You ever watch those short-form self-help videos that tell you to write everything down in a journal to help you process your emotions? Yeah… incoming eye-rolls I’m sure. What’s next? They’re going to say that if you tilt your head to one side, hop on one foot, and lick a salt block, you’ll cure your cancer? Trust me. You can’t outdo my cynicism… yet here I am writing this down. I guess I needed to process what had happened to me.
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I suppose, if you happen upon this, I should introduce myself. My name’s Jaqueline McBane, although no one thinks Jacqueline rolls off the tongue very well, so Jacqui it is. I’m twenty-four years old and a hard-working civil servant at one of the most overrated supermarkets called Wal-Get. We sell everything from your mom’s recipe to cheap engagement rings - for when you’re trying to tell your significant other you’re committed, yet really you’re still fantasizing about that ex who left you for someone who actually had a livable income.
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What’s my role? Professional actress and habitual liar… in other words, I work the register. You know when we smile at you and ask you how your day's going while bagging your week’s groceries and the fifty-million other random things you decided you needed, but later find out you can’t afford so we have to return those items back to their proper place? Yeah, you just fell for our greatest performance. In reality, your swift and utter demise is being plotted in the most detailed and gruesome fashion. If given a chance, we will pee in your cornflakes, and I don’t mean that figuratively.
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This was the place where it all started. It was a Saturday afternoon, five hours into my shift with no break. I was already in a bad mood before that freak showed up. I had just dealt with this old hag who still thought checks were the most convenient way to pay for her prunes, spouting off that she couldn’t find where anything was located, and that we raised the prices too high. I apologized for her dementia… I mean poor shopping experience, while I imagined how her future heart attack would strike. I barely had time to regain my composure before I heard someone place more items on my conveyor belt. Why did everyone come to my line? I wasn’t the only one working there that day.
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I pressed the button that moved the conveyor belt without even looking up. A jump rope, an armor set meant for kids - complete with a plastic shield, sword, and helmet - and a bottle of water. Great… a parent buying for their little spawn of evil. I hoped this one didn’t feel the need to tell me how perfect their little demon was. I finally raised my head, ready to put on the facade, but froze in surprise when I looked upon the strange little man in front of me.
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He looked like a magician. Black top hat, black cape with purple lining tied around the neck like a child ties a blanket. A purple bow tie on a white button-up shirt, cloaked by a black suit and tucked into black dress pants. He even had the infamous white gloves. Fantastic. First a constipated, wrinkly old lady, and now a potential sex offender. Which deities had I offended?
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The man beamed the largest smile. “Good day to you, my lady. I would like to purchase these items today.”
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I attempted the most charming voice I could muster. “Good day to you too… kind sir. Going to a kid’s birthday party today?”
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“Oh, no. Nothing like that, my lady. These items are for myself.”
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I couldn’t resist my curiosity. “Yourself? Are you… a part of some larp group or something?”
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His eyes flashed confusion. “Larp?”
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“You know… live-action role-playing. Bunch of people dressing up in costumes, pretending to be knights fighting dragons or something like that. Really nerdy.” I cursed myself at that last remark. I had let the mask slip a bit, but I couldn’t get the image of him running around screaming ‘lightning strike, lightning strike’ out of my head. I tried to backpedal. “Not meaning to call you a nerd or anything, of course.” He seemed unfazed.
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“Never heard of it. Sounds fascinating.”
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“Uh, huh.” At least I dodged that bullet.
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“Actually, my lady. I am purchasing these fine wares today for a valiant quest.” He sounded so sure of himself as he placed his hands on his waist, looked up, and stuck out his chest in dramatic fashion. Perhaps he was a part of some theatrical group instead?
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I tried to maintain my composure, but my uneasiness began to show. “Oh… yeah… a quest. That was totally my next guess.”
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“Pardon me, my lady. Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself.”
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“That’s okay. It’s not necessary.”
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“I insist.” The man flipped his hands in front of himself as he bowed. “I… am Sir Dietrich von Oppenheimer. An honorable knight of Abbalon.”
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He had my interest now. I had to see where this went. “Abbalon?”
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“Yes! My home country. As I said earlier, I am on a valiant quest. A quest to find and defeat once and for all the evil, tyrannical, robot overlord known as… Alfred! He seeks to conquer this world and amass a robot army from it to challenge the universe. Do not fear, though, my lady, for I am a highly trained and skilled knight. I will not fail in delivering swift and final punishment to him.”
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“Wow… that sounds… very valiant.”
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“Indeed, my lady.”
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I started to scan and bag his items as quick as I could manage. “Well, I wish you the best of luck on that. I hope you… uh… stick it to that formidable foe… with your sword thingy. Your total rings up to twenty-three dollars and fifty-six cents today.”
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He continued to smile. “Splendid, just as you are, my lady. I will gladly pay that amount using the common currency of this country, which you refer to as a credit card.”
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“That sounds great.” My acting skills were being put to the test.
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The man named Dietrich whipped out a card from his pants pocket with the same exaggerated energy as his speech. “Such an interesting method of payment. Where I come from, we pay with these small, metal disks we call coins. However, I quite like your country's form of currency better. It is very easy to keep track of my fortune this way.”
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I took his credit card, my fake smile holding onto dear life. “Yep. They sure are great. Credit cards… yay.” I processed the card and printed the receipt. After handing both back to him, I gestured to his bagged items. “Well, you’re all set to go. Thank you for shopping at Wal-Get. Have a wonderful day!” I avoided the line ‘come back and shop with us again’ on purpose. I had no desire to interact with this escaped mental patient again.
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“I will do as you say, my lady! Your beauty and charm are deserving of the highest compliment. Your hair… a magnificent fiery red. Your eyes… infatuating gemstones of emerald. Perhaps, when I have completed my quest, we can meet again? I was recently introduced to the most glorious place dubbed The Siren’s Eye. They serve a delectable beverage called coffee, and they claim to produce said beverage through a means called fair trade, to which there is no better trade. I would be honored to sip upon some of this coffee beverage together and mayhaps get to know one another better?”
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I threw my hands in front of me and shut that crap down. “Boyfriend! I have a boyfriend!”
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Dietrich’s face tensed in shock then drooped in blushing embarrassment. “Oh, my. I am deeply sorry, my lady. Please forgive my rudeness.”
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“It’s okay. You didn’t know, but yeah. I’m taken. Very much taken.”
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“I understand, my lady. I will depart at once, for my shame is great. Farewell!” In one swift motion, he snatched his bags and departed with a power walk, avoiding any more eye contact. I almost felt pity for the poor guy. Key word being ‘almost’. Ultimately, I couldn’t be happier to see him leave. Maybe his great shame would dissuade a future visit.
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I let out a stressed sigh. Well, my day can’t get any stranger than that.Yeah, that one definitely topped the most lunatic Wal-Get customers’ list. What’s next? An actual robot named Alfred showing up?
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What happened next was what transformed my day from the weirdest day of my life to the kind of day you tell your therapist about. I heard what sounded like clanking metal approaching my line. Before I even turned to see who it was, I already knew I didn’t want any part of it. There, standing about six, maybe even seven feet tall was a figure that indeed appeared to be a robot. It had a human form, but its body was clad in a dark gray - practically black - metal plating, almost like it was wearing a suit of armor. Wrapped around its neck and shoulders and draping down its back was a thick, deep blue cape. I wanted to believe it was just a random person dressed in some kind of futuristic military suit, but the head was what crushed that dream. It was oval in shape - much like a human’s face - with smooth, black glass running from the top of the head down the front of the featureless face until it stopped a little before the tip of its chin. The rest of the head was the same grayish-black metal as the rest of its body. It didn’t take but a second for me to realize the glass was some type of monitor as a blue, smiley emoticon displayed from its surface.
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I stared dumbfounded, unable to figure out how to respond. I must have been staring for quite some time because the blue smiley emoticon turned into a question mark. The robot looked at the items it had in its shopping basket: two dart guns, multiple dart gun ammo packs, and a quart of 10w-40 motor oil. A deadpan emoticon replaced the question mark as it looked back up at me.
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“It’s the oil, isn’t it? Yes, I’m high mileage, but that only serves to show that I’m smarter than you.” The male, robotic voice sounded like someone - who clearly wasn’t British - had programmed the robot to sound British. I half expected to hear him say something to the tune of ‘jolly good day, isn’t it?’. Thankfully, that didn’t occur. I couldn’t stop staring.
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“Oh, god… your Alfred.”
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Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. A red exclamation point flashed on the robot’s monitor as he ripped one of the dart guns from its packaging and aimed it at my head.
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“Answers, woman! How do you know my name?!”
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“Oh, boy.”
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“You know that pipsqueak Dietrich, don’t you? You must. How else could you possibly know my identity?”
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I tried to look innocent as I shrugged my shoulders. “Uh… lucky guess?”
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An ellipsis displayed on Alfred’s face as he stared me down in awkward silence. After about ten seconds, he began to circle around to my side of the counter, the dart gun still trained on my head. “Congratulations,” he said. “I’ve decided to kidnap you.”
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“Wait, what?!”
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He wrapped his free arm around my waist and hoisted me up like I didn’t weigh a thing. I screamed and tried to break free, but his arms truly were metal. There was no getting out of his grasp.
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“Right now, you're probably thinking ‘do I have a choice in all of this?’ The answer would be no. No, you do not have a choice. I have questions. You have answers. May have to torture you a little. You'll probably cry like a baby, and there will most certainly be blood. Overall, I think it's going to be a fun time… well, not for you. However, I'll feel less stressed. Jolly good day, isn’t it?”
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“Let me go, you freak! I don't know what kind of crazy role-playing you're trying to perform here, but you are so breaking a lot of laws right now! I will call the police, and you will go to jail!”
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“You know, I researched that humans tend to feel calmer while looking at pictures of baby kittens.” Alfred’s monitor began flashing various pictures of baby kittens playing and overall trying to look cute. “See? Don't you feel better now?”
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I didn’t.
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The baby kitten pictures suddenly went from being cute to horrifying as they displayed kittens being hit by cars and attacked by dogs. “Whoopsie,” Alfred said. “How did those get in there? Oh well. A quick reminder of your impending future.”
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“Somebody help me!"
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