I wish I would've known about this sooner.

This game is next to impossible. I defy you to complete a loop where the rider doesn't fall off. I did it. You try. Losers!

Mr. Publix/ Jonathan Bourque

Jonathan sat outside the art room at lunch time on Friday. Here was where "Warriors for Christ/ First Priority" met. He sometimes enjoyed being there, and today it was pretty good too. He was talking to a kid on the varsity football team who showed up there every Friday. The kid (whose name Jonathan never got) had asked him where he went to church. Jonathan paused, trying to find a way to answer that question without having to explain himself later.
"I'm here, right now." he said.
The football player paused for a while and said, "Yeah, I gotchya, that's pretty cool, man. Alright."
Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. The bell rang to end the lunch period, and he went on to complete the school day.
When Jonathan got home, he had a mission: to dress as his if-it-wasn't-for-God-then-would-be-worthless-alter-ego/ not-so-heroic-superhero a.k.a. Mr. Publix. Easier stated, he had to go to work.
Later in the work day, Mr. Publix got into a conversation with a regular church-goer who made the slight folley/ beneficial action of asking him where he went to church.
"I'm here, right now." He said remembering what Jonathan had said earlier.
The woman looked at him and said "At Publix?!"
:(

Halo: The Future of Gaming

The thing is, I'm not so sure this is impossible.

Mr. Publix vs. the "Shark"

Mr. Publix was tired. He had just woken up, and was working at 7:00 on a Saturday morning. He tried his best to keep a good attitude, and at the moment, it was working. That changed soon. A short, old, round man stepped into the room, with a plastic, but maniacal smile. He went into the break room to punch in. He came back out of the break room with a Miami Dolphin's shirt on, and still wearing that smile.
He went to a superior, and she gave him an assignment. He began to take plastic bags from boxes, and store them in plastic bins underneath the bagger platform at the end of the check-out aisle. He looked over at Mr. Publix, and read his name tag aloud.
"Mr. Publix, would you take these and put them in the bins?"
Mr. Publix looked over at the man, and politely did the job the best he could, not denying the man a favor. Suddenly the man sounded angry.
"No, no." He walked over to Mr. Publix, and told him how to do it.
Mr. Publix did his best, and this time with some more knowledge on the task at hand. However, no matter how Mr. Publix did the job, he couldn't do it right for this man. Mr. Publix stopped doing the job, and waited for the man to walk somewhere else. He looked over at an agent only one rank above him. A rank labeled "cashier." Her name was Veronica.
Mr. Publix leaned over the counter, and asked. "What is that guy's name, and what is his rank?"
Veronica looked at Mr. Publix, and said "We call him the 'Shark.' He's just a bagger like you. He picks on the new people, trying to get them to do jobs his superior asks him to do. Don't take orders from him. He's as much of a rat as he is a shark as well. If he sees you do something wrong, he'll run right to Andy, and tell him. Don't do what he tells you. He is not your superior. The only reason we keep him is because he can wear that smile all day to make our customers feel welcome."
Drat! Just when Mr. Publix thought all employees were good. That fantasy just had to be ruined, didn't it? Now Mr. Publix was perplexed. He had had trouble with this "Shark" guy before. This was not the first time. How to handle it though? At first, Mr. Publix thought he should heroically punch the old man in the jaw. After all, the "Shark" could end up a worse nemesis than that runaway shopping cart. He suddenly realized that an action so cruel as that would not be so heroic. He also realized that the "Shark" was not his enemy. The pain and laziness the "Shark" harbored was his worst enemy. That's right, even worse than cart. He knew from his readings of the Bible that the only thing that can cure him of that is God's grace. The only way for humans to make a man open to seeing God's grace is to be "...wise as a serpent, and gentle as a dove..." Act just as Jesus would. That would require a lot of heroic effort. With God's help, Mr. Publix can do it. He can cure the "Shark."

Mr. Publix Mission No. 1

For the grocery store, it was a high-speed chase. Mr. Publix dashed at a runaway shopping cart, his arch nemeses, at a record fifteen miles per hour. It was too fast. It slammed into the curb at the end of the parking lot. He lunged for it, but was pulled back by a commanding voice resounding over the parking lot.
It was Donna, an old-timer agent at Publix. She knew the tricks of the trade, and knew how to pick off the baddies. Mr. Publix looked at the shopping cart, and shouted heroically
"We're not through with this battle, fiend!" He then walked coolly over to his superior.
"You're going under cover." said Donna. "Flip your apron over your head so the people at the counter can't see it."
Mr. Publix followed the order.
"Now, do you have a dollar?"
Mr. Publix reached into his pocket, and grabbed a dollar. "What do you need me to do?" he asked discretely.
"See Andy? He's our man inside. Meet with him at the checkpoint at the front counter. I need you to then offer the man behind the counter a dollar bill, and see if he will give you a lottery ticket."
Mr. Publix understood his new mission. He nodded and took his dollar to the counter where Andy stood. Andy was gone in a flash. If there's one thing to be said, it's that the guy had stealth. Mr. Publix handed the bill to the guy behind the counter. He looked suspicious, like the kind of guy that would sell lottery tickets to minors, like Mr. Publix. Mr. Publix asked finally, as he handed the man the single.
"One lottery ticket, please."
"I need your ID."
Mr. Publix gave a furtive galnce at Donna, still within sight. She nodded for him to continue. He pulled his driver's permit from his pocket, and handed it to him.
The man scanned the identification quickly, and handed it back to Mr. Publix with his dollar bill as he said "You're too young."
The man checked out. Maybe not all of them would. Mr. Publix walked back to Donna.
"I had just gotten word from the head. He says we need to run... checks."
Mr. Publix nodded, and went to take care of some unfinished business. "CAAAAART!!!"

Distress on Indiantown (Pt. 2)

Jess stopped at Maddie's house, and said goodbye to someone now invisible to her. She didn't hear a response either. She let out a long sigh, and pulled out of the concrete driveway. She drove out of the neighborhood, and came up on the Walgreen's to the left. The traffic light was red, and she was at least not insane enough to drive right through it. She looked to her right at Johnathan, who was placidly looking out of the window. The thunder roared in her head as the light turned to green. She didn't let off of the brake, but instead doubled over with a splitting headache. She saw that neither Johnathan or Rebbecca would even speak to ask what was wrong. Neither of them were even looking over at her. She was going insane. This was proof. She wasn't even sure she had left the beach a few minutes ago even. None of this was normal. Her brother and sister were never so apathetic as to leave her doubled over in pain. Her world spun with thoughts about where she was and what was going on. She might of been at the beach still, or in her bed asleep. Maybe she actually was here right now with thunder at surreal volumes in her head, and uncaring siblings. She managed to look back up at the traffic light to see it was red again. Thankfully no one was behind her. Her headache subsided a bit, and she looked for the light to turn green. It did, and she drove. She felt dizzy. She began to overcompensate for the wheel alignment, and ended up careening down Military. She couldn't stop. She suddenly found herself face-to-face with a palm tree.
Strange. Palm trees didn't belong in the road. Of course, cars didn't belong in the median did they? She suddenly panicked. Johnathan Rebbecca! Were they okay? She looked back. She looked, but didn't see anything. Were her eyes closed? She forced them open. She still only saw black. She looked back ahead, the palm tree was still there. Nothing else. She kept her head forward, and felt for her seat belt. It was still there. That's what she felt, not what she saw. She was not calm in the least. She couldn't think. The only thing she seemed able to do was hyperventilate, and stare at the palm tree.
"Okay." She told herself. "I'm dreaming. I'll just wake up soon, and things will be fine. My family will be back, and I'll be in my bed. Come on, just find a way to wake up."
She began to feel sweat. She turned. She felt attacked. She didn't see anything. Her mind was being attacked, but she knew she was dreaming. She woke up, and tried her best to stifle a scream.

When I first heard of "night terrors," -the nightmares some have that are so horrific that when they wake up, they can't seem to remember what they dreamed about, or even if they dreamed, they could only remember that they woke up scared to death- I had wondered what it was people dreamed about that was so horrific. It's probably worse than what I thought up here, but I just guessed. What is it that could be so horrifying that they wake up in cold sweat with a scream of terror? It scares me trying to think about it.