And so it begins...

"Natalie, I need you."

"Mr. Monk, I have Julie's recital. You can go buy some wipes down at Wal-Mart. You can go grab a taxi. It'll be easy."

"But Natalie, I can't go in a taxi! I'm me!"

"I'm sorry Mr. Monk, but I really can't miss this. You can do it without me, I believe in you."

"Natalie! Natalie, I'm your boss! I command you! I command you-"

A small click signalized the end of the conversation.

Adrian sighed dejectedly as he hung up his sterilized phone. Not only would he have to buy them on his own, but it was night already!

But he really needed wipes.

Before, a small fire had broken out in his kitchen when he had tried to clean the electrical socket where his microwave was plugged in. Thankfully, he had been able to put out the fire using one of the many spare fire extinguishers he kept around, but one of his packets of wipes had been singed. He had to throw them out.

And he was left with ninety-nine packs of wipes.


Ninety… nine…

Gathering every nerve in his body, he grabbed his coat, organizing the change in his pocket as he did.

After straightening the mirror, he nervously walked outside of the house.

A small, green light in the distance caught his eye. He had lived here for 20 years, and never had he seen such a thing. Before his mind could come up with a possibility as to what it was, it sped over at an impossible speed, until it was hovering over him.

Immediately, a bright white light engulfed him.

"Naaataaalieeeeee." He wailed.

"I told you. This always happens to me. Everything always goes wrong." He sniffed

Adrian closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was strapped down to a metal device.

Lights were flashing around him, and a line of unusual tools were assembled on the wall. He feebly stretched his hand in a desperate attempt to touch the point of a nearby light structure.

Adrian gasped. Before him was…

"Azlan!" Adrian gasped, momentarily forgetting the light.

"Yes! It is I", declared Azlan the Lion.

"Where am I?" Monk demanded.

"Relax, Adrian. Just close your eyes."

Mr. Monk could have sworn the lion seemed smug, judging by the glint in his handsome eyes. But before he could analyze it further a strange colored gas seeped in through vents in the room. A cold sensation gripped him as he slipped from conciousness.

Reviews are appreciated.

Writer A would like to note that she is greatly sorry, but also greatly entertained.

Writer B would like to note that she is greatly entertained. Not in the least bit sorry.