Ang-87
Imp Manufacturing Company, Inc - 8:05 p.m. G.S.T.
Log Entry #7783
Status: Potion damaged. Disposed in waste chute. Click [View More] Button at end of document to view details <span id="test25928143">. . .</span><br/><div id="post25928143" style="display:none; margin-right:75px;">
Details: potions merged (d + a) in I.M.P. chamber. Unit Dev-14 responsible; cause unknown; potentially dangerous - unable to be consumed. Potion dropped into Chute 23b by Ang-87 for disposal. Records stored in file #1545.
Case closed.
Log Entry #7783
Status: Potion damaged. Disposed in waste chute. Click [View More] Button at end of document to view details <span id="test25928143">. . .</span><br/><div id="post25928143" style="display:none; margin-right:75px;">
Details: potions merged (d + a) in I.M.P. chamber. Unit Dev-14 responsible; cause unknown; potentially dangerous - unable to be consumed. Potion dropped into Chute 23b by Ang-87 for disposal. Records stored in file #1545.
Case closed.
Something gleaned in the corner of my eyes, buried under some trash in the garbage heap. I walked up to it, and brushed off the leftover waste the IMC made. It was one of their devil imp potions. No, my bad, it was an angel imp potion. No, it was something in between.
The bottle was gray, and one wing was demonic, the other angelic.
Hmm... I thought. This could be interesting.
I took it home with me and set it down upon my dining room table. It was ten o'clock, so I yawned and went to bed. I'll examine it tommorrow, I thought.
The next morning, I found it sitting atop my dining room table. Nothing had happened. Strange, I thought. Usually when I find something like that, by morning it takes over the universe, or enslaves all of the human race.
But there it was. Sitting there. Exactly where I put it.
I yawned, having just gotten out of bed. I thought I might try to open it. So, rather foolishly, I picked it up and began to screw it open, to drink it. The lid simply popped off. The whole entire lid, including the wings.
But when I yanked the lid off, my accursed bad luck made me slip my hand, the bottle dropping to the floor, the lid not far after.
It shattered. The potion, an oddly grayish color, pooled on the floor.
The potion shattered.
Too late for me to mop it up and pick up the shards, the potion's mysterious magic did its work. The puddle enveloped the shards of glass, becoming a small gray mass, writhing on the floor, until it slowly began to form a solid shape.
The lid sat near the edge of the pool, but only absorbed a little of the mysterious liquid.
In only thirty seconds, two things laid on the floor. One was a baby imp, already wrapped in a blanket, with one demonic wing, and one angelic wing. The other was an Animated Imp plushie, but also, like a mixture between the regular kinds of Animated Imp plushies.
In only thirty seconds, two things laid on the floor.
At that time, I knew that I was in for something big.
Mistakes are a fact of life. It is the response to error that counts.
-Nikki Giovanni
CONTINUED IN PART TWO, AND CONCLUDED IN PART THREE
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