The Plan Sucks

Stephen Canfield thought he could ruin my plan to finally get rid of Sylar once and for all, but he underestimated my willingness to shoot my daughter.

He held her in front of him as a human shield, and I pulled my trigger.

Damn! The safety was on.

Suddenly, the vortex-making villain created a large, sucky hole in the hardwood floor. My gun, my lovely gun, was snatched away from me. I wanted so badly to follow it, but I had to think about what it would have wanted.

“Save yourself, Noah,” I imagined it saying to me. “You can always get another gun.”

“But the waiting period could be anywhere from 24 hours to 10 days,” I explained.

“Just use the gun show loophole,” it didn’t call out to me as it faded away into some other dimension.

“I’ll miss you!” I cried into the vortex as I grabbed tightly onto a nearby pillar.

“Like, Dad, stop whining about your gun!” Claire Bear yelled back to me. She was hanging onto some railing with her feet only inches (or centimeters for our foreign friends) away from the vortex. “I’m, like, so totally going to disappear forever if you, like, don’t do something!”

I contemplated whether or not I could buy a daughter at a gun show too. I knew I would be able to, but doubted she would be indestructible. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do. If I let go of my pillar, I’d be sucked into that vortex too.

I couldn’t let go of my pillar, my lovely, smooth pillar. As I caressed it slowly, as I do to all life-saving structures, I was reminded of my wife. It was so cylindrical and white, just like Sandra.

“Oh, Pillar,” I whispered into its ears, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Then, Claire walked up to me and said, “Uh, Dad, like, stop. That’s totally weird. Gah! You’re such a dork.”

I was surprised to see that my Claire Bear survived the vortex, which had seemed to go away during my conversation with my pillar.

“I, like, totally had to let creepy brain-eater here save me,” she continued to complain.

“Yeah, Mr. Glasses!” Sylar cheered. “I think you like owe me a kid now, since I saved yours.”

How dare he save my daughter! I suddenly remembered just how badly I wanted this reformed sociopath removed from this reality. “We have to find Canfield!” I yelled.

“Gah! Dad, just talk to him or something. He’s, like, totally cool and all,” Claire responded.

Eventually, I tricked the little fool into giving me information on where he was heading, and that’s where I got the jump on him.

Luckily, there was a gun show on the way to the park. “Boo!” I jumped out and screamed.

“I’m not a murderer!” Stephen cried. “You people got me all wrong!”

“We can’t have you making black holes everywhere,” I said calmly, “even if it’s just an accident.”

“Oh, so it’s a racial thing?” he replied. “So what if I was creating white holes, huh? Bet you people with your Company would be all fine with that, right?”

“Probably,” I said. “I’m just middle management. I don’t set policy,” I explained. Then, I offered him a great deal: send Sylar away forever and don’t get shot in the head.

He seemed to take my offer.