A/N: Hey everyone, this is the first chapter in what I hope will be a long and well loved fanfic. Each individual chapter is somebody's diary. This one is Ezra. I have to give a big ole' thanks to Aquarian Wolf, who provided much needed help. Please review!
Ezra-
Dear Diary,
I met this guy today. His name is Phineas Queeg, and he's my kind of guy. See we met in this back alley while I was going through my… earnings for today (these rich guys wandering the streets have full wallets and none of them pay attention to their pockets), and Phineas was attempting to avoid the police. It turns out that he's come up with a bunch of miracle cures to common ailments and he travels around and sells them. Some people seemed to get a little miffed when their cure for the flu that's been spreading through town led to an embarrassing rash and a hacking cough, but their nose's HAD stopped running so I'm not sure that they knew what they wanted.
Well Phineas and I got along right away, and he's invited me to travel with him to help out his... business. Tomorrow we're leaving for a new town.
Dear Diary,
Phineas said that it would help to sell his stuff if I did some demonstrations. I informed him that I had known not to drink unknown substances since that unfortunate grease incident, and if he thought that I was going to drink something that came out of that bag he was always carrying around he was insane. He told me that it was worth forty percent and I decided to face my fears.
Dear Diary,
The headache cure DID get rid of all the tension in my head. Unfortunately I took it and passed out for about two days. Phineas managed to get a few hundred though, because he passed it off for a sleeping aid. He came in when I woke up and set that bag of his down asked me if I was hungry, and when I said yes, he opened it up and he pulled out a glass, a canteen full of water, a tea bag, a piece of fudge, and a kettle! And that bag didn't look emptier at all! I'm fairly certain that I caught a glimpse of a wheel and a canary in there. Soon when he's not around I will have to look in that blasted thing, or I'll go insane!
Dear Diary,
He never leaves that bag out of reach! I'm not sure if it's the latest miracle cure or all the suppressed stress, but my hair has begun to fall out. We're finally going to leave this town, (it's been long enough for the side-effects to start showing up in the first customers.) We're headed for this big old estate on the edge of town before we head out. Those people are so rich that they assume common problems of the village aren't their problem, so they wouldn't have heard about us yet. Phineas is pretty sure that they'll offer to put us up in style for awhile, so I hope that he'll be more lax with his security while we're there. I actually watched him pull out everything one could possibly want for a sandwich from that damned bag. I wonder if he has some hair growth… I need some sleep, but tomorrow I'll finally be able to see what's in that bag.
Dear Diary,
Phineas said I should calm down. All the stress has completely relieved the top of my head from hair, and my left eye has developed a horrible twitch. The master of the house won't look at me because he can't keep a straight face and that creepy gipsy woman has predicted my death several times all ready, saying that if I'd only calm down I could live a lot longer, but she just bought Phineas's wart remover (although I haven't seen any warts on her face, or arms, or legs… ok stopping there) and I'd like to see HER calm down when that kicks in.
I think that Phineas knows what's bothering me now, because every time that he goes to pull something out of the wretched thing he gives me this grin. So far today he's pulled a book, a ring of keys that probably opens every door from here to New York, a set of fine linen napkins, a crystal ball to replace the one that he knocked off of Madame Leota's table, three hats, no less that eighty-eight decks of cards, a pie pan, what looked to be a woman's coat, a weeks worth of newspapers, and a pillow. I hate him and his damned bag.
I think when he leaves tomorrow I might stay behind, maybe a little distance will help.
Dear Diary,
This little guy showed up today. He's a little freaky. Around his ankle is this ball and chain, and he's got enough beard to strangle someone with. But once you get to know him… well not get know him I guess, since he barely talks… so once you talk to him… well he's pretty cool because he's more than willing to help me get a peak in that ridiculous monstrosity of physics. He says that he hitched a ride here, and he talked more about cars than anything else so far.
I think that he freaks Phineas out, and I hope that karma catches up with him and gives him an ulcer… or a heart attack… or a brisk walk into a tree.
Dear Diary,
Phineas is looking a little pale, and sounds awful sick. Madame Leota has been humming all day. I have a small suspicion that she has something to do with it. I guess that the wart remover is working then.
Dear Diary,
He's Dead. That Leota woman has been all smiles since he developed the weakness and fatigue, but today she's giggling and practically skipping from room to room.
Me and the little Gus dude are gonna go hitch a ride out of town tonight, because after dinner Leota gave me a look that has me worried.
Dear Diary,
Gus and I have been sitting on road heading out of town for hours now. It's dark and rainy and the worst part is that the thrice damned bag was not in Phineas's room, and I needed to get out of there so I didn't have time to look for it.
Gus has been mumbling to a tree for hours now, and… wait I think I see a car. There are head lights! I've got to go…
Dear Diary,
She ran me over.
The bitch ran me over.
First Phineas, and now me and Gus. And did I get to just go to hell like everyone else in my profession? NO! I wake up to find myself in the attic of Gracey Manor, listening to none other than Phineas chat up some whiny bimbo in a wedding dress.
And worst of all he still has his bag.