Emperor David here. I have been making a list all week of things I need to accomplish. You know: usurp Faustus, install my boyfriend as liege lord over Upside-down Hippopotamus, train Goblin as elite bodyguard . . . that sort of thing. In my imperial ambition, at least, things are going rather smoothly. It is the rest of my life that is overwhelming.
Drop off laundry, pick up laundry, go to the grocery store, go to the grocery store to get everything I forgot the first time, send invoices, pay bills, vote, write six pages of this, write three pages of that. These are the things that vex me. These are the things I can never seem to get done, the things that I transfer, unaltered, from one day of my to-do list to the next. They mount and compound, and before long, I am drowning.
But instead of worrying about them (or, god forbid, doing them), I will tell you a story. Gather close to your computer monitors, my precious angels, and read a true tale of suspense and terror.
Picture it: Towson, Maryland, a couple of years ago. My ex-boyfriend, Michael, and I took a visiting friend to visit one of the country