This is another tricky one. Living under the existence where actually I am wrong most of the time and everyone else is so right doesn’t give me a lot of experience to go on…
‘You realise that you’re wrong, don’t you?’ I said. I encounter this all the time. Stupid, mindless individuals who don’t even have the capacity to know that they are incorrect. You see, I have a problem. I always know. Literally, I just know. Absolutely everything. Square root of three? No problem. Capital of the fictional country of Artingunay, the lone creation of Walter X. James, author of the Emberglow series? Never had an easier question. The fact is that everything that has ever existed, fictional or otherwise finds a nest inside the tree the planted its roots in my head long ago.
So yes, that is how I am right so often. I know everything. To the most minute detail. Some say it’s a blessing. I mean, I’m great at pub quizzes until there’s the slightest ambiguity in the answer and then I will argue until the quizmaster is blue in the face. I’m actually banned from the Rose and Crown and the Wobbly Blancmange, ever since I told the quizmaster for the two of them that he was wrong about… Well, a lot of things. I’m sure a lot of you reading this are shouting, saying that the Wobbly Blancmange absolutely isn’t the name of a pub. Remember, you’re talking to man who knows literally everything. I can hardly lie if everything I know is the truth?
As you can imagine, this has got me into some trouble before now. Arguing with policemen about the finer points of the law. Arguing with lawyers about the finer points of the law. In fact, arguing with a lot of people… One man told me he was going to punch me so hard I would taste my own lungs. I told him that that was physically impossible.
He punched me, it hurt, but I didn’t taste my own lungs. I have to say, sometimes it’s hard being right. Still, someone’s got to do it. It’s my vocation, my job, my curse…
That is, until I met somebody else who knew everything. That’s when it all changed. The day I met Carter Branton. Carter Branton was my equal in every way. Just under average height, grey eyes, dark hair. The smug smile of a man who knows it all.
I hated him from the very first moment he opened his stupid, fat mouth and said ‘You realise that you’re wrong, don’t you?’
The Idiot In Tin Foil