Chapter IV

     The boy awoke with a start.
     "BAM, BAM, BAM..."
     "Huh? What the..." He came to and looked about. Instead of sitting at the table, he was now positioned on the floor, covered with a half-patchwork, half-quilted spread. It appeared as though a long period of time had passed. The last he remembered was listening to his host rambling on about some skyscrapers.
     "Hey where'd you go?" spoke the boy aloud, but Undecided was nowhere to be found. Only then did he realize the rapping which was persisting at the front door.
     "BAM, BAM, BAM..."
     Sleep! He had experienced sleep! As a god he had rested, but never lost consciousness like this. It made him feel frustratingly vulnerable.
     "BAM, BAM, BAM..."
     Realizing that he was the only one around, the boy approached the door and then halted. He really had no idea what may await him on the other side.
     "BAM, BAM, BAM..."
     Then again, what if it was Undecided returning from... wherever. But why wouldn't he let himself in?
     "BAM, BAM, BAM..."
     Finally, deciding that if it was a hostile visitor, it would forced its way in by now, and that no one really knew he was there anyway, the boy unlatched and slowly opened the...
     "HellosiranddoIhaveadealforyou!PleasehaveaseatandlistentothisgreatofferIhavewithmehereforyoufactorydirectwithnoobligation!" As soon as the door was opened just a crack, a large figure shoved his way in and began to spew forth incessant dialog. As the visitor began setting up tables covered with small items, the boy fell backward into a chair the solicitor placed behind him.
     "Wh-who the hell are...?"
     "Justsittightandletmedothetalking!MynameisAnnoyingandIrepresentthelineoffineLATCorporationproducts!" As the man rambled on about his wares, the boy examined the business card which was shoved into his face.

ANNOYING - Sales Manager, Accountant, Distributor, Super Hero, Lunch Boy.  L A T  C O R P.  Please hire me!

     "...airhockeytables,reggaemusictapes,swimmingflippers,SailorMoonactionfigures,dieselfuel,and, of course, PROTRACTORS!" The rapidly-speaking man slowed down for the final item on his list.
     "How come you're the sales manager and the lunch boy?" queried the boy, commenting on the business card.
     "Oh, that?" returned the man, snapping the card out of the boy's hands. "I'm the only one who works for my company," he explained. "I get a better pension plan this way. So, what'll it be?"
     "You deaf boy?" The man took a deep breath. "HellosiranddoIhaveadealforyou!Pleasehaveaseatandlisten..."
     "No, stop!" shouted the boy, but the man continued, once again thrusting the business card to the boy. He sat and endured the sales pitch a second time.
     "...dieselfuel,and, of course, PROTRACTORS! So, what'll it be?"
     "Um, listen..."
     "AGAIN? Well, ok." To the boy's horror, Annoying took another deep breath and began his speech for a third time. "HellosiranddoIhaveadealforyou!PleasehaveaseatandlistentothisgreatofferIhavewithmehere..."
     "BUT I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY!!!" interrupted the captive audience of one.
     "No money?" Annoying stared at the boy blankly. "Well, why didn't you say so. I'm also the man in charge of hiring new people for LAT Corp. We're always looking to increase our work force here!"
     "But I thought you were the only..."
     "A thinking boy, huh? Well, we have some uses for people who have even that capability!"
     "No, no, no..."
     "Don't give me an answer yet!" interrupted the man, producing a tall stack of papers from a briefcase. "Here's all of the paperwork, I'll be in my office. You know how to reach me."
     "And just one last thing," concluded Annoying. "Take this." He handed the boy a small, plastic semi-circular object. "This is one of my precious protractors. They are symbolic of annoyingness itself and posses the unique ability to channel free will to its maximum. Consider it my calling card. Have a nice day!"
     With that, the man folded up the tables, tilted his hat, and left the home just as abruptly as he'd arrived. The boy was left standing there, his arms supporting a gigantic stack of documents which towered over his head, the man's crude business card, a small pen, and a protractor hanging from his pocket. After a moment of recollection, he discarded the pile of wasted trees and shoved the card bearing the name Annoying into his pocket as well.
     "And to think I questioned the imprisonment of these vile creatures," the boy muttered to himself. Once again, the frustration which had always lead to fear crept over him. This time, however, there was another feeling. A longing for his old home he had known so well.
     He missed the world of the gods which he could bend and manipulate at his own will. He craved the ability to envelop himself with the feeling of pleasure as he was once able to do simply by wishing for it. He thought of the other gods whom had tutored him in their ways, whom he had trusted, only for them to turn their backs on him and banish him to this hellish pit. Mostly, he thought of his companion god, the second recent who watched in horror as the equal's fate was sealed.
     Now the feeling had sank to depression, and rose once more to anger. What right did they think they possessed crippling one of their own kind in such a way? So what if they did create him? Did he ever ask to be godlike? Then a realization came to the boy. As much as he had enjoyed the possession of godly power, he never would have dreadfully minded being a mere Earth-dwelling human from the start. At least then he wouldn't miss those powers as he presently did.
     But then perhaps this belief was all just in comparison to his current situation, but truly anything would be more readily accepted than this. After all, Undecided had made it clear that it was every bane's wish to cross into the human world and escape the nightmare of its, and now his, existence here. It had only taken him one night to share this wish.
     The boy also determined that it was not in his best interest to stay in one place of this world for his entire existence, so he searched around the small house, found some bread and pocketed it, not knowing the next time he'd have access to a meal. Determining from the pile of papers in the corner of the room that the Bane World writes in a crude form of English, (The boy, once a god, was actually fluent in all languages of the twentieth century Earth.) he picked up the pen and one of the sheets of paper to scrawl out a note, thanking the man for his hospitality and the bread he was taking. Pocketing the pen as well, and folding up a few of the pieces of paper to take with him, the boy left the house to continue his trek.

[Chapter III] [Chapter V]
Last page update: 10-10-98