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Sometimes my parents like to call me their little hell spawn as an endearing reminder that when I was in middle school my dream was to take over the world. I even once demanded that they call me Haron, their demon overtaker. It only lasted for a couple of weeks before my parents took me to therapy and had me fixed.

Now they call me Norah and I'm taking over the world one business at a time, starting as a junior accountant. Someday I'll be at the top.

Speaking of work, it's eight in the morning on Christmas day and the buses are out of service. Can't say the same for my job because come hell or high water I have to be there. I've never been much a fan of Christmas anyway because I grew up in an Atheist household. Imagine if I hadn't? I'd have been strapped to a bed and exorcised until the priests gave up and conceded I was a just troubled youth. No thanks.

One of my many charms is that I don't get cold in the winter, not very easily. So a walk to work in conditions like this? A breeze! Pun intended. At least, it was until I ran into a pair of idiots carrying a vat of acid. And it burned.

It happened like this...

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