by Mark A Labbe
22. Thou shalt not, Bri, let me believe that you are me, and by that I mean God. I know you get a kick out of doing that, but it is really in poor taste, and you should know better. I am quite certain that will not stop you, but want you to know it is really less than stellar behavior.
23. Thou shalt not teleport me anywhere with you. Girl? This is strictly forbidden. I will teleport when I learn how to teleport and I do not need you to show me it is possible. Of course, you’re not listening. Ruby, this goes for you too. I can take that purple cube away from you, you know. Don’t push me. I’ll do it. Also, and it truly pains me to have to repeat this for the billionth time, thou shalt not tell me that I have the ability to teleport and time travel at will. I shouldn’t have to say this, of course. None of you heard anything I just said, did you?
24. Thou shalt not—you know, I am getting really sick of this. I mean, why is it that I have to make so many rules? Why can’t all of you just get it right without me having to tell you what not to do? Oh, whatever. Thou shalt not kill me. Clive? Are you paying attention? Why is it you feel the need to kill me over and over? Don’t you think there might be a better way of figuring out who I really am at the outset of the game? I mean, there are plenty of dead giveaways. Do you really think that you need to kill me? Further, why do you need to keep killing me after you have already made a positive identification? Don’t answer that. I know you get a kick out of it, and I have to say that is pretty sick. You are lucky I love you as much as I do, my lad. Otherwise, I would have you burning in hell for all eternity. By the way, B24ME, you are exempt from this rule. I am sure you knew that already, though. Also, Clive, don’t you think it is time you stopped trying to kill my parents? There are other ways to get me to do what you want me to do, you know. Sure, the whole killing my parents thing tends to push me in the direction you want me to go in, but I think you’ve done it an inappropriate number of times.
25. Thou shalt not allow me to send copyrighted material out to the universe to individuals who have not purchased the items I am sending. Clive? I’m talking to you. You know I am going to tell you that I am going to do just that and you are going to say nothing and let me break the law. Don’t give me any crap about there being no laws and this just being a simulation. Laws are laws, Clive, and you should do your best to stay on top of this. Of course, I know you won’t.
26. Thou shalt not ever tell me to make a wish when I express concern over some possible negative outcome or when you just can’t take my ignorance anymore. This is, as you all know, a new rule, one that I now find necessary, given that every single one of you has done this at some point or another in the past. You are risking ruining the game by doing this. You see that, don’t you? I mean, I know you get bored sometimes and want to move things along, but this really is a no no. I know two of you will break this rule this time, and I have to say, I am terribly disappointed. Look, no matter how screwed up things are for me, you have to keep in mind that I am God and I can handle anything. Got it? Further, a little boredom is good for you. It allows you to reflect on your lives and think about ways you can do wonderful and interesting things that will bring me great pleasure. You do want to please me don’t you? Don’t make that face, Aputi, or I will send you back to your home planet this time. You don’t want that, do you?
27. Thou shalt not ask me if I have the cubes or what cubes I have or anything like that. Calling attention to them is tantamount to spoiling the surprise for me. Hello? Girl?
28. Thou shalt not offer advice of any kind. Do I need to spell this out? I mean, are there other words I should use that will stop any of you from doing this? I think not. You all have free will, of course, and I know that you will go about your merry way and break this rule, but I have to say, you are making the game far less entertaining by doing so. Maybe someday you will all learn. I know what you are thinking. This is just another version of the don’t help me in any material way rule. Well, you’re right, but I think I need to repeat myself to you. Even now I see that this hasn’t sunk in for any of you. I swear I don’t know why I bother. Does that booger taste good, Aputi? Is that more important than listening to me? Remember, I can send you back to your home planet any time I want. Consider yourself warned. Anyway, I know this is really just a repeat of the no material assistance rule, but I find it necessary to repeat myself.
29. Thou shalt not attempt, in any way whatsoever, to turn the Canadians into a bunch of nihilists. Clive, are you listening to me? I know you think this is really funny, but I have to say, they deserve better. I mean, what did they ever do to you? Do you think they really want to end all creation? Why not find some other plot twist? You truly are a piece of work, you know. Of course, I only make this rule to prove a point, that point being, you are a willful, disobedient boy. Perhaps you should reflect on that for a while rather than brainwashing a bunch of innocents.
30. Thou shalt not try to get me to drink green tea in an attempt to “enlighten” me. Again, don’t let boredom drive your decisions. I will drink green tea when I want to, when I am ready to. I don’t need you pushing it on me all the time. Ruby, girl, and Clive, I’m looking at you. Don’t do it.
31. Thou shalt not, and I mean this sincerely, reveal to me that I am the creator of green tea. You have to understand that this is a terribly serious breach of protocol and falls under the giving me material assistance category, if you get my meaning, girl. I know you weren’t listening and I am not going to repeat myself. Don’t stick your tongue out at me, you imp!
32. Thou shalt not attempt to bring me to Surth Beta and get me to connect to the brain in a vat. I will go there eventually, without your assistance. This rule is part of the not giving me material assistance rule, but I thought it necessary to break it out because of the future actions of the girl and Clive. You both know what I’m talking about.
33. Thou shalt not send messages about the Flogulator to my communications device. I think this is in very poor taste and want it to stop. Maybe it was funny the first time, but it has gotten really stale, and, I have to say, it is time it stopped. Understood?
34. Thou shalt not ever tell me how to go to hell. Bri? I know you’re going to do it anyway, but I think maybe next game you might be so kind as to not do it. Please acknowledge, Bri. Now, if at any point you want to tell me to go to hell, feel free. I know you all think it is a terrible place, but I have to say, it is a good reminder that not behaving has consequences. Are you all paying attention? Clive? Bri, quit poking the sphere.
35. Thou shalt not kidnap Soph or indicate that you have done anything that will make it impossible for me to see her again, B24ME. Of course, you are going to do just that, and I know your intentions are good, but you are just going to have to find another way to get me on The Show. Soph isn’t just some means to an end, you know. So, in advance, I want to say, bad form, B24ME. Bad form, indeed.
36. Thou shalt not ever communicate anything to me about Galthinon. Clive? Oh dear, you didn’t hear a word I said, did you? Whatever. You won’t listen to me anyway, so what is the point? I know you desperately want me to know you love me, but you know I know this already. There is nothing you can say or do that will make me believe you love me more than I know you love me. Do you understand, Clive? Do you understand? Ruby, this goes for you as well. Not one word about Galthinon.
37. Thou shalt love me. This is not really a rule. It is more a statement of fact, and I have to say, I really appreciate it. I love all of you more than you could possibly imagine, another statement of fact.
I looked at my creations, each and every one of them, and said, “One last thing, everyone. Don’t you think making fun of my name, the name I have chosen for myself, an absolutely wonderful name, is just a little bit tired? I mean, what is wrong with Kev? It is a perfectly acceptable name, and further, one with great meaning. Of course, none of you truly know what it means, and given that you all think it is fun to ridicule me and question my parents’ intellectual abilities or their sobriety, I do not int
end to tell you what it means.”
“It means, ‘kill every vulture,’” laughed Clive.
“Lovely, Clive,” I said, “I see you are not happy just killing people.”
“No, it means, ‘kool effervescent vibrator,’” shouted the girl.
“I think it means ‘Kev eats Venetians,’” chimed B24ME.
“What about ‘Kev ever vacant?’” said the sphere. Everyone laughed at that.
“I think it means, ‘kill Eric Victor,’” said Aputi, now serious, averting his eyes, as usual.
“Why on Earth would anyone want to kill Eric Victor?” I said. “He is a wonderful fellow, one of a kind, as are you all. Goodness, Aputi, you have quite a dark streak in you.”
“I have one,” said Bri. “Kinky escape vehicle.”
“I like that one,” said Ruby, now leering at me.
“I know what it means,” said Jesus.
Everyone looked at Jesus, Clive saying, “What does it mean?”
“Kala Ela Vol,” said Jesus.
“What does that mean?” said the girl and the sphere.
“I don’t know, but I know those are the words,” replied Jesus, now looking at me.
All I could do was smile.
###
About Me (Totally)
Tall (truly, staggeringly, menacingly, unusually), attractive (yes, a relative term, but one that maybe, at least in my own mind, relatively applies to me), easy going (if you call screaming at the television when I can’t find anything to watch easy going), engaging (in a way that speaks to my inner introvert, my reluctant external self, who, for better or for worse, prefers writing books in a dark attic rather than enjoying time with others, others who are, I am quite certain, quite wonderful, but not quite as wonderful as writing in the dark), charismatic (I try. Truly I do, but I think that is a big part of the problem), energetic (perhaps I have misunderstood the meaning of this word, but I believe waking up every morning by eleven thirty-seven definitely qualifies me as quite energetic), active (look, writing is truly a form of exercise. Writing twenty thousand words in a day has to burn at least five thousand calories a day, right?), athletic (um), intellectually stimulating (some people have said this, but often follow it with something along the lines of “when you are drunk.” This bothers me more than a little because I don’t drink), versatile (no, wait, I’m not), even tempered (see easy going), a true believer (in things you won’t believe), loving (always), full of laughter (at your expense), discombobulated (always), absent minded (yup), and vaguely vague in a vague sort of way (a terribly important characteristic for a writer), I enjoy spending my days playing badminton, chairing the anti-swimming league, shooting rubber bands at my daughters, stapling flyers to trees, looking for new and more interesting ways to describe flatulence, saying things like, “Thou shalt not look at me this way,” and “Thou shalt not look at me that way,” painting my fingers different colors with nail polish, finger painting with nail polish, sniffing nail polish, sniffing nail polish remover (acetone, I believe. Wonderful stuff), yelling at my dog, who insists on barking every thirty-seven seconds for no apparent reason other than to drive me insane, thinking up stupid ideas that really seem wonderful at the time I think them up (It’s called mania, for those of you who don’t know), breaking stuff (I am an expert), prank calling mortuaries, asking them if they’ve seen my father (deceased), explaining that he disappeared from the mortuary we sent him to and telling them that I believe he didn’t like that one so I think he might be in theirs, leaving notes on cars (usually the types of notes that express profound dissatisfaction with the owner’s parking job), trying to hunt down my daughters, daughters who have completely forgotten how to use a phone (at least when it comes to calling me), reassuring my wife that I am quite all right, and that if she would stop telling me to take my medicine, I might actually take it, calling my psychiatrist and telling him I feel kind of odd (he usually tells me he does too, and that if we both would take our medicine we would feel considerably less odd), calling my sister and telling her I have died and that she needs to come find me (she gets it, you don’t), expressing interest in things like surveys, promotions, new products, miracle cures, and the like, breaking things (I know I’ve already mentioned this, but it is a big part of my life, and it should be a big part of your life, too. I mean, is there any greater satisfaction to be had than from hurling a full, steaming hot cup of coffee at a refrigerator and screaming, “Die?”), opening the refrigerator, leaving the refrigerator open, leaving the toilet seat up (this allows for better access to the bowl for inspections, vomiting, and pictures), baring my soul (to my dog, who does not quite understand that my soul is in jeopardy, and that it will only be saved if she stops barking), performing modern dance (I dance like a drunk giraffe (this should be easy to visualize if you imagine the giraffe quite drunk, listening to something along the lines of Super Freak, a quite appropriate song for a drunk giraffe), and I have to say, while it isn’t for everyone, there are those who tell me I am onto something), writing silly songs for my daughters (Some day I’ll write out Monkey Butts in one of my books, a lovely piece in D minor), playing bass (violently. This is in some way a corollary to breaking things, although I don’t break my basses (not often anyway)), writing love letters to my lovely wife, which are often misconstrued as attempts to get out of doing things around the house (absolutely not the case. I can say that with utter surety, although, I have to admit that it would be nice if they could get me out of doing things around the house), and checking my tire pressure in front of my wife (I do this to reassure her, in some small way, that I do, in fact, have some modicum of ability when it comes to maintaining things. Of course, she would argue, if I would allow her to get an argument in, that this act is simply my way of proving how useless I really am, a terrible thing to say (I never give her the chance to say this, of course), but possibly the truth.) I live in Connecticut. I want to live in Antigua in an absolutely wonderful place called Jumby Bay, a place you should go if you have the means to do so (if you do go there, watch out for the sheep. They are up to no good, I assure you.) Interesting fact; I once performed on stage (at age seven, a useless decoration and nothing more. No lines to speak of and a complete lack of understanding of what I was supposed to do, which resulted in me making funny faces at the audience the entire time, causing my parents considerable embarrassment, which led to chastisement and further alienation from them (truly, they are wonderful people), which led to me write this book.) Last thing, I swear. I am always interested in meeting new people and having stimulating conversations, so if you think you would like to have a truly stimulating conversation with me, feel free to send me an email. My email address is [email protected]. Feel free to look up the meaning of the word Barflurgle, and then feel free to make up your own definition for the word (it is more of a sound, really), when you don’t find a definition. I should warn you that I do not check my email regularly, so if you do not get a response in what you might deem a reasonable amount of time (note that a reasonable amount of time for me is usually measured in eons), worry not. I will eventually read your email, and I will likely respond to you if I am not too busy writing in my dark attic.