Magical Girl?! But I Was a Dude!

Chapter 7: Glitter is Forever, and So is Bureaucracy

Chapter 7: Glitter is Forever, and So is Bureaucracy

The next morning, I was staring at the half-filled form, which was still annoyingly glittery despite my best efforts to brush off the sparkles. I had spent half the night trying to come up with decent answers to questions that should never be asked in the first place.

"Preferred level of villain sparkle? How is this a legitimate question?" I muttered to myself.

Fluffbuns floated beside me, looking way too chipper for someone who didn’t have to worry about weekly monster fights.

"I think you should pick a level 7. It’s just the right amount of sparkle! Not too much, not too little!" the tiny floating fluffball chimed in.

I glared at it. "There is no 'just right' when it comes to sparkle, Fluffbuns. The answer should be zero. Zero is the correct amount of sparkle."

Fluffbuns giggled. "You’re such a grump! Sparkles make everything more fun!"

I groaned and slumped over the table. "Fun? FUN? Yesterday, I fought a glitter octopus that looked like it had rolled through a craft store. How is that fun?"

"At least it didn’t explode into glitter!" Fluffbuns said, trying to find a silver lining.

I lifted my head just enough to glare at it. "That’s not helping."

Just as I was about to crumple up the form and pretend none of this was happening, there was a knock at the door of the inn where I’d been staying. I sighed and dragged myself over to open it, only to find a chipper-looking mailman standing there with a giant pink envelope.

"Delivery for the magical girl!" he said brightly, handing it over.

I stared at the envelope in horror. "Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is."

The mailman just smiled and tipped his hat. "Enjoy your subscription! It’s a premium service, after all."

As soon as he left, I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the contents. Inside was a glittery pamphlet that read, Congratulations! Your next villain will arrive in just three to five business days!

I almost threw the thing out the window. "Are you kidding me?! Three to five business days? I barely survived the octopus!"

Fluffbuns, ever the optimist, bobbed up and down. "Maybe this one won’t be so bad! Who knows? It could be a glitter bunny or something harmless."

I buried my face in my hands. "Why does everything have to be glittery? Why can’t they just send, like, a regular, non-shiny villain? Is that too much to ask?"

"I guess you’ll find out in three to five business days!" Fluffbuns chirped.

I glared at the little floating ball of fluff. "You’re not helping."

With the looming threat of yet another sparkly menace hanging over my head, I decided it was time to take action. The form wasn’t going to fill itself, and I didn’t have the luxury of waiting around for four to six weeks. If I was going to survive this subscription nightmare, I needed to go straight to the source.

"We’re going back to the Enchanted Delivery Company," I declared, grabbing my staff.

Fluffbuns gasped. "But you already filled out the form!"

I shook my head. "Not good enough. I’m not waiting for them to process this thing. I’m going to march in there and demand they cancel my subscription on the spot."

With newfound determination, we set off once again toward the Glittergrove, though my enthusiasm quickly waned as the glitter-covered trees came into view. If there was one thing I hated more than the monsters, it was the constant barrage of glitter that came with living in this world.

By the time we reached the Enchanted Delivery Company’s headquarters, I was already mentally drafting my complaints. I wasn’t leaving until I had some answers—and a cancellation, preferably.

The same receptionist from before greeted me with that unnervingly chipper smile. "Welcome back! How can we help you today?"

I slapped the glittery pamphlet on the counter. "I want this subscription canceled. I’m not fighting any more ridiculous, sparkly monsters. No octopuses, no bunnies, no were-glitterwolves—nothing. Cancel it. Now."

The receptionist’s smile faltered for a moment. "I see. Well, as I mentioned before, canceling the Villain Subscription Program is a bit tricky—"

"Enough with the tricky!" I snapped. "I want it canceled, no more glitter-covered villains, no more random weekly attacks, no more sparkle. Got it?"

The receptionist blinked, clearly not used to this level of aggression from a magical girl. "I, um, let me see what I can do."

She tapped away at her glittery tablet, her fingers moving with the speed of someone who wanted this conversation to be over as quickly as possible. After a few moments, she looked up with an apologetic smile.

"Good news! I’ve expedited your request. It should be processed within two to three weeks now instead of four to six."

I stared at her, unblinking. "That’s not what I asked for."

"Unfortunately," she said, still smiling, "we can’t cancel your subscription outright until the Final Boss has been defeated, as per the terms of service."

My eye twitched. "What if I just… don’t fight the villains? What if I refuse?"

She gave me a pitying look. "I wouldn’t recommend that. The longer you leave them unchecked, the stronger they get. Eventually, they could become… problematic."

"Problematic?" I repeated. "As in, ‘destroy-the-village’ problematic?"

"Exactly!" she said, as if this was a completely normal conversation.

I let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Okay, fine. I guess I’m stuck with this subscription for now. But I’m going to fight this Final Boss as soon as possible and get out of this nightmare. Deal?"

The receptionist nodded, still smiling. "Deal! And remember, if you ever need help, you can always call the Celestial Support Line."

I groaned. "No more support lines, thanks."

We left the building, and as soon as we were outside, I slumped against a glitter-covered tree. "This is hopeless."

Fluffbuns hovered next to me, trying to be encouraging. "Hey, at least you got the form expedited! That’s something, right?"

I glared at it. "Expedited? It’s still going to take weeks. And I still have to fight this ‘Final Boss’ before I can cancel the subscription."

Fluffbuns gave me a sympathetic look. "Well… at least you have time to prepare!"

I sighed. "Yeah, prepare for more glitter monsters."

As we made our way back to the village, I couldn’t help but feel like this world was actively working against me. Between the constant sparkles, the ridiculous terms of service, and the never-ending bureaucracy, it seemed like I was trapped in a never-ending cycle of magical mayhem.

But one thing was clear: if I was going to survive long enough to cancel this subscription, I needed to be ready for whatever glittery, over-the-top monster came my way next.

Because knowing my luck, it was going to be something worse than a glitter octopus. Much, much worse.