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CHAPTER 1: STEVE Unexpectedly Unprepared Ambulatory Responses

There was a big bang, and suddenly, there was light. 

Steve painfully scraped open his left eye to the harsh world of the hung-over, paused, decided to close it again, and then did his very-near-to-best in rolling out of, what he considered very likely to be, his bed. 

Slowly, he donned his robe, and made his way to his downstairs living room in search of coffee; quietly wondering to himself if someone had glued sandpaper to the inside of his eyelids, and what, if anything, that unwelcome noise he’d heard, should have meant to him. 

"Blinking should never be painful…" he mumbled to himself, while attempting to navigate his way down the staircase that would lead him to his kitchen and the coffee therein, without opening his eyes.

Life hadn’t always been this way for Steve.  When he’d been a young lad, his parents had constantly insisted that he’d been destined for great things.  Steve, at the time, had been generally inclined to agree with them.  Lately, however, he was beginning to have his doubts.

If, for example, you were to tell him that he’d be saving the entire solar system before his 25th birthday, he’d likely ask you for a taste of whatever it was you’d been drinking.  Then again, he’d likely do that anyway.  But regardless, all but a smallish part of him wouldn’t believe that he was capable of doing anything quite so dramatic or socially impactful.  But then, he also didn’t believe there were any pop tarts left in the fridge.  Life was full of pleasant surprises.

Steve's life was, as he was frequently reminded, also filled with not-so-nice surprises.  Like smacking one's shin upon one's coffee table, or having one's girlfriend walking in on one, and one's other girlfriend.  Or, in the case of today, slipping on, (and, insofar as his foot was concerned, in), a moldy sneaker, falling down one's stairs and being met with a quite large, four-armed and multi-tentacled rhino-like fellow, with a futuristic dress sense and a weapon that could only be immediately described, as a rather large gun with an excessive amount of tubes, and blinking lights.

As Steve scrambled to his now partially enshoed feet, he couldn't help but be a trifle disappointed that video games had not, as he'd secretly hoped, prepared him for this type of thing.

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