I’m extremely happy to announce that my fun, frivolous short story about bank robberies, body theft, and bottled up frustration “On His Birthday, Reginald Got”,will be available for FREE to attendees of FutureCon 2011-2012! FutureCon is a New Year’s Eve convention and fundraising drive that supports Epilepsy Toronto.

The short story will be available to attendees in a special limited-run booklet. I’m especially excited because this publication also features a brand new story by multi-Aurora Award winning author Derwin Mak.

For those who would like the story, but aren’t attending FutureCon: I am told that FutureCon is working out a way for people to donate via PayPal and receive a copy of the booklet. Stay tuned to my Twitter account for an announcement.

On His Birthday, Reginald Got

On his 257^th birthday, Reginald got stuck in a bank.

Well, yes alright, it was a bank robbery, but you know, it sounded better to say “in a bank.”  Less horrifically embarrassing.

Imagine, someone like Reginald Schilverspün (and he’s heard all the jokes about being born with things his mouth, and yes, they’re all very clever but, you know, after 257 years the joke gets rather tired don’t you think? So he’ll thank you very much for not telling it. Besides, he wasn’t.) Imagine! Reginald getting stuck in the middle of a bank robbery on his birthday. 

Really now; only Reginald.

Reginald hadn’t meant to be in the bank at the same time as the robbers, only it was his birthday. He was going to pull out exactly one hundred dollars to buy new shoes and a haircut. 

The first thing Reginald always did after his birthday was finished was buy a pair of solid leather shoes. Then Reginald went to a barber, the kind with the striped poles outside and straight razors inside, the kind that did haircuts the way young men should have them, not the sort that flop about in a man’s eyes.

Reginald did not like using the plastic, faceless bank machines.  They beeped at him and electric lights always hurt his eyes. That was one of the draw backs of having the sort of birthdays that Reginald did.  Instead, Reginald liked to go inside to smile prettily at the nice young ladies in the smart suits. He preferred the personal touch of a teller, although he missed the crisp smell of the pink slips that he used to fill out.

Had Reginald used the machine today, his eyes would be smarting, but he would not be stuck in the bank.