Me and The Mall Cop: Difference between revisions

== Chapter 2: The Arrival of a Mall Cop ==

Midnight, April 18, 2017. I was browsing memes on my iFunny account, chuckling at the shit that I see. They were mostly reposts, but they were funny, I guess. After downloading a couple dozen memes into my folder, I heard a knock at the front door. Strange, I don't recall having guests, let alone at midnight. Nevertheless, I checked it out. I open the door, not expecting who or what to expect.

Either I was high as a kite from a nonexistent drug, or I am hallucinating from sleep deprivation. I shook my head, hoping Paul Blart goes away. He didn't. In my mind, I was conflicted whether or not if I should scream, run, or both, but before I could do anything, he spoke again.

It was not easy to grasp, but the fact that this obese man with the glued mustache on his face, riding on a Segway, is in front of me, in the entrance of my home. Eventually, I gather enough words to make a sentence.

"Y-You're Paul Blart.."

He nods humbly, as if this was not the first time he encountered such a reaction. Without a word, he grabs a scroll out of his pocket. It was crushed, of course, due to his weight. Nevertheless, he hands it to me, with a look of encouragement. Like a fragile origami, I carefully handle the scroll, and meticulously unravel it to see what is inside. The scroll was not written in English, rather in a foreign language in a typography I cannot recognize. "What is this? I cannot read it." I ask, hoping for an answer. He respond with an equivalent level of confusion. "I don't know. It is a language I am not familiar with. I gave it to you because I assumed that you would know what it means." I double-check the scroll, hoping if there was anything that I can recognize.

''⏁⍜ ⏚⟒ ⌰⟟⎎⏁⟒⎅ ⎎⍀⍜⋔ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⎍⍀⌇⟒ ⍜⎎ ⏚⌰⏃⍀⏁, ⍜⋏⟒ ⋔⎍⌇⏁ ☍⟟⌰⌰ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⟒⍀⌇⍜⋏ ⍙⊑⍜ ☌⏃⎐⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⎍⍀⌇⟒.''

Then, epiphany! I knew a friend that was a linguist, who could probably decipher it. Subconsciously, I invite the mall cop inside. He followed without hesitation. However, before I call my friend, there was an important question that I forgot to ask. "Mr. Blart, why are you here? You're only a fictional character, played by a terrible actor." The second I asked the question, he makes a grimace, as if this is not a topic that can be trifled with. He sits down on my couch, with a whump and a creak, and reluctantly answers the question.

"Ever heard of a doppelgänger, kid? That is who I am, or what I think I am. I do not know who or what created me. A few hours ago, I woke up in someone's backyard, and a guy threatened to shoot me! So, I hopped on my Segway and drove away, far away from that guy. And while I was driving on this road, I felt this feeling; a strange feeling, I might add, to come to your house. And..." he sighs, "Now I'm here."

Baffled by this bizarre backstory, I had no comment. I ponder what to say, but I instinctively reply with a soft "Welcome to my home." With nothing else to say, I contact my friend, Ryan, on my phone. He was not pleased.

"Karl... Why the '''''FUCK''''' are you calling me at midnight?!"

Startled by his exclaimation, I stumbled my words. "I-I need your help. Please come over. Paul Blart is in my home, and he gave me a scroll with a language that he didn't know."

"Paul Bla-, what are you talking about? He is not re-" Out of nowhere, Paul interrupts Ryan and exclaims, "Excuse me, do you have any Skittles?" Ryan heard him, "He's real, is he?" "Yes, he is. And could you buy some Skittles? I don't have any." Ryan was silent for a while, and reluctantly accept the offer, and hung up. I look back at Paul. "Skittles? Out of all food and beverages, you want that?" He was slightly embarassed, "I have hypoglycemia. I need sugary food."

Oh my God, this is going to be one long night.

== Chapter 3: The Deciphering ==

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