2

As he groggily stands and staggers to the window, the fragmented pieces of Malcolm’s mind cling to a single word, muttered to himself under his breath.

“Yellow.”

With his obnoxious reference out of the way, Malcolm manages to gain some control over his senses.  He walks to the adjacent bathroom, turning the cold water on full blast, cupping it in his hands and splashing it against his face, gasping as it slaps him into alertness.

He checks his clock.  There’s still some time before he has to be at work.  Plenty of time for a shower and breakfast.  As he turns the knob, sticking a hand out to test the water, his clarity begins to return.  The bank.  He works at the bank.  He’s a banker.  One of the things Malcolm had always wanted to do was to go to work pantsless and smirk at all the customers who don’t know his legs are unclad.  But no…he realized in the first few days of the job that his fellow tellers would, in fact, know.  His pantsless banking nothing but a fantasy now, but he refuses to stop clinging to it.

I should put on something nice today for a change, he thinks as he steps into the shower.  Then he pauses.  “For a change?”  There’s a dress code, and it’s not even Casual Friday.  Malcolm’s pretty sure he would have gotten the memo about Casual Wednesday if there was one.  Of course he’s going to dress nicely.  Although…it might be a good idea to put on the suit jacket today as well.  Yes, he thinks, nodding as he squirts shampoo into his hand.  He’s going to put on the suit jacket.  Won’t he look dapper then, and won’t Rodney be jealous of his dapper swag?

As soon as he’s stepped out of the shower and dried off, he heads back into his room, heading for the glasses on his nightstand over a fresh pair of underwear, despite his current state of nudity.  He sighs contentedly as he feels the familiar pressure on the bridge of his nose.  Malcolm’s eyesight really isn’t particularly poor.  He certainly wouldn’t be “blind without them,” as some would put it.  But he still refuses to switch to contacts and panics when he’s not wearing them, just because when he’s not, it “doesn’t feel right.”

Once he has completed his daily ritual of dressing and complimenting his reflection on his appearance, Malcolm heads down the hall to the kitchen, where he painstakingly prepares a bowl of Cap’n Crunch (with Crunchberries, of course—Malcolm loves his Crunchberries) and glass of milk.  Some days, when he’s feeling particularly adventurous, he starts his day with some form of toaster pastries or a glass of orange juice instead of milk!

After finishing up his cereal, Malcolm glances at his watch and sees that he still has a few moments before he needs to leave for work.  It’s 8:34, he needs to be to work at 9:00, and it only takes him ten minutes to get to the bank.  That leaves him with fourteen whole minutes!  He decides to spend his time how every responsible adult would: checking his favorite fan forums.  As he places his dishes in the sink to wash later, he glances up at the kitchen window, suddenly struck with the sudden impulse to fling it open and scream something to the world.  Odd.  But that would be pointless, and either way, he can’t think of anything witty to yell.  After all, if you can’t say anything witty for an audience, you may as well not say anything at all.

Malcolm sits down at his computer and opens the internet.  Oh, look!  That girl in Saskatchewan sent him another e-mail!  But no, he doesn’t have time to respond right now.  Malcolm is part of at least five fandoms, and he needs to make sure that there haven’t been any major developments.  Fourteen minutes later and with his curiosity sated, he pushes his glasses further up his nose, stands, and heads out the door for work.

But what now?  Where does Malcolm’s story take him from here?  It is up to you to decide.

Comments close 2/17/12