Glintlock. Or not.

It is the Dawn of Time. For this presentation, Little Person Living Inside My Head will play the role of Glintlock, the Huge Fairy Living Under A Rock. (Please, Loverlies, bear with me. It's a long bus ride.)

So it is the Dawn of Time, and flaming cauldrons of hot lava are bubbling and gurgling, the toxic air is noxious as it it's expected to be, and the unicellular being (which, happily and lazily, although occasionally with some measure of enthusiasm, has been floating in the pond among other similar beings) is beginning to sprout a little tail. But you can't see it, or its new little tail, because they are super, super small. We're talking microscope small, I swear, it's like trying to see a....argh. Hang on. Someone needs the spotlight again.

Me: Okay, Little Person Living Inside My Head, what now?
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Hi!
Me: Hi. What do you want? I'm telling a story, here.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Sooooo....how are things, buddy?
Me: "Buddy"? Geez, I created you! What recognition!
Little Person Living Inside My Head: What, like you wouldn't call God your "buddy"?
Me: WHAT?
Little Person Living Inside My Head: You know God, don't you?
Me: Um, I know about God. Sure.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Have you spoken to him lately?
Me: Him? No. You?
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Yeah, actually I follow him on Twitter. I totally retweet his tweets. Like, all the time.
Me: Okay. First of all, you sound like a teenager. Second, quit using my iPhone to spy on me and my Twitter activity when I'm not looking. It pisses me off. And third, you are not following the actual God's Twitter feed, you are following some guy who pretends to be God. And he's funny.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Ah! So you admit God exists! You said "the actual God"!
Me: *sigh* ...
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Why are you sighing?
Me: Because you're freaking obnoxious.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: You love my being obnoxious: quit whining! It enables you to write senseless, pointless, absurd dialogues between you and me and kills time while you're on the bus. And you believe in God!
Me: I do not. I don't see why this is any of your business.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Hee hee. I live inside your head: everything about you is my business!

So the tiny, unicellular being we were spying on earlier in this post was merrily zooming in a circle around its cozy pond, humming a light tune and switching directions once in a while, so as to not wear out its tiny hairs/arms/means of propulsion and their tiny follicles.

Little Person Living Inside My Head: Snooze.
Me: Shut up, worm.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Rude!
Me: Obnoxious.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Rich vocabulary!
Me: Shut up.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: ...and plethora of insults! No! Nooooo! I am slain by thy whipping words, oh mighty, mighty creator! Aaaaargh! Pain! Shooting pain through my heart and soul!
Me: Okay. Put your costume on. It's time for the play.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: What play?
Me: The Glintlock thing.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Oh! No. No, I'm not doing that anymore.
Me: What? But we've been rehearsing for weeks! You've made me listen to you in my sleep! You have been waking me up in the middle of the night - while I was on vacation! - to show me your costume and to relieve you of stage fright! You are not doing this to me.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Yeah, no. My agent was supposed to call you about that.
Me: You don't have an agent.
Little Person Living Inside My Head:: Yeah I do!
Me: Oh really? Who is it?
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Glintlock.
Me: No. Glintlock is the character you're supposed to portray in the play.
Little Person Living Inside My Head: Well, he lives inside my head now.
Me: Great. Now the tenant in my head has a tenant in its head.