#6

“What's going on peeps?” I said as I strolled into the lab. “I just had a very freaky experience with an alien and a bogus begger.”

“Bogus begger?” said Dawson. “Nice alliteration.”

“Thanks big D,” I replied, bumping fists. Dawson's my man. He's awesome. But he's not The Man that's...

“Where the hell have you been!?” a deep booming voice yelled at me from some stairs leading up to an office on the other side of the lab. Yep, 'The Man', Rose Dario.

“Meant to warn you, dude. She's on the warpath,” Dawson whispered in my ear. I gave him a thank you pat on the shoulder and made my way over.

“Hey Rose – sorry, I was...”

“I'm tired of your excuses. I don't want to hear it...”

“I think you'll want to hear this,” I said interrupting. No one interrupts The Man. “I just ran into a bogus beggar and an alien outside,” I blurted before she could explode at me.

The expression on her face instantly changed. She raced down the stairs to the body strapped to the examination table, took out a small flashlight from her coat pocket and started to examine his eyes.

“You think it's because of the project?” I asked the obvious question.

“What do you think?” she barked back at me. “There was always a chance,” she continued almost to herself. “In this state his imagination is backed up. It has no escape. With no outlet, it's starting to manifest physically.”

“Sort of like a wet dream when you don't...” Yep, wish I had of kept that thought to myself. Dawson laughed.

“We need to find a way to get his imagination flowing again,” The Man continued, ignoring us. “If we don't find a way to unblock his mind, it could be the end of us.”

I looked down at the body. He seemed so peaceful. Hard to believe that his imagination now held our lives in the balance. I never expected the apocalypse to be named Dale Stephens.