Rick stared at his hand, the black ink ring. "Oh this. No you don't understand, I was leaning back on the desk…"
"Shhh…" The man held a boney finger in front of his mouth,
"No time fer silly chatter. Look 'ere now." He crept in close, the stench of brimstone followed, "The Pockyclypse is set fer nine weeks from this 'ere day. Yer ta get sent back to earth as Augustus
Tweezlemeyer, and under that code name no one will suspect yer the..er..antiwhatzits, you know the destroyer." Rick was quiet.
"Then in nine weeks when yer ready, the whole bleedin' pockyclypse.."
"Apocalypse."
"Yeah, pockyclypse, dats what I said, it'll take place. But ya gotta go today udderwise we gots ta wait fer another few eons fer da perfect astrological alignment."
Rick sat dazed. Not just dazed at what had transpired, but also at the fact that the little shifty fellow had managed to utter two complex words like 'astrological' and 'alignment'. He decided not to bring up the fact that he was not the man this little fellow was looking for. Instead, he nodded slowly.
"Right.." the big jaw sputtered, "I'll tell ol' scratch it's a go, eh?"
"You do that." Rick blinked.
The man nodded profusely, giggled, then turned and started to wade his way back through the crowd. The smell of brimstone, that
Rick was now barely used to, began to drift away. He pushed himself off the desk and turned to face the bright, white wall with the bright, white door. A few minutes later, after Rick had played the scene with the little man out in his head, the bright, white door opened and the old man emerged.
"You will be pleased to hear Mr. Dawson, that we will be able to return you to your body only moments after you were taken."
Rick smiled now, "Great, thank you very much."
"It is you who should be thanked Mr. Dawson, for being so understanding in this matter." The old man raised his young, old hand, "Bye now, enjoy your milkshake." He snapped his fingers and
Rick faded out of sight. The old man returned to his chair. "Next!"
A large ominous figure stalked up to the desk from out of the crowd. The old man peered up. A tall pale man dressed in black stood before him. The 90's sure produced strange soul's. Dangling from his neck on a thick dark chain was a large, black ring.
"Excuse me," the figure spoke, "have you seen a short man with big yellow eyes, and a large jaw?" The deep voice straightened the old man's curly hair.
"Nope, sorry can't say that I have." The old man shrugged.
The dark figure sighed.
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