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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Aardvark

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Stephen? You want to know about Stephen? Well, let me tell you all about Stephen. Oh, you'll love this. Great guy, really great guy. Smart, funny, looks that made men jealous and turned women into puddles of warm goo. Totally unpredictable, a touch insane, but most people loved him. And the few that didn't just don't count. They're all boring old bastards or so twisted by jealousy that they can't get past the fact that he's simply better than them.

 

I grew up with him. We went to the same schools all the way up to Uni. Then he got accepted in Welton Academy, while I went off to Hackmore Tech. As a child, he was a destructive little menace. Always playing tricks and pranks on people. Most of his early school days were spent in detention for a prank gone too far. But they never hurt anyone, unless the victim asked for it. And for them to ask for it, they'd have to do something truely evil. Like kick Stephen's dog or something. That kind of evil. But he didn't discriminate. Everyone was fair game for him. Students, teachers, parents alike. Which explained the detentions.

 

In Highschool, the pranks continued, toned down though. He put his head down and began to study. But never for more than ten minutes at a time. Never achieving outstanding results, but avoiding lingering down the bottom of the scale, with all the dumbarses. His best subject was english. Being the creative, argumentative person he is, he joined the debating team. Didn't last long. Formal stucture was too much for him. But it was creative writing where he really shined. Turning that overactive imagination onto paper, he was able to create stories, tales, poems and other pieces of literature that could capture the imagination, belt it 'round a bit, then stuff it back in your head without you even noticing. Oh, he was good. Entered several comps, always came near the top, even taking out the regional's back in... I think it was grade ten, I can't remember too well.

 

Uni we went seperate ways, as I've said, but we kept in touch, often teaming up on friday nights for an alcohol-soaked adventure across the cityDuring his uni years, he had no less than fourteen different jobs. He went from delivery driver to window washer to night security. Longest stretch was 2 months and that was the delivery job. And only because he was getting free pizzas. He couldn't stand working, but kept on trying, because he, as everyone does, needed the money. His last job, the one he sort of still has, was as a junior article writer for a magazine. He finally decided to cash in on his writing talents. At first he was only meant to write small filler pieces, but these became the most popular articles in the magazine. Soon he was raking in the dough, hand over fist, as the magazine's publishers had him writing for a whole range of magazines. And he was never short of inspiration. He could pump them out at a rate of knots.

 

End of uni, he had his lit degree and had no idea what to do. The publishing company offered him a position as an editor by this point. Which he admitted was good, because he was running out of ideas. He's still there, ten years on.

 

He was the one who most suprised me. I'd always pictured him doing something big, becomming something famous. After knowing him my whole life, I'd never asked him once what he'd wanted to do with his life. And he seemed to have done nothing. Now, you know me, I'm not one for wasting opportunities, so I asked him, the other day, I go up to him and say

 

"Oi, mate. What do you wanna do with your life?"

 

"Isn't that a little too personal, man?"

 

"Fair enough..."

 

"Nah, 'tis ok. Here, read this."

 

He gave me a disk. Not your usual average media for explaining something to people and not the sort of thing I'd be carrying around. When I did find out what was on it, I was even more suprised. Not only did he have a disk on him, it had the answer to the question I'd just asked. He must get that a lot.

 

I whacked it in my computer, opened it and found a document entitled "I strive for medocrity."

 

The contents confirmed the title. All he wanted from life was a wife, two kids, a house in the middle of suburbia and a comfortable nest egg to retire on. He was the most unique individual I'd ever met and all he wanted was that.

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