Cool Old Guy

An older gentlemen started visiting the Dominion about a year ago on a weekly basis. He is the affable and awesome sort of old chap, a dude in his late 70s who possesses boundless mirth, sharp wit, and excellent stories which Fernando found just marvelous to hear. Fernando has no idea where this guy came from and why he'd never stopped by the store before that point, but that's all beside the point. Cool Old Guy was here to stay, and Fernando was more than fine with that.

This is a man who'd served in the Korean War, one who traveled overseas to places as disparate as Thailand, Norway, and the Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza; he attended Michigan State University back when it was still called Michigan State College of Agriculture and Applied Sciences. He married his college sweetheart and worked, over the years, as a civic engineer, a shipbuilder, and a woodworker. He collects fossils and has an irrepressible curiosity for the sciences, and also more “realistic” science-fiction literature and movies (“Way I see it, I'll never get off this rock, so it'll always be fictional to me personally.”).

His speech is not filthy or vulgar, simply factual. He does not shy away from topics which might be considered in bad taste or embarrassing. He told Fernando about his collection of Playboy magazines, which go all the way back to issue #1 (“And they're all still perfectly readable, though not even God could tell you how some of those pages still turn,” he said). They have had frank and not pants-on-head stupid conversations about American politics and normative political and social philosophy, something which never fucking happens.

Cool Old Guy spoke smatterings of no fewer than seven languages in his heyday: English, Japanese, Korean, Russian, German, Spanish, and Latin, though anything not named English is limited to curse words and naughty names for body parts these days. He did not just learn rote phrases to get by on a daily basis, but delved into the underlying grammar and structure of the languages he knew. His worldliness imparted upon him awareness that different cultures parse the world in different ways and that those differences are communicated through idiom and metaphor. He recognized that, though he could once speak Japanese or Latin, perhaps get by or even thrive in places that used those languages, he was not and could never “be” Japanese or Latin. He also loves witty turns of language, subtle puns and jokes which play with the words used in the jokes' construction instead of grandiose and hilarious observational humor in the vein of Patton Oswalt or Louis C.K.

Of course, they also discussed movies. Aside from his love of science-fiction. Cool Old Guy adores comedy, and is far more open to what falls under the potentially “good” umbrella than Fernando. He'll give anything a fair shake, even if it or they later turned out to be stinkers.

One afternoon, Cool Old Guy had just picked up a stack of five movies (one should also mention this man never returns anything late; instead he pays ahead for multiple nights) and is preparing to finalize his transaction when he suddenly says to Fernando, “You know, Gandhi was a really remarkable man.”

“Oh?” Fernando says. Perhaps Cool Old Guy had an amusing anecdote or observation involving the revered Indian activist and statesman.

“Well, he spent his entire life walking barefoot, not wearing sandals or shoes, so the soles of his feet became like leather. He wouldn't eat meat and lived entirely on eating greens...of course this left him kind of spindly and when you eat nothing but veggies your breath leaves a lot to be desired, but he did it because he held fast to his spiritual beliefs.”

The briefest of pauses, then: “I guess you could say he was a super-calloused, fragile mystic hexed with halitosis.”

Fernando blinks once, then twice more. “Oh. My.” More blinks. “Oh my.”

IDGAF if the pun has been around for ages and Cool Old Guy heard it somewhere else. It's the first Fernando had heard of it, and it made his fucking day.

Recap

Astute observers would have noticed that a dread case of schedule slip occurred this past Sunday. This is with good reason: Fernando was in no mood to upload a tale of dread, woe, or merriment, for he had been obligated over the previous days to participate in the wedding ceremony of his homeboy Iacobo. The Dominion's doors shut and, queerly enough, no one asked stupid questions of Fernando's reasons for closing up as they had the last time he took time for a mini-vacation.

The Dominion's back room had been chosen as the location for the bachelor party; debauchery could readily at-hand and the murderous Cellar Spiders, absolutely not to be confused with the benevolent above-ground Guardian Spiders, could handily dispose of any corpses which happened to be created in the course of festivities. Such things would bring Fernando no joy, as prey-juices would invigorate those troglodytic monsters, but good fortune was had: no one and nothing expired over the course of celebrating, which went on for roughly twelve hours. It was a smallish affair, as Fernando understands bachelor parties to go. Fernando and Iacobo were of course in attendance, as were Alfonso, Ronaldo, Cortez, Teodor, Bergeron, and Damien.

Catriona, by dint of possessing a vagina, had been forbidden attendance at this momentous event by her mother; rather, she was to giggle at the simultaneous bachelorette party over curiosities like penis-shaped ice or Cards Against Humanity. While this does sound as though it were a merry time, it lacked the defining feature of Fernando's shindig: impressive amounts of meat. During the party's course, eight or so pounds of animal flesh were consumed in brat and burger and hot dog form by the guests, notwithstanding the assortment of fixin's and appropriate side dishes accompanying this fare. One brat which tumbled into the coals was given over to Catriona as a burnt sacrifice, for she was ever in the guests' hearts, and the bottle of charcoal lighter fluid was emptied on that day. Ronaldo took the bratwurst eating contest prize, with eight consumed sausages. The reward in question? The right and obligation to eat the final remaining bratwurst of the initial three pounds.

One can file this one under “Phyrric victory.”

Once the sun finally set, prompting the moths and June bugs to initiate their rapacious nightlife, the action retreated indoors. Gifts were given to Iacobo, the sodding bastard, in whose name this travesty had been erected: dollar store insects (and a rat), a giant two-pound bag of peppered beef jerky, a single condom (for emergencies, one must understand), one bottle of the most delicious beer in all the world (that of the Schlenkerla), and a swanky hat which could perhaps be worn during the wedding ceremony or the off-the-hook reception, or even some other time if Iacobo felt the need.

At this juncture came the rolling of bones, though in fact little was accomplished upon the tabletop. Fernando, Iacobo, and his guests were quite fine with bullshitting for bullshit's sake over some cracked-open brews, reminiscing over adventures from days long past and portending adventures which were to come. 

Old Friends

 “I've been meaning to ask you,” a regular customer says to Fernando one day long ago, perhaps six months after he had taken on the mantle of Keeper. Fernando stiffens, because even by this point he realizes these words are rarely a prelude to something he wishes to experience.

“What's that?”

“Why's there a crab and octopus on top of your TV?”

Fernando looks over his shoulder into the office, where there are indeed a bathtoy crab and a bathtoy octopus resting atop the television. “Those are Crumbles and Octorok. They watch over the store when I'm not around.”

“Come on, really,” she insists.

“Well, if you must know, they were passed into my keeping. Neither of them is technically mine. They belong to some friends and are used to bless nerdish debauchary and so forth, and by that I mean they tend to be thrown around a lot. I actually don't think either of them have ever gotten wet, except for maybe via Pepsi or something.”

“Nerdish debauchary?”

“Dungeons and Dragons. Satan's game.” Fernando pauses for a moment. “Y'know, I'm still missing Kafka.”

“Kafka?”

“Yeah, he's a cockroach. I have no idea where he vanished to.”

Fernando's guest's face screws up in disgust. “They make cockroach bathtoys?”

“No, no. Kafka was actually from a cheap-ass dollar store magic trick package-toy-thing. I think one was supposed to be dexterous enough to make him a surprise. Practically that meant we would wait until someone turned his or her back and then we'd put Kafka in an obvious place.” Fernando's vision blurs as he retreats into the mists of time. “There was also an obviously fake pencil which never fooled anybody, but we still went along with it because why not.”

“Well, I hope you find your cockroach then.”

Alas, years later Kafka is still absent. Our little cockroach had grown into a strong, independent cockroach man. Maybe he settled down with a nice cockroach lady and birthed a brood of mini-Kafkas. Maybe he fell in with the wrong crowd, suffered a heroin overdose, and died alone and unmourned in a secluded alleyway.

Maybe, just maybe, he's still trying to find us, too. Godspeed, Kafka. Godspeed.

Restructuring

Hello. I am Nicolai Dobokov, taking over for Fernando Stevens. He is tied up at moment, secured in chair for own safety. Suffered nasty head blow. Am here as spokesman from Domain of Films to talk about recent restructuring done on thirty-first October.

Night before, on thirtieth, Nicolai, Vladimir, and Boris come into store late at night to rearrange aisles, create caves for children's movies and horror to better corral any capitalists if time comes to remove them. Other aisles rotated and spaced apart to make hourglass floorplan instead of previous aisles. Labor takes maybe forty minutes. Many husks of Defense Arachnids fall from between old shelves where could not be reached by Fernando.

Sleep happens, morning comes. Nicolai puts on fancy three-piece suit, adjusts tie, goes out into world to set things up. Heads on social media outlets to announce changes at Domain of Films but not too many changes. Also makes note that trick treats can be had for boy and girl American children and big pot of beef stroganoff has been prepared for adults.

Resnov arrives not long before opening, helps Nicolai put on finishing touches to grand reopening. Has stroganoff, says it is delicious. Of course it is delicious. Nicolai made it.

First customer of day is man returning movies rented night before. He enters Domain and Nicolai says, “Привет!”

Man looks at improved layout of store, looks at Nicolai, places movies on countertop and leaves. Does not even make chance for offer to eat stroganoff.

Little while later, phone rings. Nicolai looks at call identification, sees is woman customer in Fernando's logs. He picks up phone. “Hello?”

Woman hangs up. Okay.

Next person does not come in until after Resnov must leave for other obligation. Is affable older gentleman which Fernando reveals during question has told him stories of time in Korean Peninsula. Nicolai greets him same way as first man.

Second gentleman looks at Nicolai with surprise, then says, “Well howdy howdy. You're looking sharp today!”

“Am always sharp. Is job to look sharp. I am Nicolai Dobokov, managing supervisor of Domain of Films.” Nicolai extends hand and the two men shake.

“Managing supervisor, huh? Who are you managing for?”

“Elite organization. You are here for renting of movies?”

“Oh, you bet! Do you still have two-for-one today?”

“Is good plan from old owner, no need to terminate. Good way to retain custom.”

“Well, alright!” The old man goes out onto floor, searches through new labyrinth of shelves. Finds movie SuckerPunch. “This one looks racy.”

“Is not what cover shows. Not really, anyway. Actually has plot deeper than shallow pool.”

“The cover makes me think it's a bunch of fourteen year old girls bouncing around in schoolgirl outfits.”

“нет, is not so. You are thinking of different sort of films produced by Motherland. Are trying to crack down on distribution of those. Have standards in our work.”

Man rents that movie and three others. As Nicolai fills out rental slip, man lifts lid of crock pot full of stroganoff. “This smells delicious.”

“Is beef stroganoff. Help yourself if you like. Is what's there for.”

“Don't mind if I do!” The man fills small styrofoam bowl and takes bite with plastic fork. His face twists in ecstasy. “Oh my!”

“Is good?”

“Can I take a bowl of this home to my wife? She has to try this.”

“Absolutely. Can provide bags for you to try keep from spilling. Here, I tape second bowl over first too.”

Man leaves and things are happy. Then trick treat time starts and group of four adolescent American children come into store.

“Trick or treat!” they say all as one. They make double-take when they see Nicolai standing behind the counter, looking resplendent.

“I see good costumes. You are having candies? Take two, if like!”

“Wow, thanks!” They scrabble through Skittles and Milky Ways and Paydays. One young man notices pot of stroganoff. “What's that?”

“Beef stroganoff. Is delicious. You want some?”

He looks at pot longingly. “I'd like to, but my mom would kill me if she found out I ate strange food.” Boy in question is fourteen or fifteen years old. When interrogated in back room later, Fernando says he totally forgot that children in America are discouraged from eating unpackaged food during Halloween. In Russia, trick treats are bottles of vodka and if child dies from mercury poison, is God's work. Nicolai does not know this cultural difference. Fernando allowed to keep toenails as result of cooperation.

“Is sad times. How sneak razor blades into stroganoff? Would be obvious! Poison also bad idea because do not get return customers that way!”

Four young Americans laugh and leave. As they go, one girl in group says to other girl, “That guy is awesome!”

Да. Is truth.

More trick treaters come into store as time passes. Most of them look upon Nicolai with mixed awe and happiness, for they find accent endearing and stroganoff delicious. Group of three boys come in for trick treats dressed as Batmen and Jokers. One says to Nicolai, “Hey, can we rent all the Batman movies for free?”

“Hmm. Is worth considering. Let me think for moment on this. Meanwhile, have candy or stroganoff.” They do and more culinary joy is spread through Nicolai's cooking.

“This shit is amazing,” says Joker-boy.

“Thank you. Is nothing much.”

“How did you get it to taste so good?”

“Practice and skill. Nicolai has many talents. You need man killed? Am not so good at this, but can send word to Vladimir or Resnov. Payment is reasonable, satisfaction guaranteed.”

The three share uneasy look. “Um...we'll think about it.”

“Good. Should still be here when you decide.”

While this happens, Nicolai goes on social networking site now and again to post updates on glorious revolution at Domain of Film. Woman comments on one update with words of surprise: “What???? Who owns them now!?”

Nicolai responds in similar way as with older man from before. Other people who are fans of old Dominion comment as well. One girl by name of Luisa asks questions of Nicolai which are awkward for him to answer. He cannot say too much, else will experience question and answer session like Fernando in back room.

Other girl named Adonia expresses concern that customer base will find Domain of Films hard to remember if place called Dominion of Movies so long. Nicolai responds that conversion is simple, like sensible metric system instead of capitalist Imperial clusterfuck. Dominion of Movies becomes Domain of Films. If other group like Italian mafia or yakuza come in sometime, will probably rename place Realm of Videos.

Short while later, first woman from before responds again. Nicolai is not sure if serious because she claims to have known back-room Fernando “very well” and threatens Nicolai with “ppl” that she knows, then says Nicolai is unwelcome in town. Is very bad spelling and grammar. English Nicolai's second language, but what is woman's excuse? Nicolai does not understand this hostility! And why cannot civility happen? Civility more profitable than murder most times. Cannot make deals with dead men, only mail body parts to immediate family for intimidation factor. Also, Nicolai goes through Fernando's logs, learns that woman who claims to be best friends with man in back room has never been to store. Bizarre.

Close to end of night, two pretty girls come into Domain. Are wearing workout clothes like have just come from gym. Nicolai greets them in proper Russian way and they look at him and make mad giggle sounds. “Oh my god,” says one of them. “You're for real?”

“Am not imaginary, and have not drunk enough vodak for you to be imaginary either. Can help you find something?”

“Um...do you have The Hunger Games in?”

“Certainly. Have heard stories played of hunger games before. Good comrade once sent to gulag and forced to survive harsh Siberian winter eating twig-and-snowmelt stew cooked on cooling bodies of people who died night before. Came back changed man.”

Girls look at each other. Taller one of pair covers her mouth with hand and gasps, “Oh my god, you're amazing.”

“No, am Orthodox. You speak truth otherwise though. Would offer you stroganoff, but all eaten earlier. Is sad, because was very good.”

Tall girl laughs. “You should totally do this every day.”

These words confuse Nicolai no small bit. “I do. Is not like I am different person day to day. Have had discipline beaten into me with rusted iron rod since age of two. Sent out to woodshed once when four. Smart enough not to need second time there. Howling of wolf and bones from last child there taught me.”

Nicolai lets girls also take some trick treat candy. Are dressed up as people coming home from gym after all.

At closing time, Nicolai shuts blinds and locks door, then goes into back room to write this report to send to Motherland about feasibility of keeping grip on store. Hopefully will hear back soon.

До свидания!

Felis, Chiroptera, Video

A woman enters the Dominion one afternoon in early October. She immediately comes up to the counter. “Do you have that movie with Catwoman in it?”

“Which one?” Fernando replies. “The Dark Knight Rises isn't set to come out for a while yet, so I'm afraid I've only got Batman Returns and Catwoman with Halle Berry.”

“Either one of those will do. I'm dressing up as her for Halloween and I want to make sure I get the costume right.”

Hmm. Though the internet exists and there are a great overabundance of stills from assorted movies, cosplays, and so forth of assorted women portraying Catwoman, Fernando does not mention this source of answers to his customer, not yet. “Well, they have different costumes in each of them,” Fernando says. “It's a pity I don't have any of the old Adam West Batman here so you could see how they costumed Julie Newmar's Catwoman as well.”

“You have the other ones, though?”

“Absolutely.” Fernando rises and retrieves the two movies for the woman. He feels momentarily guilty that he is subjecting another living human being to Catwoman, but he shoves this ill-advised empathy away.

The transaction goes through without issue. “Thanks a lot,” she tells Fernando when she gathers her movies together. “I hope this will be good enough to show me how to do it.”

Now Fernando can be the good guy and impart upon her the boundless knowledge of the electronic sphere. “Well, if it isn't, you can always search online for ideas and maybe even, uh, fabric-cut out-guide-things.”

“Patterns?”

“Yep, that's probably the word I'm looking for, thanks. Catwoman's a fairly popular sort for ladies to cosplay as.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks for mentioning that, I never would have thought of it otherwise!”

“My pleasure. Best of luck in your costume endeavors.”

Whether these investigative efforts will have yielded fruit is a revelation only the future holds.

Solace in a Bottle

Fernando fancies himself something of an amateur culinary artist. He prepares his own meals and, when the mood strikes him, prepares his own beverages. These are usually not too terribly complicated because Fernando lacks the time or interest to craft intricate comestibles, but the ones he can make have gotten rave reviews.

Fernando decided to make some ginger ale from scratch one day and was about to sample the fruits of his labors at the Dominion. Fernando has little personal need for a wide variety of kitchenware and so his drinkware consists of a plastic water bottle and a mug for tea and coffee. Since he did not want yeasty sediment taking up residence in his water bottle nor the ginger ale to taste like the inside of his well-used mug, he filled one of the red, disposable plastic cups which were used to divide up drinks at gatherings in his back room. You know, the ones that are stereotypical frat party booze holders.

As he does this important work, he hears the chimes above the door jingle. Fernando exits out of the back room. “Hello,” he greets the customer, a young lady who is slightly taller than he is. She has already made her selection and waits patiently at the counter.

“Hi!” she answers. Fernando returns to his customary place behind the counter and sets his drink down atop it, where he hopes it cannot easily be spilled. “What do you have there?” she asks as he grabs a rental slip and starts filling it out.

“This?” Fernando taps the butt of his pen against the cup. “Ginger ale.”

She leans forward and peers at the cup's contents. “It doesn't look like any ginger ale I've ever seen.”

“Yeah, it's unfiltered.” Fernando picks up and swirls the cup. All the yeast and ginger bits swim about in their liquid home. “Though I should probably call it ginger beer since I fermented it for a couple of days, and I guess ginger ale is just carbonated water with ginger flavor added to it.”

The young lady smirks at Fernando. “So you're drinking on the job?”

“Technically. I'd have to drink gallons of this stuff before I felt anything resembling a buzz, though.”

“Ooooh, that's probably against the rules.”

“Actually, the boss is pretty okay with it. I bribe him with nice things and he usually lets me get away with all kinds of stuff here.”

The lady laughs and collects her movies. “Well, enjoy your drink!”

Fernando sketches a quick bow. “Enjoy your movies!”

Ah, the refreshing taste of success.

Years of Our Lives

Fernando posts a sign and makes a small change to his ad in the local advertiser. It reads that the Dominion will be closed one Saturday in July. Because people cannot be arsed to read things, he also mentions this fact to all the people who enter the store the Friday before and lets them know they don't have to bring the movies they rent back until Sunday.

One of them, a younger lady around the age of twenty, asks Fernando, “Why are you closing up?”

“I have a social obligation I must attend.”

“Oh, got a hot date?”

“Kind of. Class reunion.”

“Oh, cool! I can't believe it's been twenty years already for you!”

Fernando looks at the young lady. His mouth may have hung open a tad from the shock. “Actually, it's my tenth. I'm not that old.”

“Well, you own your own business.”

“And?”

“Everybody else around here who does that is old!”

The young lady speaks the absolute truth, but Fernando snaps back, “That's about the finest example of a fallacy of induction that I've ever encountered.”

The next day arrived as is usually the case and Fernando enjoyed his fourth day off of the year. Less than half his class showed up at the reunion but the ones who did proved rollicking, and it was nice speaking with some of the people whom Fernando had not seen since they huddled in a sweaty, impatient mass at their graduation ceremony held in a gymnasium that had not ever considered adhering to the rules governing convection of gases. Fernando may or may not have imbibed an assortment of alcoholic drinks of varying natures and qualities.

About eight hours after the gathering started it petered out. By ones and twos the attendees vanished to parts unknown, fissioning off to pursue their own lives and accomplishing what they deemed necessary, much as had happened a decade prior when everyone made some of the choices which led them to where they are now. Fernando was, of course, among them, for the Dominion does not police itself. It is like a newborn infant in that sense, except instead of having to clean up meconium he deals with the general public.

For instance, when he meandered back inside the Dominion's loving embrace, he saw someone had deposited a movie from Family Video in the drop box. Ah, life.

Subversion

A guy comes down to rent Act of Valor. It is Monday, a rent-one-get-one day, but he does not select a second film. “Hey, can I just have this one for two nights since I'm not getting another movie today?” he asks.

Strangely enough, this is the first time this request has been made of Fernando in all his tenure as Keeper of the Dominion. Even more strangely, it is entirely reasonable. “Sure thing. You're actually the first person to ever bring that up to me.” So the deal was struck, the return date was incremented by one, and both parties were content.

What, you expected something horrible to happen?

Fernando's Adventure: Part 6

After dinner, Alfonso rendezvoused with Andrés for cigarettes. Fernando and Ronaldo retired to the games room, where Chess Guy and Chess Kid lurked as they always do. More games of Siamese-style chess were had and the two smokers joined in eventually. Such things were a way to pass the time, nothing more. The real reason for camping the place was the Munchkin tournament that was to begin at 11 PM.

Other people began to filter in starting at about 9, crowding the room and camping the hallway outside. One of them was a lanky man with long hair whose goth/emo/whatever-dressed girlfriend at one point apparently opted for a procedure that surgically melded the two together. Wondertwins never physically separated. When they stood in the hallway, she draped her arm and leg about his front and Fernando couldn't help but be reminded of Zalera, the Angel of Death. When Wondertwins sat down for a game of chess at the behest of Chess Guy (quite probably because he didn't want to deal with Chess Kid any longer), he spun the chair around so the female half could straddle it behind him, whereupon she wrapped her arms and legs around his shoulders and torso like a vast tentacled beast from the deeps that had just seized its prey.

Fernando and Ronaldo took a detour to wander the halls and escape the cloying public display of sentimentalism. They decided to check out the band that was playing in another room, a self-labeled “murdercore” performance troupe. About twelve or so people, eleven of which were female, with the last one an awkward-looking guy standing off to one side, comprised the audience.

Now, Fernando's not all that well-versed in popular music and the various -cores that exist within it, but one would think that by appending the affix “murder-” to “-core,” it would feature a style and theme somewhat similar to death metal, with which Fernando does have passing experience thanks to upstanding gentlemen like Former College Roommate Nataniel and the brave music battles he waged against the dread forces of Generic College Dorm Rap Music. Namely, a lot of guttural growling, fervent guitar riffs, and lyrical content which explores topics like stylized violence or existential nihilism.

Instead, the performance was milquetoast punk. The particular song being performed when the pair popped in was about being yourself despite other people's judgments. A laudable topic, sure, but not really deserving of the label “murdercore.”

Fernando is, however, forced to admit that this band was infinitely better than the drum circle which followed.

The overseer for the Munchkin tournament showed up about twenty minutes after 10 and announced that the tournament's start would be delayed until 11:30. What is it with people and their incapability of adhering to a schedule? The room was cleared and the cluster of nerds now filled the hallway. Fernando stood and swapped more D&D stories with Andrés. Alfonso and Ronaldo joined in for a while, but then went off on their own. Fernando assumed at the time it was solely for a food run, but a plot was hatched and Fernando would only grow aware of it after everything from the evening had played out.

At long last, the tournament began. Alfonso, Ronaldo, Fernando, and Andrés made a pact with one another stating that it was better that one of us win than none of us. The three travelers had only known Andrés for less than two days, but the stranger had wormed his way into their hearts and they would all be okay with him coming away a winner.

An epic spread lay on the three dining room-sized tables: roughly $1500 in Munchkin cards: every base set, nearly every expansion, summing untold thousands of tiny paper rectangles. Overseer Oman laid out the rules, the first and foremost of which was, “There will under no circumstances be any drinks on the tables. If there are drinks on the tables, they will spill, and if they spill, they will get on cards, and if they get on cards, you will be replacing them.”

Winning was determined in the usual Munchkin way: the first person to reach level 10 wins that table. The two winners of the respective tables would square off at the third table for the vaunted Level 11. The table winners would receive a $10 gift certificate to Misty Mountain Games. The loser at the third table would win an additional $50 certificate to the game store and copy of the newest expansion for Munchkin Zombies, autographed by John Kovalic.

First prize was a drawing-slash-card by John Kovalic that would become tournament-legal if Steve Jackson, the genius designer behind the game, affixed his signature to it.

The fifteen competitors were split into two tables, one of eight and one of seven. Fernando found himself divided from his comrades, for Alfonso, Ronaldo, and Andrés were clustered at the other table, along with Chess Guy, last year's champion, a father-son pair, and a teenaged boy. Fernando was stuck with Wondertwins (even now, inseparable, though the female half was not playing) and five other people he'd never seen or met before. The youngest player at Fernando's table was a girl aged maybe twelve or thirteen.

Let the game begin! As Fernando only had real experience with the base set and Munchkin Cthulhu, it is from those decks that he drew most of his cards. Play progressed as it usually does in that game and oh yeah Fernando got eaten by Cthulhu on his third turn because WHY NOT. All fourteen other competitors got to go up a level based on Overseer Oman's ruling of the card's text, and the text-mandated mockery of Fernando's horrible fortune by the other players only rubbed more salt in that wound.

Nothing of interest happened at Fernando's table aside from his consumption by the Great Old One. The other table, though, suffered much drama and trauma. Not long after Fernando's death, a booming howl erupted from that side of the room, rife with indignation and accusation. “I have a right to see what that card does because it is public knowledge! Turn...it...OVER!”

Everything stopped. Heads turned and the sight was awesome and frightening to behold. A man had shed his mortal trappings, unleashing his full potential. Stress and a personal vendetta against Reigning Champ had forced Chess Guy to metamorphose into Sir Dicks-A-Lot, for last year it had come down to Champ and Sir Dicks-A-Lot in the finals, and it all had hinged on a judge's decision.

Oh, it was on now.

Not long thereafter, Overseer Oman gave a ghastly cry of abject torment. “NNNNOOOOOOO!”

The dread prediction had come true. Waterboy had placed his cup of refreshment on the table and Murphy's Law had been invoked. Ronaldo's in-play cards swam in a clear liquid which the world hoped was water and not Sierra Mist. The boy slunk out and Ronaldo lamented that his apparently awesome steamroll had been forestalled by the vagaries of fate.

Long story short, Fernando won his table because everybody thought he was out of the game for the longest time, so he hoarded his power and wealth and came from far behind, leveling from 6 to 10 in a single turn, and the other people at the table could do nothing about it because they had burnt all their cards on the other people on the edge of winning. Fernando had his gift certificate in his possession for only a short while, though, as the other players at his table (except for Wondertwins, who skedaddled immediately after Fernando's victory; and Little Gamer Girl who never saw it coming) clustered up and unanimously agreed to approach Fernando about giving the card to Little Gamer Girl, who had been a simply phenomenal sport about everything.

This seemed like a good idea to Fernando, so everyone left the room to chase her down. Anywhere but a gaming convention five grown men hustling after a pubescent girl would set off all kinds of red flags, but everyone caught up to her and the card was transferred with pomp and ceremony, and even though she rejected it the first time, Fernando insisted. Cheers, Little Gamer Girl!

He spent the next hour standing in the corner of the room near the third table as the other table finished.

It all came down to Team Dad versus Sir Dicks-A-Lot. Ronaldo was still a viable win, but he had put most everything towards helping Alfonso make a mad dash to victory which proved fruitless and left Fernando's brother out the running. Andrés, sadly, never really got any momentum going due to horrid draw luck. Reigning Champ was kept down all game by Sir Dicks-A-Lot, and so Reigning Champ spent his time and energy fucking with everyone equally.

Team Dad had just barely been thwarted on the father's turn. His son did everything in power to ensure Dad's win, but it was only through concentrated effort from everyone else that he did not move on to the finals. Next up was Ronaldo, who was not in a position to win and drew no cards that could help ensure a win. Following him was Sir Dicks-A-Lot. Fernando heard him ask Ronaldo, “Does our agreement still stand?”

Wait what now?

Sir Dicks-A-Lot then powerleveled from 8 to 10 in one fell swoop, slaying a monster he played from his hand while Ronaldo helped him. Wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued from all the other players at the table except Ronaldo, who had something of a smug look on his face.

In exchange for his assistance, Ronaldo received the gift card that Sir Dicks-A-Lot would otherwise have won. Furthermore, he had nothing to bring to the winner's circle, while Fernando still had something resembling an arsenal in his hand and equipped to his character. He knew this, and so he approached Fernando with a proposition: to split the winnings evenly. Half of the $50 gift card would go to Fernando, the other half to Sir Dicks-A-Lot. They would sojourn to the game store tomorrow to split the winnings. Fernando would also have first pick of either the drawing or the Munchkin expansion.

His reasoning was as follows: “Better for both of us to get something than for one of us to get nothing.”

O...okay. Fernando would have been just fine with the picture alone. Now he has $25 in gift certificate money out of it as well, on top of the $10 of Ronaldo's.

So Fernando took the picture. Muchkin expansion boxes are small and easily crumpled and why does he need another copy of John Kovalic's signature when he has the two on his Munchkin boxes and the half-tourney-legal card?

Overseer Oman was okay with this proposal, since it was after 3 AM by this point and he just wanted to go to bed. However, the tournament rules stipulated that the winner of the tournament would be granted ownership of the picture. Since Fernando now had ownership of the picture, Overseer Oman was forced to conclude that Fernando technically had won the tournament.

Fuck yeah.

Success!

A man and his girlfriend enter the store one afternoon. They come up to the counter looking somewhat awkward. “Hi, we just moved into the area and you guys are like the only store around. How does it work to rent from you guys? Do I need to set up an account or something?”

Fernando says, “Yeah, but that process is quick and painless. Let me grab an application for you guys.” He does so and the new man looks it over.

“Uh, we can come back some other time then to fill this all out because I don't have the address memorized or anything.”

“Well, if you guys can fill in everything else then it's really no problem. Except the credit card info, there. I don't need that from you. Really, if you've got your license on you, we can fill in whatever we have and go from there. It's no problem.”

“Really? That's cool of you.” He sets to work while his girlfriend browses. As he writes, the stranger makes small talk, “So do you work here, or...?”

“Actually, I'm the Keeper of this Dominion. Fernando H. Stevens.” Fernando hands over one of his business cards and extends his hand. The gent's handshake is a weak one, but oh well.

They have since rented a number of movies and proved to be quite trustworthy customers. Hooray!

God Bless

-Ring ring ring- goes the phone one Saturday afternoon.

“Hello, Dominion of Movies.”

“Hi, this is France Zip-Bag. I'm calling from Zail-Kanzin Church and I was wondering if you had a movie.”

“Which one would that be?”

“Letters to God. We were showing it today for our parishioners but we've misplaced our copy.”

“I should have it around here somewhere. Let me check right quick for you.” Fernando heads out into the store and scans the shelves for the DVD case. It is nowhere to be found. “Well, the case isn't on the rack out here where it should be but I know I've got it.” He returns into the office and searches the shelves back there. “Nineteen-twenty-three...twenty-three...there we are! Yeah, got it right here.”

“Great. We'll be down in two minutes to pick it up.”

Zail-Kanzin is maybe a seven, eight minute drive to the south from Saladolsa, but it turns out Mr. Zip-Bag was not fibbing. A vehicle pulls in from the north side of the highway. A women climbs out and enters the store. “Hello!” Fernando greets her.

She appears flustered. “Hi. Um, I'm looking for Letters to God. I just got a phone call asking for me to pick it up for a thing we're putting on down at Zail-Kanzin Church.”

“I've got it right here.” Fernando does one of the things which he does best and the woman is sent back on her way with grace and efficiency.

“You're a lifesaver. God bless you!” she says as she leaves.

I feel like I got a ring of Wish with a single charge and I don't want to squander it....

Rulebender

Sunday morning, a man comes to the store and rents a couple of kids' movies. Slip is filled out, he pays, all is well. Fernando still has some of his weekend popcorn in stock and he asks the gent if he would like a bag (or the receipt, but this man is aware of how language works).

“Yeah, sure,” says the customer. After a pause, “Could I have two? My son is having a birthday party today and....” He trails off as if embarrassed to conclude his request.

“Well, generally you only get the one bag....” begins Fernando, and his words make the man's expression one of disappointment.

“...but since popcorn is 'Friday, Saturday, and Sunday long as it lasts,' and I have leftovers, I don't see why I can't get rid of two bags here and now.” And he hands over the two bags to the man whose face lights up like the dawn.

“Oh wow, thanks!” says the customer as he goes on his way, visibly enheartened.

Happy birthday, random child I probably don't know!

Nostalgia Trip

A nice-looking woman of maybe thirty enters the Dominion one Saturday afternoon with two children in tow. She comes up to the counter and says, “You know, I can't believe this place is still here.”

“Still here?” asks Fernando as he wracks his memory in search of her identity. He draws a blank.

“Yeah. I would have thought it would have closed by now. I used to work here years and years ago.”

“Oh?” asks Fernando. “When was this?”

“Back in the late '80s, early '90s.” She looks over her shoulder at some of the rental racks. “Wow, I can't believe you still have VHS tapes here.”

“Yeah, that's something I've been trying to remedy. Weirdly enough, people rent the VHS tapes but they never buy them.”

“So who owns this place now?” she asks.

“That would be me,” says Fernando, and he hands her a business card.

She glances over it for a moment, then looks up. “Stevens....are you related to Celes Stevens?”

“Indeed I am. That's my aunt.”

“She went to high school with me! Well, not with me. She was a few years older than me.” Then she suddenly leans over the counter and peers at a magnet on Fernando's filing cabinet. “You went to CMU?”

“Class of '06.”

“So did I! Where did you live?”

“Trout.”

“No kidding! I started in Troutman, then moved to Washington Village! You know where that is?”

“Well, yeah. When I used to head downtown we'd walk right past them. I'm pretty sure I went to a few parties in that vicinity as well.”

She laughs. “Only pretty sure?”

“Well, they wouldn't have been very good parties otherwise,” Fernando says with a small grin.

Then she asks, “Can I ask you a favor?”

“I don't see why not.”

“I'm up here from downstate visiting my family with my kids and I have my camera in the car. Could you take a picture of me standing in front of the store?”

“Absolutely I can.”

So Fernando heads outside to help the nice lady relive and remember her past. The picture turns out quite satisfactory, so she thanks him, piles the kids into her minivan, and heads out of Fernando's life forever.

But the world had been made a happier place through Fernando's actions on that day, so it was okay.

Five. Five Dollar. Five Dollar Rental.

One Saturday not long after opening a pair of women enter the store.

“Excuse me,” one says to Fernando, “But I'm looking for a movie that I saw advertised once a while back...it has, oh, Annette Benning in it and it's called...called...something about kids.”

“The Kids Are All Right? I've got that one right over here,” responds Fernando, who leads the duo to the movie's hiding place.

“Oh, thank you so much!” says the woman, who plucks the tag. Fernando returns to his chair while the two women browse the new release rack for a bit longer before coming to the counter.

Fernando goes about filling out the rental slip while one of them digs through a purse for money. “It's $3.50,” he says.

“What?” says the other woman. “Why only $3.50?”

“Well, uh, it's a new release, so it's $3.50.”

“But the sign says $5.”

“Sign? Wait, no, no, no, no. That's for two nights. If you wanted to rent the new release for two nights. Then it's $5; $1.50 for the extra night. For a single night it's just $3.50.” And then, in a burst of halfhearted salesmanship and squeezing an extra buck and a half out of a not-very-strong renter, “You didn't want it for two nights, did you?”

“No, no, one night is fine. Wow, it says right there 'two nights.' I don't know how we missed that.”

“No problem. These things happen,” responds Fernando. So the proper amount of money on this rental is exchanged and the two women came away from the store much happier than upon entering it. And Fernando returns to his chair.

If Only It Worked This Well With the Ladies

An elderly gentleman comes into the store to drop off some movies for someone else. As he turns to leave, Nature decides to do Fernando a huge favor and it begins to downpour something fiercely. The man scratches his cheek before turning to Fernando and saying, “Well, this weather's no good for anything. What kinds o' action flicks ya got?”

So Fernando comes out from behind the counter and begins leading the man on a perusal of the store, pointing out this and that new release that falls under the category. The man finds three or four titles that interest him but he eventually settles on the Clash of the Titans remake, mentioning the fact that he's heard good things but isn't sure that he'd like it because it's not the “right kind” of action.

“Well,” says Fernando, “it's crappy weather, and I've heard it's going to be crap tomorrow, so you may as well pick out something else in case this one's not up to snuff. What kind of action were you going for?”

Fernando quizzes the man on his movie likes and the man mentions having enjoyed the Matrix movies and is a fan of Nicolas Cage. And the perusal of the store continues, and the man has a number of other, different-action, titles pointed out to him.

“I've got something by the guys who did The Matrix here—Ninja Assassin. It's not The Matrix, obviously, but it's a very similar style of action filming.”

“Lots of this, then?” The man pantomimes bullet time asskickery.

“Yeppers.”

“Sounds good.” And the man selected that movie as well.

“As for Nic Cage....” Fernando says, guiding the man to the older releases, “He hasn't really had anything brand-new come out based on what you like recently. But this one, Bangkok Dangerous, came out about, eh, two, two and a half years ago. He's a hitman. Solid and action-packed.”

“Never heard of it, but I've been to Thailand a couple times, back in 'Nam,” the gentleman replies, but Nicolas Cage is on the cover and any arguments he may have wanted to put forth are invalid. He selects that one too.

As Fernando begins filling out the rental slip, the man asks Fernando his name and Fernando gladly gives it to him along with a business card, and the man says he'll probably be in tomorrow to rent again for he found Fernando to be quite personable and informative. Thus did Fernando add another regular customer to his fold and receive warm fuzzies for the day.

A Happy Halloween Tale

One of Fernando's most regular of customers comes in one day in October and asks if he has the documentary An Inconvenient Truth. She is a teacher, and her science class was studying global warming, and she felt it would be a helpful educational tool in discussion on the topic. Fernando agreed with her and allowed her to borrow the movie free of charge, as Fernando is an ardent believer in lifelong education and “paying it forward” to the next generation.

About a week later said customer returns to the store carrying a large piece of posterboard. Fernando is intrigued by this, as customers do not usually bring along pieces of posterboard when they come a-renting. But, lo, this piece of posterboard was a large, approximately two-and­-a-half by one-and-a-half foot card from her entire class reading, “Thank you, Mr. Ferny (they did not want to deal with the hassle of how to spell Fernando's last name)! The movie helped us learn about global warming and what we can do to help the earth.” and with a veritable phone book of names on the card's inside.

Fernando pinned it to the wall of his store and it now proudly gazes down upon his Dominion.