We have – Merlin!
“Well, today’s the BIG DAY! You’re off to see The Wizard!” piped Kwiang’o Nattitude the receptionist – with a wink.
“Yeah. Right!” Victoria said with a accent of a true skeptic, she already accessing this was going to be a psychological test of some kind that she must pass before she becomes a BAD agent. She was well-prepared. Reading a million coats of arms had taken her to a place very few have gone. How important people want to be seen, and remembered, is utterly strange. Their arms are living eulogies and summation of their being.
“Am I going to be given a Rorschach Test?” Victoria inquired, she fearing this would be the case and the end of her career, because all she sees is coats of arms in the ink blotches. She had spent days clearing her mind so the Wizard can get to her deep subconcoceince and look for Thought Disoders. Already she felt – violated!
“I hope he doesn’t see that?” Victoria said aloud.
“See what?” Kwiango asked, feigning ignorance, because she knew The Test began days ago.
“Nothing.” Victoria replied as she studied Kwiango’s Zimbabwe outfit. She understood that eccentrics make the best agents because they not only think outside the box, they dwell there. They can never be – put in a box! But, apparently the Wizard was going to do just that, and Victoria already hated him. Will this show?
“You can go in, now!”
Victoria put her hand on the doorknob that looked like the head of a Gargoyle, and, let out a yelp, jumping back a few feet, when a small speaker said;
Kwiango put her hand to her mouth to hide her grin and muffle her tittering.
Entering the darkened room that had a suspended ball that cast stars on the wall, Victoria let out a tisk from the corner of her mouth. There was a portely overdone gentleman in a wizard oufit who looked like Santa Claus working the graveyard shift. He was brushing crumbs off the Amercan flag he war like a bib.
“Have a seat!” the Wizard said. “I’m just finishing up lunch. Did you have a good lunch?”
“No. I was told not to take a lunch before my appointment.”
“Who told you that? That person was mistaken. Please, give me her/his name.”
Victoria watched the Wizard pick up a pencil with stars all over it, and had it poised to write on a piece of paper with faint fairies dancing on it. Sencing a trap, Victoria lied.
“I forget who told me!”
“Oh, really! You have a faulty memory?”
“I think so!”
“Has – faulty – memory!” the Wizard said aloud as he wrote.
“Please, have a seat! Did I already say that?”
“If you says so!” Victoria looked down at the white unicorn that took up most of the chair she was bid to sit in.
“There’s a unicorn in that chair!”
“Indeed there is. Do you like unicorns?”
“Sure. Who doesn’t – I guess!”
“You can put Zepheron in your lap to make more room.”
“Would you like to pet Zepheron?”
“No!” Victoria said without hesitation.
“Hmm! Applicant – has – become – attached – to -Zepheron!” the Wizard wrote.
Victoria started to raise her hand in protest, when she felt eyes upon her. Looking in the conrer, there sat the most mystical human being she ever saw. She was staring holes right through her. She didn’t blink.
‘Oh! That’s my assistant, Chelsea Sunrise.
Victoria let go a smile.
“Would her middle name be ‘Morning’?”
“Excuse me!” the wizard said gruffly. “That was rather rude. Her middle name is Murial. Do you always assume to know what peoples names are?”
“Well, no! But, there is this song by Judy Collins. Have you heard it?”
“I’ll be asking the question around here. Claims-she-can-read-minds. Now, apologize to Ms. Sunrise!”
“Sorry! Can I ask what she is doing?”
“That’s question No.2! Does – not- follow- instructions. If you must know, she is conduction an Aura Reading. Your aura is being read. She is using the crayloas to fill in your chart. Show her what you got so far, Chelsea.”
“I never agreed to an Aura Reading. Is this necessary?”
“Question No.3! All agents are required to take a Aura Test twice a year, to chack for hidden agendas. Chelsea has a knack for spotting bad people out in a crowd – who have evil intentions. The Secret Service borrows her when POTUS comes to England. They have a nickname for her. Want to take a stab at it?
“What did you say?” the Wizard asked. He was clearly agitated. Tink turned her head slowly to the Wizard as if she was a automaton, and made hand gestures, using the Ogham hand-signing.
“Ms. Sunrise said she will be doing the Psychic Reading around here! You do not own her permission to read her. Is that clear?”
Fuck! said Victoria to herself, and Tink put her hand to her mouth – in shock!
“Did you just THINK a dirty word?”
There was a long pregnant silence full of psychic tension. One could hear the theme song from the Twilight Zone. All of a sudden, Victoria spotted it, under a belljar with a light radiating from the base.
“Oh my God!” Victoria gasped, and leaned forward. The wizard moaned when Zepheron hit the floor.
“No! Please! Put that back! cried the Wizard, his whimpering getting a look from Tink, who saw weakness here.
“They’re all here! The Yankee team of 39. You got Ty Cobb whose batting average was 375, with 23 homeruns, 6 SBs, 23 BIs…………
Tink gave the wizard a worried look. Shen knew her master had lost complete control of the interview. A crayon snapped in her hand as a torrent of baseball statistics rained down on them like large hail. They were powerless to stop her as Victoria rotated the Babe Ruth ball in her hand, as if it was The World. Victoria was…………In The Zone!