Min. "And on top of all that, Rand's like, crazy about us, so, like, all the Forsaken should have killed us, like, thirteen and a half times over, but, we're like, really lucky, you know?"
"Totally!" they all screamed in unison, and fell about giggling like pansies. When they were done, Min suddenly pointed to the half passed out Rand against the desk.
"Oh my God, it's Rand!" she shrieked, and they all ran to him and crowded around him.
"Aw, look," Elayne cooed. "He's almost beat himself to death. And he'll probably do the same thing to us! Isn't that so sweet?"
"And look at that adorable scar!" Aviendha fawned, lifting up Rand's shirt to display his grotesque deformation. "It's all puckered and swollen. I can just feel the evil radiating from it! It's such a turn-on!"
"Isn't it, though," Min laughed. "And isn't it the cutest thing that he's sleeping with all of us and we know about it! It's wrong on so many levels, but we're just so desperate, it doesn't matter!" They all laughed loudly, and the sound brought Rand to his senses.
"Oh, hey!" Rand said, surprised to see them. "It's the girls that fulfill my dirty needs for free! Do you guys want to go over there and have a foursome?"
"Yeah!" the three ladies gasped excitedly. So the four young kids hustled off to a corner and... well, I'm not going to go through the pains of describing it. If you're too young to know how it works... what the hell are you reading this for?! Woops, pardon me. Language, language, SecretlyEvil... Cough cough... Anyways...
Rand and his three girlfriends eventually cleared off, once they realised that Secret had closed up for the day.
If you're wondering why Nynaeve, Birgitte and Egwene didn't go, I'll let you in on some background information.
Nynaeve spent the entire day at the Merchandise Department trying to get a hold of the mentioned "pills", and Birgitte dropped by in the Help Section to beg them to get her way from Elayne. Egwene was too busy trying to stow some very naughty rumours about her and Rand to be able to visit the Wheel of Time Headquarters at all.
Secret quit her job as desk clerk, and then proceeded to get the company to pay for her therapy after the traumatising ordeal behind the desk. A month later, Mat Cauthon served some jail time for stalking her, though he publicly claimed: "No! I am cool! I have tons of ladies!" Aes Sedai are still attempting to find out what he means.
beep : substitute for the word fuck. Woops... sort of defeats the purpose, doesn't it...
RFCT : stands for Rand Fan Club Trio. For further information, see chapter one of The Real Glossary.
Well, I'd just like to mention that I wrote half of this late at night, so some of this stuff you may think is just plain stupid, while I was laughing my toenails off at my own wit. Gotta love me, eh? Cheers to all who read and review! Remember, I love to make you laugh!