“Where Uncle Bub go?” the toddler asked Roses as he approached the toddler. This was Sunday October ninth, when the announcement should have been made, but your marvelous host was a no-show.

“I’m not sure, little buddy. That’s who we are looking for… I think.”

“Bub? I mean, I guess it could be him,” Rosemandle said. “Not too long ago, he got trapped in a closet for a week… or so word on the street is. Maybe we should check?”

“Well, there must be something more. Willow and Nick are almost always here if he is not… so where could they be? Certainly not all three of them are stuck in a closet,” Roses pointed out.

Rosemandle furrowed her eyebrows. “It isn’t completely illogical to think so, though,” she added. “I say that that should be our first step.”

“But you are overlooking a major detail. Caleb’s nephew—or we assume this is his nephew—is here. That can’t be a coincidence. Maybe he’s a clue.”

Rosemandle lowered herself to my nephew’s level. “Hey, do you know where Cal—Uncle Bub is?”

The toddler pointed to a set of tire marks on the stage. “Oh, well that was easy.”

“A car!” he said. “Red car! Vrrrrrrmmmm!” my nephew took off running in the direction the car went, Roses and Rosemandle following closely behind.

*****

It took a week of searching and several calls to the police, but the duo finally were onto something. My nephew had been dropped off at the police station where, later, his parents picked him up, worried sick about where he had been. The cops, however, were too busy to look for a host notorious for being stupid, so they gave the Rose Crew—name still being workshopped—a few resources and sent them out on their own.

The clues led to a trailer in the middle of nowhere. Literally one single trailer in the middle of Death Valley. They highly doubted that this was it, but they had come too far to question the data now!

Walking up to the screen door, its fabric falling off, Roses looked at Rosemandle and said, “Hey, I’ve always wanted to say ‘FBI! Open up!’ then kick the door down… do you think that maybe I could—”

Rosemandle giggled. “Be my guest,” she replied.

Roses eyes lit up. “ROSE CREW! OPEN UP!” he yelled. When no one answered, he slammed his shoulder into the door. At the same time, the door was pulled open, and he went stumbling across the floor. He made eye contact with Caleb and said, “ ’Sup.” Trying to play it cool, he propped his chin on his fist.

“Well, it appears you guys followed the clues and found me! Congratulations! I knew you could do it!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rosemandle said. “This was all a game? Do you know how dangerous it is to leave a toddler in the middle of an arena for twelve hours alone? Not to mention, his parents were worried sick about him… and to put a cherry on top, we spent an entire week outside of work, buying tickets, and driving all over the place in search of you.”

I looked at her for a second. “So, maybe I didn’t think this through all the way—”

“And where are Nick and Willow?”

“On their honeymoon,” I said.

“Oh, snap. They’re getting married?” Roses311Sublime asked.

“Well, they are married, but yes.”

“Sorry. Bumped my head pretty good on my way in.”

I pulled him to his feet.

“So, I suppose you guys want to know who won.”

“Yep. After all that trouble, I think that's the least we deserve, but yes.”

“Alright, so, third place is your post, Rosemandle. I loved One Freezing March Day… It was cute.

“Second place is Moki_mori’s A connoisseur.”

“Cun oy seer?” Roses asked. “I may have bumped my head, but I don’t think that is a word.”

“It’s a spelling aid. Anyway, it was also cute. I enjoyed it.

“First place is RayBug63’s post My Fault. I thought that it was really good! A little sad, but also redemptive in a sense.

“And, Roses, your post Nice Apartment is an honourable mention. I am excited to see where you take the story next!

“Now, you guys really need to work on your team name.”

“And you need to stop putting yourself, others, and children in danger,” Rosemandle said

"I can't make any promises."

The stage was dark and misty. The stands were full of eager fans awaiting the coolest man alive to arrive… but he never did. He has done this once or twice, but it is always odd for him to not show. This absolute hunk of a man, Caleb, is typically fairly punctual. The crowds thought that, perhaps, it was a tease. But as the sun set on the day, their tickets having been purchased for a 9 A.M. show, they knew that something had to have happened. But, if something had happened, certainly Nick or Willow would have said something, and yet the couple were nowhere to be found.

It is absurd to think that Caleb is losing his touch, especially after the dance number that he pulled for the season premier. So where could he be? Where in the world is the GHOAST (Greatest Host of All Time)? Only time will tell when he will arrive… Or, perhaps that toddler to stage left has something to do with his disappearance…

“Hey, Nick,” I said, leaning back, sipping a mock-mosa out of a glass in the kiddie pool I was in. My pink unicorn tube bobbed up and down slowly as the reclined in the sun.

“What’s up?” he asked, looking over at me from his beach chair.

“I have an idea for the season premier. Tell me what you think: We hire a live band to play Crazy Train, and I ride into the arena on a train, rocking out.”

“We hired a live band to perform your garbage song last season, Caleb,” Willow said, tanning on the beach chair next to Nick. “People will think you’re beginning to lose your magic touch.”

I tilted my sunglasses down. “Hermana, Caleb is not losing his magical touch.”

“Mmmmhmmm, that’s what they all say.” Willow rolled over onto her back. “So, how long will the arena be a beach again?” she said.

I looked around at my creation: I had dumped several hundred pounds of sand onto the stage and set up yellow UV lights to simulate the sun. In the center of the stage was the kiddie pool that I was floating in, set up three beach chairs, and put up a fake palm tree. Very real looking.

“Ferb, I know what we are going to do today,” I said.

*****

The audience filed into the dark room, murmuring amongst themselves. “It’s darker than normal,” an audience member said. “What do you think he has planned?”

“Another musical number? Remember how dark it was when he sang that song for the finale? I wonder if he has recovered any from that prankster, come to think of it…”

"Planned? Dude, it's Caleb. He has nothing planned. He just pull things out of his a--"

"Hey! Caleb is the most creative, most awesome, most coolest, most handsome, most talented person I know. Don't talk about him like that!"

"Ma'am, you do know the whole point of the show and the challenge is spontaneity, right?"

"You shut your mouth!"

The audience member rolled his eyes and looked ahead of him at the dark stage.

The murmuring continued for several minutes. Eventually, it quieted down, until the arena was completely silent. A dim glow began at the stage, not bright enough to illuminate anything. Slowly it brightened to reveal me, Willow, and Nick on the stage in hero poses. We all were wearing our beach-wear and sunglasses with smug looks on our faces. Immediately, we broke out into a fully choreographed dance number, shaking our arms to the sides then switching to the other side. We put one hand on our hip and began leaning it to one side while pointing at the audience in a

circular motion, similar to the Sprinkler. We waved our arms in a circular motion around our bodies, as if we were the face of a clock, then we spun backwards, gave our butt a little wiggle, and spun back around. Nick dove into the kiddie pool, Willow jumped and landed on her side in a beach chair, resting her head on a hand and bending one of her knees in that oh-so-familiar pose. I slid on my knees and grabbed the microphone from the stand. “It’s Pen to the Paper 26, baby, and that means it’s season three!!!”

The murmuring continued for several minutes. Eventually, it quieted down, until the arena was completely silent. A dull glow began at the stage, not bright enough to illuminate anything. Slowly it brightened to reveal me, Willow, and Nick on the stage in hero poses. We all were wearing our beach-wear and sunglasses with smug looks on our faces. Immediately, we broke out into a fully choreographed dance number, shaking our arms to the sides then switching to the other side. We put one hand on our hip and began leaning it to one side while pointing at the audience in a

circular motion, similar to the Sprinkler. We waved our arms in a circular motion around our bodies, as if we were the face of a clock, then we spun backwards, gave our butt a little wiggle, and spun back around. Nick dove into the kiddie pool, Willow jumped and landed on her side in a beach chair, resting her head on a hand and bending one of her knees in that oh-so-familiar pose. I slid on my knees and grabbed the microphone from the stand. “It’s Pen to the Paper 26, baby, and that means it’s season three!!!”

The crowd went wild.

“Also, Nick and Willow are dating.”

My two friends went red in the face and started denying it. I smirked at them, bowed, and sprinted away as they got up to chase me. Little did they know, I was wearing Gingerbread Man underwear.

“YOU JUST GOT PRANKED, BRO!” the lame loser-face said after slamming an ice cream cone into my face, pouring a two-hundred degree coffee over my head, and kicking me in the kidneys repeatedly.

“Very funny,” I said as the internal bleeding started.

The hooligan ran off, never to be seen again. Or so I hoped.

It was Monday when that happened. Nick and I were still finalizing our plans for the announcement, so we decided to meet for lunch to finalize our decision. The rest of the week is prep rehearsal, if it was something crazy enough to need it. Which, as a finale episode, has to be.

On Tuesday, Nick and I were at the arena placing orders and double checking our inventory. We needed to make sure that we had enough snacks and drinks for everyone that we were projecting to attend. And, also, we needed to make sure that what wasn’t organized for the closing of the challenge had its first steps done.

As I left the arena, I heard something from behind me. But I was too late… the villain gave me a wedgie, pantsed me, and kicked me in the shin. “YOU JUST GOT PRANKED!!!”

On Wednesday, I left my house for a bike ride. We did not have anything going on that day, as there was nothing we could do before equipment and whatnot arrived. As I rode down the street, a snake slithered in front of me. Having no other choice, I ran it over. Much to my surprise, I found myself flying head over heels off my bike: it was a stick. Silly string rained over me, and a bucket of paint was thrown on me, ruining my favorite running shirt.

“I JUST PRANKED YO’ FACE!”

By Thursday, I was on edge. I flinched at everything and became hyper-aware of my surroundings. Nothing could get past me… Not even the inch worm climbing up the tree two hundred feet away from me. Pretty impressive for a man who needs glasses. Sleep was miserable, because there wasn’t any. My eyes were open the entire time. But, nothing happened.

Friday, I was much calmer. Maybe the psycho was gone. Sore, I decided to hop into an ice bath. I was exhausted from the previous night, and I ended up passing out in the tub. I woke up to the smell of something cooking. I screamed in agony as I realized that the prankster had struck again! He was making Caleb stew.

“Is it safe, Nick?” I asked, preparing to go on stage for the announcement.

“This is probably the safest big idea you have had yet! So, yeah. Odd that you are concerned with safety, but I am glad you aren’t actively trying to kill yourself anymore.”

“I’m not talking about that, man. I have never been in more fear of my life. I feel like every corner I take, he’s there, waiting to deal me out some pain and call it a prank…”

“Oh,” Nick said. “That. Well, I put him on the banned list, so hopefully he won’t be let in.”

“I need to file a restraining order…” I replied.

“I think that you are due for more than that. Do you know the winners?”

“Yep! Now let’s get this show on the road.”

Lights began flashing around me as I went up the elevator. Guitar in hand, I was dressed like Johnny Cash and was ready for the performance of my life time. But, when I got on stage, there was only one person in the crowd.

“HA! YOU JUST GOT PRANKED!”

His voice echoed throughout the empty arena. “I BOUGHT ALL BUT SIX SEATS ON MONDAY!”

I looked at the six other people in the audience. The contestants. “Hey, guys, I’m sorry for this atrocity. I had some pretty big plans, but he has been doing crazy stuff like this all week. Before I get into announcing the winners, would you like to hear the performance of my lifetime? That’s right, my lifetime, not yours.”

Roses311Sublime started hooting and hollering.

“Thanks, that means a lot, man!”

I started the riff for Ring of Fire. I was two bars in when all of the lights fell from the rafters, followed by my guitar erupting into flames, and my Johnny Cash outfit disintegrating. I had pajamas on underneath, don’t worry.

“Well, this has been a disaster. Thank you, stranger, for these absolutely hilarious pranks. I have never laughed so hard in my life. Ha, ha. See? Ha, ha.

“Nick! Get security to escort this man out of my arena!”

Nick’s brother emerged from the darkness, threw the man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and threw him out the front door.

“Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Let’s move onto the announcements, shall we?

“Coming in third place, we have Roses311Sublime with Cryptic Beginnings! It was a fun read and the first of its kind: the first part of a series only to be released during the challenge. It was a great start, and I am excited to read more!

“Coming in second place, we have Moki-Mori’s Pen to Paper 25! That was hilarious! I loved it!

“And, finally, in first place, we have a really strong exit to this season. This person is new regular to Pen to the Paper, and I was happy to see that they found a seat and an entry before Prankster McGee bought them all… Anyhow, Zeethefoodie is taking home this season’s final prize with Emotions and Colours, The Rainbow Kind! As I said, it was an amazing way to end this season! It was deep. My favorite part is how well Zee personified the emotions that she covered. It was a great read, and I one hundred percent think that everyone should read it.

“Thank you all for coming out to Pen to the Paper 25!!! I will see you next week for the season premier of Pen to the Paper Season 3!!! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lawsuit to file...”

The electric guitar screeched throughout the stadium. Lights flashed as the drummer slowly began to play, teasing the crowd. Slowly, the drummer increased the speed with which he was playing. Two spotlights erupted from the stage, quickly diverging and bathing the entire stadium in a brilliant white light. Smoke erupted from the stage along with it. The guitarist jumped out from behind something, and fire blasted from the stage as he began playing his riff.

In a crescendo of awesomeness, I emerged from the elevator in the center of the stage and looked up, eye-liner laid on thick. My cape flowed through the wind. Spotlights pointed on me in my full glory: parachute pants, a cape, and a mesh tank-top.

I looked up and began singing a song so awesome it cannot be repeated. So great, it makes every lyricist look like an amateur. So amazing cool-tastic, that it can never be written down again.

JK

The music stopped.

“It’s poetic,” the music started again.

“The nature of my contest is hectic

But I was elected

No one else selected

Number one game show host, no better contestants

You’d think you’d learn your lesson

That only I can be the bestest

But still you come for my throne

I created Pen to the Paper

And ten minutes later

Everyone was thinking no challenge was greater

Nothing else was like it, it was a game changer

No one else was actively putting themselves in danger

But still you think you can come for my home

Been two years of Pen to the Paper, now this season is coming to a close

Don’t you riot, and don’t you be opposed

’Cause Pen to the Paper will be coming back with a vengeance, bros

Got another season in the makin’

With all your favorite peeps, bacon

We’re talkin’ Nick, Willow, and most importantly

The greatest and hottest host in history

The amazing and infallible me

So strap on in

The show's about to begin

Let’s end this season with a banger

This second season of Pen to the Paper!”

I climbed on top of a thirty foot ladder and jumped. I screamed when I realized that parachute pants do not act like a parachute when you fall.

I wondered if this was what a hangover feels like. Sore eyes, achy muscles, the feeling that every bone in my body is out of place, and a complete and total lack of mental sharpness. All I wanted to do was sleep. Lie in bed and just do nothing. But, alas, I pulled myself out of bed despite the fact that my cognitive ability was at a negative sixty-three.

I moped around the arena, poured myself a cup of coffee despite the fact that caffeine has no impact or the opposite effect on me, and sat down next to Nick in our office space. I sipped from my cup. Raising my eyebrows and blinking lazily, I looked at him.

“You good, dude?”

“Spectacular. I feel hungover. Minus the headache, ’cause, y’know, I’m immune.”

Nick shook his head and gave me a quizzical expression. I chuckled to myself as he said, “You’re what now?”

“Immune to headaches. It’s like a super power, man.”

“No, duh. Do you have any idea how lucky you are!? Headaches are the worst, and you have never experienced one?” Nick asked in disbelief.

“Nope, never.” I took another sip of my coffee.

“Unbelievable. You ought to be outcast from society. It isn’t fir that you don’t have to experience headaches.”

I rubbed my neck and replied, “If it makes you feel any better, the pinches I get in my neck are so bad, the only thing keeping me from cutting my head off is the fact that it would kill me.”

“Anyways,” Nick replied after a pause, “are you good?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I just woke up like this. I’ll probably take a nap before heading out there tonight.”

*****

When I woke up, there was a blinding light shining in my face. I stretched, pushing the blankets off of me and stretching. Did I mention that I stretched? So, I stretched, stretching my arms and legs, stretching my toes, locking my knees to bring life to my thighs. I moaned mid-stretch, then rubbed my eyes. Looking at my watch after I stretched, I noticed the time. Then, I looked up. I shot out of bed and grabbed the microphone in front of me. “Hey, hey, hey, and welcome to Pen to the Paper 24!!!”

The crowd began to cheer and throw roses at the stage. One member of the crowd threw a baby at me with a note that read, “Sign my baby!”

“I apologize for being shirtless. Especially with my newly acquired Dad bod. I honestly have no idea how in the world the bed was moved here without my noticing… I am quite the light sleeper.” I looked down at my chest and plucked my single chest hair so that I looked a little more professional. “So, I’m trying this new thing. My friend calls it ‘bulking,’ I just call it stuffing my face. But, yeah, don’t worry too much about the weight gain, however insignificant it is at the moment. Just a few pounds… Sorry, I know you guys are here for Pen to the Paper, but being shirtless has me all self-conscious and whatnot…

“Who’s ready for the announcements!?”

The crowd roared with excitement. Shirts were thrown off and down onto the stage, one of which landed on my face. “Ehm, guys, can we please stay fully clothed? Thanks.

“It was tough choosing this month! So many posts really stood out to me. I wanted to reward so many posts with first, second, or third place. But, alas, I must only choose one! Coming in third place, a close tie with second, we have Switched at Death by DeAnn. It was incredible! It pulls you in and is the perfect opening to what could potentially be a larger work of prose. It has so much potential and was a great read.

“In second place, we have a post by __abby__ : only her. It was a sad read, but it was a great read. I thoroughly enjoyed it and recommend it to everyone.

“In first, the winner of this very bed that I slept in tonight—okay, that’s not true, this thing is way too comfortable—is Rosebug63!!! False, the first entry to the challenge this month, was another emotional read. Very powerful. Thank you for entering it.

“Moving on to some honorable mentions, GLD, I think that this is the first time that you didn’t make it into the top three. I loved Broken… a lot. In fact, it was a top contender for third or second—as I said, it was tough to choose this month. Thank you for the audio version of this poem, it really added to the poem.

“Roses, I hope you’re doing well. Always a pleasure to see an entry from you. I have a soft-spot for musing-type works as your Post Work Day Musings was. I very much enjoyed it.

“Zeethefoodie! The Woods was super confusing. But that is why I liked it so much. I didn’t really know what exactly was going on, and, for some reason, that really drew me in.

“Another top contender, Identical by Elikimber was spectacular! Super gripping, and a great start to what, again, could later become a larger work. Thank you for sharing!

“And, finally, EllaSmellaa, Her Novel was beautiful! I absolutely loved it. You were another top contender this month.

“There are so many others that I want to cover, but I will bring it to an end here. Thank you for coming out tonight! I am looking forward to seeing you next month for the season two finale! Oh, shoot, that means I’ll be nineteen in two months… Well, that’s a good way to end. On a note of existential dread.”

"I will probably have to say this every year," I said into the mic, "but this is not the season finale. That's the next one. Crazy to think that it's almost been a year since I created that chicken suit… And how on earth will I top an entrance like that? Perhaps doing the chicken dance… Oh, wait. I've done that. I think several times."

I put my hand on my chin and furrowed my eyebrows. "I've got it! I can cheat on my invisible girlfriend with an invisible woman and then sing the Macarena! How relevant to the meaning of the song… Very appropriate and not at all a totally twisted and sick idea. Well, would ya look at the time? You guys have been waiting for a while. I guess I should let you hear what you've been waiting for. Pen to the Paper 24 is out now!"

I have been gone for a long time. Part of me is sorry for not updating anyone on anything; part of me understands that I have been quite busy lately and have not really had time; part of me knows that part of the reason for that is the fact that I have wasted too much time. But this is not an apology, though I am sorry. Writing is a passion of mine that I have missed greatly. In fact, as of late, my fingers have been itching to brush across my keyboard and actually type out something other than Pen to the Paper---not to say that I dislike it, it's just not the same as sitting down and writing a story, a mind-wandering, an essay, a song, et cetera.

This, however, is not the purpose of this post.

I have been looking into colleges lately. After graduating this year in Pensacola and taking a walk around the PCC campus, I felt a calling to go to school. Pursue a higher education while trying to obtain my pilot's license. The call was strong. A riptide pulling me out to sea. So, I have been searching. Thinking about the minors I will be taking, trying to figure out how in the world one studies for an SAT, and all of that fun stuff associated with trying to head off to college. I have a year, so though I don't worry too much about getting things done, affording college and flight training on top of it is a major concern of mine.

I feel like, lately, I have just been wasting too much time. I have once again been sucked into the endless pit of micro-satisfaction that YouTube provides. I have always struggled with it, but, lately, it has increased once again. Something is looming behind it all, but I did not realize that until this week.

I have once again been avoiding responsibility. My self-esteem and confidence, though far higher than they have been in years, are dropping again. I find myself struggling in social situations once more. Hiding. Keeping to myself. Oft, I stare off into space, at first in a pensive mood, then going blank and focusing on this feeling in my gut that won't waver.

The feeling of emptiness.

I don't know what the cause is, but here I am, trapped in this void. I think that I am subconsciously searching for something to fill that void. I think that's why I have been having such a hard time escaping the YouTube trap lately. I think that that is the reason temptation, after being clean for almost five months, has been knocking on my door again. Every coping mechanism I have had is throwing itself at me in desperation, but nothing is working. I mean, I just fricken ate ice cream, then sneaked the last piece of cake my grandmother bought from the store yesterday.

Empty.

I can't shake the feeling. I feel fake again. Telling people that I have been doing well. Bringing it up to my parents, whom I love and trust immensely, is just something that I can't fathom. I think about it and freeze. I could write them a letter, but I feel like I have given them two too many letters to even try that.

I can't open up to people. And yet, opening up is what I know I need to do.

I need a shoulder to lean on. A friend who knows that I'm going through something, but instead of pushing lets me put my head on his/her shoulder and just stay like that for a while. I need a hug, but I don't want to ask. My best friend lives a seventeen hour drive away, and the closest friend I have here has been AWOL lately, so I haven't been able to talk to him.

I then remind myself that, "Hey, Caleb, you're super religious, aren't you? Isn't that what God is for?" Wasteland by NEEDTOBREATHE then floats through my head:

"Oh if God is on my side

Then who can be against me

Yeah in this wasteland where I'm livin'

There is a crack in the door filled with light

And it's all that I need to get by"

I try singing these words with conviction: like I mean them. I pray and ask for help. I ask God to tell me what's wrong. To be my shoulder to lean on. But I leave feeling the same.

Yesterday, my parents took me and my little sisters to the lake nearest to us. We swam in it for a while and had a blast! But as soon as the festivities were over, if I stopped for just a second to think or stand still, if I stepped out of the lake for a moment, I felt it. That feeling of emptiness. My entire ride home, I spent in silence, staring out of my window blankly, reminding myself of Wasteland and praying to the Lord for help. At home, I walked into the house numb and expressionless, hoping that someone would notice and say something, but also wanting to hide away in my room.

I feel stupid admitting to it, though. My life isn't hard, I don't have it bad. My parents love me, I have a scholarship for the first step towards my dream career, I am one of the lucky few whose best friend has been his best friend since he was literally a newborn... and yet I feel empty and alone.

I feel immature admitting it, but sometimes I wonder if it stems from not finding someone to love. I want to have someone to love deeper than just as a friend. Looking around at the kids my age and younger who are dating doesn't help. I have never had that. But I don't think it's my time yet, and there is only one girl in my life I would ever consider dating, and I would never ask her out for fear of losing a nearly nineteen-year long friendship. I also must remember that I have a lot of maturing to do yet, and starting a relationship when I'm older and more mature is more likely to last. Along with that, as a Christian, I believe that finding someone is a gift from God, not something I accidentally stumble upon one day and then work to keep. Though that last part is definitely still true.

But I know that that isn't the case. Sure, I feel lonely every now and then, but I am ready and willing to wait as long as I need to find the right person. We get so eager and rush into relationship after relationship... I don't need to be that way.

I miss my cat immensely. Not a day goes by that I don't think about Bear.

I am struggling. And I am empty. And I don't know what to do. I mean no disrespect to God. It's only human to have a hard time seeing His hand in these low moments.

This low, however, has lasted a long time. I just want to escape. The crack in the door filled with light seems to be closing. I'm losing hope, but trying to keep my chin up. The water is rising above my head, and I am growing tired.

Privileged. I may not be rich, but I feel privileged because of the love and support around me, and therefore guilty about the emptiness within me.

But I wait. I wait for God to heal me miraculously. I wait for someone to say something. I wait for that hug and that shoulder to lean on.

SUNDAY, JULY 17, 2022.

"Have all the preparations been made, Nick?"

"Yep, we should be ready to get you up on stage in a couple hours here. Just waiting for your suot to arrive," Nick replied, checking his clipboard.

I looked over at Willow, our accountant, who was sitting oddly close to Nick. "And, Willow, what's the budget for the finale looking like? We have two months to prepare, so I'm not super concerned, just wondering."

"It's… you don't need to worry. You sold out to Buccee’s, remember? There are quite a few zeros here…"

"Good, good," I said. "That means we can be a bit extravagant next month if I choose as well… Also leaves a budget for the premiere in October."

"Holy cow, dude," Nick said with a bewildered look on his face. "Don't do that to me."

"What?"

"We're that close to October? Heck, this season is almost over? Jeez, I feel like I wasted my entire year. What have I done?"

"Nick," I said sternly. "This is supposed to be funny. Quit giving people a midlife crisis."

Willow checked her watch. "I gotta go," she said. "I'll be back for the show, though."

"Yep, same, actually," Nick said, setting his clipboard down. "I'll see you in a couple hours, Caleb," Nick said, placing his clipboard down.

The two left the room together, leaving me alone.

"They must think I'm stupid," I mumbled to myself before leaving my seat.

The office was very small and built solely for the purpose of these brief meetings prior to the show. Often, the three of us would gather in the room to discuss ideas for upcoming shows as well. Other times, we would discuss expanding the business and hiring others. But, more often than not, we gathered together in this room and argued like real friends. We all have a deep, platonic love for each other, but arguments were frequent, and always hilarious in hindsight.

In fact, yesterday we argued about who plucked their eyebrows the best. The answer is none of us, of course, because none of us learned how to do it professionally. We all just woke up one day and got fed up with the ever-diminishing gap between our eyebrows. I will say, though, as the eldest, I very obviously am the best at plucking my unibrow.

Where was I? Ah, yes, the office. It consisted of a round table the takes up 85% of the room, the chairs around it, and a window overlooking the small, wooded pond behind Pen to the Paper Arena. Having given very specific instructions for how I wanted the building designed, this was the only thing that I wanted. However, I know nothing about architectural design, and my blueprints would have led to a building ever on the verge of collapse. Who could have thought that there was such a thing as structural integrity, and that a building of this would need massive support beams and pillars?

Nevertheless, this led to our office having a closet. A very small closet. A closet so small, the only thing that is really worth storing within it is a broom and dust pan. A person could squeeze in, but if the door were to get closed, there would be no escape.

I heard a noise from the closet as I scooted my chair in. "Pizza time?" I asked, cautiously approaching the closet. I grabbed Nick's clipboard and held it tensely above my head. Slowly twisting the knob, I prayed to God that it would just be Tobey Maguire with a stack of pizzas.

I quickly yanked the door open, closed my eyes, and swung the clipboard. I smacked the side of my hand against the side of the door and screamed like a little girl. The clipboard flew out of my hand, bounced off the wall, hit me in the back of the head, and skittered to a step in the exact spot Nick had left it. I stumbled forward and fell into the closet. Somehow, in a feat of physics only possible in written word, the door slammed shut behind me, leaving me alone, cramped, and stuck.

I knew it was futile to call for help, so I opted to take a nap, assuring myself that I would be awake by the time Nick returned. But I had only gotten an hour of sleep the night before. When I awoke, from my standing slumber—which felt quite good—and managed to look at my watch, it was midnight. I had slept for twelve hours! There was nothing I could do. Nick likely wouldn't be back until next Sunday, and I had left my phone in my locker with do not disturb on.

TODAY

"God?" I asked when light seeped into the closet from behind me.

I twisted myself around as best I could to see a silhouette of a tall, strong man in the doorway.

"God! It is You! Well, I thought that I was going to live to be 103, but 18 works too, I suppose."

"I'm not God, Caleb, though you're lucky you survived, man," Nick said. "A week without food or water? Where'd you use the ba—nevermind. I can smell it."

"What else was I supposed to do? Hold it?"

"Well, the people are waiting. I was going to host it if you didn't show, but seeing as you're here…"

"Hey, man, I need you to get your priorities straight. First order of business: a shower. Second order of business: food. But I'll take the food first, please. I could kill for a taco right about now."

*****

"Goooooood evening, ladies and gents!" I called from the stage, lights dancing, smoke spewing, and ice cream getting shoveled into my mouth. Yes, that sentence is grammatically incorrect, deal with it.

"Sorry for being late! But I am here now, so let's begin, shall we?"

The crowd cheered.

"In third place, we have Remember by Raybug63! I thoroughly enjoyed it. It really got me thinking. I always love seeing your work, so thanks for sharing!

"In second place, we have AnnFan14's "Call me what you want, when you want, if you want"-lyrics by Dominic Fike. You put a great message within this work that more people need to be spreading and feeling! Everyone should just be themselves!

"And, in first… I had a tough time with this. We had many, many great posts this month. But I think that the author most deserving of first this month is Ayifushere with I wish I could fly away.!!! It was a beautiful but sad work. Many posts seemed to have a sad undertone to them this month, now that I think of it.

"Now for some honorable mentions. Roses311Sublime, I always love seeing you. A Story From My Mind While On Quarentine With Covid was amusing, as always.

"Ebube's untitled work was a short, cute read that I recommend to everyone.

"HMS… I wanna see more from this world you created in Dinner and a surprise. I was left curious to know more about where we were, who this things were, and just see whatever other wacky thing existed here!

"fudo, you were definitely a top three contender. Who couldn't love that story of yours?

"Hyperfluxe, that twist at the end was unexpected. Great job! I thoroughly enjoyed your work.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming out tonight! I will see you all soon."