Mercury Wells

When I first met Mercury Wells he was working at a Cinnabar in the mall.  He hated it there.  He had plans, big plans.  But at the time, he worked at a franchise shop in the mall.  He sold Radium sodas to bubble-gum brained teenage girls and he hated it, hated himself for being there.

I told him, as we stood in the parking lot behind the mall for a smoke break, that his dreams were too big for him to stick around here.  “ You've got to get out, man,” I told him.  “ You've got to go do things…”

So I guess you can blame me.  It’s my fault. If I hadn't encouraged him Mercury Wells might have remained a frustrated mall franchise clerk in an ill-fitting apron and a paper hat. I am sorry.  If I had known the evil that he would do, I would have kept my big mouth shut.