A Castle of Flames and Ice

Joan Foster was not your average everyday person. Yes, she woke up in the morning in a bed and drank coffee or tea, or sometimes neither, and put on clothes made of fabric. She ate breakfast in the house she lived in, and got to her workplace in her car, or on public transportation, or on foot. She worked until her lunch break, during which she ate food, and once she was finished eating food with her mouth she went back to working where she worked. She went home the same way she came, and ate dinner in her house, then did things until it was time to go to bed in her bed so she could do it all over again the next day.

But Joan was different from all the other human people who did all those things. Because on weekends, Joan Foster wasn't like all the other people who didn't go to work and eat lunch made of food and then go back to work and go home. She was a super duper sneaky super spy.

On the weekends, Joan Foster, or rather, John Frank during that time, traveled all around the world spying on people that needed to be spied on. Sometimes she would go to places where people worked and spy on them or go to castles with flames and ice and spy on the people inside of those castles that were inside.

One time, when Joan was spying on people, however, it turned out that she herself was being spied on by a spy that spied on people! When she found out that she was being spied on by a spy, she took out her spy weapons that she used to hurt people and threw them at the spy, which then hurt the spy since the weapons were made for hurting people. The spy gasped by inhaling with his mouth open, and yelled, "ouchie!" while yelling.

Joan looked at the spy with her eyes and smiled, showing her teeth that were white, but slightly yellow because she brushed them, but not as much as her doctor told her to since her doctor told her to brush them more, but she did not. With her smiling mouth she said, "That's what you get for spying, you sneaky spy!"

The spy shook his head by turning it side to side, then took off his mask, because he was wearing one. Underneath the mask that he just took off was a rectangular head, but not exactly rectangular because that wasn't possible. His head was taller than it was wide, because that's how heads work. Joan recognized this man. His name was Rutherford Birchard Hayes, but everyone just called him Rutherford B. Hayes because that was one syllable less, and it took less time and energy to say so people preferred it so that Rutherford B. Hayes' name wouldn't get so tiring to say.

"You're Rutherford Birchard Hayes!" Joan exclaimed, by talking in a surprised way because she was surprised.

"That's Rutherford B. Hayes to you," Rutherford B. Hayes said. "And I only spied on you because you spied on me, you sneaky spy. So it looks like you're the only sneaky spy here. And I am not the spyer, I am just the spyee."

"But how did you know I was spying on you?" Joan asked, because she wanted to know. "People never know I'm spying on them."

"People know more than you think," Rutherford B. Hayes said, "And we all know that you are a big bad super duper sneaky superspy. And we all know your one weakness."

Joan gasped the same way that Rutherford B. Hayes did before, because they both had lungs and mouths so they gasped the same. "No! You can't know my super secret sneaky deaky weakness!"

Rutherford B. Hayes stepped closer to her with his legs. "Oh, but I do," he said, because he did. And then he pulled something out of his pocket.

"Tomato sauce!" Joan exclaimed, because it was tomato sauce.

"Yes," Rutherford B. Hayes said, "And I will use it on you if you don't run really fast in that direction with your eyes closed." He pointed in a direction behind Joan.

"Sounds simple enough," Joan said, because she could run and she could close her eyes, so this would be easy to get away from the tomato sauce which was her weakness because she did not like tomato sauce.

She turned in that direction, closed her eyes, and ran. She ran with her legs, pumping her arms back and forth too because that's how you run. But then, the unexpected happened.

But it wasn't unexpected for Rutherford B. Hayes, because that's why he told Joan to run in that direction with her eyes closed in the first place. But he didn't know that Joan was Joan. To him, Joan was John Frank, because that's what I said earlier and it's funny. But he still knew Joan was a woman. Women can have men names too, DARRYL. I don't know a Darryl.

Anyway, Joan ran right into something cold and hard, her face smashing on it because she just ran into it. She fell and it fell on top of her, and it was heavy, and cold, because it was cold before. She yelled out, "Help! I fell under something that's heavy and cold!" But nobody came to her rescue. Not Rutherford B. Hayes, not Sir Lancelot, not Matthew Morrison, not Beyonce, and absolutely not Robert F. Kennedy.

She was alone. Alone except for that thing on top of her, because that was still there. She didn't open her eyes because it would have broken Rutherford B. Hayes' rule, but as she felt it become wet on top of her (that's what she said), she knew what it was. It was ice.

As the ice melted on top of her, she heard a roaring. Not a roaring from a lion that roared, but a big scary sound that could be metaphorically described as a roaring. Then suddenly everything felt very really hot. And Joan yelled, "Please, someone help!"

But nobody came to her help.

Rutherford B. Hayes watched in the distance as this woman was simultaneously crushed by ice, and burned to death. He knew she was being burned to death because she then said, "Help! I'm being burned to death!"

He would let her burn.

Joan felt her flesh come off like she was in the scalping chair from Saw IV, except for it wasn't her scalp, it was everywhere, and she knew she wasn't in a Saw movie because Jigsaw died in 2006 and 2007, dummy.

She then felt her face come off, and her muscles and her bones until she was just a brain in some burned-up mush. She was very sad, because she was just a brain in some burned-up mush. She would say so, but she didn't have a mouth because she was just a brain in some burned-up mush.

Then suddenly something, or someone, picked her up. If she had eyes, she could see who it was. But she was now just a brain in someone's hands. But she could still hear, because I said so.

"Why, look atchu there!" The person said Britishly. "What a cutesy little thing, are you? Well, I'm going to take you to my lab and give you a new body."

And Joan couldn't protest because she was just a brain and what was she gonna do, run? Yeah right, you stupid little brain. What a stupid little brain you are, you gonna call your mommy, huh? Yeah yeah right you try doing that.

Anyway she was taken to the lab of this random British dude and given a new body. First she saw her new eyelids, and then when she opened her eyes she saw a man. He was a male guy who had hair, and it was brown and kind of long, but not long. He had a frilly collar around his neck, where collars go, but it was like a shirt collar not a dog collar.

"William...William Shakespeare?" Joan questioned.

The man held up a finger from his hand. "No. It's Bill. Bill Shakespeare."

Joan nodded in understanding, because she understood. "Okay. Hi, Bill Shakespeare."

Bill Shakespeare handed Joan a mirror, where she could see a face, because she was looking into the mirror and could see her face, but it didn't look like her previous face because this face was round and a man's and had a nice nose but a lot of wrinkles. And her hair was white. She looked at Bill Shakespeare.

"You made me a man?"

Bill Shakespeare nodded with his head. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No!" Joan said, I love it.

"Welcome to the secret society of Bills, Bill Clinton."