by MW Cook
“I see.” Said Shan, affording himself a little chuckle. “I know how you feel.” He chuckled again. “I see you.” He was doubled over now, laughing hysterically. The two eyes made massive and impatient rolls.
After about five minutes Shan was himself again, though it would have been better if he were someone else. He stood and looked at the two massive eyes and tried to figure out what to do. He noticed that the eye he had uncovered was a little dirty, so he took out the small bottle of bleach he kept with him.
Suddenly the power in the author’s house went out. Knowing there was little time left the author caused Shan to dump his bleach on the dirty eye and save his work, lest his less-than-competent batteries die.