[ WP ] An excerpt from the most cliché young adult novel

`` You're a warlock, Harryhausen,'' the smooth voice on the other end of the line said. 
 
 I pushed my thick glasses up my rather generic albeit Caucasian nose. `` I'm... sorry?'' 
 
 `` A warlock. A magician. A quasidemigodling,'' he said. `` One who can see through the code walls into the elemental CyberMagic^TM that burns at the heart of time. A soldier, if not a prince, in the grand army of the lightdarkness.'' 
 
 `` Uh... huh.'' 
 
 He paused to take a sip of what was no doubt some priceless vintage of wine. `` Also, it's like a witch. Only male.'' 
 
 `` Right.'' 
 
 `` Except not really,'' he said with a sigh. `` There are female warlocks now, too, you know.'' 
 
 `` Okay.'' 
 
 `` It's a Title IX thing, you see.'' 
 
 `` Okay.'' 
 
 `` But forgive me. You must have questions.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, a few,'' I said. `` For one thing, how do you know my last name?'' 
 
 He laughed. `` Oh, I know many things, Locke Portentous Harryhausen. A great many things. I know who your real parents are, and the sad fate that befell them. I know the name of the sword that awaits you in your grandfather's tomb. And most important of all -- look into the front of the shop. Now.'' 
 
 I looked over the counter. `` Yeah?'' 
 
 `` Do you see the men in business suits?'' 
 
 `` Uh, yeah.'' Which was n't really saying a whole lot. We were in Midtown, after all, just a block or two down from the big banks. 
 
 `` They're not men,'' he said, `` You are in great danger. They are the Slendarr Men. The witch finders. The hunters from the forces of beige. If they catch you, you'll be forced to fight other children to death in front of a live television audience under a crimson sky. And with a *laugh track. *'' He spat those last two words out bitterly. 
 
 `` That does sound pretty evil.'' 
 
 `` It is.'' He took another sip. `` You must come to me immediately. I can protect you, but not for long.'' 
 
 I gave in. He seemed pretty upfront for a mentor-type character. I could respect that. Besides, what the heck did I care? I was hourly. `` I guess I can do that.'' 
 
 `` Good, good.'' 
 
 `` I just have one more question --'' 
 
 `` Your very existence is in danger, child,'' he said irritably. `` Be swift.'' 
 
 `` Uh, well...'' I cleared my throat. `` Do you want breadsticks with that?'' 
 
 He paused. `` Can I have those cinnamon things instead?'' 
 
 I consulted the menu clipped to the side of the pizza oven. `` That'll be $ 2.99 extra.'' 
 
 He let out a deep sigh, as if he bore the entire weight of the universe on his back. ``... *fine. *'' 
 
 I entered his full order into the register. `` Your total comes to $ 20.99. I'll have it out to you in forty min --'' 
 
 He hung up. 
 
 `` -- utes,'' I finished. I scratched the side of my head and gave the businessmen on the other side of the counter a nervous look. The one in front by the register that Sarah was helping wore just a speedo under his otherwise flawless three-piece Armani. I supposed I should be grateful he was wearing pants at all. We were n't that far off from Times Square, either. 
 
 Anyway, it seemed I had a delivery to make. Little did I know just how far that small cheese pizza, cinnamon sticks and sixteen-ounce diet soda would take me. In space... in time... and in spirit.
