His Name is Adversary...

...ignorant, unknowing humans call him Bryan. I call him Sexypants (when I'm not calling him Adversary).

I must destroy him. At put-put golf.

Last Saturday, we met for a second time at Novelty Golf and Games; a local put-put course that is, like, waaaay better than your crummy put-put joint.

Like this, only with more Frankensteins and less dicks.

The first time we met here for battle, the force of our combined putting furies colliding against each other created a shockwave that knocked out all electrical equipment in a 3-mile radius. To this day, birds will not sing within the area of Novelty Golf and Games.

Strangely however, after the smoke cleared and the bodies were cleared away, the resulting score was a tie. A FUCKING TIE. We each silently swore to destroy the other come our next meeting upon this blood-stained course.

Our next meeting was last Saturday. I arrived to find Bryan waiting for me, screaming endlessly while an aura of pure power surrounded him. His hair had turned bleach-blond and was standing up off his head in jagged, 3-foot tall spikes. He was going super saiyan like in that show Full House. Not to be outdone, I began to carve ancient forbidden symbols into my wrists, symbols that would summon the long-dead daemons of put-put golf. Upon sight of these unfathomable beings, I went mad. Mad with PUT-PUT POWER.

Bryan surging with pure force, his massive pecs exploding from his now-shredded shirt and me with sacrificial blood flowing down my arms, black smoke emitting from the holes where my eyes used to be - this is how we began.

To say that we used our powers irresponsibly would be a gross understatement. There were no survivors. Car alarms are still going off in China. Chicago was put into a state of martial law. This time next year, president Obama will be in Chicago to put flowers by the crater that used to be Novelty Golf and Games.

Despite the catastrophe created by the negligent misuse of our put-put powers, the greatest tragedy is that IT WAS ANOTHER FUCKING TIE.

"THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE! Wait, a tie? Really? Fuck it."

Seriously. Two games. Two ties. Mark my words: when they rebuild Novelty Golf and Games, we will be there. And next time, a victor will stand and a loser shall fall. Even if we have to wipe this city off the fucking map.


Working on getting a driver's license again. Ignore the title, it wasn't taken away do to some horrible atrocity on my part, it just expired and I haven't needed/bothered to renew it. Problem is, my unique set of circumstances have merged to create the most annoying bullshit set of hoops to jump through in DMV history.

-License needs to be renewed, so I have to take all the test.
-My license is from Indiana, obtained before I moved to Chicago.
-Since it's out-of-state, I need my birth certificate.
-I don't have my birth certificate.
-My parents can't find my birth certificate.
-I have to contact the hospital where I was born/dumpster where I was found to request an official copy of the certificate.
-To provide me with a copy of the birth certificate, they need a copy of a picture ID, ten bucks, the names of my parents, and my contact info.
-This entire transaction will be done via snail mail.
-I'm adopted and don't know if the birth certificate was ever changed to reflect that.
-If it wasn't, I don't know my birth mother's maiden name, which I'm told they will need.

If I manage to get all this information and get my birth certificate, I'll still have to take a test. If it's a written test - fine, I can study for that. If there's a driving test however...I haven't piloted an automobile in well over a year, so things can get interesting.

[Progress Report]

I literally - and I mean literally, as in "while I was composing this" - just got a email from the printer saying that the first short run of Wayward 2 is on the way. So...that's something, yeah?