I hate Howard.
|I hate Howard. Howard’s a putz. I hate rain too. Not Rain, the weird girl at the bookstore. She’s hot, in an oddball way. I mean rain the precipitation. It shows up when I have plans and ruins my hair. Howard and rain are probably the two things I hate most.
They’re why Tuesday night sucked. I was at the bookstore to get Landon Flanderson’s new epic, The Route from Point A to Point B Commonly Used by Male Sovereigns. Rain was nowhere to be seen. I wandered the aisles for a while, trying to either find her or a non-creepy way to ask another store monkey where she was.
Disappointed, I headed out. On opening the door, I stopped and stared at the falling curtains of rain. Where had this come from? The night had been clear ten minutes ago.
Howard leapt from the bushes, wielding the POWER OF THUNDER! “Your day has come, vile foe!” He shouted, flinging back his cloak. Seriously, he wears a cloak.
Another peal of thunder echoed through the parking lot. Shoppers dove for cover. Spilled lattes spread across the floor of the store's symbiotic Starbucks like foamy tentacles. I sighed and stepped out into the deluge.
Here’s the messed up thing about Howard. The POWER OF THUNDER is bloody useless. Sure, it makes a huge noise, but that’s it. He’s irritating if I’m trying to sleep. The crazy part is, he has the POWER OF LIGHTNING, but only uses it to jump start cars. That’s my nemesis.
Howard strode toward me, eyes alight with menace. I lashed out with the POWER OF FIST, right to his stupid face. He went down in a heap. I rolled my eyes, got in my car, and went home to read. Stupid Howard.