Chapter II: Just as bad as the DMV

I don't know why, but, for some reason, when girls smile at me, they're never thinking, "hey, hot stuff." It's usually more along the lines of, "That'll be the last time he moves my laundry basket."

This morning started with burnt toast and weak coffee. Sid sat across the kitchen table from me. She didn't get involved in the "the world sucks" rant, she just sat there and stirred her cocoa. Then, she looked up, and smiled.

It wasn't an evil smirk; it had all the elements of a pleasant smile... but you could tell that it was still evil.

"Hey, Brad, you doing anything this morning?"
"...no, why?"
"You do know you have to fill out a handful of forms at City Hall, right?"

I'm pretty sure my heart stopped beating. City Hall is the most inconvenient place in all of Magic City.

"I do?"
"Yup. Y'do," she said, quietly. "Have fun!" she suddenly, cheerfully squeaked.



After an hour and a half of traffic circle hell, I got down to the actual building. I park my car, and meander inside.

It's actually really nice inside. Marble floors; mahogony counters... it's beautiful.

So I walk up to the front desk -- a monstrosity of mohogany carvings, moldings, and decorations, with the Magic City seal sitting right in the middle.

"Hi, my name's Brad Leighton, and, uh, I have to fill out a change of adress form... and they said to come here, instead of the Post Office... and I also have to--"
"That's not a problem. We'll do one form at a time," explained the woman behind the counter. "Now, where do you live, here in Magic City?"
"Uh... 42 Kide-Taivas Avenue."

She giggled. "No, really. Where do you--"
"That's my address."

She looked both ways, before leaning over the counter. "Have you ever, y'know..."
"Have I ever what?"
"...Have you ever seen the Death Lazer of Doom?"

I stared at her. "I'm sorry, I don't..." I honestly didn't quite understand what it was she was getting at, but it had something to do with a Lazer.

"Have you ever read the Police Report?" she finally asked me.
"...No."
"C'mon, I'll show you."
"Wait, wouldn't it be here, with the files?"

She giggled again. "No. We framed it. It's in the lunchroom."



After Dr. Délatuer had threatened some local teens, (something to the effect of "get off my lawn before I blast you with my Death Lazer of Doom"), they called the police. When the police show up, one's like, "So, what's with this 'Death Lazer of Doom' we keep hearing about?" And the other asks, "is that pointy thing sticking out of the garage roof the Death Lazer?"

Which it wasn't. Because the "pointy thing sticking out of the garage roof" was actually the garage door opener. The Death Lazer was in the attic.

"So, what do you need a Death Lazer for?"
"Well, how do you dry your sweaters?"
"So, it's not for world domination?"
"I'm sure it could be used for that..."



Yeah. Every one at City Hall was laughing at me... until I told them that Alex Normandy was my landlord.

Then they started laughing at "Mr. Normandy."

Alex is going to kill me later. I'm sure of it.