Syndrome of subjective doubles

On the show I worked last night, there was a guy who billed himself as Howard Traylor of Howard Traylor’s Dodge.  His gimmick was anyone in the crowd could fight him, and if they lasted 5 minutes they’d get a fully loaded brand new Ram. 

I assumed this was a work, but from what I heard it’s a shoot.  How is that possible in this day and age?  That’s carny stuff from the 1800s.  I wish I had watched the match – there’s no mistaking a real fight for a wrestling match.  Instead I saw something else when I walked in on him having sex in the bathroom.  I don’t think we’re going to be friends. 

Since meeting with Mr. Petticord, I’ve been working on my magic.  Spending a few days with that bitter old jerk and meeting the professor reinforced that I can’t wait around for another mentor.  I’ve gotten good at summoning smoke.  A lot of smoke.  Too much smoke.  I’m trying to dial that back.  I’ve also figured out how to make a flash of light that could blind someone.  I’m working out non-lethal spells that can help me out of a jam.

When I summoned my fetch, Mr. Petticord flipped his wig at first.  Then he asked me what it did.  When I told him it didn’t do anything, he sneered.  I’ve been working on that.  Turns out that I can make it move a little.  If I practice I can probably make it do more.

Last night I had a nightmare about a copy of myself coming in at night and strangling me.  So maybe I won’t mess with that spell anymore.

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