Disclaimer; The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people real or fictional is completely coincidental, yeah, that's it, coincidental. Please don't hit me!

Scribal Error

Disembodied narrator voice, "Submitted for your approval, one Paul Trip. An author of note in some circles but obscure to most of the world. His dreams are about to come true, to his detriment, as his life flows from the well of his pen into the Oishi Zone,"

It was eleven at night when the phone started ringing. Paul got up from his desk and made his way to it. His greatest fear was that it was a solicitor that had broken his concentration. He'd probably never remember the line he was working on now.

"Hello?" Paul said as he picked up the phone.

"Paul Trip?" A serious sounding voice on the other end asked.

"Yes," Paul said. Still fearing that it could be someone trying to sell him something, he braced himself to hang up immediately if needed.

"Sorry to call at such a late hour, but I'm afraid what I have to say should not be put off. I regret to inform you that your uncle Charlie has passed away," The voice said.

"You must have the wrong person. I don't have an uncle Charlie," He said. The man read off his address and a bit of his family history, then gave him the address to his uncle's estate.

"Come by tomorrow around noon. He left you everything. It isn't much, I'm afraid, but it's all yours" The voice said, then there was a click. Confused, Paul tried to go back to writing. His poetry earned him enough to keep the lights on, but hadn't made him rich. After a few minutes his mood brightened as the line came back to him with striking clarity, then, of course, there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" He called out.

"I saw your light and figured you couldn't sleep either," Grace's voice called from the other side. All of the built up tension and anger left Paul immediately. Grace was perhaps the only person who could be on the other side of that door and not put him into a rage at this point. He knew the poem was lost, but he had more important things on his mind now. He needed to tidy up a bit before she came in.

"Just a minute," he called out, balling up the Hungry Jack wrapper he forgot to throw away from dinner and tossing it in the bin. He made sure he was presentable real quick then called out, "Come on in, it's open," Grace walked in and sat down at his dinner table like it was her own home. They worked together. Paul wrote poems, abolishing Hell one verse at a time, and Grace did watercolours for the illustrations. Their work was Christian themed and meant to present a strong message. With their combined efforts they almost equaled William Blake, "Care for some tea? If we're going to be up anyway," Paul asked already grabbing the kettle.

"That would be lovely. You are so considerate. I hope I'm not interrupting anything," She saw the paper on his desk, "Were you working?" She knew he preferred to hand write every poem before he typed it.

"I was kicking something around, but no worries, I'll get back to it tomorrow," Paul put the tea on to boil and sat down across from Grace. He always enjoyed her company. They had worked together for a couple of years now. While they had feelings for each other, Grace had been jilted on her wedding day when she was younger and was unwilling to get into a relationship. It was difficult being so close, yet so distant, "I just found out my uncle Charlie died," He said, "I didn't even know he existed until I got the call,"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Who's side was he from?" Grace asked.

"I don't know. The man on the phone didn't say," Paul said.

"What man on the phone?" Grace asked.

"He didn't say that either. He just told me my uncle died and gave me an address. He said he left me everything," The kettle started whistling and Paul got up to get the cups.

"How odd," Grace said. Paul was relieved that he wasn't the only one unnerved by all of this.

"I'm going to take a look at what he left. It's kind of out of the way, but I can't just ignore it," Paul said as he poured Grace some tea. He poured his own, then put the kettle between them before sitting down. As Grace watched the vapours float and dance above her cup, she ran her fingers through her long black hair. It had a few gray streaks in it, but they only stood to accentuate the darkness of the rest of her hair. Her skin looked pale in comparison.

"You be careful now. I hope this isn't somebody's plot to waylay you and rob you blind," Grace said taking a sip of her tea. Paul sipped his own tea as he watched her soft lips pucker slightly against the cup. She wore no makeup, but her lips looked very red in contrast to her pale skin and dark hair. He hoped she didn't notice his lingering gaze at her mouth. Her eyes were closed as she enjoyed the warmth of the liquid filling her, so he figured he was safe. She knew about his poetry, but he never told her about his other fiction.

"I'll be careful, besides, who would want to rob me? They would spend more money planning to rob me than they'd find on my person. Even if they tossed my house, they wouldn't get much," Paul pretended to be very interested in his cup to take his mind off of Grace's lips. He wondered what it would be like to be small enough to hug them, to ride her tongue, to go down her throat like the tea had. Lucky tea. Her lips looked so soft. Everything about her was soft. Very comfortable looking.

"Right Paul?" Grace asked. He hadn't even realized she'd said anything.

"Sorry, had a lot on my mind. What was that?" Paul asked, masking his daydreaming with his uncle's demise.

"I said, it's not like a sweet man like you has any enemies, right?" Grace asked taking another long sip of tea.

Paul managed to answer after a brief delay, "Not that I know of," They talked until about two in the morning about their poems, and a plan they had to compile them into a book. It was a nice idea. If they could get it published, they were sure it would sell well. They were startled when they looked at the clock.

"Goodness me! I've taken up enough of your time. I better get home and try to sleep," Grace said getting up, "Call me as soon as you get there and as soon as you get back. I'll worry if I don't hear from you,"

"I will, and don't worry about keeping me up. I probably would have stayed up this late anyway without the benefit of such great company," He walked her to the door, then went to bed. His mind was heavy and he still didn't sleep much. Uncle Charlie?

Paul got up early the next morning. He might have gotten three hours of sleep that night. Time felt like it was standing still. At about eleven he decided to try and find his uncle's house hoping he would get there in time. When he arrived he found out there was nobody to meet him. A sticky note was on the door.

"Sorry, I ran into a problem. Feel free to look around. The place is yours after all. The will and the deed are on the table in the kitchen," The note was unsigned.

The house was fairly small. It had some furniture, but nothing too expensive. It was very clean and orderly. The closet had seven sets of the exact same clothing and one pair of well cared for shoes. The underwear drawer had the days of the week initialed on each pair, "I wonder what they buried him in then," He said out loud. He found no pictures of Charlie, no notes, or phone numbers. Nothing to really tell him what manner of man his uncle was. There was a door in the back of the house with a heavy lock on it. The key was in the lock, and when Paul tried the handle it opened. There was a room on the other side that was bigger than the rest of the house. It looked like several walls were torn down to make one giant room out of a few different bedrooms. In the center there was a giant machine. It looked like a big rusty gas tank with an old fashioned lightbulb on top and a few turbines. There were tubes coming from it that lead to the floor. There were two monitors with their own keyboards on the side facing the door. One had Location written on it and the other said scale.

Paul walked toward the machine to examine it and nearly stepped on something before its metallic sheen caught his eye. It looked like a necklace. Engraved along the edge were the words, "Put on before use. Button = Return," There was a tiny button on the necklace, but Paul had no idea what it was talking about, "Return?" He put it on anyway, just in case. The monitors were the only new looking things on the machine. They looked like they had been replaced fairly recently. The one that said location had coordinates and a street view map that showed the house. It had the option to zoom in. Paul used it and the view zoomed into the house, but the image looked more like auto CAD than a live image. The monitor that said scale was at one hundred percent. He decided not to mess with it until he knew what the machine did. The machine began to beep. Paul panicked and tried to run. There was a loud boom and somehow, Paul found himself on the other side of the room. He was still standing the same way he was, but he was naked. His clothes were crumpled on the floor where he originally stood.

Paul timidly made his way back to the machine. He noticed he had appeared in the spot displayed on the monitor. The thought excited him. He decided to try putting in a different location. He arranged it to make him appear in the living room. There was a loud boom and he was there. He didn't notice any shift in time. The teleportation was instant. It didn't hurt, in fact, it felt good. He felt, well, charged was the best way he could describe it. The little hairs on his body were standing on end and when he touched the doorknob, he was popped with a blast of static. That was when he remembered the necklace. He had a theory about what it was for, but he had to be sure. He pressed the button and found himself in the machine room again after another boom.

He spent the whole day testing it out. He found he could go pretty much anywhere he wanted and return to the machine as soon as he pushed the button on the necklace. The only problem was, it only took him. His clothes stayed behind. He was constantly worried that he would appear naked and people would see him. He was startled when his pants started to ring. His heart sank. In the excitement of finding the machine, he had forgotten to call Grace. He scrambled to his pants and dug for his phone nearly dropping it in the process, "Grace, I'm sorry, but I found something you won't believe. I haven't been keeping track of time," Grace was crying.

"Paul, it is six PM. You said you'd call when you made it. I was worried sick," She sobbed.

"I'm very sorry. I completely forgot. There's something you have to see. I'll show you tomorrow if you're free," Paul said.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I can't describe it. You'll have to see it for yourself," Paul said.

"I guess I'm free. Promise to call me when you get home ok?" She said.

"Of course," Paul said, "Take care," They hung up and Paul began to put his clothes back on when the scale monitor caught his eye, "A few minutes wouldn't hurt," Paul found he could enter percentages or specific sizes and he would shrink or grow to the size specified. When he pushed the button on the collar he would return to his original size. He didn't know how long he played with it, but he felt he had mastered the mechanics of the individual screens. Now it was time for the true test. He decided to combine the two. For his test run he tried the kitchen table at about six centimeters.

Boom

He was standing on the old rickety table. The world looked massive to him. It was his dream come true! Well, it was half of his dream come true. He'd need to talk to Grace about the other half. Grace! What time was it? He pressed the button on his collar and appeared in what he now called the machine room. He picked up his phone and it exploded in his hand from a massive static shock.

He wasn't seriously hurt, just surprised, but his phone was useless. He found a wall clock in the living room and saw that it was eleven at night. He decided to show Grace a little earlier than he planned in order to make up for his neglect. He hoped she would be as excited as he was. He tried the kitchen table at her house at six centimeters and hoped she was still up.

Boom.

Grace nearly spilled tea on herself in her shock. He was glad he had chosen the middle of the table seeing as the machine didn't show people or moving objects, "Grace, I'm sorry, but my phone is somewhat exploded. I figured I needed to show you what I found," He gesticulated wildly as he spoke shivering with excitement.

"Paul? How did you get so small, and why are you nude on my table?" Grace asked. They both blushed as he suddenly realized what he had done and covered himself with his hands.

"It only transports me. My clothes sort of stay behind," Paul said, "The house uncle Charlie left me has a machine in it that can teleport me and change my size at will,"

"That sounds impossible and dangerous," Grace said.

"I have it figured out though. It's safe as long as I know where I'm going. I thought I should pop in to tell you I'm ok since I broke my phone. I also had a question to ask you," Paul said.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Well, this is going to sound weird no matter how I say it, so I guess I should just get on with it. Would you be willing to swallow me?"

"What? Why would I want to do that? Why would you want me to do that?" She asked. She looked confused and concerned for his mental health, like she thought he'd gone completely round the twist.

"I have always been curious about what it would be like, and now I have a safe way to find out," He said.

"Safe? What could possibly be safe about me swallowing you?" She asked.

"Watch this," Paul pushed the button and vanished. He reappeared on the far end of the table a few seconds later, then vanished again. He reappeared in the center again and walked over to her. His hair was standing on end. He touched a wax fruit centerpiece to discharge. There was a pop and the side of an apple sagged a bit, "Sorry, static,"

"What was that supposed to prove?" Grace asked.

"I can vanish and reappear in the machine room from anywhere as soon as I push the button on this collar," Paul said displaying the piece of metal around his neck, "If you swallow me, I'll just reappear in the machine room. I'll even come back here to show you that I'm still intact,"

"It sounds like you have given this a lot of thought. You say you've been curious about this for a long time? Why?" Grace asked.

"I have no real idea, but I would really like to share this with you, only if you are willing to do it of course," Paul said. He didn't want to be pushy, and now wouldn't be the time to explain things in detail. She'd been through enough for the night.

Grace sighed. She stared at him and considered what he just said for a while, "I guess since you've wanted to try this for a long time and we have the opportunity, we can give it a go," She picked him up. He was elated, "I really hope I don't hurt you though,"

"Don't worry. I should be fine, I'll just push the button as soon as I get to your stomach," Paul said.

She brought him to her marvelous lips, licked them nervously, "So I just do it then?" He nodded, "Ok, here goes," She placed him carefully into her mouth. He couldn't believe it. He was actually in her mouth and on her tongue! Despite her attempts to stay still her tongue wiggled beneath him, causing him to stumble. He had to remain in a crawling stance. He stroked her tongue gently as he stared down her throat. Her throat. It was right there in front of him. All of his moments imagining this scenario had not prepared him for the sheer size of it. He didn't go toward it out of fear of causing her to gag and change her mind.

He thought about the static from earlier. He really hoped it wouldn't hurt Grace for him to do this. He also never tested the necklace to make sure fluids didn't damage it. What if it didn't work? Maybe he shouldn't do it until he knew for sure. He was just about to turn around and tell her he changed his mind, when she swallowed.

Paul was pulled forward before he could even realize what was going on. His hands shot in front of him for protection and were pulled tight against each other. He couldn't bring them down even if he wanted to. "I guess this means teleporting from the esophagus is right out," He thought. All of his time spent imagining this one event still hadn't prepared him for the sheer tightness of it all. His body was being squeezed all around and forced down. He couldn't adjust for comfort. He couldn't go anywhere but down. His breathing was labored and shallow. He knew he had to save his breath for the stomach. While he had to admit that he was a bit scared, he was also thrilled. Much like riding a roller coaster, Paul found himself enjoying this seemingly dangerous trip. He really liked the feel of the moist wet walls rubbing against his body. The rubbing combined with his excitement posed a problem for him. He couldn't shift to prevent it though, so eventually he spasmed from pleasure and continued on his way down, "I'll just leave that part out when I tell Grace later," he though. He was exceedingly embarrassed.

He couldn't see a thing, only feel. He wasn't sure how long it took, but it felt like time had slowed down for him. His mind was in overdrive. Shortly after his incident, his hands were suddenly in open space. Before he could react the rest of his body fell and landed with a splash in warm liquid. He grunted, but tried not to breathe in. The liquid was thick and hot. It was a mixture of stomach acid, enzymes, and hot tea. The ground was soft and squishy. It started convulsing as soon as he landed, making it impossible to get to his feet. Despite his curiosity, he decided to get out while he could. He pushed the button and noticed the air was much cooler. He was now sitting in a puddle in the machine room freezing from the cool morning air against his wet skin, but he was alive. He was alive, and he had done something that he'd always wanted to try. Paul jumped up and down triumphantly, then teleported back to Grace's table to notify her of the success.

Grace let out a big sigh of relief when she saw him, "I was so worried. Are you ok?"

"Yes! Better than ok. I've never felt this good in my life," He said, "What about you? Was there a shock? Was it uncomfortable at all?"

"I didn't notice anything but the feeling of the lump going down my throat and a few seconds of a fluttery tickle feeling when you finished. It was odd, I'll admit, but not unpleasant," Grace said smiling, "My, but you're a mess, Paulie,"

"I'll clean up in the shower at the new house. I probably won't go home until some time tomorrow. You have to come see this machine though. It's amazing," Paul said.

"I'll try, but first, I need sleep. Try to get some rest, Paulie. Don't go playing with that thing until noon or you'll regret it ok dear?" Grace really looked concerned for Paul.

"Don't worry. I've gotten it out of my system for now," he said, "I'll just take a quick shower and sleep," He gave her directions to the place then pushed the button on the necklace.

Boom!

Paul appeared back in the house and went right to the shower. There was still soap and shampoo. A fresh clean towel was on the rack. Paul washed off and went to the bedroom in the strange new house. It was small and neat. The sheets were clean. He laid in bed and crashed immediately. His sleep was full of pleasant dreams.

Paul woke up at about ten. His sheets clung to him and the bed popped him several times as he got up. After he'd managed to discharge, he went to the machine room and got his clothes. He stood there, staring at the device that had made his dreams come true until Grace showed up. When she knocked, he realized he was just standing there holding his clothes. It was two pm. He got dressed quickly and ran to the door. Grace smiled and hugged him.

"Good to see you dressed," Grace said blushing. She was nearing fifty and until last night had never seen a nude man in her life. The fact that he was tiny and trying his best to remain modest made it more tolerable.

Paul laughed nervously, "Um, yes, well, sorry about that. My phone broke and I needed to let you know I was alright," He took her by the hand, "Come see it. You won't believe it!" Grace had to run to keep up. They made it to the machine room and Paul presented it with a flourish, "Ta-da!"

"That old rusty thing? It looks like it's been here for ages, well, except for the monitors," She stared at it, but made sure not to touch anything.

"Well, It got me safely out of your stomach without a hitch," He said.

"Yes, about that. You say you've wanted to do that for a long time. Care to elaborate?" Grace asked.

"Um, well, It's hard to explain," Paul said shuffling his feet.

"Try. Take all the time you need, dear," She said patiently.

"You see, every since I was a little kid I have had a fascination with women's mouths. I don't know why. I've never understood it, but it has always been there. I have always wondered what it would be like to be swallowed. I've imagined being tiny and getting captured by a woman who wants to eat me many times. Believe it or not, I even write stories about it. I post them online where other people who have similar fantasies read my work," Paul tried hard to maintain composure as he spoke. She wasn't the first person he'd told, and he'd gotten mixed results in the past.

"I see. I take it you enjoyed your little excursion earlier this morning?" She asked.

"Oh yes! It was the greatest moment of my life!" Paul said.

"I'm sure that means you don't want it to be a one time thing," She said. The question was rhetorical, "May I read these stories you talked about?"

Paul's eyes lit up, "If you want to, I'd be delighted to show them to you,"

"I figure If we're going to do this again, we might as well play around with one of the story ideas," She said smiling.

They drove to Paul's house and he showed her his story archive on the site, "Wow," She said, "You really have a lot of stories,"

"Yeah," He said, "I love to write,"

"I'll just read a few for tonight to get an idea. Now that I know where the site is I can check it at home," Grace said. She seemed to be taking to this awfully well. If you want you can come to my house about eleven tonight. If you feel like a snack I will gladly oblige you," She giggled at her own pun.

"Why would you go through all of this trouble?" Paul asked.

"I know I've turned you down for so long. At least this is something we can do together. I'm still pretty worried, but I want you to be happy, Paulie," Grace hugged Paul and made for the door.

"I'm thinking of moving into the other house," Paul said.

Grace stopped, "Why?" She looked worried. They had lived next door for years. It had been a comfort for both of them.

"I can't afford both properties, and I don't know how the machine works or how to move it. If I want to keep it, I have to keep the other house. I know it's out of the way, but I can visit you with the machine any time," Paul said hoping to reassure her.

"I guess that does make sense. I'll miss being able to pop in for tea when I can't sleep though," She said.

"Me too," He said. After Grace went home, Paul packed a few things and headed over to the other house. He'd have to find a way to sell his old one and find out what he could keep and what he could stand to lose. At eleven he was ready to go and decided to appear on her table again.

Boom!

He was on her table. He could tell his hair was standing on end again, so he touched the wax apple a second time to discharge. He flew backward and landed on his rear. The apple was sagging worse on the side he touched now. Grace was washing dishes. She turned and looked at him, smiled, and went back to what she was doing. When she had finished washing and drying the dishes, she brought a cup and a kettle to the table and placed them down. When she did she pretended to be surprised to see him, "And what do we have here on my table?" She asked, "A little treat before bed is it?" She came forward and made to grab for him. Paul ducked behind the fruit bowl, "Come here little snack. It's not polite to keep me waiting," She moved around the table until she finally caught him.

"No no please let me go!" paul yelled. He couldn't prevent himself from smiling when he said it though.

"I'll let you go alright," She said as she grabbed a saucer from the drying rack and placed it on the table. She put him on it and sat down in a chair, "I'll let you go all the way down to my belly," He quaked in "fear" as she picked him up and tasted him a bit. She pretended to relish him before sliding him into her mouth. She played with him for a while this time moaning like she was enjoying his flavor. Paul was ready this time and put his hands to his side. When she swallowed he still went in head first. Once again, the rubbing was a bit too much for him, but he figured what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He curled up and landed in the safest position he could manage. Closing his eyes for the splash. He was able to hold his breath. Knowing she was going to do this, Grace had avoided eating any food since about four in the afternoon, so besides Paul and her natural acid and enzymes, her stomach was empty.

Paul decided to try to play around for a while this time. It was a volatile environment though that tossed him and squeezed him more and more the longer he stayed. His skin began to feel irritated, so he pushed the button. He had to fumble with the necklace a few times because it was slippery, but next thing he knew, he was in the machine room. His skin felt itchy and he showered before reappearing in Grace's house.

"Oh good. You are safe," She said, "When you took a bit I became worried that you didn't make it out,"

"I made it out fine. Just needed a shower before I came back," He said. Grace checked him over to make sure he was unharmed.

"I hope I was enthusiastic enough for you," She said.

"Oh yes!," He said, "You did great!" They said their goodnights and Paul went back to the machine house. The next few days consisted of Paul moving his things and trying to sell the old house. At night he would visit Grace and they would play around. He started appearing on the floor and she would have to hunt for him. When she found him, she'd make a big production of things before she ate him. He learned never to linger in her stomach. He tried to stay and play a second time and almost ran out of breath. His skin was red for two days after that due to minor burns. He didn't tell Grace about it because he didn't want her to get worried and call it all off. She seemed to enjoy the games and sometimes would eat him a few times in one night.

By the second week, Paul was hardly sleeping. He ate very little and would spend much of his free time standing in the machine room feeling the electrical power course through his body. He could hear it hum now and his hair stood on end when he entered the room. He heard a knock at his door one day and made his way to answer it. It was grace and she looked upset.

"You don't look so well. Have you been feeling ok?" She asked.

"I feel better than I have ever felt in my life. I feel energetic, like nothing could slow me down," Paul said.

"Well, I thought I'd come by seeing as we've only been seeing each other during our little games lately. I wanted to see how the rest of your life was going. Any new poems? I could sure use another project. My part time job doesn't really get me far,"

When she said part time job something clicked in Paul's head. He had forgotten to report to his or call in today, "Sorry, Grace, nothing today. Hopefully tomorrow. I just remembered something I have to take care of,"

"Alright," She sounded disappointed, "I guess I'll go home then,"

Paul watched her leave. He didn't know how to feel about it. Was she mad about something? He went back in and checked on the machine to make sure it was ok.

When he appeared at her house that night, she looked surprised to see him. She almost stepped on him, but he discharged near her foot and startled her. She was already in her pajamas and getting ready for bed, "Oh, hey Paulie, I thought you were busy today,"

It was then he remembered he still never called in, "That was earlier. I still thought we were on for tonight," Paul said.

"Um, ok," She said, "I guess I'll give you a twenty second head start and come looking for you then," She said. They played three games before she was too tired and had to go to bed. It wasn't as clean as the other times seeing as she had eaten dinner just before bed. He really didn't like swimming in the debris like that, but thought complaining would make him sound ungrateful.

Paul got up the next day and went to work only to be told that he no longer had a job. He should have at least bothered to call in. The sky was heavy with storm clouds as he drove home. he spent the rest of the day trying to write a poem, but nothing came to him. All he could hear was the buzzing of the machine. He couldn't wait until tonight. It was all he could think about.

When night finally came the clouds had opened up and Paul could hear the rain beating against the roof hard. He didn't even need to go into the machine room to feel the power. Paul adjusted the settings to put him in Grace's bedroom at the appropriate size.

Boom!

Paul appeared and static popped her doorstop, severely burning it. Grace was coming out of the bathroom, brushing her teeth. She sighed when she saw him. She turned around and went back into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste, "I'm really tired tonight. Can't we just skip. I really just need to sleep," Grace said.

"Please, just one? I lost my job today," Paul begged. Grace picked him up from the floor and sat on her bed.

"Poor dear, I suppose I could just do one. It'll just be real quick though, and then I have to go to bed. I have to get up early for a double shift tomorrow," Grace said. Before he could answer, she stuffed him into her mouth and began working him around. They were so used to this by now that she knew exactly how to swallow him and didn't require him to come back to let her know how things went. Paul was a little disappointed in the fact that they didn't' play first, but he could understand her need to go to bed. He got into position and waited for her to swallow. As he was traveling down the esophagus, he felt his world flip. She normally didn't move much when he was in there, but he got the impression that she'd laid down. He couldn't see or tell which way was up, so he wasn't sure though. The drop was different when he got to her stomach. He landed with a splash and went to push the button. Click. Nothing happened.

Grace quickly swallowed Paul and laid down in the bed and covered herself. She had to admit, that his movements felt comforting. Combined with the rain they helped her fall asleep quickly. He was still in there playing around when she went under, "Silly boy. I hope you aren't doing anything naughty in there," She said as she drifted off to sleep.

Back at the house, the machine steamed from a lightning strike that had blown the power source. The charge of the machine had attracted the storm to it. Nothing was severely damaged, but it did turn off and would need to be restarted.

At about seven AM Ernest's phone rang. He was just getting off of work. The caller ID said restricted, "Hello?"

"Ernest Richards?" A somber voice asked.

"Speaking," Ernest said.

"I regret to inform you that your brother has passed away," The voice said.

Ernest was panic stricken, "Which one?" He had three.

"Mr. Paul Trip," The voice said.

"I know a Paul Trip, but he's not my brother, or at least not from the water of the womb," Ernest said.

"Well, he left you everything in his will. You will need to come check out the house soon," The voice said.

"But, isn't he in," Ernest started, but the voice cut him off.

"Don't worry. We have already paid for your plane tickets. You and your family can come. I believe your days of worrying about transportation are about to be behind you," the voice said.

"Who is this?" Ernest asked. There was a click followed by silence on the other end.

Disembodied narrator voice, "It is said that if you want to make a  man miserable, you give him exactly what he wants. A lesson Mr. Trip has learned all too well, in the Oishi Zone,"