Worried About Your Size? (1)
1005 Words
Another day, another work at the hospital.
As part of my medical transcription routine, I utilize the hospital's internal email system to be informed of new transcriptions I must work on; as well as deliver finished reports and such to my superiors and co-workers, who will then transmit critical info to the patients.
As I'm familiar with mainstream technology, checking email is a walk in the park.
I can be up-to-date on the news I may have missed for the past week or so.
I can be informed on the latest game sales, especially now that I'm allocating a good chunk of my salary to everyday expenses as well the dreaded bills.
I can be updated on how my old friends are doing, even with social media practically replacing email as a common interaction medium.
But of course, there are exceptions.
There are times where I'm inundated with emails that have subjects such as these.
“Unsatisfied With Your Short Biological Weapon? We Have the Pill for You!”
“Make Your Wife Happy Tonight With the Strongest Erection Pill on the Market!”
“Canadian Pharmacies Offer the Best Pills for Your Small p***s Problem!”
“Be the Best Performer In Bed! Grab Our Latest Product, the Titanic Gel, Right Now!”
“Alpha Males Endorse This Pill! This Makes Babes Fall for Them Every Time!”
Yeah, those types of emails that offer fake p***s enlargement pills or supposedly exotic medicines that are purported to maximize men's performance in the bedchambers.
I don't fall for these. I usually mark them as spam, and let the email client delete them after a week of staying in the spam folder.
Today isn't any different from any other day, where there are no transcription jobs I'm working on, and I'm just checking my email to uphold my productivity.
Except...
My co-worker Berenice also receives these types of emails, even though she's female and thus has no use for male enhancement products.
As her desk is right beside mine, I can hear her bellyaching.
“Uhh... Bernard? Can you please help me with removing the spam from my email account?”
“How bad is it?”
“It's that... even though I delete them frequently, more and more of these seem to keep coming by the minute.”
“OK, I'll go take a look.”
I approach her desk, and I can see a great number of the spam emails that are flooding her inbox.
“Hmm... maybe some crafty spammer guessed your email address and used some techniques for his spam to get past the spam filter.”
“Yup, makes sense.”
“Did you try to report the spammer to our email provider?”
“Yes, and they've said they're working on it.”
“Good. I appreciate you being proactive about this.”
“Yeah, I've learned a lot from you. Thanks.”
“No prob.”
I return to my desk, satisfied.
Yet still bored as heck.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in Rain Marginal...
...the hooded figure plans something.
Not necessarily sinister, but is sure to bring inconvenience to the townspeople.
“I'm sorry that my actions have indirectly killed at least three people. But this time, I'll make sure no one is killed. I'm giving them... and especially him... something unique to escape their boring, ordinary lives...”
As the figure raises the object they hold...
“Hmm... which harmless monster should I create today? Ah, yes. People are getting sick and tired of spam emails, so why don't I spice up their e-lives by turning data from deleted spam into a monster?”
The object then shines a bluish aura as it absorbs the data from deleted spam emails, which are culled from various storage banks as well as transmission lines such as fiber optics and Wi-Fi, as well as scraps of a robot the hooded figure happened to find the other day – to form a monster that is obviously big and hard in all the right places.
“Alright... what name should I give you? A-ha! Truncheomara it is! Because that truncheon of yours is thick, is hard, and is coming to get whoever it wants! Now go, Mr. Hard!”
“Hahaha! Yes, my master!”
It's almost time for lunch break, and I notice that everything in my email's spam folder magically vanished. Zapped into oblivion.
Normally, this wouldn't worry me too much since the email client is doing its job, but I can hear some explosions outside.
And boom! The clock hits 12 once I hear an explosion in the same place where I've fought the cobra mech monster two weeks ago.
“See you later, Berenice!”
I declare to her as I head out hurriedly.
“Wait a sec! You'll eat lunch even with these explosions around?”
“This'll be quick. I guarantee it.”
“OK.”
I'm back once more, in the site of the first battle.
Amidst civilians who are huddling for safety, I can spot a robot-looking monster with a mushroom head, and also has a truncheon arm (its right arm) that is extendable.
Sure enough, the monster uses its arm to hawk pills to clueless guys in the vicinity.
“Hey! I'm not harming you all! I'm just giving you pills to make that thing in your pants bigger! Trust me, your wives and girlfriends will be happy tonight!”
Hold on a minute! A threatening-looking monster propping up advertisements for male enhancement products?
A light bulb pops up in my mind.
This must be the reason why spam emails mysteriously vanished!
Bits from their deleted data were used to form this monster!
It might be silly at first; but considering how some monsters of the week in the superhero shows I've watched in my childhood years could be downright ridiculous in both concept and execution...
And so, I do my part in stopping the monster by delivering an armor-piercing statement.
“Hey, Mr. Long and Hard! Your actions of advertising male enhancement pills don't have the approvals of the Better Business Bureau or even the Food and Drug Administration!”
The monster just stands there in shock.
“What?! You're jinxing me! Oh well, since you've reminded me that I'm considered a criminal by the government for supposedly fraudulent acts... I MUST DESTROY YOU RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!”
I snap back, as I prepare my five ladybugs for swallowing to initiate my transformation...
“Well, bud, your wish won't come true. Gjallarhorn... Gjallar-form!”
I don the magical armor with the accompaniment of the heroic trumpet; and afterwards, I declare proudly...
“I sound the beginning of the end of evil! The Resounding Horn, Gjallarhorn!”
- Writer
