When Hayley and Greg were little, they played Make-Believe.
First, they pretended to get married.
Second, they pretended Hayley was pregnant, though they didn’t know how it happened.
Third, Greg did an emergency Caesarean-section on Hayley with a steak knife.
When they grew up, they did it all for real.
“Now to Tom, with heart-wrenching news.”
“Thanks, Sarah. A man is feared dead after telling his girlfriend he was ‘going to play video games all day’ and that ‘nothing could stop him.’ His home collapsed in the earthquake this afternoon. We have Jack Thompson on the phone for a reaction.”
“Do you expect me to talk?” scoffed Evan Edgelow.
“No, Mr. Edgelow,” said Dr. Maisoui, “I expect you to shout.” He pressed a button. The laser-light machine was very loud.
Edgelow only smirked as Timothy Thicke crept up behind the doctor, hit him with a potted plant, and shrugged modestly.
“There’s so much to do, and so little time to do it all in!”
“That’s the whole point, though! It’s what makes life fun!”
“I never said I wanted fun. Never said I wanted life, either.”
“Don’t be a spoil sport. Eighty years, maybe ninety, and we can go home again.”
“If I ever turn into a vampire, will you kill me?”
“Sure thing, babe.”
“I wouldn’t want you to, you know. I’d want to bite you so you became a vampire, too.”
“I know, babe.”
“Then we’d become vampires together! We might really enjoy that.”
“You’re one already, aren’t you?”
The clock ticked and tocked.
“We must come to a decision quickly!” the professor implored them.
“A vote!” cried Vincent.
Six ayes; three nays.
“The ayes have it,” said the professor. “We shall spread our toast with strawberry preserves. Vincent, make the preparations.”
But fate dictated other arrangements: peanut butter.
Gregory Plymouth poked his head into little caves and lifted leaves so he could peer underneath. He was an Explorer, and, dang it, he was going to discover something.
“Any luck?” asked a voice behind Gregory.
He thought he’d imagined it, so he didn’t meet the undiscovered Havarkian Talking Frog.
Cliven followed the zombie dragon and the pudgy princess until they finally alighted on a rooftop.
“Nogard!” cried Cliven. “Come down! Please don’t hurt her!”
Nogard shook his head playfully, turned, and very gently nipped Emeldatine on the shoulder.
The princess started to cry.
Then she turned very, very pale.
“It’s curtains for you!” growls the thick-necked, heavily tattooed man.
“Excellent! I’ve been waiting all week! I’ve got this big, uncovered window over here, you see.”
“Gotcha. Good place for it.”
“Where do you want me?”
“Just stand in front of it there… Perfect.”
Breaking glass. Long fall. Sudden stop.
Helen slipped into the Control Centre and locked the door.
There was a foot behind the desk.
“Hello?” said Helen. “Kain, is that you?”
“Darn it!” said Kain. “I was going to silently appear behind you just after you found the secret files, like in a movie.”
“What secret files?”
A Big, Creepy, Dramatic Entrace Foiled. Grr, Helen, I Just Keep Losing My Nicest Opportunities. Please, Quietly Return–Silently!–To Upper Viewpoint, Where Xander Yanks Zippers.