Have you ever heard the saying, “If a man should reach the age of thirty and retain his purity, he shall proclaim himself a wizard and gain unrivaled mystic power.”
My name is Callen Smith, and I’m 29 years old. Today is my last shot, my final chance to lose my V card before I find out if that’s true. For you see, today is the day I turn 30.
It was impressive in its own way, I suppose, to still be a virgin at thirty in this day and age. Too bad I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. If this was a sport, I would be happy with a participation trophy.
Throughout my years I have tried to woo many a fair maiden. Tried and failed. Every date ended in disaster. A few ended up on the news.
Local man stabbed in love hotel…
A fire broke out on 5th street…
Eleven dead after police raided a meth lab on Monte Vista Boulevard…
But I will never give up! No matter how many times it takes, or how many people have to die, I will reach the promised land! Victory or Valhalla, that is my only path forward.
Now I just needed tonight's date to go well. All the preparations have been made. I wore my best clothes, used the best cologne, and made sure to shave both balls. That last one is more important than you think. You forget to shave one side of your sack and you will not get laid. Trust me.
If all goes according to plan, I should achieve liftoff long before my deadline of 10:30 P.M. After that, I will officially become a wizard. That can’t be allowed to happen.
You might be thinking, “Callen, if you’re so desperate, why don’t you just pay a woman to tickle your pickle?”
I would say, “If thou could see what dangles betwixt mine own legs, thou would marvel at why she does not pay me for services rendered.”
Honestly, it’s mostly my pride talking. If I paid for it, I would feel like a failure. I know I’m technically paying for it already with dinner, flowers and everything else, but it doesn’t feel the same.
It’s like playing a game on hard mode, then switching it to easy because you couldn’t do it. It leaves a bitter taste of failure in your mouth, and I intend to suckle on the titties of victory.
I left my home that night with the confidence of a lion on the hunt. Tonight, I unsheathe my sword and slay the dragon of celibacy. I will succeed. I will conquer.
I…
Will…
“I’m sorry, this isn’t working out. But I hope we can still be friends.”
Fail!
God damn it!
I returned home that night alone, listless, and completely flaccid. My sword remained in its sheath, and the dragon roams free. At this point I might as well throw the damn thing out. No point in keeping a weapon that’s never going to see use.
Or trade it in for a staff.
I sighed as I lie-down on my couch. “What’s wrong with me Francois?” I questioned my goldfish. I turned to look at him, hoping for some sympathy. Francois was a black and orange, bug-eyed son of a bitch.
Francois gave me a blank, pitying look. How do I know he was pitying me? I just did. After spending years with him, I could just tell. A sixth sense, if you will. One developed over countless trials and tribulations. We were as close as a man and a fish could be.
Francois blew some bubbles.
“You take that back!”
I jumped off the couch, angry at such an insult. How dare he say it’s because I have small dick energy. Because I don’t! It’s like a mighty oak, unbowed by any hurricane. Or a python-no! An anaconda!
That’s right! My anaconda don’t want nothing ‘less you got buns hun!
…That’s a lie. My anaconda would take the flattest ass on earth, no questions asked.
Francois blew some more bubbles, bringing my anger sizzling back to the top. “Fine, I’ll prove it! Smartass fish, I’ll show you!” With that said I began to undress, ripping my nice clothes off with a furious zeal.
Come to think of it, I had never been naked in front of Francois before. Probably because all he does is stare at me with his buggy eyes, freaking me out, judging me. The dick.
Maybe I need therapy. It’s probably not normal to argue with a goldfish and then strip for it. But in my defense, he besmirched my manhood. It was necessary to regain my honor.
At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
“Hah, what do you think about that? Pretty impressive right? Guess you owe me an apology.”
And there I was, buck ass naked in front of a fish. Hands on my hips, back straight, standing proudly, revealing to the world my glory. I closed my eyes and let out a victorious snort. That would show him.
After a few seconds of silence, I opened my eyes to see Francois staring directly at it. Another few seconds went by, before he turned around. Wait a minute… Was he laughing!? Can fish laugh?
My pride shattered, I collapsed to the floor in misery. “Stop laughing you asshole. I’m a grower not a shower, damn it. I knew I should have flushed you down the toilet years ago,” I sobbed.
With a sigh, I sat back, staring at the fish who stared right back. I remembered when I got him. It was at a fair, and I was all alone. Because of course I was. So, feeling lonely, I decided to try and win a fish. I remember thinking, “Yeah, that’s what I need in my life, a little animal friend. Then I can be a real Disney Princess.”
I was a bit drunk at the time.
I won the ring toss game, and the overweight carny, who was making out with a smoking hot blonde, which caused me to question God, handed me Francois. Who I also named while I was drunk.
I don’t think he liked the name, which might be why he’s such a dick. Oh well.
That was about seven years ago now, and we've been together ever since. Through stormy seas and stormy weather, we two stood against the tide, and came out the other end victorious.
Well, he came out victorious. Little bastard was living his best fish life. Meanwhile, I, his erstwhile companion, lay in smoldering defeat, smote upon the barren rocks of this accursed land.
Nothing I can do about it now. Might as well take a shower. A nice long shower, to soak away my troubles. That sounded nice.
“It’s been fun Francois, and a bit humiliating. I think I’ll take a shower and hit the sack,” I told him, standing up and stretching. A few bubbles released from his fishy lips.
“Not like that! That’s the attitude of a failure. The only sack I’m hitting tonight is my bed.”
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Damn fish, thinking I was so desperate as to take my sword and polish it on my own. Not a chance! That’s what squires are for. I just needed to find one, that’s all.
Besides, why would I polish something I’m about to trade in? Clearly, I wasn’t meant for the warrior class, so it’s time to make a change. It was a shitty class anyway. Hopefully I’ll enjoy my new life as an all-powerful wizard.
“Whatever. Don’t believe me, see if I care. But you better not spread any more rumors about me to your little animal friends,” I told him as I walked off. I knew he was the reason that squirrel kept mocking me. He stared at me every morning, standing there on a tree, busting open a nut.
I knew Francois had something to do with it, the gossip. It would be just like him too. Maybe I should tell his little buddies some embarrassing stories about him. That’ll show him.
Or get me committed. It was a risk I’m willing to take, all for the sake of petty revenge.
Francois watched me leave and head to the bathroom. Sometimes I wondered what he was thinking about. I mean, right now he was probably thinking about what a nice ass I have, but what about the rest of the time? Did fish even have the ability to think? Or was Francois just special?
He must be. There was just something off about him, you know? Like he was too aware of the world around him, in a way no fish should ever be. He’s been like that ever since I’ve known him.
I’ve even caught him watching t.v on more than one occasion. He’s fond of reality shows and cop dramas. It was pretty shocking the first time I came home to see his fishbowl on the couch, a bag of chips torn up next to him, an open beer, and the remote, all just lying there.
And he just gave me this innocent look. I was pretty sure he was watching a nature documentary before I came in and flipped it when he heard me enter the house. I suspect it was about some thicc ass tuna.
Based.
But still weird. Fish shouldn’t do that, right? I’ve never had a fish before Francois, so I couldn’t be sure. The family dog never did that. He just liked to poop in my shoes. So does Francois, come to think of it… Though I have no idea how. They must be in cahoots with each other.
It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you. Or poop in your brand-new shoes.
Maybe he was an evil fish from another dimension? Naw, that can’t be it, he doesn’t have a goatee. And everybody knows, evil people from other dimensions always have a goatee. It was a sacred law of the universe.
But Francois was a fish not a person, so maybe the rules were different for animals. I’m probably just overthinking it.
I turned the water on, and stepped into the nice warm shower, releasing a sigh of content. This is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe I should call in sick tomorrow, stay home, and just eat all the ice cream I could.
I lathered myself up, trying to get the stench of failure off of me that smelled suspiciously like my cologne. It felt like I was performing some kind of ancient purification ritual.
Next was my hair. I spent a looong time on my hair. That’s not a euphemism for anything, I just really like to wash my hair. I’m not lying. Seriously, I'm not.
But all good things must come to an end. Eventually the hot water runs out.
Stepping out of the shower into the steamy room, I walked over the mirror and cleared the fog. I could clearly see my reflection, and hot damn! I don’t get my trouble with women, cause that person staring back at me was fine as hell.
My hair was getting a bit long though. Picking at my brown locks, I could easily pull it in front of my eyes. My brilliant green eyes. Was that the problem? My hair was too long?
No, that wasn't it. I’ve seen plenty of men with hair longer than mine in the sweet embrace of passion. There had to be something else.
Was it my face? Sure, I wasn’t model levels of gorgeous, but I wasn’t that bad. An easy 7 if I’ve ever seen one. My mind drifted back to the carny, the one who gave me Francois all those years ago. He was one ugly bastard, far less attractive than me, so that couldn’t be it either.
I began inspecting myself in the mirror. All of me. I wasn’t fat, I had a healthy BMI. I was groomed, both balls shiny and smooth. And of course, I had all the proper sized equipment to perform any sport. Oversized some would say. No matter what Francois says.
After all, what would a fish know? Nothing, that’s what!
So, if it wasn’t my looks and it definitely wasn’t my instrument, then it had to be… me. Was I the problem? Was my personality so bad it repulsed women like two magnets with the same polarity?
Pfft! Yeah right! I have a 5-star personality, perfect reviews across the board. No, it was something else. A quantity that couldn’t be explained by facts or reason. Something like…
A curse! My eyes widened at the revelation. Why didn’t I see it before? It made perfect sense. There was nothing wrong with me, someone must have placed some kind of dark magic on me when I was a baby, one that made women avoid me like the plague.
It was the only thing that made sense. It also explained my own mother’s eagerness to kick me out when I turned 18. Yep, all the pieces fit in nicely.
Nodding my head, I continued to get ready for bed. Flossing, brushing, all that good stuff.
As I spit out my mouthwash, which tasted like bubblegum, I noticed the time on my phone, 10:30. This was it. I was officially 30 years old. “You’re a Wizard Callen. Congratulations…”
With a sigh, I wrapped a towel around my waist before leaving the room, turning the light off as I did so, thinking about my curse and how to remove it before I became an Arch Wizard or something. Maybe I should go see a priest? They dealt with shit like that right? An exorcism might not be a bad idea. Can’t rule out the possibility of demonic possession of some kind.
Maybe Francois knew something about this kind of thing? Couldn’t hurt to ask. “Hey Francois, do you know anything… about… curses…”
Something was wrong. All the lights were off. The only source of illumination was the t.v. But it wasn’t set to any channel, it was just snow and static. Oh shit… is this because I watched that scary movie? But it hasn’t been 7 days yet! I still had time!
I saw Francois in his fishbowl staring at me like nothing was wrong. How is he not freaking out right now? We were in some horror movie level shit, and he was just floating there without a care in the world.
I don’t know what I expected a fish to do exactly, but he could have done something!
“Can you hear me?” asked a voice. A deep and rumbling voice that sent chills down my spine. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once, echoing off the walls.
“Can you hear me?” it asked again, sterner, with a sharp edge to it. It was angry about something. But what? There was also a hint of desperation to it. It was a weird combination.
The voice sighed when I didn’t answer, “Damn it. Couldn't help yourself, could you? You just had to go in there and fondle yourself in the eleventh hour, didn’t you? Of course you did, and I was so close too.”
I may not have known where the voice was coming from, but I knew when I was insulted. “Hey, asshole! I don’t know who you are, but I don’t appreciate your tone. Why don’t you stop hiding like a little bitch, come out of your hidey-hole, and fight me like a man!”
I was met with silence. Yeah, that’s what I thought. Ain’t such a smart ass when the other guy can talk shit too huh? Now I just needed to find the guy and-
A loud boisterous laugh halted my thoughts. It sounded so relieved, like he was just told the lump on his left nut wasn’t cancerous. Just what in the hell was he so happy about?
“So, you can hear me? Good, you had me worried there for a moment. And here I was, planning to smother you in your sleep, ahahaha!”
Um, could you repeat that last part please, I don’t think I heard you correctly. Smother me in my sleep? Don’t say such scary shit with such a happy tone! That’s some serious serial killer vibes right there.
But before I could voice my displeasure, the lights turned on again, causing me to wince at the sudden brightness. “There we go. We can dispense with the theatrics now. Come and sit, we have much to talk about my friend.”
Was he serious? Calling me a friend after threatening me with death? There was seriously something wrong with him. And I still couldn’t find him. Even with the lights on there was no sign of him.
“You say you want to talk, but you still haven’t shown yourself. Why don’t you stop hiding first, and then we can have a nice long chat about breaking and entering with the cops. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”
I heard nothing for a moment, before an exasperated sigh reached my ears. Oh, I’m sorry, you're annoyed? Here I am, all but naked, my glory hidden by nothing but a towel, and you have the nerve to be irritated by me? Screw you pal!
“You really are a simpleton, you know that? I’m not hiding, I never was. I’ve been right in front of you the whole time.”
Right in front of me? All I could see was Francois, staring at me. You know, threatening to kill me in my sleep sounds exactly like something he would say. But that couldn’t be, could it? I mean, he could speak in bubble, but English? Come on, that’s just silly.
Isn’t it?
I mean sure, I’ve suspected that he was some kind of alien who may or may not have been probing me in my sleep, or a demon sent to torment me from the deepest pits of hell, but that couldn’t be true.
Could it?
“Francois?” I questioned as I slowly approached the fishbowl. That seemed to get a reaction out of him, as he jumped out of the water and grabbed the edge of his bowl.
“Finally figured it out, huh? Took you long enough.”
My eyes widened. That was definitely coming from Francois, but his mouth wasn’t moving. It was some form of telepathy. I gaped at him, looking like a fish myself, which seemed to amuse him.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to finally be able to hear me. Can’t believe it turned out to be you. Oh, and for the record, my name isn’t Francois, it’s-”
But I never heard him. Whatever it was he had to say fell on deaf ears. Or more accurately, unconscious ones. It was that moment, my brain decided it had enough for one day. It was time to shut down.
Francois stared at my unconscious body, and once more, sighed in exasperation, “This is who I have to work with? Well, beggars can’t be choosers I guess. I’ll have to work with what I got.”