Shinde Iie Anime Blog & Review Celebratory 200th Post Extravaganza

Yeah, that video was about as close to a celebration jam as I could think of. Anyway, as of this post, Shinde Iie Anime Blog & Review will officially be over the 200 post mark. It seems like only yesterday I finished writing my very first episodic, and it was actually only yesterday that I wrote the 199th post. So instead of making this something dedicated to Ano Natsu like I planned on doing, I decided to delay that terrible idea in favor of a much worse one to celebrate being much more prolific than I ever expected to be.

This is the first third of a memoir of this past summer, completely fictionalized, that describes striking detail a story that involves Madoka Magica and Skittles. Aside from a few well-placed swears that I added in and the little note at the end, it’s virtually unchanged from when I first wrote it on Wednesday out of boredom. To anybody who wants to turn back now, there will be no hurt feelings; I certainly felt a lot of shame writing this. And considering my writing history, that’s saying a lot. However, for those willing to press on, I hope you enjoy enough to comment… or at least not turn away in revulsion. 

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The date was the Thirteenth of July, the year 2011. I had returned from a successful 7/11 rob- I mean shopping spree. The time upon my return had just struck 3:17 am, and a plastic shopping bag of Tropical Skittles hung limply from my arm, swinging as plastic bags are wont to do. I would have felt more sympathetic if it were a living being instead of just a bag full of Skittles packets, but its lack of any organic quality did little to faze my unbreakable façade of indifference.

I forced my tired legs into my office and flicked on the light switch, not expecting to see what looming figure sat before me. A hulking monstrosity sat on my desk, staring at me expectantly with what I imagined were soulless eyes. And on top of this monstrosity (A heap of papers and twelve cent manga) sat a creature the likes of which I had never seen in this world. It was fox-like in appearance, its white body glowing with an almost otherworldly luminance. It perched itself on the edge of this precarious stack, its red eyes and unceasing smile stimulating that primal nerve that urges you to run away from something lest you be hacked into gooey bits. However, I never made it far in life trusting my instincts.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I questioned angrily, throwing my bag full of Skittles at the intruder as hard as I possibly could. It dodged my pathetic throw with little effort, landing without a sound on the desk lamp far enough away from the projectile to avoid being caught in the ensuing paper avalanche. “Hello, Inushinde!” the creature chirped with glee. “My name is Kyubey, and I’m here to make a contract with you. In exchange for granting you one wish, any wish your heart could desire, you shall become a magical girl.” I squinted and stared into the two glowing embers of his eyes, and could swear that I saw a spark of something malevolent flash for a second. It was this ominous sign that clued me in and validated my thoughts—this thing looked pretty legit.

Completely legit

“So in exchange for granting my wish, I’m pretty much forced to dress up in drag for the rest of my life and fight evil?” I confirmed, making sure I had everything straight. “That is correct,” Kyubey confirmed coldly yet cheerfully, not losing that trustworthy grin. I glanced around the room, observing the chaos of my surroundings. Papers were strewn all over the floor, many ripped and crumpled from their catastrophic fall. Among them lay several brightly colored circles, a testament to my failed attempt at home defense.

Pondering my options, I took the smartest that I could think of. All I needed to do was walk right up to Kyubey, look him straight in the eye and shout as loudly as I could in his face “It’s a deal! I mean it’s not like fighting evil in drag is the strangest thing that I’ve done this summer. And it’s not like I have anything else to do.” My eyes glazed over, memories of the summer’s previous escapades replaying themselves like broken film reels. My own terrified screams, assorted mariachi music, and the sounds of a babbling brook interspersed with a chainsaw reverberated through my head, sending a chill down my spine.

“Excellent!” Kyubey piped up again, the rings on his long ears bouncing ever so slightly with anticipation. “Now if you’ll just tell me what your wish is, I’ll be happy to gran-” “A bodyguard to fight the evil for me!” I interrupted without thinking. Hey, I didn’t want to die doing this gig. But on the other hand, I could’ve at least wished that the room didn’t look like it played host to a paper and Skittle bacchanalia of ludicrously orgy-tastic proportions. But before I could reconsider and make a much more thought out wish, the room was awash in a blinding white light that enveloped me in its wispy tendrils. After several moments, my vision began to clear and a thin girlish figure stood before me.

Realizing for once that I wasn’t looking in the most masculinity-destroying mirror around, I began to make out several features. The girlish figure, not more than 14 years old, was at least six inches too short to be my reflection. She was clad in blue with soft yet demanding pink eyes that practically glowed with obsessive devotion. The windows matched the drapes, her hair the same odd shade of bubblegum pink. A smile spread slowly across her lips before they parted and she inhaled. “Inushinde-kun…” she finally said, her voice grating like nails on chalkboard.

One word raced through my head to describe this situation, a word that so perfectly encapsulated the hopelessness of my situation. Not only did I have an underage girl standing in front of me crooning my name in a creepily suggestive voice, but I was also in a frilly dress holding a Faberge egg– there would be no way to explain this to the police without a prison sentence and signing up for some kind of watch list.  Without giving it a second thought, something that was an unfortunate running theme for the night, I let that perfect word escape my lips.

"Fuck."

Will I escape a prison sentence despite the odds being stacked against me? Will there be a standard, non-creepy romance to help the story find its footing? Will I be stupid and try to pawn the Faberge egg for a quick buck? If this post turns out successful (By which I mean it doesn’t earn me derision and an angry mob in equal measure), stay tuned for the next thrilling episode!

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