Casual Heroing

Original Length: 965 words.

Post Revision Length: 1101 words.

“See, Officer Lucinda, I find clerks rather hellish in nature. I mean, all their little gestures, the lingo they use to clearly make you confused – I mean, no one knows what module 57B is, don’t be smug about it, come on. And that’s why I imagine that Hell is just a huge post office with infinite floors, where clerks send you from one place to another, and you can never file your application to Heaven, forever damned to this eternal torment of bureaucracy.”

Lucinda is looking at me as if I was a madman.

I mean, she is not that far off, is she? Plus, does she even know what ‘hell’ is? Isn’t that a very human concept? But doesn’t every culture have its own version of hell? Too many questions. I take a glimpse at the curve her robe makes on the chest area; now I’m happier, and my mind reached a truly zen state. In fact, who needs philosophical questions when you have that in front of you? Also, she looks like someone who’s packing in the caboose department too. What a catch, two for the price of one hot Elf.

Aren’t I lucky?

I got here through a huge dimensional shenanigan or something, I have what could be a spellbook of mass destruction, and here I am, flirting with the cutest officer of the Watch. I’m having a field day!

“Mr. Luciani, can we please get back to the interview? Do you even want to go out and find a job?”

“I mean, on the one hand, sure. I like baking. On the other, it would mean I’d have to go through the queue, and I’d have to leave the company of the most beautiful officer in the city.”

“Mr. Luciani—” she starts with an exasperated tone.

“Call me Joey, please,” I smile warmly.

“Do you plan on hurting anyone in the city, Joey?” she asks with an angry frown.

“Only if they are your boyfriend, Officer.”

Green.

“And even in that case, only their feelings, by stealing you away.”

Green.

Officer Lucinda has probably never had to face a cute bag of tricks like me. I might be a little overboard and overly cheesy, for sure, but this approach has worked wonders before! And if I can get a date with the cutest Elf girl, I swear, God, I swear to you – and on you – that I will stop hating this race!

“Do you carry any items that could be potentially dangerous?”

Uh-oh.

She sees me hesitating, and for the first time, she raises an eyebrow in a very inquisitive manner.

Oh my, that really makes my heart flutter.

“Well…” I start, trying to think of a good comeback. But she’s looking at me with those deep green eyes, and this time, I have nothing ready!

What? You thought I was coming up with everything on the spot? Tsk, this takes preparation. I’m used to rehearsing conversations aloud while baking or with my mom. You don’t get smooth responses like mine just on the spur of the moment.

“So, Joey, what are you hiding?”

This time, she smiles. She’s clearly happy to have caught me with something. And, let me tell you, I’m dying from how cute she looks with that impish grin. I wish I could make her a pie and bring it to her when she’s overworked; then I would look at the sweet and grateful expression while I drop off the snack, give her a warm smile, a little peck on the lips, and go back to the bakery.

“I’ll repeat myself,” she says with her beautiful evil smile, “what are you hiding?”

“Well, not my crush on you, that’s clear.”

Green.

That was good improv, I must give it to me.

She looks a bit troubled by my revelation, but that’s exactly what I want. She will think about me, that’s for sure. And I do intend to come back here as soon as possible. Not to go to jail, obviously—probably.

“So, what is it?” she rests a hand on her wand.

Can’t lie to my future wife, can I? Especially if she wants to fry me to death.

“This bad boy here,” I slap the cover of the book, “might be choke-full of dangerous protection spells that don’t trigger when I touch it, but that has so far eliminated every single life form that came in contact with it.”

“Did you get that from a Dungeon?” she raises an eyebrow after seeing that the truth stone flashed green.

“I think so? I mean, I’m not sure what you would classify as a Dungeon, but I would probably call it so.”

The truth stone flashes green, even if lighter than before. Apparently, not being sure of something makes for unclear answers.

“Well, you will need to bring the spellbook to a certified [Enchanter] and submit a form—”

“No, no, no. I’m not doing any forms. Cuff me, right now.”

I volunteer my wrists toward Lucinda.

“It’s a simple form, literally one page of—”

“Cuffs, please! No forms! PLEASE!”

She is speechless. How a person can be so scared of bureaucracy is probably beyond her. But I value my time and my life. I’d rather do a month in prison and have a new set of stories to tell on my next date than write down things on a stupid form. Things that I know I would get wrong.

And if you think I’m paranoid, please do consider that you are talking to a man who just got catapulted in a new dimension with a cursed spellbook and who basically got arrested in the first ten minutes of his adventure.

Just saying.

“If that spellbook is any good,” Officer Lucinda said while rubbing her forehead, “you might think about becoming an adventurer. With some basic spells, you could make some coins and then—”

“Nope. Not interested. The only thing I’ll risk my life with is diabetes from eating sweets for the next fifty years of my life, thank-you-very-much.”

“You might have a good spellbook on your hands, and you are not interested in adventuring? What were you doing in a Dungeon, then? And aren’t you interested in testing your magical talent? I could do it even here and now.”

Now that she’s talking magic, her eyes are blazing.

“Do you need to hold my hand to test my talent?” I ask, curious.

“Not really, you can simply stay there, and I can fetch a stone that—”

“Not interested then,” I say with a smile.