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Finally, after an action-packed day full of explorations and almost 60 km of riding I got on my iron horse one last time to make the 45 minute trek home along Toronto's lakefront. Summer in Toronto is amazing; I had cycled from secluded nature areas, through a Victorian-era cemetery to a Latin festival, enjoyed the waterfront and caught two more free concerts in or near Harbourfront. There is so much going on in this city in the summer and the bicycle is the ideal way to explore it. Cricket stores near me
Author's Note: The characters in this story are trained professionals. They have a great deal of experience at flying on vacuum cleaners, creating hot dogs by magical means, or scheming to achieve eternal life and total world domination. Please, do not try these things at home.
Supplementary Note: Adults, don't worry. This book is rated G and perfectly suitable for children of all ages. Children, don't worry. If your parents try to sneak the book away so that they can read it themselves, you can always hide it under the floorboards of a haunted, abandoned mansion with rhinoceros guards in pink polka-dot bathing suits to prevent anyone from taking it. Or failing that, it's small enough to go under your pillow.
Supplementary Supplement: This book has been translated from American English into British English. From there it was translated into English English, and then went through a brief stint in Swedish, just for a change of pace. After that, it was translated back into American English with possible lapses, and currently exists as the original draft that you hold in your hands.
Supplement to the Supplementary Supplement: This is a work of fiction. However, all characters are probably disturbingly similar to characters you've seen in other places. Try not to be alarmed. After all, even serious characters need a vacation.
PS: Let's get on with the story already, shall we?
The world is full of miracles. When you buy a cinema hot dog and it's actually flexible, that is a miracle. When you tell the telemarketer that you're not interested, and he says, oh, okay, sorry to bother you, that's a miracle. When you get a letter in the mailbox saying you may have won a new car, that's just junk mail, we don't care about that right now.
On the steps of number 23232323.32 Privy drive, Somewhere in England, (land of Shakespeare, British accents, and saying crisps when you mean chips) a baby left in an asparagus crate on a doorstep screamed and screamed. His survival was another such miracle, given how many people wanted him dead. Or at least severely hurt. The asparagus seller probably would have settled for getting his crate back, since all of his little asparaguses were currently rolling about helplessly on the floor. But the incredibly evil bad guy planning to take over the world definitely wanted him dead. It was in his job description.
And so, this miracle baby lay in his asparagus box, wailing at an unjust world that really didn't care all that much. His speech, composed of such eloquent words as "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" meant, in baby talk, "What do you mean I have to wait ten years before I'm the star of this book? I'm here, the readers are reading! I want fame, I want fortune, I want to see my lawyer, I want my own brand of breakfast cereal, I want..."
Fortunately for everyone concerned, ten years flew by in the space of a few lines, as the book propelled forwards to chapter one. Since he was the hero of the novel, the author couldn't drop an anvil on the whiny brat, much as she wanted to.
Chapter 1:
A PILE OF LETTERS
In a house so ordinary that it fairly screamed not to be noticed, from the beige carpet that went with everything (including stains) to the Beware of Rabid Hamster sign that kept out the salesmen, there lived a family. It was a perfectly ordinary family, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Dorky, their son, Dumpy, and their gallant yet ill-treated household slave.
Oh, Henry Potty preferred calling himself a freedom-inhibited individual, but the name didn't change the situation as much as he'd hoped. Even subscribing to Menial Drudges United Newsletter did little to relieve his suffering. Still, Henry smiled through the abuse as Dumpy Dorky tried to pull his ears off and experimented on Henry with his sinister mold growing kit. For Henry knew that he was special. You see, he had...a destiny.
Henry had known this ever since he stumbled across the note that had been left beside his basket. All of the best heroes have been abandoned in baskets, starting with Breadbasket Fred, who went on to start a national chain of French fry restaurants. In any case, the letter caught Henry's attention thanks to the six-inch letters on top that said, "Never, under any circumstances allow Henry Potty to read this letter." His cousin had left it in Henry's room, less from a sense of destiny and more from the fact that he still hadn't learned to read. He was only twelve, after all.