In a small apartment in Midway City...
He was at the end of his twenties. His apartment was kinda messy... Actually, it was VERY messy. After all, he had been busy working, trying out his new skills, reading all those books from the library. Busy indeed.
Then, it knocked on the door. Probably the landlord, bugging him with the late rent. That would soon seize to be a problem. But as he opened the door, it was in fact NOT an very large and ill-tempered elder woman. It was a young man(couldn't be more that 17) that he never had met before.
"Um... Can I help you?" The man asked, feeling that he somehow knew the teenager.
"Would you believe me if I told you that I'm a bible salesman?" The teenager asked with a bright smile.
".... No."
"HA! I like you! Can I come in?"
"... Well..." He looked at the young man. Besides the strange punk outfit, he seemed... Nice, maybe? Trustworthy? "Sure, come in. Want a cup of coffee?"
"Sure, thanks." The teenager stepped in, making sure that he didn't step on some of the books that lied around on the floor. "But no milk. I'm allergic."
"Oh, good, don't have any." The man pulled some books from the small kitchen table, getting the coffee. "I'm allergic as well."
After five minutes, they both sat on the old couch, each of them with a mug.
"I'm sorry." the man asked. "But do I know you? You seem... familiar. Are you a cousin?"
"You could say that." The teenager said, taking a surprisingly big sip form the very hot cup of coffee. "Very distant, though. Say..." The teenager pointed at the dozens of books. "You are quite the reader, eh?"
"Well, it's... sort of a new hobby, I guess." The man emptied his cup. "Say... um..."
"Call me Bob."
"... Bob... can I tell you a secret?"
"Oh, please do that." Bob grinned. "I LOVE secrets."
"... Well... See, I've never been a... very bright person."
"But you love books?"
"I'm getting there... See, well... I recently lost my job. I knew this guy, and I told him about my trouble getting a new job, since I... have a record. So he tells me that he was going to break into a... Look, promise you won't tell anyone."
"My lips are sealed."
"... He told me about this lab. Joey told me that it would be easy. Just steal this device thingy, and that would be it. That no one was going to get hurt. In and out. But once we got there, he security was more.... there were more guards than Joey thought. I was the only one who got out. I even got the machine."
"I sense a but." Bob got himself another cup of coffee.
"Well, the machine kinda... started to burn. I just wanted to see what it did, so I turned it on. Here. But it started to burn, and then there was a lot of weird smoke. After I stopped the machine from burning, and cleaned the air as well as I could, I got sick. But then, three days later, I got better. And... I on't know, I just felt... smarter. I can't explain it, but now I just... get things."
"So different... and older than me..." Bob mumbled.
"What?"
"Nothing. Go on."
"Well, I'm smart now. I read a book about something, and I just... get it! And... Oh, I gotta show you this..." He left Bob, and went to the toilet. It was around the size of a small closet. He came out with a box. In the box was two small plastic objects.
"Earrings?" Bob asked.
"Not just earrings!" The man looked like a boy who were about to explain his very first science-project. "They are cell-phones! Tiny. Voice-activated. Heck, they are even solar-powered!"
"Well, you can't play Candy Crush on them." Bob pointed out.
"Trust me, I'm working on that. But don't you get it, Bob? I'm... I'm a genius! I don't have to worry about jail ever again! I can contact some big-shot lab or something... Maybe Lexcorp. I can make something useful out of my life." The man laughed. "Make the world a better place and all that."
"Good for you." Bob padded the man on the left shoulder. "Say, Mr genius; do you know what pheromones are?"
"... Eh?"
"Pheromones." Bob repeated.
"... Well, yes. It's a secreted or excreted chemical that triggers a social response from a creature of the same species. It can be used to instill feelings such as intense fear, happiness, depression, sexual arousal, or a false sense of se... wait a-"
"Or a false sense of security to other beings." Bobfinished. "Now, tell me, Ira... Don't you find it odd that you have never met me, and yet you trust me so much that you allow me into your home AND tell me all about the wonderful thing that has happened for you?" Bob opened up his shirt, showing a little device taped to his chest. "I actually made this gizmo to get laid, but hey, it has many functions." The teenager's smile was the sort the man named Ira didn't like.
"I... I don't understand?" Ira was confused and scared.
"I don't expect you to." The teenager buttoned up his shirt once more and left the room. "I just wanted to see what you were like. Goodbye, Ira." The Teenager picked up a small cube from his pocket, dropped it, and closed the door. "Enjoy your stay on Mars."
The teenager heard a large boom from inside the apartment, and heard Ira scream. After a minute had passed, he entered the apartment once more.
Ira Quimby was gone.
"Sorry, old boy." IQ grinned, as he picked up his Motherbox. "But I prefer to be a one-of-a-kind guy."
To be continued...
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