Mike's an average guy literally cursed with an average life. But suddenly he's being taken on a journey through epicness itself...that's not a word. Word or not, it describes stuff that happens perfectly and now he must strive for mediocrity in an epic world full of epic adventures and epic characters...Epic.
People underestimate monotony really. I should know as I've strived toward it every moment of my last nine years. Trying to become a plain, unassuming member of society. I didn't want to at first, but really it isn't so bad.
I'm writing because really people should know that. As for me, well, I am destined to die in some sort of movie-worthy way. Explosions and pistols and maybe mountains of drugs. Maybe I'll be the next Scarface...that would certainly be epic enough. However, the take away from this is that I tried. I really tried to not have it happen. I have cautiously whittled out a bland existence and strived for mediocrity so freaking hard. So hard, like, you don't even know. Because I don't want to die.
Just writing this down is risky. There's a chance that someone could find it while I'm still alive and think; "This tale is too epic not to be published" and then they go and find an agent which will inescapably lead to my death. I'm not being melodramatic. I will cease to be. So if you're reading this while Mike C. Louger is still alive, you should totally avoid publishing it. I cannot stress that enough, you could kill me and then where would you be?
Probably alive and rich from royalties while I'm dead.
This doesn't make sense. I guess I should start from the beginning.
So a long time ago, the universe was in an extremely hot and dense state…
Just kidding, not that beginning.
Alright this starts when I was thirteen. Right off the bat, something you should know about me is that I like words. Very specific words will burrow into my brain and I will latch onto them like a three-toed sloth to its mother's back. They do that, right? I don't know much about sloths or babies or the combination thereof.
Anyway, back then it was the word 'epic'.
Everything was epic.
Your shirt? Epic. That Bagel Bite? Epic. Saved By The Bell? Epic.
My friend Joseph and I were walking down the hall when I turned the corner and flat-out ran into Jessica Conolly. Jessica was going through her Wiccan phase and was dressed all in black and carrying a crapload of books whose titles had words like "Wiccan of the Modern World", and "Simple Spells For Everyday Use" and "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone".
Needless to say she went down hard and books and papers went raining across the hall. You had to be there, but it was vintage slapstick, and I am a patron of the classic arts. Joe and I were pretty much rolling on the ground laughing because it would've been horrible not to.
"So, epic." I said between fits and shakes.
"Beyond." Joe confirmed.
Jessica stood up and began grabbing her books. She was not amused. In fact, one might say she was the opposite of amused. zmused or something.
"Restollerambin." She growled as she pointed an accusing finger at me.
"Did you just curse him?" Joe said stifling his laughter.
"O, man that's not epic." I said with a frown.
"Not cool." Joe agreed.
"You know what else won't be epic?" She hissed standing close to me. "Your life. Because the moment you achieve anything truly epic? The greatest moment of your life will be the last moment you spend on earth. You will die! I curse you."
"That's a bit extreme." Joe said with a grin.
"You know what else is extreme?" She threw his words back at him. She was on curse train, next stop, Curse Town. "Cancer. Cancer is incredibly extreme and you will die of it!"
And with that she was gone.
Now, I'm not going to say that I believe in curses thrown around by thirteen year old girls and we totally didn't.
Until two weeks later…BAM!
Joe got hit by a bus.
Don't feel too bad for him. I'm sure he would've preferred that over cancer, but spooky, right?!
Anyway that's how all this got started. I totally tried to get her to undo the curse, but she had moved away or something. Just imagine some hackneyed plot device to keep this story going. This isn't supposed to be all about how I got the curse, alright? It's real. Work with me.
And this is why I have to talk about Catherine...