Never As It Seems

Another Plan

"Hello, people of this room," he began, trying not to feel too overloaded by the assemblage of people that was now staring at him like he was a ghost of some sort. "I am Flames Pond, and I have returned. First off, let me dispel any fears you might have and say there is no way in Hell that I am a criminal of any sort. Seriously, the worst thing I've done in the past day or so was get arrested for being myself. That was it. I just got arrested because a policeman recognized me. Does that seem just to any of you?" 

There were a few cries of "No!"

"No, I didn't think so. Everyone else assumes I killed an agent who used to work here by the name of Jenna, as you're probably aware. Now, I'm going to make this very, very clear. I am not a killer. I'm eighteen. I used to go to the café every day to buy French vanilla cappuccinos, because I thought they were the highlight of my life. I have a very sweet girlfriend, who invites me to play games meant for eight-year-olds because she genuinely thinks it's fun." 

He heard Annmarie laugh. 

"Look at me," he continued. "I have messy hair. I've got a T-shirt on that I haven't washed in...probably years. My shoes are all worn out. Do I look tired? It's because I am. I haven't eaten a proper meal in days because I've been trying to get everything fixed, not because I'm hatching another evil plot. Heck, I got fired from my job as a field agent because I didn't kill anyone! So what does all this useless information boil down to? Just this: I. Am not. A criminal." 

There was a sudden burst of applause from everyone in the room, and he stood there smiling for about ten seconds before it died down again. 

"Thank you. Now, I have been away for a while, I'll admit it. And yes, I did miss practically everything important that has been going on since early this month. But I've caught on quickly, and I've decided all I want to do is get rid of it. Everything, not just my horrible reputation but the Fuzzy Guy's reign of terror as well. I want to make AY5 the place it was when I left it: a place of fighting, a place of learning, and a place of, albeit probably begrudging, acceptance." 

"Man, he's going for the big words," said Annmarie to Adam. 

"It's working," he replied. 

"Now, I've got some friends with me," Flames continued. "They've decided they're not going to stand for any of this, either. And I'm here right now because I think everyone in this room feels the same about this situation. We want to get rid of it; it doesn't matter how, we just want it gone. I think we can come up with something that will allow for all this to be taken care of for good. I have some ideas, but this is going to be a group effort, so does anyone out there have any ideas on how this could work?" He turned around to face the audience, a lot of which had gathered around the screen to get a better look. A myriad of hands went up immediately. 

"Oh, gosh," said Flames quietly as he stared at the crowd. "I don't know who to pick..." 

Annmarie walked up to him and poked him. "Don't worry, I'll handle this," she said, and he stepped to the side to allow her to fully face the camera. 

"Hello there," she began. "I'm Annmarie Monson, previously mentioned as Flames' girlfriend. Flames isn't really here right now and doesn't know how to pick people to answer questions, so he'll be here right with me to answer them while I call on people. You okay with that, Flames?" she said to him. 

"I guess," he said. 

"All right. How about you, the lady up front with the brown ponytail? Yes, you." 

The lady turned around to see where the camera was and said in a loud voice, "We know where the Fuzzy Guy is right now. We know when he has guards and when he's left alone, and when he takes lunch breaks - we even know what time he usually wakes up in the morning. I say we use all this information to our advantage and attack him when he's most vulnerable."