Note to self:

Need to schedule cut, color and brow wax at Bikini Cuts. Although I still think it slightly wrong to get arch advice from a bethonged unibrowed gay ogre.

It's not the thong that gets me, let's be clear. It's the unibrow.

"What's that boss?" Pointing to the packaging and product on my workbench.

"The newest Castle Gudanov product, Hans. It's the infinite snooze alarm clock. I expect it will sell really well."

Hans picks up the alarm clock and the thick 500 page manual. "How does it work?"

"Just like any regular alarm clock, only when you hit snooze you are randomly displaced in time by a tachyon emitter for 7 minutes. When the 7 minutes is over, no time has passed in your actual timeframe."

"Huh? So you can hit snooze as much as you like and you'll never be late?"

"Exactly."

"Why is the manual so big? It doesn't look complicated."

"It's simple, it works like any other alarm clock. The last 495 pages of the manual are all just warnings and disclaimers. You gotta really cover yourself when you market temporal displacement devices."

Oooh, new NevR-Late Snooz Clock. What a great idea. It's cute, too, shaped like that. And it comes in colors! Gotta get me one.

Somewhere over in Dogtown, there's a vague rumbling. The local power momentarily flickers. Is it possible that the members of Grooveyard [in what state they were formerly left, I can't recall] could be waking up and plugging in? Handy, that NevR-Late Snooz Clock.

Hello, yes? Is anyone available in the Complaints Department?

Yes, well, you see, I have a bit of a problem. Well, yes, it's my drummer, you see. He appears to have used your clock? And you know how sometimes you wake up even after you hit the snooze button? Well, he did that, and, well, he was apparently somewhere in the mid-16th century. Yeah, I dunno why, either.

What's the problem with that? Well, there isn't any, really, it's just that, he seems to have liked it. Yes, and now he wants to go back. But you know, it's random, so he just keeps hitting the snooze button over and over again.

I mean, sure we were in stasis for all that time, but that was just like sleeping, but really really cold. You know? We're up now, and so long as we are, we might as well try to get some work, but he's like, obsessed.

So can you like, actually, help, or something?

While working in my lab late one night, I was interrupted by Inga, one of my assistants.

"I didn't think you bought into that magic stuff", she commented as she walked into the lab.

"Huh?"

Inga pointed to the broomstick floating in the middle of the room.

"Oh that. It has a gravimetric propulsion unit, nothing magic about it. I'm running a test to see how long the batteries last."

Inga looked over the broomstick. "Planning to take advantage of the Harry Potter hype to market these?"

"No, no. That has nothing to do with Harry Potter. That's a Henry Putter Nimrod 2100 Personal Flying Device."

Inga spied another, sleeker, broomstick plugged into a wall socket, recharging. "So what's that one?"

"That's the deluxe model, the Flameball PFD. It will cost a lot more, but it's faster, more agile, and iPod compatible."

Ah, what a beautiful day. The sky is dark grey and stormy, people look depressed, and there's not a flower to be seen. I turn to my city manager, who is riding with me as I tour the city.

"Well done, Malphas. The city looks adequately depressing."

Malphas responds in his raspy voice. "There is more, take a left and see what was been done with the that flower garden in the traffic circle."

As suggested, I take a left and soon see what Malphas was talking about. There in the middle of the traffic circle is a 12 foot statue of me. I cruise slowly around the circle to get a better look.

"It's part of the new parks and rec program. We're replacing flower gardens and playgrounds with statues of you." Croaks out Malphas.

"The statues should be taller."

"Yes sir, I'll inform the parks department."

I drive on, and see some members of the ministry of happiness patrolling the streets. "How is the progress on complaints?"

"The ministry of happiness has nearly eliminated complaints. The last poll showed 100% of the survivors of the surveyed are completely satisifed with the job you are doing as mayor."

I start driving back to city hall. "I have another project for you Malphas."

Malphas comes into my office with a bunch of rolled up papers. "It's almost done mayor." He croaks out while spreading out the papers on my desk.

I look over the plans, while Malphas explains. "The dungeons go nine levels deep with each level stocked with progressively more dangerous creatures and traps. It's all first class goblin construction, we contracted with Goblliburton."

I smile as I look over the detailed maps. "Excellent work." I open the top drawer of my desk and pull out a crystal orb whose depths writhe with black fog. "This orb makes the weather dark and miserable, it sucks the happiness from the city, keeps flowers from growing, and makes puppies sad. This is what I want placed in the depths of the dungeon."

Malphas nods. "Very well. I have just finished interviewing some evil Dragons for the job of guarding the deepest part of the dungeon." He hands me the resumes.

I look over the resumes, noting the impressive hero slaying experience of both Nithhogr and Ancalagon. "So who came off better in the interviews?"

"I though Ancalagon really came off well, very menacing. Also he did really well in the dangerous breath test. Acid cloud, really awful stuff."

"Excellent. Have Ancalagon start immediately and take this orb to his lair." I hand off the orb to Malphas.

"One more thing, what about treasure? You know gold and jewels and such."

I wave my hand. "Oh just the usual, give each of the monster a little to carry and place some in chests though the levels. Just make sure that the lower levels have more treasure than the upper levels."

"Very good sir." Says Malphas as he leaves with the orb.

I mark another item off of my evil wizard to-do list.

"Hey, Bob! Where did you get this flier that says 'Adventurers wanted for new dungeon. Suprises galore, bring the kids!'?"

Out for a stroll, I trip over the tail of a Dragon. Funny, if I didn't know better, I'd say it was Nithhogr.

Nah... Any way you slice it, the beastie for damn sure left his tail in my path, and he didn't even say, "Excuse me."

Dragons. Think they own the road.

Well, just to teach him a bit of manners, I did a little whammy on him. Own the road, do ya, big guy? One good blink, and all his pretty scales are covered in tar.

Gonna need a lot of WD-47 to get that out of your scales.