Scooter didn’t think. Scooter ran. He ran as fast as his stumpy little legs could carry him across the bleak, gray terrain. As the sharp gravel assaulted his sock covered feet, removing his shoes seemed like the worst choice he had made all year. He wished he hadn’t taken off his shoes earlier because beneath the ashen colored dirt were pointy rocks. But sometimes, like when fleeing a giant eyeball sky, one finds a way to deal with the pain.

“Intruder,” the sky spoke, shaking the world like thunder.

Scooter ran like he was being chased by a hungry bear. But then he remembered the show following I Guess You’ll Do. It was called Put the Phone Down: I’m about to Be Eaten III. That narrator of the show said that when confronted by a bear, you definitely should not run. On the contrary, the narrator said to stand your ground and avoid eye contact. And above all, remain calm.

Scooter stopped running and walked with his head bowed low. Unsure of how to appear “calm” he decided to whistle the I Guess You’ll Do theme music. He found it incredibly difficult to walk with his head looking at his feet, and more than once he nearly collided with a boulder.

I was in the cupboard near the HoloGolf machine. I tried to get the kitty litter when *poof* I showed up here. Where the heck did the kitty litter go? And where is ‘here’?

He shielded his eyes with his hand to avoid eye contact with the world eyeball while he surveyed the landscape. In every direction the terrain was littered with dark, car-sized boulders, some two or three times that size. He walked the pale dusty landscape expecting to be eaten at any moment.

Most importantly, there was no sign of the kitty litter.

I’ve entered into my own nightmares. I’ve fallen asleep with the TV on and the show playing is the scariest movie of all time. Maybe Hellraiser vs. Elm Street. Spykids vs. Saw. Or that hard reboot of Beaches.

Just ahead, in the center of a clearing, was something reflective, catching the eerie light of this land just right. At first he thought it was a strange plant in this world, but as he got closer he was surprised to discover it was a sword. It stood upright with its rusted blade stuck into a flat black rock carved to look like the silhouette of a skull. He guessed the sword to be very old, as he spotted the discoloration of rust along its blade, the leather of the grip peeling away. He was about to think it was an odd place for a sword, but then he remembered where he was.

Next to the sword were hand-sized stones, piled on top of each other into small towers. Scooter had seen such things at gravesites before. He picked one up, passing it over in his hand. It had runes of unknown meaning painted onto it. It wasn’t anything his Runes of the Ancient World certificate class had taught.

“Down, putt not out.”

Scooter jumped up and spun around searching the landscape. Not far, peaking from behind a sizable boulder was the HoloGolf avatar. He smiled and waved his holographic hand.

Scooter ran his hands through his hair and let out a loud exhale. He tapped the comm button on his shoulder. “Maygan, I’m pretty sure I accidentally smoked opium. Or a maybe a funny mushroom fell into my mouth when I was searching the cafeteria. I don’t know, but I’m seeing some weird stuff right now.” He began slowly waving his hand in front of his face. He had never done drugs before, but that’s what he thought people did when they were on drugs. Wave their hands slowly and say “woah.” He raised and lowered his legs as if attached to the strings of an invisible puppet master.

The HoloGolf avatar watched this and his kind smile evaporated. He stepped from behind the boulder and stood in full view of the world eyeball, arms crossed defiantly. If there was fear in him, Scooter could not see it. He approached Scooter who was still waving his hand and inspecting the rest of his body as if he expected it transform into marshmallows.

“Hello HoloGolf dude,” Scooter said. He was feeling very laid back.

The HoloGolf avatar examined Scooter. “If I didn’t have holo hands, I’d slap you back to senses,” he said.

“Wait, I’m not hallucinating?”

“No. You’re not hallucinating. In fact, you are the newest visitor to Raven Eye. The Land Between. And my name is GrimLord.”

“Your name is GrimLord?” Scooter was starting to sweat. Not the friendliest of names, is it? Scooter extended a feeble hand to shake. “I’m Scooter.” His hand passed right through the holo hand but he moved his up and down in a handshake motion anyway. “Wait, you’re just a game avatar.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” GrimLord responded with a shrug.

“This definitely is not good.”

“On the contrary, this is time for celebration. I’ve waited a time too long to measure. But now I finally have a skilled warrior to aid me on my quest.”

“A…a wa… a what now,” Scooter stuttered.

GrimLord pointed at Scooter’s chest and was smiling again. “There is power inside you. Others that have come before but did not have what you possess. You see that sword there, planted deep within the stone? Why don’t you try to pull it out?”

“Mr. GrimLord, I’d love to stay in Raven Eye to help you on your quest, but I have something really important to do back where I come from. I’m supposed to be helping someone.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“It’s urgent.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“So, I need to, like leave. Right now.” Scooter stood firm but a ferocious belly laugh escaped from GrimLord, as he doubled over, slapping his knees. After an uncomfortable amount of time he stood again, and wiped the holo tears from his eyes.

“No. No, sorry. That’s just not possible,” GrimLord said.

Scooter tilted his head, his eyes narrowed. “Unless…”

“Unless you help my quest, Scooter Warrior.”

“I’m not a warrior,” he shouted, the intensity taking them both by surprise. “I just need to get back to Automatomics. If you aren’t going to help me, I’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way. I brought you here and I’m the only one who can send you back.”

Scooter stood with his arms crossed, chewing on the inside of his lip. He checked his watch and checked it again. “Are you from the future or something,” Scooter asked.

“Or something,” GrimLord responded.

“And I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No.”

“Okay let’s hurry up. What’s the quest?”

“Try to pull the sword from the stone. That’s the first step. Everything else will follow.”

Scooter huffed as he strode to the sword annoyed at the inconvenience. He gripped the blade, the old leather cracking apart in his palm. The blade was as thick as his arm, the sword nearly up to his chest. He estimated the weight to be ‘freaking heavy’ and took a several deep breaths. He put his other hand on the hilt and mentally counted one, two, three…

The sword slid from the stone as if held by butter. Massively miscalculating the force needed to pull it from the rock, the sword when up and over Scooter’s head, out of his grip, and tumbled end over end high into the sky. It landed in a cloud of dust twenty yards away. Scooter was dumbfounded.

“Splendid,” GrimLord cried out, hands over his holo mouth. “Oh splendid.”

“Was that supposed to be hard? Because it wasn’t. At all.” He puffed up his chest, his arms pushed slightly away from his torso as if he were about to ask where he could find the nearest gym. “Okay can you send me back now?”

“We’re not quite done. You’ll need that sword for the final part of this quest.”

As fast as you can. I’m counting on you, Scooter.

Scooter glanced at his watch once again and hurried off to fetch the sword, groaning the whole way. He pulled it from the ground, surprised at how light it felt. The sword was massive, but he wielded it as if it were a waffle-ball bat.

“No one has been able to retrieve that sword. I knew you were the one. Now follow me. Your destiny lies just over that hill.”

* * * *