The Contest . 4
Gloria Hellborn . 7
Message from the Hummerbugs . 15
Willow and Elijah . ?
The Disastrous Dinner Party . ?
A Little Angel Down on Earth . ?
The Promise . ?
The Wedding . ?
Gloria and Benjamin
On the Metal Beam . ?
Gloria in a Pool . ?
Lessons . ?
The Pointless Spell . ?
The Wrath of Mort Mal . ?
The After Supper Program . ?
The Hair-Clip of Life . ?
Back on the Air . ?
Whatever Happened To… . ?
The day was January the first. Four people, all wrapped in cloaks, were positioned around a black, metal box. Many anxious parents were in a long line, stretching at least a mile away from the box. They were all clutching an infant in one hand and a writing utensil in the other. Every eye in that line was fixed on a sign that read:
A trillion Dollars will Be Given to Five lucky families! One lucky family will also receive a extra special Prize As Long as your family has had a new child added to it in the last Year, Simply line up and fill out the designated form! Put the form in the small, Black box! Bring your own writing utensil, as they will not be provided!
These parents were all anxiously awaiting their chance to arrive at the front of the line and earn a change at the prize. A trillion dollars did sound nice, but what about the special prize that only one family would get? After the first add for this contest in Le Mot Quotidien, the local newspaper, the entire city was asking themselves a question. What was the special prize? Families that had had new children born to them in the past year all crowded in the endless line, awaiting the time when they would fill out the form.
The day wore on. The sound of babies crying filled the air, ringing in the ears of those parents who had already entered the contest. An odd assortment of parents appeared, each hoping for a wonderful reward. A horribly fat man who was red in the face and had a curly moustache muttered something about this being “the only good thing that came from the damn little brat!” An extremely pretty woman with silvery-blonde hair danced gracefully over to the box skillfully holding two identical twins and dropping two forms into the box.
Around dusk, although the line had not seemed to shorten, a short, plump, merry-faced man who was wearing a tweed jacket and green, plaid trousers lowered his turquoise cloak from over his head and withdrew a bull-horn from some in it’s depths.
“I’m so sorry, good friends!” he announced to the crowd in a giddy voice, “We have enough entrants for the contest. I ask you all to go home!”
There was a great deal of protest at his words.
“We’ve been waiting hear all day!” shouted a lady who was next in line.
“I’m sorry, but we’re done!” said another of the four hooded figures. This time a girl was talking from beneath a blood-red hood. Her voice was high, cold, and crackly. The woman attempted to strangle her.
When, finally, the last of the angry parents were driven away, conversation began among the four hooded figures.
“Well, we’ve finally done it,” said a strict voice from under a bright blue cloak. “All we have to do is wait for eleven years.”
The fourth figure in a black cloak out- stretched a pale hand, which clutched a gold key. The figure turned the key in a keyhole in the metal box. Names for each of the rewards were chosen. The “extra-special” reward (which turned out to be a lifetime supply of potato chips), as well as the trillion dollars, were given to the winners. Soon, all of the parents who hadn’t won a prize forgot about the contest. For who would suspect that, eleven years later, it would change four children’s lives forever.