Enough About Me

by S. G. Wilson

  Juvenile Hall pressed a button on his MePad, and lightning crackled through the goop holding us up. Pinpricks jabbed every cell in my body, and then my insides lit on fire. I thought I heard Meticulous scream, but it could just as easily have been me. We screamed alike, after all.

  For a moment, the fizz flared in me stronger than ever. My body could have broken free in a dozen ways. My mind could have dreamed up a hundred escape plans. But just like that, the feeling of invincibility shrank to nothing, leaving a cave in my guts.

  It was over. I wasn’t All of Me anymore. I was just Average. Just a nobody. Just another Me.

  Meticulous and I hung in the origami drive’s energy field like two bugs sucked dry in a web. “I don’t get it,” said Meticulous. “I never had the fizz. So why do I feel so knackered?”

  Knackered. That was one way to describe the feeling of having your superpowers vacuumed straight out of your body.

  Up above, sparks ran along the cable to the charger on the limo, bathing Prez’s MeMinder in a green glow. Getting the go-ahead from Juvenile Hall, Prez pried the MeMinder from its perch and strapped it to his wrist. He jumped as a flash of green burst from the watch, then laughed when he realized it didn’t hurt. He tapped at the screen and summoned a sheet of holo-paper. Within seconds, he’d folded it into an animal shape.

  The barest trickle of fizz dripped into my brain, telling me what he’d just folded. “Long-wattled umbrella bird,” I said to Meticulous. “Earth One Hundred Twenty-Five.”

  “So your fizz isn’t completely gone after all,” he said. “Good. You’ll need it.”

  Just like the portal paper, the bird origami ballooned into a doorway between Earths. The other Mes in the limo went silent as Prez stepped through it, disappearing from our universe like he’d never been there at all. After a few moments, he came back, a triumphant smile on his face. “We’ve got control of the Rip! Mes, this is your ticket home!”

  Cowboy yee-hawed as the Mes high-fived each other.

  Prez looked down on us with a big thumbs-up. “You two have done a great job, and I’m sorry again that we had to do it this way. We want to run a few more tests before we get you out, so just hang in there a little longer. We’ll get back to you in a sniffy.”

  “You mean ‘in a jiffy,’ you prat!” Meticulous yelled up to him. But the limo had already flown out of hearing range.

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “Why did they need to steal our fizz to do this?”

  Meticulous kept his eyes fixed on the limo, like it might do something any second. “What do you mean, our fizz?”

  “Admit it. You being able to fizz explains a lot.”

  Meticulous tore his eyes from the limo to glare at me. “And just what do you mean by that?!”

  “For starters, how you’re way too competent at everything,” I said. “It makes sense that you’ve had a boost all this time.”

  “I’ve trained hard all my life to get the skills I have! I’m not some cheater like you. Or like Prez!”

  “I still don’t even understand what Prez has done.”

  Meticulous shook his head. “So much potential, wasted on an inferior brain. With your fizz powering his advanced MeMinder, Prez is basically wearing a fully functioning origami drive on his wrist. That makes him the most powerful person in the multiverse.”

  As that sank in, Meticulous looked back up to the limo. “Anytime now,” he muttered.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t think I’d let myself become a prisoner without a backup plan, did you?”

  The limo shot upward as if yanked by a bungee cord.

  “Yes!” said Meticulous.

  “You did that?” The answer to my own question hit me. “You hacked the limo when you were pretending to watch memes!”

  Meticulous yawned. “I simply made a few suggestions to the navigation system.”

  “So would you say you were fizzing the hacking skills of Troll Me or Motor Me?”

  “I wasn’t fizzing anyone but me! And by the way, brace yourself.”

  Before I could ask what he meant, the energy field in the origami drive snuffed out and we both fell butt-first down to the platform below.

  “You knew the drive would turn off?” I said, getting to my feet.

  “Juvenile Hall’s controls are out of range,” he said.

  “You really planned this to the letter.”

  “Naturally,” he said, dusting himself off. “I’m meticulous.”

  “So what’s the next part of your plan?” I said.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” said Meticulous. “You’ve got a sheet of portal paper ready to go.”

  “No I don’t. Your portal paper got trashed.”

  “I didn’t say my portal paper,” he said. “Look at your trousers.”

  The front pocket of my jeans glowed. Once I got over the shock of wearing a pair of radioactive pants, I remembered how I’d shoved the unfolded ouroboros there when I changed clothes. I pried the pocket open with a finger, and green light shot out, practically burning my eyes.

  “That note was written on portal paper,” he said. “The origami drive must have charged it up.”

  After reaching into my pocket with the slow and steady hand of a bomb defuser, I teased the crumpled paper into the open air. Meticulous held out his hand like he expected me to give it to him. I pretended not to notice as I smoothed out the wrinkles.

  “Hand it over,” said Meticulous. “I’ll fold the portal to Earth One.”

  I took a step back. “I’m not going to Earth One!”

  “I’m not going to unicorn world!”

  “Well, I have to find my friends!”

  “I have to find my equipment!” he said.

  Just then, the limo stopped in midair, wobbled for a moment, and pointed downward to fly straight at us. “Come on, guys!” Prez shouted through the limo’s speakers. “Let’s talk this out!”

  Meticulous gave the oncoming car what I figured must have been Earth One’s rudest hand gesture. With him distracted, I started speed-folding the paper into a unicorn. It wasn’t my finest work, especially once Meticulous got wise to me and tried to snatch the paper away. From that point on, I had to fold while playing keep-away from him.

  I’d managed to finish most of the body and had just started on the horn when Meticulous got a solid grip on the unicorn butt. Holding its horn, I pulled harder than I should have and the paper ripped in half.

  Green energy flew everywhere, knocking us backward. But here’s the weirdest part: we never landed. Instead of hitting the ground, we kept falling through whatever trapdoor the blast had opened in the multiverse.

  Where we’d end up was anybody’s guess.

  Kentucky Fried Griffon cooks the choicest cuts of breasts, legs, and wings with a blend of seven secret herbs and spices to produce a magical taste sensation that’s finger-claw-and-hoof-lickin’ good.

  Or so I learned from the tiny winged fairy shouting a sales pitch outside the fast-food joint.

  On my Earth, a Kentucky Fried Chicken stood on this spot. On Earth One, it was a British-ified Kentucky Fried Fish and Chips. But neither of those versions featured a little person with butterfly wings hawking the menu in a screechy voice.

  I had an ongoing debate with Mom and Dad about how Frodo Baggins, Conan the Barbarian, and other characters from medieval-fantasy books and movies would get by in the modern world. The Earth where the portal paper had sent us was a case study in that very question. And then some.

  Magic was real here, but it had kept up with the times. Along the cobblestone streets of downtown, a bearded wizard bought cross-trainers from an elf cobbler. A family of ogres hauled a squeaky wooden cart filled with back-to-school-sale deals. A genie picked up a three-headed orange tabby cat from a grooming salon. A bunch of panting M
inotaurs in Camp Gladiator shirts ordered smoothies at a juice stand. It was as if a bunch of characters in a Dungeons & Dragons adventure had bailed on their quest and gone shopping.

  All these beings had embraced another important part of modern life: screen addiction. They carried crystal balls and wouldn’t stop looking at them as they messaged people, checked social media, took selfies, and watched viral visions. The glass spheres kept them so distracted that no one seemed to notice how Meticulous and I looked alike. They seemed just as oblivious to the Rip overhead. The hole in the multiverse was calmer on this Earth, but still hard to miss. Maybe in a world where packs of flying monkeys flew overhead on a regular basis, a glowing green tear in the sky was no big deal.

  Meticulous refused to take in any of these sights and sounds. Since we’d arrived, he’d just been sitting on the curb beside me, cradling his head in his hands (though careful not to muss his hair). “Magic can’t be real,” he kept muttering to himself. “It can’t be!”

  “Maybe it’s super-science,” I said as a pack of fish people walked by with yoga mats rolled up under their shoulders.

  “My entire worldview has been shattered!” said Meticulous. “Why did you drag us here?”

  In the distance, construction worker giants in hard hats put together a new skyscraper as if they were playing Legos. “I have a feeling Motor and the others are here,” I said. “Maybe None of Me sent the note. Maybe he’s some sort of dark wizard after all, and this is his Earth. He’s probably captured them. Maybe he’s been pumping them for info on you and me.”

  Meticulous dodged a hunk of Pegasus poop that dropped from overhead. “If that’s the case, then you chose to fall into a completely obvious trap. And all for the sake of a hunch rather than listening to me! You could have taken me to Earth One, where I have work to finish!”

  “Things were down to the wire! I hadn’t even finished folding the origami key before you got all grabby!”

  “Need I remind you that you’re the one who ripped the portal paper? It’s a bloody miracle we even made it here. Our one chance to get to my Earth and you blew it!”

  “I don’t even see the point of going to Earth One if you haven’t finished this Stitch thing. If it’s even real.”

  “The Stitch is very much real! And it certainly won’t get finished while we’re wasting our time here!” He waved his hands at a teenage vampire operating a sno-cone stand across the street, like she’d done something wrong.

  “You expect too much out of Mes!” I said. “We can’t all be perfect like you!”

  “For once you’ve said something that makes sense!” said Meticulous.

  All of a sudden, a glowing green M sliced open the air between us. It wasn’t just any M either.

  “The Me Corp. logo?” said Meticulous.

  The M expanded into a portal and a fairy flew through it. He carried a shiny new crystal ball in a clear case emblazoned with another stylized M. Ignoring us, the fairy flapped the package over to a shop called Potion Notions across the street.

  Slack-jawed with the same exact amount of slack, Meticulous and I watched the portal disappear into nothing.

  “There’s a Me Corp. here?” I said.

  Meticulous poked at the residue of green energy still clinging to the air. “And it looks like they use some of the most advanced magic around. I’d expect no less from the Me Corp. brand.”

  “If Me Corp. can make portals to deliver stuff, maybe they can make a portal to get us to Earth One!” I said.

  Meticulous pointed to a tower that rose above everything else on the skyline. Massive thorn-encrusted vines covered the building from top to bottom, as if the giant in “Jack and the Beanstalk” worked a nine-to-five office job there.

  “That’s got to be Me Corp.,” he said. “Me Corps. on every Earth are always in the tallest buildings in any given skyline.”

  “I wonder how it got Sleeping Beautied,” I said.

  “What are you on about?” asked Meticulous.

  “You know, the curse in ‘Sleeping Beauty’? The evil fairy makes a barrier of plants to keep out the prince?”

  Meticulous got to his feet. “My Earth’s version of ‘Sleeping Beauty’ involves the princess falling asleep after pulling an all-nighter to prep for her medical school entrance exam the next day. She winds up rescuing herself and acing the test.”

  We headed for the tower, nobody giving either of us a second glance. On the way, we passed a display of crystal balls in a Me Corp. shop window. They all showed a familiar face: Me. Or rather, a heroic, fantasy Me. He wore chain mail with a sword on his side and thick metal boots and gloves. When I leaned in for a closer look, a vision bloomed inside my head. It played out like the opening-credits montage of a TV show, images of the Me sharpening his sword, strapping on armor, and talking his way out of a traffic ticket from a hobbit cop.

  Meticulous slapped his forehead. “Get out of my brain! Haven’t they heard of privacy laws here?!”

  A narrator spoke. “You’re experiencing a vision of The Chosen One, everyone’s favorite reality show. Tonight, an episode like none other. Two days ago, the Chosen One was seen entering Me Corp. Tower, the home and office of the company’s CEO, that mysterious billionaire, the Dark Lord himself.”

  The vision showed a mug shot of None of Me, the familiar hood covering his face. Then it switched back to the Warrior Me marching up to the thorn-covered tower.

  “Hold up,” I said. “How are there two Mes here?”

  “Shush!” said Meticulous. “Talking during a show is punishable with jail time on most Earths.”

  “Though consumers’ love of Me Corp. products hasn’t slackened,” the announcer continued, “many have questioned the Dark Lord’s connection to the dangerous green storms originating from the tear that has appeared over our skies. Unconfirmed reports have also circulated that Me Corp. may be deliberately cursing its products. Refusing comment, the Dark Lord has locked himself away in Me Corp. Tower. Now his brother, the Chosen One, has set out to find answers. As the two prepare to face off in an epic family battle, the world waits, breathless to see which of them survives.”

  “His brother?!” I said.

  Meticulous patted his eyebrows. “Me twins. That’s new.”

  The vision switched to a commercial break, and yet another Me appeared in my mind: Motor Me. I couldn’t believe it. My long-lost friend looked very much alive as he sat at an old wooden table surrounded by books and flasks full of bubbling potions. With an awkward smile, Motor raised his hand and shot a miniature display of fireworks from his fingers. Then he sang a jingle. In rhyme:

  “Polymagic Vocational Institute.

  It’s magic! It’s practical! And it’s a real hoot!”

  The image freeze-framed on Motor giving the camera the same painful grin I reserved for pictures and videos I didn’t want to be in.

  An announcer’s voice took over:

  “Classes available starting today.

  Practical magic just a few blocks away!

  Take Magic Forest Freeway and exit Mount Dread.

  A few steps from there and you’ll reach our homestead!”

  The vision cleared.

  Meticulous shook his head. “This better not be one of those Earths where everybody rhymes when they talk! The only thing mankier than that are Earths where they only speak pig Latin!”

  “The candy bar wrappers weren’t a fluke!” I said. “He’s here after all! And maybe the others too! We’ve gotta go to that school.”

  “I suppose he may have information to help us get off this rubbish Earth.” Meticulous nodded. “I will allow this.”

  “Thanks, Your Majesty. I’m so grateful.”

  Not even Meticulous’s attitude could get to me now. I was about to get my best friend back.

  But first, I had to break into a magic school.
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  When we’d set off for a real-life magic school, I’d been expecting something as magnificent as Hogwarts Castle or as mysterious as Doctor Strange’s Sanctum Sanctorum. But the multiverse let me down yet again: the Polymagic Vocational Institute turned out to be housed in the same old stupid County Youth Development building on my Earth, and Me HQ on Earth Zero. Would I never get away from this place?

  “Sure, it’s feeling a little repetitive,” said Meticulous, leading me across the common yard to a small window on the rear wall. “But I noticed that the lock on this bathroom window was dodgy on both Earth Ninety-Nine and Earth Zero.”

  “How would you notice something like that?!” I asked.

  “I’m meticulous. And I’d be willing to bet the lock is compromised on this Earth too.”

  He bonked his fist on the latch, and the window popped open.

  “This is not a good deed!” warned the MeMinder X as we climbed into the school.

  We tiptoed across the room and opened the door. I held out hope that the school might be magically bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. No such luck. Even with class in session and no students around, the main hallway felt more cramped than the one at Youth Development back home. The walls were stacked to capacity with racks of filthy potion flasks, stinky cauldrons, piles of mud-drenched flying carpets, and streaky magic mirrors.

  “It’s like a flea market for down-and-out wizards,” said Meticulous as we stepped out of the bathroom.

  I almost laughed, until I reminded myself that I wasn’t supposed to enjoy Meticulous’s jokes.

  A pair of giant floating lips appeared out of thin air and shushed us. Startled, I bumped into a passing cart full of swords sticking out of large stones. The goblin pushing the cart smirked at me and pointed to a sign on the wall as he moved along. Final Exam Day, read the sign. Quiet, Please!

  “This is good,” whispered Meticulous. “Everyone will be so anxious about their tests, they won’t pay us any mind.”