Librarian of Alexandria

XIII: In Which A Cast of Colorful Charcuteries Learn Lessons about the State of the Fabric Industry, or, The Prolific yet Prideful Package

Alfred van Akka of Unfoundland was a kind of deliveryman by day, bicycle-thief by night. Every morning, he'd wake up, take a package, and bring it to a specified destination; every night, he'd go back and take a bicycle he saw on the way. He saw it as a kind of retribution for the way a bloodthirsty gang of bike-pirates stole his Heroes in Theoretical Numismatics action figure set during his childhood.

One day, Alfred took a package and it spoke to him. It whispered his name softly and sweetly, and Alfred was so terrified he threw it on the ground and ran halfway to New Prottsville. A passing metabotanical vicar had to help him back up.

Presently, he began to feel bad for so quickly abandoning the package, which really had probably just wanted a friend. He marched back home and apologized to the package, asking it if it wanted to hang out.

In fact, the package had only wanted a friend, but seeing Alfred's terrified response, its package equivalent of a heart was filled with hatred. It vowed to destroy him.

That day, they went out to the Genschen Boardwalk, rode the rides, and went to dinner at a fancy restaurant. All this infuriated the package even more, as it was a Marxist who hated to see the consumeristic culture around it. Finally, Alfred took the package with him to go bike-stealing, which was the last straw, as many of the package's friends were bikes.

As it turned out, the bike being stolen was his girlfriend's cousin, and they joined forces to... well, let's just say it wasn't pretty. A bluejay in the bush nearby had to go to therapy for years, and nearly had to give her chicks up to Avian Protective Services during her unstable periods. Real harsh. Alfred was done for before it even started.

The package and the bike moved in together in Alfred's old home, which was a real mistake. The package had to constantly run around turning off lights. That's what you get, I suppose.