Prince Dwayne set forth astride his horse Occipter to attain his birthright. He battled the Snoid and the Rice Crispy Goblins and the Jolly Green Giant. He reupholstered the Toyota of Glen Falls, and hosed down the Parking Lot of Albany. He fried meaty disks for the warriors of Clan MacDonald, and served greasy fare for the King of the Burghers. Lo, then did Dwayne ride further, to the wastes of the Mary Land, wherein he was accosted by They Who Would Steal Wallets and snubbed by They Who Need Their Cars Parked. Then did Dwayne sail the Uncompensated Sea on a leaky Intern Ship which sank halfway along. Dwayne ate salads. He harnessed tiny beasts and gathered their dung as they gamboled. Dwayne was tempted by succubi many times: by The Crazy Graphic Designer, by the Control Freak Who Attended Sarah Lawrence, and, nearly fatally, by the All Around Decent Person Who Had That One Annoying Habit. Through these temptations did Dwayne remain pure. Into the Swamps of Unnecessary Grad School did Dwayne nearly tumble, but he righted himself and escaped to the Relatively Safe Forest Of A Middle Management Position. At long last the prophecy was fulfilled. Dwayne recalled the old crone’s weighty words:
“Dwayne of Rockville! Thou shalt fulfill a mighty destiny! Thou shalt do some things, and then do some other things, and then some things after that. Thou shalt meet people! Thou shalt keep doing things…until such day as age or infirmity prevent you from doing much at all. Then shalt thou voyage under the Earth, and in a surprisingly short time nobody will really remember Dwayne.”
Indeed, thought Dwayne. But twas not all in vain. I purchased a most reliable stapler once. And another time, I saw a TV show I really liked. So, OK. Yeah. Mmm-hmmm.