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I Swear I Had Something For This
#1
I awoke suddenly, blearily staring up at the ivory ‘ceiling’ for a moment before blinking hard and forcing my eyes to refocus. Still white. Beyond the feeling of stiffness settling around my neck and a nagging pain at the base of my skull, I could perceive only white.

“Jesus, where am I?” I blinked, almost startled by the sound of my own voice. “Did...did it finally happen? Am I dead?” I paused, thinking back. “I didn’t even think that was possible.”

I slowly rose to a seated position, despite the protest of my apparently overworked muscles. If I was in-fact dead, I had some choice words for whomever thought of the idiotic idea of including pain in the severance package.

“Hello hangover,” I found myself muttering, raising a calloused hand to cover an eye, as if that would make any difference. “Glad to see you’ve come along for the ride.” I blinked hard once more, shaking the haze from my vision. The rest of the decor looked to be as bland as the the...ceiling. Or whatever it was. “What is this, a white factory?”

With a deep breath I finally coerced my complaining sinews to support my weight, standing shakily beside what I soon realized was some variety of fountain. I clapped my hands upon the fabric of my bespoke suit, its shape a good deal more crumpled than I would ordinarily have tolerated, as I shook the nonexistent dust from it. At least they’d had the decency to leave my suit.

“So I guess the obvious question,” I said to no one in particular,  “Is...heaven or hell?” I turned to examine the fountain, taking note of the shimmering waters covering a veritable carpet of shiny coins, all contained within walls of uneven marble shaped to resemble a cliff-side. Along the far edge, statues of flexing men struggled to tame weird horse-serpent hybrids. “Great,” I sighed loudly. “Italy. So, Hell it is.”

Dejectedly, I stepped toward the water’s edge and took a seat upon the fountain's rim. I felt the misty spray moisten my skin as I dipped a hand below the shallow surface to grasp for a lira. As my fingers fumbled with the slippery doubloon I caught sight of something across the far edge of the fountain,  immediately dropping the worthless coin as my eyes bulged.. “S-stormtroopers?!”

I stood bolt-upright, nearly tumbling into the waters as I scrambled around the edge toward what I prayed wasn’t some mean-spirited mirage. My polished loafers clicked against...whatever the floors were made of, making a bee-line for the trio of the Empire’s Finest. Nearly a full minute of sprinting later I reached their side, doubling over as I heaved tired breaths.

“Hello, Prime,” the closest of the soldiers announced cordially through their comm unit. “Are you interested in aiding the Empire?”

“Oh my God, maybe this is heaven!" I yelled, still gasping for air. The troopers stood in stunned silence as I composed myself, hands cradling blaster rifles. “Sorry, I’m usually in better shape than this.”

“...Right,” the leading trooper replied, tilting a helmeted head. “Are you...” he paused before repeating his spiel once more. “Interested in joining the Empire? We’re always glad to take on new Prime recruits.”

“Oh man,” I said, having finally caught my breath enough to form complete sentences. “I hope this isn’t some shitty dream. Quick, I’ll run over there like I’m fleeing the might of the Empire,” I said, throwing in liberal air-quotes around the last few words. “And you three shoot at me. I’ll be just like Han Solo!”

Silence hung in the air for a moment before I heard a shrill call from over my shoulder. “Prime! Prime!” A shabby-looking man with leather armor hustled over, brandishing a rolled-up piece of paper in his filthy mitt. “Do you want to join the Kingdom?”

“Screw off, Charla-lame, these are ACTUAL Stormtroopers. Do you have any idea how many of my childhood fantasies I’m about to act-out?”

“Listen, Prime,” the leader of the Empire’s squadron said, more than a little weirded-out. “Do you know where you are?”

“Heaven?” I replied, blue eyes wide with anticipation.

“Wha- no, did you even listen to the speech before you woke up?”

I thought for a moment, the vague memory of a chatty spirit droning on about ‘the world I didn’t know’ coming to mind. “Sorta, I guess,” I paused, trying to remember the details. “I kinda…wasn’t paying attention.”

The trio of stormtroopers sighed, the medieval-styled envoy shaking his head as he walked back toward the fountain. “You’re in the Omniverse,” the trooper replied, his tone indicating that it wasn’t the first time he had to help an unacknowledged newcomer. “Our God, named Omni, brought you here to entertain him. As long as you do that, you can’t die and you can create anything your heart desires.”

“So...you said this wasn’t heaven, though...” I trailed off, my mind suddenly whirring with thought.

“It...it’s not,” the trooper repeated, his helpful facade beginning to show chinks. “It’s a lot to get used to and most Primes just learn by doing. Here, focus for a minute on something you want. If you try hard enough and wait long enough, you can make anything.”

My eyes grew wide once more as I looked down at my hands, pondering the trooper’s words. Wordlessly, I shut my eyes and began to focus. My thoughts focused, the image of a single precious thing becoming increasingly clear in my mind’s eye. Moments later, I felt the familiar weight within my hands.

“...Liquor?”

My eyelids flung open as I took in the beautiful glass bottle between my mitts. The breath was stolen from my lungs for a moment before I found words to describe my bliss. “Not just liquor, Glenfiddich Single Malt Scotch. This bottle is older than I am!” My shaking hands tore the seal off of the bottle, removing the cap and tossing back the bottle before the soldiers could utter another word.

“Look, Prime-”

I held a single finger up to silence the Imperial, slugging down the delicious spirit in large gulps with my vision skyward. The two more-lowly servicemen stood in stunned silence as their leader attempted in vain to interrupt my progress, to no avail. In just under a minute I had finished, now holding the empty Scotch bottle as if it were a precious infant.

“Are you done?” The trooper waited for a moment, taking the pause as an affirmative. “Alright, you get the idea. Do you want to join the Empire?”

“So, let me get this straight. I can make...anything I want. And I can do...anything I want?”

“Yes...” the white-clad solider replied hesitantly.

“Pass.”

I spun on my heel, flinging the empty bottle over my shoulder and marching back toward the fountain.
[Image: sterling-archer.jpg]
#2
“Anything I want…” I muttered quietly to myself, a wide grin splitting my face as I walked back toward the fountain. I had only recently regained consciousness in front of that Trevi knockoff, only to now be told by an ACTUAL Stormtrooper that I could literally reshape reality. Such circumstances usually only seemed plausible after taking one of Kreiger’s latest ‘medicines’. This Omniverse, though, it seemed too…real to be a side-effect of KreigerTussin™. “So many options,” I said, “it’s making my head spin. Or, I guess that could be the scotch.”

I had finally reached the fountain’s edge once more, taking a seat at the edge of the rippling pool. A few moments passed as I weighed my options; it wasn’t like it really mattered what came first, right? If my job was truly to entertain this Omni, I wagered the sky was the limit. I scratched my chin, staring off into the utterly unremarkably whiteness before finally nodding with satisfaction. Yes, that would be the perfect way to start. Setting my keen mind to the task, I focused on my goal.

Splash!

“Wha-”

Moments later my eyes opened slowly to look upon the new arrival, that same wide grin returning to my handsome mug. I watched the bespectacled man thrash in the knee-deep water before clearing my throat, fingers knitted over my lap. “Hello, Cyril.”

“What the hell, Archer? How did I end up in this fountain?” The portly comptroller finally found his feet, shakily standing and trudging to the edge of the pool. “Where...are we?” he inquired, his anger becoming something more akin to fear as he began to notice his surroundings

“You’re in my heaven, Cyril. I created you.” I could barely keep a straight face as the geek’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing with suspicion. “I am your God, Cyril.”

“Yeah, right. You probably just drugged me and threw me into the water.”

“Again?” My expression briefly changed to amusement before flitting back to mocking tranquility. “No, Cyril. Look around. Vast whiteness. You are my creation. You exist to serve me.

A pregnant pause hung between us as he glanced around for any indication of falsehood, eyes practically rolling in his head as he attempted to find anything on which to focus his attention Sheer horror overcame the man as he cast his gaze around and the blank surroundings; his mouth fell open as his dumpy face contorting in terror. “What? No...”

“Oh man,” I blurted out, suddenly dissolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry, I can’t. The look on your face!”

Cyril’s gaze hardened as he removed himself from the fountain, water sloshing over the stone edge and pooling at his feet. He tugged his jacket off and began wringing the soggy sleeves between his equally damp hands. “Very funny. Now where are we really, and how did you bring me here?”

“The Omni...verse, or whatever.” I muttered, attempting to recall what the Trooper had told me as I stood up and looking around. “Apparently we’re here to entertain some guy named ‘Omni’. Not very original, naming the whole place after himself.”

“Archer, seriously. Hilarious joke is over.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved a pocketwatch, flicking it open and sighing. “You broke my watch.”

“I’m serious. I mean, the ‘I am your God’ thing was a little over the top, but I did summon you here. So in a way, it is actually true.”

“Archer.” Cyril replied, his face falling flat. “Really. Where are we?”

I got to my feet, holding a finger out to point toward the direction I had ventured. “See them over there? Stormtroopers. Like, from Star Wars.”

“I know what a Stormtrooper is, Archer.”

“You would.” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.

“And so would you, apparently.”

“Yes...and also shut up. I talked to them and they told me where we are. I can do anything I want, all to entertain this Omni guy.” I glanced up, as if expecting to see the the grinning face of the creator looking down on me.

“So let’s pretend I believe you,” the soggy stooge began, craning his neck to get a better look at the...nothing around us. “You can do anything you want and you choose to bring me here, just to torture me?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

He sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “This is about the Figgis Agency, isn’t it?”

“N-no,” I stammered, fighting back a laugh. “Not at all. No. Why would you think that?”

“Oh god, you’re so full of it. And what, you’re going to summon the rest of us here to play your little game?”

“The rest of you...?”

“You know, Ms. Archer, Pam, Cheryl-”

“Cyril,” I scoffed, “Are you out of your mind? I become an otherworldly deity and you want me to bring Mother along? And I don’t think I even need to explain why bringing those two idiots here would be terrible for everyone.”

“Okay,” Cyril responded, dejectedly taking a seat at the edge of the fountain. “So, Lana then?”

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” I snapped, shaking my head. “Anything I want and you think I’m going to summon my ex-girlfriend and our bastard child?”

The dumpy dork fell silent, resting his face in his hands. “So, who else then?”

I paused for a moment before turning my back to him, holding my hands out before me. “My true love.”

“...Who’s that?” I heard from over my shoulder. “Katya?” Cyril asked, confusion in his tone. “Veronica? Burt Reynolds?”

I ignored the inquiry, closing my eyes and concentrating on her. I could see her, FEEL her. Her full, dark body, her soft curves, her rich aroma. I conjured her clearly in my mind’s eye, racing toward me. We would be together again after so much time apart. I could practically hear the dulcet tones of George Michael’s Careless Whisper as I finished the summoning.

“Are you kidding me?”

The comptroller’s words fell on deaf ears as I looked upon her, radiant beauty bringing a tear to my eye. “Genie...I’ve missed you, baby.” I stepped forward, hesitantly laying a hand on the polished metal.

“A car,” Cyril said, incredulously. “You summoned a car.”

“Would you call Kitt just a car, Cyril? Would you call Daniel Day Lewis just an actor?”

“Whatever,” the soggy accountant said dismissively, getting to his feet and approaching the passenger seat. “Where are we g-” he began, reaching for the door handle.

“Hold it,” I commanded, pulling my pistol from inside my suit jacket and pointing it at him. “You’re not getting in the front.”

“Jesus, Archer,” the bespectacled man exclaimed, backing away with his hands raised. “Do you want me to give you two a minute?”

“Oh shut up,” I retorted, pointing to the back seat and pocketing my firearm. “You’re soaked, sit in the back.”

“Are you forgetting the reason I’m soaked?”

“Just get in the fucking car, Cyril.”
[Image: sterling-archer.jpg]


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