A few days ago, a meteor crash-landed smack in the middle of the Bawker's parking lot.
Of course, Adam, Zoe, and me went to check it out because, well, what else are you going
to do when space debris comes falling from the sky?
But here's the kicker.
It wasn't just a hunk of rock.
No, from that meteor came a talking chicken.
Yeah, you heard that right.
He introduced himself as Commander Sarap, claiming to be part of some intergalactic group of
Universal Protectors, and he didn't waste time getting to the weird part either.
He looked straight at me and said I was one of the chosen ones.
According to him, the fate of the universe is hanging by a thread, and for some bizarre
reason we're the ones expected to save it.
But with music.
Yep, still trying to wrap my head around that one.
I know it all sounds ridiculous, but I kind of want to believe him.
I mean, how many chances do you get to talk to a sentient alien, or a talking chicken for
that matter?
Maybe it is crazy, but I kind of feel hopeful.
Like this could be my shot.
Everybody wants to leave their mark on the world, right?
Everyone wants their life to mean something.
Maybe this is the moment I've been waiting for.
The one where I finally get the chance to do something big, something that matters.
I'm supposed to save the universe?
I never asked for that responsibility.
Of all the people in the world, why was someone like me chosen?
I'm nothing special.
If I'm being honest, I'm probably below average in every area of my life.
I guess it's kind of funny when you think about it.
The fate of the universe in the hands of a guy like that?
It's not like I'm some prodigy destined for greatness.
I'm just a fry cook at Bawker's.
Half the time I'm just coasting by, trying not to mess things up too badly, and now I'm
supposed to be some cosmic savior?
It's the kind of thing you'd see in a movie.
Except this time it's real.
And I have no idea what I'm doing.
Did Sarap really pick the right guy for the job?
What is he even seeing in me?
I've got no skills, no ambitions.
If anything, I'm the least qualified person to be thrown into this whole saving the universe
situation.
There's gotta be someone out there more capable.
Whatever, you know what?
I'm done stressing.
Freaking out isn't gonna help, and worrying won't make me any more prepared for this mess.
We'll get there when we get there.
Saving the universe can wait for a little bit longer, right?
It's kinda crazy how fast this year's gone by.
I used to just spend days at home until the boys came along.
Sure, people might call that coasting, but you know, had to mind it one bit.
Besides, none of that matters now because I'm having so much fun.
Kai can be a bit serious, but you know deep down he's looking out for us.
And there's Adam, who makes me laugh with his weird jokes.
Every day feels like an adventure, I didn't even know I wanted.
Oh, and if that wasn't enough, we even found a new friend too.
So tiny and fuzzy, and has the funniest little temper.
But somehow, even with that attitude, he fits right in with us.
Sometimes it all feels unreal.
Having friends who are there every moment, it all happened so fast I can barely catch
my breath.
I wonder if we'll always stay this way.
I really hope so.
I wish I could just freeze times like this and keep them forever, just as they are.
Mission log entry number three.
Mission designation, Operation Plump W. Date August 3rd, location, Earth.
I find myself up to my ass in a sea of cerebrally challenged individuals.
This planet is a vacuum of self-awareness, where nobody knows how to express their feelings
to one another.
They all lie to themselves and spend their days lonely, even as they are surrounded by
their friends and family.
I'd say that pond scum could have chosen a better planet, but I know that's in subordination,
so I will refrain.
For now, I'll assess the situation on the ground.
I've chosen three humans with unassuming personalities, but more baggage than an airport.
For future mission logs, I will refer to them exclusively as Tryhard, Greaseball, and Headrest.
My only solace is the knowledge that I am not the only one scraping this barrel.
With hundreds of Gnorri scouting for talent, there's bound to be something worth salvaging
on this ball of dirt.
Commander Sarap, signing off.
My rank is higher than that impudent fowl.
So why have I caught wind of some secret mission that he's been assigned to?
Not only is his insubordination insufferable, but he's a complete and total slacker.
The idea of him being handed any kind of special order is absolute bollocks.
I bet this is a shady scheme to slip past me in the chain of command.
Or worse, maybe his loyalty lies elsewhere and he works toward a goal that's more sinister.
I can picture his smug face right now, satisfied that nobody has proof.
Well, I won't stand for it!
I will find out what Plump W is, and when I do, I will use everything in my power to
stifle your progress.
You mark my words, Commander!
In the meantime, the one million and one year cycle has passed, and we've been sent to
a new planet to scout for potential candidates.
The three chosen that I've selected have already awakened their powers.
At the very least, I'm confident that they have what it takes to beat whatever rubbish
he gathers together.
Met an alien the other day.
I thought I was bugging, but I started playing with its wings and stuff, and it bit me on
the tricep.
At first, I thought I'd turn into an alien, but then I remembered that's werewolf rules.
So yeah, I'm still a humanoid.
The alien did give me powers, though.
If I flare my nostrils and flex my thigh muscles as hard as I can, it summons a drum set out
of thin air.
For it to appear, I also have to think about how bad I don't want people to get mad at
me, and that I'm super worried about disappointing my friends.
But I think it's mostly because of my thighs.
I'm pretty stoked about it, though.
I'm ready to do my part.
In the beginning, I was all worried it'd be a big deal and stuff.
Like, I felt this crushing weight of responsibility.
But you kinda get over it after a while.
Like it wears off easy.
It's chill.
Nothing the L-Dog can't handle.
Do you know what it's like to be on top?
Well, it's not just about stardom.
It's walking into a room, and knowing every head will turn.
It's about having that special something that makes you impossible to ignore.
When I wake up, the first thing I see is my name blowing up.
Hundreds of comments, new followers, brands begging to work with me.
Oh sure, I have my haters, and they say some horrible things about me.
But the one word they'll never use is forgettable.
That's because my beauty and charisma are undeniable.
They're jealous, and who can blame them?
I'm everything they wish I could be.
Some people pretend not to know this because it intimidates them, but the cold hard truth
is that in this world, looks are what matter most.
Well, it's only natural that I'm one of the chosen.
I mean, I was barely even surprised when I found out.
I don't need to be told to know I'm special, because I see it every single time I look
in the mirror.
Cosmic powers.
Interesting.
These are definitely something new.
I'll figure out the best way to put them to use.
Whatever happens though, I won't let it go to my head.
Last week I encountered a cosmic being that granted me the ability to literally warp reality
through music.
But as it turns out, I'm not the only one.
Hundreds of others, including Kai, stumbled upon this same deal.
His own pet, his own powers, and apparently the same mission.
But here's what bothers me.
Why so many of us?
It diminishes our strength, stifles our capacity to make the hard calls and do what needs to
be done, and frankly, having someone like Kai thrown into the mix?
That kind of unpredictability is our fast track to ruin.
No, I'm starting to see the big picture.
It's not enough to simply play along on some grand mission.
We can't risk leaving our fate in idle hands.
I'll take charge.
That's the only way we'll ensure our survival.
Do you know who you are?
I mean truly?
Humor me for just a moment.
I want to know if you've ever found yourself in a situation where you ended up behaving
differently than you thought you would.
You might have imagined yourself as somebody who could handle a crisis, but when faced
with unexpected chaos, you found yourself paralyzed, unable to take action.
Perhaps you never imagined you could hurt the people you love most, but got overwhelmed
and lashed out at one of them in a moment of weakness.
What do you do with the things you're most ashamed of?
Do you bury them away where they can't be found, or wear them on your sleeve?
And why do you think that is?
Your mind has created a story for itself about who you are and what you want.
A pretty lie that allows you to carry on.
It's just basic self-preservation.
Who wants to think of themselves as a bad person?
As irredeemable?
We all intuitively know that such people exist, but not you, right?
Oh no, never you.
Well, it's just a thought.