“In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”

-Malvalio (from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night)

-

*BWEEEEE BWEEEEE BWEEEE*

Michaels phone rang out like a siren as it got an alert. He rolled his eyes as he slipped it out of the pocket of his shorts.

Emergency Alert

BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER, THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

He clicked his tongue as he looked down at his phone. He felt a chill run up his spine, but shook it off. “Already paid the deposit,” he muttered, “After everything there's no way I'm going to bail over one little phone alert.” His mind raced to justify his decision. “Yeah, yeah. Probably just another false alarm. Someone probably just pushed the wrong button. Or maybe someone hacked the system. Could be a million things, and nuclear war is the least likely.”

The elderly couple in front of him in the line seemed to have similar thoughts since they walked up to the counter instead of heading to any shelter. They must have known exactly what they wanted since they were walking away in less than a minute. They giggled and strolled off arm in arm. As Michael walked up he was surprised to see the guy at the counter looking anxiously at his phone.

“Hey there!” Michael said cheerily as he leaned on the counter. “I reserved that high tech jet ski online. It should be under Michael.”

“Hey, uhh, you got the alert too right?” gulped the attendant as he stared down at his phone. “Shouldn’t you be heading to a shelter or something?”

“Yeah, I’m just visiting the city. Wouldn’t know where one was even if I thought it was real,” scoffed Michael.

“Real? But it’s an official alert! It has to be real!” Said the attendant as he got more frazzled.

Michael rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sighed. “Come on man, this isn’t the first fake alert, and trons of people have threatened to send this out before.” He waved his hand back and forth as if the attendant’s concerns were nothing but wisps of smoke in the air, and the simple motion would brush them away. “Now come on, I want to get out there on the water while it’s still sunny. Besides, if you’re so worried why aren’t you heading to a shelter?”

The attendant slammed his head down on the counter. Luckily Michael pulled his arm back in time to keep it from being hit. “Can’t,” he mumbled as his mouth pressed against the wooden counter.

Michael was getting irritated. He wanted to grab the attendant by the collar and scream and holler until he finally got his jet ski and could go enjoy his day, but he had some restraint still so he simply stood there and asked, “Well why not?”

The attendant slumped his head over to the side as he splayed his arms forward to droop off of the edge of the counter towards Michael. “I need the job. Boss said if I leave in the middle of my shift again I’m fired.” With that short explanation he seemed content to turn his head back face down on the counter.

Michael’s eye twitched slightly as he forced a smile. “Well if you can’t leave, why don’t you help me get my jet ski.”

Finally the attendant stretched back, as if pulled by strings into a standing position again. His head drooping he looked over at the computer. “Fine…” he groaned. “It was under Michael, right?”

“Right.”

“Let’s see…” the attendant started typing as he scanned the screen. Then he started to look a little pale. “So, uh…you sure you don’t want to run to shelter? It seems. I uhh think…I mean, my sister is really hot, and I’m sure she’ll be there. I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d go check on her.”

Michael crossed his arms, sighed, and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Look. I don’t care about your sister, no matter how hot she is. I just want to have fun on a high tech jet ski, alone. Got it?”

The attendant seemed a lot more alert now. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I mean. I…”

“Just give me the keys, or tell me what’s going on already!”

“Well it’s about your reservation.”

“Come on, spit it out already!”

The attendant gulped. “The Kawabunga Jet Ski Ultra Deluxe S9R Triple Threat Edition TM have all been rented out already…”

Michael’s eye started to twitch again. “I reserved it. Do you even know how reservations work? I thought it was supposed to stay here at the ready until I came and picked it up?”

“Look, I’m sure we can work out something.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“Well…” said the attendant with a pause as he tapped his fingers on the counter. Suddenly he perked up. “Ah, I know! How about an upgrade? Sure a Jet Ski is nice, but what about a top of the line DUKW Amphibious Military Vehicle, commonly called a Duck Boat. It’s top of the line in land to sea vehicles, and it even comes with six wheel drive. Easy to drive, and with their GMC 270 engine they’re much more powerful than a tiny Jet Ski.”

Michael sighed. “Yeah, fine whatever. I’ll take it.” He held his hand out awaiting the keys.” It’s better than nothing right.”

The attendant let out a relieved sigh and nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely! Besides, you’re going to have trouble going back to something so tiny after handling one of these monsters. Trust me.”

“Yeah. Fine. Sure. Just give me the keys.”

“Oh right! Yeah, right away.”

The attendant scrambled along the wall, rooting through various keys. Then he seemed to have an epiphany and opened the desk drawer. It was full of things crafted from hours of sheer boredom and an abundance of office supplies. Inside was a broken stapler, a chain made of hundreds of paperclips, a man made of staples, a rubberband ball, an eraser with pins in it making it look like a pig, and even a faded, tiny rubber duck. The attendant grabbed the rubber duck and pulled with all his might. The drawer lifted up as he pulled and the wood groaned as it strained against him.

Finally it gave way. He flung himself back and stumbled onto the ground as a tangled mess of keychains and keys fell from his hand. He snatched the tangled mess and brushed himself off. “Phew. That was harder to get to than I remembered.”

Michael stared at him and tried to suppress his fury. “Top of the line my ass,” he muttered under his breath.

“Alright, here you go!” the attendant said with a smile as he set the keys down on the counter and started to type on the computer. He was either unaware or ignoring Michael’s frustration. “It’s painted red. Now, it may be a little faded, but trust me it’s in prime form.” He coughed and made sure to look away from Michael. “And uh, if it has trouble getting going, just kick the middle console a bit, and it’ll get going.”

Michael wanted to scream. This was supposed to be a high tech, top of the line ride. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided it was pointless and shut it immediately. He silently swiped the keys off of the counter and started to walk away.

“Remember, It has to be back by eight ‘o clock tonight.”

Michael was already walking away. His cheerful voice was grating on his last nerve. “Look on the bright side,” he reassured himself. “It’ll still just be me and the open sea, far away from that guy.”

Michael almost marched back to yell at the attendant when he saw the Duck Boat. Along the side, in faded paint it said, “Lil Ducky,” and in pretty much every way, it was an ancient piece of junk. Rust, stains, chipping yellow paint, bare thread tires, dents, tears in the roof, and a million other small inconveniences showing how poorly treated and maintained it had been for decades. It looked like it had been sitting there since the 50’s and was better suited to sitting in a museum as an homage to an era long gone. But with a sigh, he decided it wasn’t worth it. Going back was just going to get him even more upset, and he’d end up with just a refund at best.

-

“You know, this actually isn’t so bad once you get it going,” chuckled Michael as the Lil Ducky sputtered and skipped through the water. “Not the smoothest ride, but it’s nice being alone.”

Michael took in a deep breath of the salty air as he glanced around. Oddly enough there weren’t any other boats around. “Well, at least no one will think I’m weird for talking to myself.” He mumbled before hearing a deep thumping sound far behind him.

As he turned to look, he saw a massive mushroom cloud rising from the shore, followed shortly by dozens more far behind the first. Luckily he had on his tactical “10,000% UV protection” sunglasses, as he saw the bright flashes pepper the shore one after another before climbing up into the sky as a forest of ominous mushroom clouds.

“Well…I hope that boat rental job was worth it.”