Chapter three! Thank you to everyone who reviewed! ^_^

"…that would be me." I showed the man my ID, which was still hanging from the lanyard around my neck. The man - Dan, his nametag red Dan - smiled.

"Glad I caught you! I hear you run an odd schedule."

"Yeah….Full Sail student." I blinked as Dan presented his clipboard to me. Now I could see the logo at the top of the paper. "F.M.B.E." stood for "Flying Mint Bunny Express". Wait….

"Sign here, please." A pen suddenly appeared on the clipboard. Blinking, I took the pen and signed my name in the appropriate place. In print, not cursive. I don't use cursive. It made my 4th grade year a hell, so I'm boycotting it for the rest of my life.

So far, so good.

"Thank you." Dan took the pen and clipboard back, grinning. "Your next Unit will be delivered in two days. I live down the street, so it'll be delivered as soon as it arrives." He smiled and tipped his hat at me. "Have a nice day!" I watched Dan walk down the stairs and across the street, until he disappeared around the corner.

So cute…wait.

I turned to look at the box on my doorstep. It towered (relatively speaking) over my diminutive 5'1" figure. There was barely enough room between the box and my front door for me to reach in and unlock it. Certainly not enough space for me and my backpack.

This…..was not going to be fun.

It took me an hour, from getting my front door unlocked to squeezing my backpack inside to dragging the box inch by hard-fought-for inch, to get the damn thing into my apartment. I managed to get it laid out lengthwise on my carpet (it really wasn't as heavy as I expected) in my living room, which needed something to fill the empty space, anyway.

Maybe I could use the box as a coffee table?

But first I had to open it. There was a smaller (okay, not smaller, thinner) box taped to the side of the larger one, so I raided my closet (of art supplies and spare jackets) for one of those 98 cent throwaway knives I'd gotten from Home Deop for my three-plane depth project, and cut through the tape.

Inside the box was a paperback manual, which I pulled out first, several various articles of folded clothing, a hockey stick, and…..oh my god, was that a polar bear? It wasn't just a plush toy…..I could see it breathing…Nunavut pushed through my legs and stuck his head into the smaller box, sniffing at the polar bear. It growled. Nunavut yelped and jumped back, nearly knocking me over.

"Nunavut!" My puppy whined and crawled beneath the couch. I sighed and picked up the manual, eyeing the polar bear - Kumajirou, right? It didn't move again, so I started flipping through the manual. "Congratulations…you have just received your very own MATTHEW WILLIAMS Unit, a.k.a.: CANADA…ohmigod, Nunavut, I WASN'T dreaming!" The gray Newfie whined.

"To activate your CANADA Unit…." I started skimming through the directions, excited now. "Hmm….well, I can't cook….I can't speak French, unless cursing counts….I don't know anything past 'Oh Canada'….I HATE Cyrus AND Bieber, and Gaga is a NO." I sighed. "Crap, that's three out of four options gone." I snapped the manual closed.

"….Nunavut, fetch the remote." My dog crawled out from under the couch and turned into my bedroom. He returned with my TV remote in his mouth. "Good boy." I took it from him. "Nunavut, it may add another $15 to our cable bill this month, but I'm going to buy the NHL channel." Nunavut whined. "It's the only option we can do!" I argued.

Thirty minutes later, I had the screen all set up on my TV. I put Nunavut in the corner of the room between the TV and my bed, so he was out of the way of any flying box parts, and selected 'BUY'. Once the transaction was complete, I flipped up and up and up through the channels until I found the right one. There was a game already in progress. The Philadelphia Flyers verses the Vancouver Canucks.

For one panicked moment, I hit mute. Nunavut looked at me and whined. I hesitated, leaning around the doorway to eye the box lying oh so innocently in my living room. The manual said he'd wake up rather violently…..maybe I should be armed?

I dropped the remote on the bed and darted across the living room. I jumped over the box on the floor, reached behind the lamp on the table in the corner, and pulled out my own hockey stick. It was a goalie stick, so it was bigger, and definitely heavier than the one Matthew came equipt with. It should do the trick, for now.

I ran back across the room and snatched up the remote, holding my stick defensively in my other hand. Nunavute whined and curled up on the floor. I sighed, fingering the volume control. "Well, Nunavut….here goes nothing." I hit the button.

"….-ANCOUVER CANUCKS SCORE! IT'S 4-3 WITH 2:10 LEFT IN THE SECOND!"

Perhaps that was not the best way to wake Mattie...