Fenris Badwulf, caring person
I, Fenris Badwulf, I care. One way I have of caring is to grant people’s wishes. Within reason, of course. One little girl wanted to play with spiders: now we cannot have that, now can we? All socially acceptable stuff applies; not only does it apply, it is constantly shifting thanks to the soft headed whims of the ability challenged activists. And since we are gunning somehow for a government grant, funding, resources, contracts, from all this teddy bear and pony posturing one needs someone else to pay the piper, foot the bill, make the sacrifice. Sacrifices are called for, but these can be arranged with suitable lies and untruths: it is the government after all. The next pressing problem is is it doable? Some wishes are impossible; and to determine doable we must get close to the person making the wish. Talk to them, watch them like a stalker, laugh at their jokes, earn their trust, reflect back their statements, and really apply those telemarketers listening skills. Still, it may lead back to spiders.
If you think it through, it would be more efficient to grant a wish to someone who is going to be a heavyweight in the world than to someone who is just going to fade. This sending the dying kid to spend a week with Michael Jackson appeals more to the white guilty than to the Goddess Efficiency. Sparking up some talented minx will do more for the collective good, will it not? A wish granted to Einstein would be better, yes? Let us find the little waif who will cure cancer, and motivate them with a wish. This is what I do; this is a truth I share with those to whom I offer the sacrifice. The doctors who fail in their treatments do not need to see a pony brought into the ward; they need their jaws broken. It does not have to be cancer, of course. The powerful, the influential, the mighty, start as not so. You can spot them, that spark of talent. The magi did as much for Jesus; and we should do the same. Grant them a wish, inspire them.
Back to spiders. What do you do with a little girl who wants spiders? Mummy and Daddy would disapprove: they are thinking pony. This is the importance of getting close as the Godfather to people. You can lie to Mummy about the spiders, but you need to know what the little girl wants in her spiders. An infestation? Pretty colors? Have them eat the neighbors yappy dog? You dab your lips and sip your wine, watching with eight eyes. It is just a metaphor, of course. Nobody would infest an apartment with spiders. A pocketful of dust in a cupboard or closet can bring down a seething plague of them. I know; I used to breed them as a child. They need water, like in the damp places found under bathroom sinks; and they need food, which you can supply. Then they come. You can time it: will the little girl be most happy if they appear at night, at dawn, or a sunrise surprise? So it is with wishes. Give them what they want; but find out what they truly want. Give them details. It does not have to be quick, but slow and linger. Ignore everyone else if you want to be a granter of wishes.
And what of fear? People fear the roller coaster, the bungee jump, the voyage down on a parachute. The pooping pony is for the white guilty. The gift of fear is perhaps the best wish you can grant someone. The world is much less a big, impossible place after. Then they will march off to do their best work; but keep smelling salts. The world will be a better place. It makes my heart warm. And you, to do your duty, if even as silent watcher and hunter of souls, is to be prepared to give the wish that they need. Some screaming, some flying around the room, some spiders…
My afternoon is done. I have my scotch, my devoted, adorable house cat is asleep in the sun. The plan is complete, the actors in place, the timer is ticking. Really, it cannot be stopped. You could whisper caution, but why? That look of joy in a persons face; well the look, anyway. It entertains me. I am off to my late afternoon private pleasure: a private modelling of lingerie, from my favorite whore. Perhaps it will give me inspiration for the business of granting wishes; it certainly is good for the digestion. Be open for the events that trigger thought and reaction, the past, the present, the future. But today, I want you to think about wishes wished, and wishes to be granted.
I, Fenris Badwulf, I care.