₦airaland Forum

AnjaliSwift:
You better go and complete The Designer story, or else... (like your signature implies... Enough Said!

I can't even believe you're agitating for The Designer update sef. Don't forget that you were the one that discouraged me from completing it. And now you're here claiming one thing one thing.
Don't be scared anyways. This GHOST issue is a complete one. I assure you!!!
Don't tell/show Gbemy anything!

GHOST READERS and RIDDERS
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PROLOGUE:
It began after his father died. Four-year old David pointed to his father's ghost saying, 'mummy, see daddy; shebi you said daddy has travelled?'
Mrs. Donald, was jerked into shock as she looked towards where her son indicated; one second she seemed to really see her beloved husband. Then she blinked as if to confirm her doubts. As a blink went simultaneously within a second, he seemed to have vanished. Then tears started to pour from her eyes; she was very sure her emotions had conspired with her imaginations to give life to her dear husband.
'Mummy, why are you crying? Daddy says you should stop crying.' David said with curiousity and concern evident in his voice. His eyes moistened with incoming tears.
Sniffing, Mrs. Donald dabbed her eyes with an handkerchief which stood ready in her hands. 'there is nothing wrong, David. Daddy is not back yet. He would spend a long time where he has gone to.'
David was confused, he could see his dad, but his mum didn't seem to be able to see him. 'but mummy, daddy is here now.' he said as a matter of fact.
'No, David, there is no one there. That is only the television.' Looking closely, she saw the frame of her beloved husband and herself looking back at her. She sighed in relief and said, 'oh, that's just a picture, David.'
He was about to speak again when his ghostly father, placed his fore-finger across his lips. David understood the signal, it meant silence. However, he puzzled on everything. Ever since, he had kept his ghostly encounters to himself.
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STAY TUNED for PORTION ONE

AnjaliSwift:
Na true...
Chapter SIX...I'm waiting for you to surprise me (us)!
Remember, this was were you stopped when you wrote this story on facebook.
Gbemy would be angry if you don't complete/continue this story o.

The fact's that, if you can come back here in about few months time, you MAY find reason not to tell Gbemy anything.
*winks*
I'm not abandoning TheDesigner...as long as it's on NairaLand and I'm not dead...I will surely update and end it.

What to expect from this anecdote:
* FLASH FICTION
* MYSTERY (Paranormal...not really!)
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ATTENTION:
If you are the type that judges a story by it's first updates (which I sometimes do until I read ATTENTIONS like this) then I won't be surprised if you worry me to make updates often (every hour).
(This is my SECOND work on Nairaland which is the reason behind my not entirely copying an author's introduction.)
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DISCLAIMER:
This is not an abandoned project like The Designer. It's a finished project. It's a FLASH FICTION.
Updates would be made everytime I'm worried to make updates...even if it's every MILI SECOND.

GHOST READER and RIDDERS
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DEDICATION:
This anecdote is dedicated to all GHOST READERS.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT:
I recognise the power of what a complaint in agony can cause.
I recognise my elder brother (EddieGrodo, not TheBlessedMan o) who was the originator of the complaint that blessed me with the imagination of this anecdote.
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COPYRIGHT:
©2018 by Agbator I. Anthony (Emperical Ink)
bluewheelsskaters@gmail.com
+2348141514080
+2347013122987
+2349057934064
No part of this story may be reproduced by any means without the prior permission by the author.
Anyone who wishes to repost this story to any other online forum, Facebook group/page, blog or any other website should endeavour to acknowledge the author's identity and kindly notify the author by sending him a mail or call the above numbers.
God bless you all.
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FOREWARD:
To the non-ghost readers who have come across my first anecdote, TheDesigner that proposed huge sense of humour, I assure you that this particular piece is written in the plainest expressions I could make.
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MATURED CRITICISM IS  ALLOWED

The story of the meaning of GHOST READERS!
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The other day, my elder brother ( TheBlessedMan ) complained (anonymously) to me about ghost readers that daily plung into social medias. These are people that actually see your posts, read them but do not comment on them nor make any reaction on them. So, I took some of my time to reflect on these people. I asked myself, ''what would stop a person from responding to a post?'' Well a couple of answers popped into my head.
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Some run from the irrational stress of typing.
Some feel that their response may not be fitting perhaps due to a lack of self-esteem.
Some end up appending a response that they observe others giving.
Some ignore to respond out of pride with the mindset - a puny piece, doesn't require a response.
Others act in arrogance, i've seen better.
While the rest would just ignore it completely in ignorance; with the mentality, 'can anything good come out of Israel?'
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A writer who is oblivious of this may just get fed-up; that is, if s/he gains encouragement from the response of the reader. Considerably, if a writer gains his encouragements from his readers, it bears a manifold of advantages and disadvantages. Advantageous, if the readership is responsive; since, it gives a drive to continue. Disadvantageous, if the readership is not responsive; since the drive has fizzled out.
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Therefore, writers shouldn't base their encouragement only on their readership. It should soar beyond that. Writers should write because it is what defines them. Their readership should be, however, an important stepping stone amidst other important stepping stones. The readership shouldn't be disregarded because they are the ones who immortalise and animate the stories, articles, poems in their minds. The readership completes the process of writing. For what is the purpose of a piece if it has no reader? Nothing.
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Dear readers, you see how very important you are? It is my appeal that you encourage writers wherever you see one. And promote their works by reading, commenting sincerely and sharing with others. Stories are to be heard; lessons are to be learnt.
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This is the voice of the one who has to speak when it has not been said.
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God bless you all as you don't GHOST READ this GHOST READER and RIDDERS anecdote or you would be rid by the GHOST RIDDERS.

Here's ANOTHER one...(The Designer was becoming boring to me).

THE DESIGNER
Chapter FIVE
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Chapter FOUR Summary:
Mr. Blueman's human-angel disappointed him against all odds. To add to his disappointment, he was threatened by cancer. He was also a cartoon freak and a sharpshooter. And there the door bell tolls off.
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Chapter FIVE:
I rushed to the door and peeped through the door's peep-hole.
And there was the best kind of voluptuous woman standing outside my door.
Geez!

I felt the hair at the back of my neck rise. The "middle-man" had risen against the sun which was tucked-in my trousers.
This being was an angel without her brightness to enable her onlookers eat her voluptuous beauty with thier eyes for there was no possible way to look at an angel with her pre-installed brightness.
Mouth-watering she was.
Worse of all she backed my door and I started the ecstatic look from her feet which were on gold high heels, to her polka dot skirt which were cropped above her knee, she was a fair maiden with the sight of the shape of her calves that marched her ankles which were on trinkets, the top she wore was bare at the back like she had no top, but wore the undergarment that supported and carried her...

I removed my attention from the peep-hole, looked at an empty space and wondered.
What was wrong with my human-angel?
Why would she be on this kind of dressing?
How did she come here without being shamefaced?
It's not that she had a car of some or any sort. Besides, she was to come to my condo so we could, together, go for the check-up appointment she thought we had and we were to keep.
With the sight of the little I saw, it was like she was a woman of the night that had already being booked for.
I heard the door bell toll again. I could've opened the door immediately for her to come in, but I decided looking back at the peep hole to check the expression on her face so I would know how to hit her with my words of dressing in such immodest way and her not fulfilling her words.
As I made to look back at the peep-hole, I heard a giggle. There she was, wrapped under the arm of my neighbour with her lips engrossed with his lips.

How come?!
I sighted the neighbour changing the position of his hands from my angel's waist to her buttocks. And there his hand was clutching it like an eagle. He dragged it closer like she was going to escape his clutch on her.
I would've categorized this as sexual harassment, but there she was accepting his lunge at her. She was unsheathing his belt. She unzipped his trousers and dipped her hands into his trousers and wriggled her hands violently like she was strangling the object within the trousers. My neighbour moaned loudly.
I shifted my sight to check her expression, but I couldn't see her face. It wasn't obvious from the peep-hole. I could only see her from her upper lips to her feet. With the little I saw, it was enough sign she was into my neighbour.
And I could imagine how this could be happening to me...again. First, from your mum, and now, from my human-angel.
It reminded me of a Nollywood movie I watched some years back (HELLO) where the guy was tested by his fiancee's father. The fiancee's father fixed the lover in a situation of choosing between twenty million naira as capital to start a business where he would earn nine million naira every two weeks or his daughter. The guy chosed the twenty million which was sent to him via wire transfer, but couldn't harness into the business which he lost and thereafter lost the girl.
That guy's situation was very clear. It was a movie. Mine wasn't. I wasn't even given a choice. Your mother's gucci man didn't even leave his sister, which I'm sure he would have, as a replacement for your mother.
This human-angel was demoted to being a human-demon in my heart.
I was done with this human-demon. I was done with her, just as I was done with that club-girl.
I thought of checking my host-radar for another woman whom I would've no choice to reveal what I, truly, needed her for and we would have a deal. I would pay her handsomely. I thought of making it official by making it a contract job whereby she would sign at the end of the two contract documents. The first would be her keeping absolute secrecy and the second her accepting to be a host to my faulty-incubated-baby. This would involve the law. I would've to call my lawyer to make the contract concrete. I decided calling my best-friend on this update, but I later got another idea which was for my best-friend pretending to be a lawyer to maintain an 100% secrecy.
Wow!

I marvelled at my intelligency. I should've thought of this right from onset. I wondered if it was a must I went through this hard process to understand the way of life? It was unfair. Life was, truly, unfair. I didn't know I would also be a victim of circumstance.
I, later, had another idea, which was for me to publish what I needed on my facebook page and every other social means I could muster to make it more easy and fast.
No! That wasn't a good idea. It would bring scammers trooping into my condo.
To hell with my neighbour and my recent human-demon.
I went to my bedroom, sat on the bed and opened my bed-side drawer. I brought out the host-finder-radar periscope to process my plan. I switched it on and looked into the periscope lens. The image of my human-demon was still there.
I gave some twitchy commands on the periscope to get me another woman, but the image didn't skip as I expected. I clicked the skip button again, but there was no response from the periscope. It was like it had freezed.
I, slightly, hit the device on the drawer twice and looked into the periscope, but the image remained static.
I scoffed. This was funny. Never have I experienced this operation from this naughty device.
I brought out the manual that came with the device that dropped from the lens when I opened the lens cover.
I forgot to admit to you that the manual was the size of a 12ft square paper when I unfolded it. And the paper was completely filled with tiny writings with the font size at 7 at both sides of the paper in complete English Language. Fortunately, at the end of both sides of the paper where contents of the paper. Though, I had read the manual back-to-back. I skimmed through it. I found what I was looking for.
I took the device and looked at the hole of the periscope. I made a different twitchy clicks on the device. Again, the image remained, but, this time, an information appeared.
It was revealed that my human-demon was the only woman the device recommended.
I clicked on the "info" button for more information. It revealed that I, truly, could meet other women who would agree and would be a successful "happy-there-after" with me. But it's recommendation was the perfect pick.
I thought of kicking against its recommendation and doing things my way. How could I go along with its recommendation with what I saw with my neighbour?!
I, then, remembered the periscope could be viewed in video mode. I made some clicks to enable me observe my periscope miscalculation of my human-demon and how she was fairing with my neighbour.
I saw my human-demon taking her bath in her jacuzzi.
Mtweech!
I wasn't elated with what I saw.
I clicked to see the recent video of how she was making up with my neighbour. The video of her jacuzzi bath went away and showed an arrow that was bent as a circle and rotated anti-clockwise on a blue background. It was loading symbol. A black background came on with the words "REFRESHING..." on it. On the disappearance of the refreshing page it went back to showing her in the jacuzzi.
Geez!
She had gone into my neighbour's condo. And was having her bath in his Jacuzzi.
"Gbim"
That was a sound that emanated from the parlour like something heavy fell. I would've think it was my human-demon that came in if I had not seen my door's peep-hole or the periscope which I looked into, sure enough, she was still there.
I ran to the parlour with the periscope with me. Nothing was wrong. No one was there.
"Gbim"
This time it was louder and came from the door.
Wow!
First break-in ever experienced since I bought this condo. I silently ran to the door and managed to peep through the peep-hole after imagining my eye being shot from the otherside of the peep-hole.
What I saw amazed me.
I looked quickly at the periscope's hole, and I saw my human-demon coming out from the jacuzzi.
My human-demon was a human-angel and a human-demon.
My human-angel and demon was a doppelganger!
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STAY TUNED for CHAPTER SIX

THE DESIGNER
Chapter FOUR
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NOTE:
AGAIN, I know my policy states that update brews up every LIGHT days, but do know that I'm TESTING if this update will STICK.
So, for me to update this DARK day doesn't mean I'm KIND.
*winks*
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Chapter THREE summary:
The weekend for Mr. Blueman's baby's host to arrive came and Mr. Blueman prepared for her coming. Beforehand, he had agreed with his human-angel a policy of not calling her or she calling him until they physically saw. While he waited, he developed an idleness flaw of placing bets on ordinary things he thought of. And a personality trait was revealed. Mr. Blueman was a sociopath and sadist to dogs.
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Chapter FOUR:
I envisaged I would be late to work this day which stood to be the first day of the week.
My human-angel disappointed me. My bet had expired and there was great loss. A big stake to the game was what I risked. My mind was already configured as a bet shop. In fact, the mind is an automatic bet shop. Your thought is the bet shop. Your probabilities of making your choice is you picking the best odds that would roll with your decision and make high returns for you. Your decision is the stake you are risking and your ticket.
All in all, this disappointment unleashed on me from my human-angel turned out to be a blessing as I saw myself not preparing anything, but banking on the food I spent 3 hours to prepare for her when she came around.
Truly, each 7 hours of the day, from Friday evening till Sunday evening, I had the food microwaved. I could easily have save myself the stress by refrigerating the food for preservation sake, but I wanted her to meet the food already prepared. I wanted her to be comfortable.
My stomach churned at my delicacy. I microwaved the food and set it down on the food-tray and settled it on the dinning-table. I looked at the wall clock. It was 7:37am. Time wasn't against me for work.
I took my food-tray to the settee's table in the parlour, switched on the plasma and sat on the settee. The decoder was already turned on. I usually don't switch it off due to the plan I made. Switching it off was me given my decoder agency the privilege of having more profit than loss. I couldn't afford the occurence so I always leave the decoder on anytime I subscribed.
I was surprised at the channel the decoder gave me. The channel gave knowledge on a particular health topic I wasn't interested in. The channel was one I never watched. It wasn't my type of channel. How it got to the channel surprised me. Nobody visits me. I made sure of that. I always do the visiting. Nickelodeon was my best channel. It always kept my soul alive. Made me happy and made me snob those that claimed nickelodeon was meant for children. No wonder they were always boring.
The thought of these set of people's comment on Nickelodeon made me stood up to search for the decoder remote control. I searched every tables and possible places to find the remote, but the search effort made were useless as it was no where to be found.
I stopped searching and decided watching what was aired.
I sat down on the settee and held my fork and knife to eat with my napkin strapped to my neck. That was when I realized I was alone. What was the formality about? I thought. I unstrapped the napkin and threw it on the dinning table. The fork was next to be thrown. I targeted my dart-board which was hung on the wall that demarcated the dinning and kitchen. Trust me, I was better than the antagonist in the supernatural movie "Dare Devil". Of course, I hit bullseye on the dart. But worse of all, the force used to throw the fork was strong and that made me wonder when I grew super powers overnight for the dart-board divided into two.
I dropped my food-tray on the settee's table and strolled over to the accident my dar-board faced. Surprisingly, the fork was still hooked on the bullseye. I picked the fork up with half of the board tagging along.
I tried removing the fork out of the board without touching the board. I raised the fork up and down forcefully, and the fork wrenched free from the board. The board clattered to the tiled ground and settled with the divided dart-board upturned. I glanced at the upturned board, there were dirt that pulled out from the board as it clattered down. I went closer to the board to observe. The dirt was moving at a slow pace and at different directions. It wasn't dirt, but woodworms. How it got there was surprising to me.
I looked at the wall were the dart-board was once hung on. Woodworms strapped themselves there too. How could woodworms be on a cemented wall that was made from sand and cement? I wondered. With my mouth agape, I went closer. These weren't cementworms or wallworms, if such exist, which I know doesn't.
I went straight to the store to get broom and the plastic dirt-packer.
As I passed the kitchen to the store, I glanced in, that was when I realized the origin of the woodworm presence at the back of my dart-board. There was a trail of their journey-of-a-thousand-miles which came from the kitchen electric socket. I traced the trail and it led to the point-of-death of my dart-board. I didn't know why I didn't see it while I cooked three days ago.
I continued to the store, got the broom and dirt-picker and changed my route to the kitchen where I started with scraping their trail. There were droppings of woodworms at every scraping.
With the story I heard about these woodworms, they were very great agents of destruction after the devil and war. I rejoiced they didn't eat deeper into the wall but were having a trip to the dart-board like they knew the wood was there.
As I scraped them I packed them immediately so they wouldn't spread to other areas. On packing them, I threw them into the fire place. With the crackle that came from the fire it was obvious enough that the fire was battling with an agent of destruction. And a very good fuel it was to the fire. The fire blazed. I wish the queen of the woodworms would notice this fire's action and be angry and send their trail to the fire place and battle with the fire. That would be a sure trail-blazer.
I chucked dark-black and wasted engine oil into the portal they came from to prevent any further proposal of theirs to enter my condo.
This woodworms reminded me of the day they came visiting again when you were two years old. You were surrounded by them. Just the same way a dead person is surrounded at their funeral. I was relentless on finding their trail so I would send them back to my hell, but there was none. That's a story for another day.
You're wondering how a fore-place could be in a condo? That's one reason why I got the condo at the first place. I've no idea how it got there. The architect that formed the schematic of the building were world class and they employed world class builders too. You will be surprised that the building itself has only one chimney. That's none of your business though.
As soon as I was done with destroying the woodworms, I went back to my dish that was almost becoming cold. I sat down to eat, with the spoon handle bulging out of the dish, without making the prayer before meal, I held the handle and scoop, but it was a knife that held the scoop. I didn't mind. I threw it to my mouth.
Geez!
This was unbearably cold.
I covered the food and microwaved it.
I went back to the settee alongside spoon and bottled water to eat my breakfast.
As I munched away, I looked at the plasma, the same health program was still on air. "The most deadly sickness" was the theme of the program. Cancer was the recent talk. The program host revealed cancer was a serious disease in which growths of cells form in the body and kill normal body cells. She also revealed that earlier detected cancer victims that gets treated at the right time get saved from the disease. The T.V. program host later disclosed that the major physical vectors of cancer were preserved food, preserved drinks, cans, iron or aluminium, bottled perishables, and microwaved foods.
Yeepa ri pa!

Microwaved food!
I stopped munching and left my mouth opened like my jaw was already affected with the cancer.
I ran to the bathroom and forced myself to vomit everything I had eaten. My mouth was soiled with the wasted food.
While I flushed the toilet and washed my face, my door bell tolled.
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STAY TUNED for CHAPTER  FIVE

All these MODs dem eghn...
Na wa o!
The MODs are the major reasons why I've been unable to update, though the MODs are not the only reason why sha. A minor reason exist which is in regards to the witches in the remote area of Delta State, Mosogar. They are in enmity with BEDC (NEPA). And I no get generator, Solar nor this MTN power stuff (Solar noni).

THE DESIGNER
Chapter THREE
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NOTE:
I know my policy states that update brews up every LIGHT days, but do know that I was banned from updating this past Monday.
So, for me to update this DARK day doesn't mean I'm KIND.
*winks*
Should I tell what happened or I should make an extra update?.
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Chapter TWO Summary:
With the aid of the host-finder-radar periscope, Mr. Blueman got she who was suitable to be the host of his faulty-incubated baby. And they got down to things. He enjoyed her personality trait which was mouth-watering to him. He compelled her into going for check-up with him at a hospital in other to avoid stories that touched. That was the foreground of the issue. The background was unknown to her. The hospital he had in mind was his bestfriend's place who had planned with him on 'downloading' the faulty-incubated baby in his human-angel.
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Chapter THREE:
It was weekend.
TGIF - Thank God It's Friday!
Today was unusual for me.
I found myself doing lot things to keep me from being idle. Things I did wasn't negative since it was legal in the outside world.
With me, that act of idleness was unusual. While you grew up, you must have observed I'm never idle except when I'm sleeping. And that isn't considered as idleness.
I was anxious of my human-angel. I anticipated her coming around.
I was never a fan of lottery or virtual bet games, but I knew some basic terminologies used in the game.
True! Soliloquizing comes with you talking to yourself alone, but I brewed up a different definition of soliloquy. I practicalized soliloquy with myself. More or less like the act of masturbation. This brought me to placing bets on everything around me. I even went further with my eccentricity and opened, within my head, a personal bet shop.
I left work earlier than expected of me. I couldn't take the chance of leaving my human-angel outside since she had no spare key to go in on my absence.
As I drove home, I went to my bet shop and checked the table to check existing games. The odd of meeting her at my door was lesser than not meeting her at all. I checked the handicap to see the odd there. It was crossed. "Meeting her at the door" and "not meeting her at the door" were the only options which carried the odd of 50.00 and 2.00 respectively. I placed my bet on not meeting her at the door. My ticket was printed.
As I got to the gate that led to the house of my condo, there was no one standing there. I searched to see if anyone was lurking around. There was someone who took my attention. I smiled and I jerked forward and stepped on the brake. My action stirred up the concentration of who I smiled at. I made eye-contact and locked it. It was a mongrel that was taking possession of his province. The mongrel unlocked the eye-contact and sniffed about were he just possessed.
I wondered were this mongrel could be straying from. Where could the 'uselessness' presence of the security be. It made me wonder why the security agency attested against the pet-agency and decided taking over their duty. I wander my concentration to other places I imagined pets could be and there were different pets around.
I looked back at the mongrel, it's fur were sheepish black. It sniffed to the middle of the gate and stopped and tried pooping. I amazed at the skill he was using. His muscles were all around his limbs and hind, and as soon as he was done, he straightened up and tried walking away, but he squabbled. One of his hind leg and found a space into the slide of the gate.
I laughed at its predicament.
You see my dear, I hated dogs...with passion.
I pimped at the house gate four times and the gate slid open slowly to the left. The gate was approaching the dog.
And the mongrel whimpered at the fate that was approaching his character.
He barked at the gate. Unfortunately, the gate was dead and didn't understand the fate of the dog as the dog thought it did.
I pimped twice and the gate paused. I gave the dog 10 seconds time limit to be freed from his captivity.
The distance between the dog and the gate was a hair's breadth. The dog struggled and even gnarled at the space that held his captured leg.
As I was about placing bet that the dog would not escape the time. But before I could place my bet...
Time-out!
I pimped four times again. And there was a mixture of a slow squash and crunch, and a loud continuous whimper. There was a humming sound that came from the gate. It was struggling to open and it vibrated. And the dog kept gnarling at the gate and barking to be freed from its predicament. The dog was freed and the gate successfully slid open.
The dog was freed from the gate with a trail of blood following it as it limped off. I looked at the mongrel's affected hind. The foot was cut off. The dog howled in pain and I grinned in joy. I looked at the dog's face if there would be any expression I could've read from his face. He looked back at me and limped quickly away with the blood trailing along. I hoped he would die.
I got down from the car and went to the extent of where it slid open. The dog's foot was there. I picked it up and threw it away into the disposal bin at the side of the gate.
I went into the car and drove in. The gate sensor read I was in and slid close.
That was how sociopathic I could be towards a dog. That was how much I hated any dogs. More reason I didn't buy the dog you wanted me to buy for you. I would kill it at the end.
To hell with a dog being a man's best friend. I prefer my best friend to remain a man. A very good tool for help in times of need. What could I possibly get in a dog?
Meat?!
Yuck!
I would die tasting it.
I got to my condo and anticipated the visitation of my human-angel. My hope on my human-angel's entrance was high. It was quite long we talked or chatted on phone or through any means except my wet dreams were she was featured as my sidekick.
The last time we talked she said she would come the following weekend which was this week. She didn't mention the particular day if it would be on Friday evening, on Saturday or on Sunday.
The day we video chatted on Whatsapp and agreed she should come to my condo, I called her back on her mobile number and told her not to call or chat me up until we physically saw ourselves. And I told her I would reciprocate the action. She agreed after making up different probabilities of social means which I didn't support since it was still under our calling or chatting each other up.
With my expectation and boring life since your mum left me, I placed a bet on my human-angel showing up on Sunday Evening. My odds on Friday evening was 05.00. Saturday Morning was 10.00. Saturday Afternoon was 15.00. Saturday evening was 12.00. Sunday Morning was 50.00. Sunday Afternoon was 25.00. Sunday Evening was 99.99.
I chose Sunday Evening because it had the highest odd and I hated being disappointed.
I thought about the simplicity of life and decided having two stakes.
I placed another bet on her showing up this Friday evening. This I did in other to not be caught unawares, found wanting or to find myself disappointing someone else. This reminded me of the adage that says one should do to people what he or she would like done unto him or her.
With the two bets, I was rest assured I won't be disappointed. Either way, I was at the winning side.
If she didn't come this evening, with every preparation of making a delicacy I spent 3 hours without rest and she didn't show up till Sunday evening, I will keep micro-waving the dish to keep it from going haywire.
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STAY TUNED for CHAPTER FOUR

That reminds me, I'm confused on the state of this anecdote? Is it a NARRATIVE or an AUTO-BIOGRAPHY?

I did not want to trespass before by having patience, but I couldn't cope and now, here I am, clicking on the Chapter FIVE Episode THREE link to keep reading.
Now, I need your advise DooseBae, should I keep to your updates on here or I move to your diary?!

EddieGrodo:
Na wa o...
Even OP is going against his policy by derailing the thread by himself.
Oya, being the Class Captain, BlueHaven, come and modify this post of yours so we or anybody can come and be derailing as we like o.
Even sef, there should be no other post except update.

Mr. Class Captain ke.
DERAIL modification ke?!
I'm not derailing ke.
We're still in the dark and waiting for LIGHT to suffice so we can post update ni.
All these we are doing is B.T.S. (behind-the-scene) of the KOKO.
This is keeping the thread alive till update day. Abi you want one QUOTER to come and do FLASH-BACK for us ni?!
Do your assigned duty and mark attendance jor.
*ThumbsUp*
;-)

Jage:
This your promised "Let there be LIGHT" day go hard for us to comprehend with o
Haba
Every ONE update ONCE in a week is too extreme o
Oga BLUEHAVEN review your policy o...or else...

Please Jage, you and every others should concede with me in sticking to updating on "let there be light" days.
Abeg o!!!

AnjaliSwift:
Nawa o!
You sha don't want to let sleeping dog to lie down.
Lemme run and go and call your daughter for her to see that you've upgraded "our" issue from facebook to "nairaland"of all places.

As e be say you guyz were not able to motivate me again on facebook nko?
I've to come on NL to get motivated.
No qualms...go get her. Then you tell her her duty is to come motivate me. Or I shift the story to another angle that won't favour her.

AnjaliSwift:
Ghen ghen...
See my Oga on the beat.
Boss, you called me and I'm here to obey your clarion's call.

Hahahaha...
Yeah!
If you don't obey, who would?!
Ensure you comment at every update I make.
Understood?!

Or get SACKED when you don't.

Jage:
This your promised "Let there be LIGHT" day go hard for us to comprehend with o
Haba
Every ONE update ONCE in a week is too extreme o
Oga BLUEHAVEN review your policy o...or else...

TOO EXTREME?!
Hmmm...
Or else what?!

Ah!
I forgot o!
Y'all AOYD - ASSOCIATION OF YORUBA DEMONS, Sheikshegetto, Badohemmy, and Jackossky, come and pay your dues too o.

TheBlessedMAN:
Bro, u crazy ahswear ..

U wan break my jaw with laughter that can only be produce by discovering a free browsing sh!t...
Sorry, cheat.....

No kill person o jare..
Ride on though, i gat ur back..

Hehehehe...
Na you I wan be like o.
Yeah! I know...it's intentional!
Hmmm...as you gat my back so eghn...I trust you not to stab me o!
;-)

THE DESIGNER
Chapter TWO
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Chapter ONE Summary:
A man who collaborated with his friend, who was a renowned doctor, to wipe of the memory of his fiancee who aborted the pregnancy she had for the man. Unknown to her, the abortion forfeited 10 out of 12 babies in her, and the remaining two were removed and incubated with the fiance's knowledge. It was also revealed that the two babies were of different human genders and one of the incubated babies went through critical issue that could only be solved by getting a human host for the baby to safely live in till it gets to the usual 9 months pregnancy ultimatum.
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Chapter TWO
The host-radar periscope pinged again.
With the ping, my reality drifted to my thought. How would I take control of this issue? Should I wait till Sunday morning to search for this Church or I should go now since today is Saturday and it's noon. Even after finding the Church I would enter and start searching for a suitable woman for the role of being my baby's host. Any woman. This should be easy to deal with.
Easy?!
I had forgotten so soon the SMS your mother's pregnancy aborter who happens to be my best friend had sent me. He advised me to get a woman of my dreams who would live with me till death do us path. Marriage!
This was another ghen ghen...that I could cope with.
The periscope pinged twice this time. They were reminder pings.
I peeped through the hole and it was revealed the name and location of the Catholic Church. As tiny and portable as the periscope was, it was awesome. I had always wished to be this technical and scientific. Making things that would awe people and make them feel the exact way I was feeling of not being able to manufacture this device. I remembered my high school years, how I had love to be in the science department. It was a situation where I imagined myself going into my private laboratory and within 5 minutes I'm out with my gigantic robot that would defend me and do whatever I wanted. That was how much of a cartoon freak I was. Dexter in the cartoon, "Dexter's Laboratory" was my role model.
My thought was dismissed with a new sound that chimed from the periscope. I strained to look in and what I saw left my mouth agape. There was a moving picture of an angel who had no wings, wasn't as bright as the sun, wasn't flying in the air, but was a complete woman who shouldn't walk with her legs for fear the earth may envy and swallow her whole for her being graceful.
Right there in the periscope, every basic details of the gracious woman was displayed and I took necessary notes of her exact location in the Church.
I got to her presence and snapped my 'romance prowess finger' and we got down to things.
This woman was quite the opposite of my baby's previous and expired host: the club girl. This woman wasn't extravagant, but had a mouth-watering personality and had ego, but wasn't egocentric.
I called my doctor and friend and gave him progress report after reciprocating chivalry greetings to ourselves. I told him of the existing chemistry between my human-angel and I. And he told me I had 53 days ultimatum to 'download' the baby into the host.
A month later, after knowing who would be my baby's host, it was obvious she was deep-down in love with me.
Wow!
How love could be so blind, unlike your mother who was never blind.
I decided rushing things at her. I had planned I would propose to her to marry me eventhough only ONE month had passed of our knowing each other if she didn't agree we make up family before marriage.
It was high time I visited my friend to process the hosting rite.
I called my human-angel through Whatsapp video call and we had the usual romantic discussion which I did carefully and lackadaisically, but the latter attitude wasn't obvious, of course. I wasn't interested in any woman. My babies were my goal. Keeping them alive was my objective no matter my personal cost.
My human-angel had, personally, done a total run-down check on me. This has made her had the thought of knowing everything about me which she brags about. She knew of my fertility gift which was what makes me a man. She was aware of my jovial status and knew when I was in the mood and not in it. My social life style was what she was aware of and none-the-more or less.
I told her we needed to talk. She understood perfectly the tone I used in passing that information which meant I was serious. And she urged me on. I told her we needed to go to a doctor and she asked why I wanted that. I told her life wasn't fair when it came to love. She told me to hit the bullseye. With that urge, I crossed my fingers at my back and told her my genotype was AS and I needed to know where she belong for the sake of our children. And without pushing further she agreed and asked for the day-of-appointment and all she needed to know. I told her the genes won't be the only check-up, but every other tests would convey the genes' check-up. She accepted without further questioning except if that was all and the appointment date. I told her we still needed to talk physically. She decided she would come over to my condo the following weekend. As a dismissal she threw a kiss which I humoured to catch with my hand and swallowed.
As I thought, desperately, of my life, my near bankruptcy, my unworthy club girl, my incubated baby, my no-host-yet baby, my soon-to-be best man and doctor, and my human-angel, I still felt empty. Empty like I was expectant of something. Though I was yet to take my human-angel and host to my buddy to check her out and process the hosting of my baby. A lot of things I had thought about, but there was something I wasn't remembering. Was it the 'Gucci brand owner?'
NO!
It couldn't be him. He is a thing of the past and was a no-problem to me.
Was it my having no canal knowledge with any woman since the amnaesia woman left me?
NO!
It couldn't be. Sex wasn't a problem. Though it was barely FOUR months since I approached that level. It wasn't a new thing. I patronised 5 years without sex when my level with your mother was still strong.
I've failed to let you in on the occurence between your mum and I.
The day she left me for 'Gucci Brand Owner' was our 8th year anniversary of being together which was the reason behind my accepting to follow her to the shopping mall on foot since she revealed she had a surprise for me after my telling her I was having a surprise for her. But I decided getting surprised first since I believed in the "Ladies First" agenda, and she agreed. And she, truly, surprised me. That was her 'major' plan all along. The abortion part of her plan was the only issue I was aware of.
With this thought, I wasn't feeling empty anymore.
Oh!
Your mother was the empty space in me.
I still wondered why she left me. Leaving me without dropping a message of any sort. Or was it because I didn't propose to her?! Or because I was in the social class and she wanted a high flier? But I am a high-flier.
Oh!
She prefered life with business-owner just as she had always advise me to make up my own business plans instead of working for someone who is like me or earning SALARY and relying on pension when we retire.
Rubbish!
She was a high flier too. She could've convinced me by going for it at the first instance she got the idea.
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STAY TUNED for CHAPTER  THREE

EddieGrodo:
Oya, MykelDayo, B4borlar, VakJay08, DotunIbrahim7, Plolly, Toseensbm19, AlphaCyborg, UzzyPhil, Honourable356, Adefajosekayo, IAmAmbrose, Quadri956(m), Anyakarl, WhoCarex, KanyeBaba1, Didilicious, EyiNimofeOluwa, AyodeleVictor, HazardMan, KayCee9242, PascalBenz, XoshinugaX, JeggyChi, PalmerBarry, Dejavuh0007, ToluBest, Hoyinmide, Malificent, LanryBlaq, and Uminem02,make una come mark attendance for this class o.

Wow!

Henceforth and forthwith, EddieGrodo, with the power vested in me as a principal of one Secondary School like that, I adorn you as the Captain of this CLASS.
*ThumbsUp*

EddieGrodo:

O boy, see hilarialaisation o!
You gat me rolling on the floor anyhow na small make my neck break, but God said, "No, my Son! You are not Fayose"
Buh I'm relaxed waiting to see how you would defeat TBM's humours.

Hahahahaha!
You dey try compare CRAY FISH with SARDINE when you compare me to TheBlessedMan...that difference is clear. Though there are times when I advised him to be LIKE ME (that was before I read his work). I'm not changing my mind in that regard sha o.
LoL!!!