Chapter ONE:
It was late July... No, that's not right...It was late May, and a curious little man woke up to the sound of an annoying pop song by an anonymous pop star.
"Damn alarm clock. Shut up!" He yelled, and in a hasty attempt to save his ears from the abnoxious noise escaping his Mickey Mouse radio speakers, he threw his pillow at the object, knocking it over. The protective cover to the batteries came off spilling it's contents, 2 AA Duracel, on the floor.
"Damnit!" yelled the man, who happens to have a name and that name is, Marvin. "My favorite radio. Gosh!" (if you're starting to picture Napoleon Dynamite in your head, do..but don't).
Marvin jumped out of bed and ran to his little childish clock-radio, put the batteries back in, and turned the knobs to make sure it still worked. The annoying song came back on, so apparently it was fine. What a relief.
Marvin then performed the rest of his morning rituals: Peeing, brushing his teeth, taking a shower, and preparing his breakfast: Special K with Calcium enriched Soy milk-- for strong bones. And of course no morning would be complete without the daily measurement.
Marvin kept a Muppets Measuring poster from when he was a kid on his wall to check his height each day, and today was no different. He stood straight, back against the wall, neck stretched high and erect, and put his hand right above his head as a place-holder. He then turned around with eager eyes to see the results-- 42" (that's 3'6" in case you were wondering).
"The same as yesterday," said Marvin with a sad sigh. The numbers were the same everyday, and yet he held on to that glimmer of hope that one day, his bowl of Special K and soy milk would pay off and he would suddenly find himself no longer a midgit, but a tall and confident man. Today would not be his day, though.
With this knowledge, Marvin trudged out the front door and down the street towards the Subway. He tripped over a rock laying in the middle of the sidewalk.
"What the hell?!" he yelled, rubbing his sore knees before standing up, dusting himself off, eyes darting left and right in a cool manner, and stepping out again.
As he passed Central Park, he looked to his right and noticed something very odd-- an elderly woman doing a headstand on a bench. It was a very strange sight indeed, and Marvin walked a little closer to get a better view of her and even closer still until he was standing witin conversation distance. She had her eyes closed as if she were deep in thought, but they sprang open the second she felt Marvin's presence. This sudden loss of concentration caused her to become unsteady and she toppled over, slamming into the hard pavement.
"Ouch!" She screeched.
"I'm so sorry," said Marvin, as he rushed to help her up.
"Don't touch me! Stay away!" She shouted, shooting a warning glance.
"I'm so sorry," he repeated, "I don't even know what I did wrong exactly, but..."
"Oh, stop with the apologizing, Marvin." Said the old woman, dusting off her pants and pushing herself back up on the bench.
"How did you know my name?" Asked Marvin, perplexed.
The woman pulled herself up into a normal sitting position. "Oh, that's not all I know about you."
"Really?" he was really curious now.
"Well, you're Vertically challenged for one thing."
"Thanks, thanks a lot!" said Marvin with a huff.
"Secondly, you work for a pig-headed boss whose job description leaves much to be desired."
"That is true. But who doesn't? With all due respect, all this stuff you're saying-- not so impressive. What I want to know is how you know my name."
The woman sat and contemplated for a second, then replied: "You have a nametag on."
Marvin looked down at his polo shirt and noticed his work nametag pinned over his right pec. Feeling quite stupid, he apologized for being so brash with her. She accepted his apology, and then began to explain why she had been balancing on her head moments earlier-- she was practicing a new yoga move for a class she taught in SoHo, and offered him a discount to take clases with her. He said he'd think about it, but honestly had no intentions of going.
Marvin and the woman exchanged good-bye's, and he trudged along back in the direction of the subway. He would surely be late for work now, but he didn't care. If this acting stuff continued to go well for him, he wouldn't need his silly "day job" anymore. He could tell his pig-headed, lazy boss where to put it. The year before, Marvin had been a lead elf in the film "Bad Santa" starring Billy Bob Thorton, and was sure that film would catapult him into mainstream stardom. So far no such luck, but there was still hope. Hey, there was a high demand for midgits these days.
Just as Marvin was nearing the Subway he tripped over a purse lying in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Just my freakin' luck!" yelled Marvin to the world. As if it was listening.
"Look at the little man, mommy. He fell down." Said a kid passing by, with a look of concern and confusion in their eyes.
"It's called "midgit" kid!" Snapped Marvin. He was in a very bad mood at this point. That is, until it hit him what he had tripped over-- a purse!
His first thought was that maybe, just maybe, he could get a date from it. If he just looked inside the wallet, found the driver's licence, found where the woman lived and brought the purse back to her, she might be so overwhelmed with joy that she'd invite him in for something drink and maybe, just maybe, something a little extra. Women are always more friendly when in a vulnerable state.
But Marvin quickly snapped out of his dilusion and realized something even more grand than women and the slightest possibility of receiving love and affection from them...money. There HAD to be money in the purse. He made an honest and comfortable living, but where's the harm in taking a little more?...
NOW'S YOUR TURN...What should Marvin do? Should he take the money (if there is any)? Or should he do the honest and respectable thing and return the purse to the woman? You decide. Then I will...
