The Great Sufferings of Paul

I sit at my table in the center of the platform they have forced me to mount. I watch as their pale faces as they move through the crowd. It’s disgusting, the way they worship me. Each strange creature insists that I pen my name in their mass-produced notebooks. The look on their faces when I so callously refuse to do so is almost worth the suffering of being in this wretched place. It stinks of the creatures’ sweat and other unidentifiable things. I know this because, even though I do not possess a nose, the stench is so strong I can taste it. It floats through the air in a sickening mixture until it reaches me. I nearly retch, but manage to hold it back. For the millionth time today, I am immensely grateful that I do not produce any odor.

I can hardly wait until the clock strikes three. I will then be free, if only for a short while. Any time away from this awful place is solace to me. It is the only comfort I-

“Paul!” The shout came from just beyond the door he had turned his back to, it was so loud that it caused him to stop writing.

He sat in a dark corner lit only by a single candle, hunched over a stack of parchment. A scowl etched permanently on his face, he took a few precious seconds to respond to the shrill voice. “What?”

The voice that responded belonged to the one and only Rebecca Sacks. “What are you doing in there? You’ve been in there for hours! We have to go!” She sounded impatient, and just the sound of it made his thick, black eyebrows draw together in frustration.

“I do not wish to participate any longer,” Paul growls back. His voice is hoarse from disuse, and it almost hurts to speak. He wonders if he could get away with playing sick. Maybe she would allow him to leave. Paul sighs wishfully, if only things were so easy.

Just then the door is flung open, sending artificial light streaming into the previously pitch-dark room. A woman’s figure is silhouetted by the light. It can only be one person: Rebecca Sacks. She marches toward where Paul sits and grabs his short, yellow arm. “What do you mean you ‘don’t want to participate’? Hmm?” She shakes him by his arm, “Answer me!”

At this point, Paul thought that Rebecca was truly frightening. To anyone but himself of course, because, luckily for him, he couldn’t feel fear. That, and only that, was what kept him from running for cover. He looked up at her with an expression of great, undisguised loathing, but she simply stared back intently. His scowl deepened, “Those people out there-”

“Those people are your fans!” Rebecca shook him some more, and if his arm hadn’t been in her vise-like grip he would’ve fallen over. “You have to go meet them!”

“I think not,” he replied stubbornly.

“That tears it,” Rebecca’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “As your agent I am telling you that this would be fantastic for your reputation, and if you don’t cooperate then I’ll just have to use force.”

Paul glared at her with his large, circular eyes, “No. I refuse to do this. I am retired for God’s sake!”

“You’re famous,” She insisted. When she noticed he wasn’t going to budge she just shrugged her narrow shoulders, and then she slung him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. It was easy for her, seeing as how Paul was only three feet tall and weighed very little.

She strode out of the room and into a bland, beige hall. Paul bounced on her shoulder with every step, his hate for human beings growing. If he could’ve run all those years ago, he would’ve, but his pride simply didn’t allow for that. He just had to brag to everyone about his new invention. He couldn’t stop himself from saying it would change the world. At first, the others hadn’t believed him, and that only encouraged his need to prove himself to them.

His thoughts were cut short when Rebecca passed through a door and into another room. This room was just as bland as any other in the hotel, but it was also much, much larger. It was the convention room. Paul dreaded it more than any other room, and it brought on a feeling of nausea. He could only hope that if he did throw up that it would be all over Rebecca’s new pink shoes.

In the time it took Paul to think all of this Rebecca had already covered a lot of distance. Soon they were standing beside the raised platform in the center of the room. Rebecca plucked Paul off of her and deposited him on the stage like a child. He glared at her sullenly, knowing he couldn’t possibly make a break for the door. She made shooing motions with her pale, manicured hands. He took a step away, but turned back once to get a good look at his nemesis. Rebecca Sacks was a tall, voluptuous woman with dark curls that fell loosely around her shoulders, and she was as fierce as they come. Paul got the feeling that if he ever decided to kill off the entire human race Rebecca would be the first to go.

Finally, he turned away and walked to the table at the center of the small stage. He then climbed up the chair, which was stacked with many thick encyclopedias so he wouldn’t have to suffer the embarrassment of sitting in a booster seat, and plopped atop the books there. He waited silently, staring at the banner that read WELCOME ALL PAULS!, as he was introduced.

His agent’s voice, magnified intensely by the microphone she held, rang through the large space. “Welcome, everyone, to the tenth annual Paul Convention! I’m so glad that so many of you could make it!” Sporadic applause sounded from various places around the convention center. Rebecca forced an overly-cheery tone into her voice, “Today we have a special celebrity joining us!” This time there was much more applause, and even a few cheers.

“Today,” Rebecca went on, ignoring the crowd, “we have the very first Paul to ever step foot in America. He’s a brilliant inventor, well-known philanthropist, and a great cook. Folks, I now present Paul!”

A spotlight was then focused on him, making his yellow skin appear sickly. He attempted a smile, but only got as far as lessening his scowl into a frown. The crowd, being the stupid humans they were, cheered wildly. Paul crossed his arms over his chest and steeled himself for the oncoming barrage of questions. He only hoped the questions would be intelligent, and that they wouldn’t ask the one question he hated most. The question about that which he was famous for. He wished that they could be interested in some of the good things he’d done for humanity. Like building schools in poor African villages, or feeding the homeless, but they never asked about that. Paul thought that, due to their short attention spans, they could only focus on one thing at a time and that’s why they never asked about those things.

“If you’d all form a single file line in front of the stage Paul would be more than happy to sign autographs, answer questions, and pose for pictures. Thank you.” Then Rebecca’s microphone was switched off.

A line had quickly formed before him. The first person in line quickly bounded up the steps to Paul’s table, eager to have his question answered no doubt. He had a receding hairline, glasses, and wore a sticker on his blue sweater that said Hi! I’m Paul!. He was nearly giddy, shifting from foot to foot, as he stood before Paul.

“Yes?” He asked slowly, careful to make sure this dimwitted human could understand him.

“Um, I, ah,” the other man stuttered. “I was just wondering...”

Here it comes, Paul thought, here comes the question.

He finally spit it out then, “Didn’t you invent the wheel?”

Paul’s shoulders drooped forward. Of course. The wheel. That was all he’d ever be known for. “Yes,”he answered regretfully.

The man grinned and pushed a notebook toward him, “Can I have your autograph?”

Paul obliged and began a day full of the same questions and requests. Random pictures were snapped, but he paid the photographers no mind. The only thing that kept him going was the hope that one day his people, on whatever distant planet they currently inhabited, would come for him. When they did Paul would tell them all about the injustices he was forced to endure here on Earth. They would be outraged and demand retribution. And so would begin the annihilation of the human race.

Haha, what an amusing story, Aspiring! This personification of Paul was entertaining, and I can't help but feel bad for the poor guy!

Now, I have a few nitpicks

I can hardly wait until the clock strikes three. I will then be free, if only for a short while. Any time away from this awful place is solace to me. It is the only comfort I-

This is the only bit in first person, and it seems a little strange. If it's his thoughts, then maybe indicate that better. Some popular ways for representing thoughts are putting them in quotes and putting a "Paul thought" (in this case) tag at the end. Italicizing thoughts is also used pretty often.

It can only be one person: Rebecca Sacks.

Only a few sentences before, you had a similar sentence regarding her voice. So, this sentence is redundant.

The only other major thing was that sometimes the tense was a bit off. Most of the story was written in past tense, but in several places, particularly around 6th and 7th paragraphs, the tense switches to present. With writing, consistency is key, so pick one and stick to it.

That's all I have! Again, I really enjoyed this. Good job and good luck in the contest! Keep writing!

-Lauren-

I liked this. So Paul is an alien...interesting. I love the image of his agent carrying him to the stage. This bothered me though.

Just then the door is flung open, sending artificial light streaming into the previously pitch-dark room.

If the room was pitch-dark, should Paul have an adverse reaction to the light? Or is his physiology completely different from a normal human's? This was really good and had me nearly laughing out loud. I couldn't though, since it's late here...Good job!

I was really fascinated by the story. It was really original without trying hard to be so. I was hooked from the first line.
Maybe you could add more paragraphs? I felt some paragraphs were too long so maybe you could separate them. Paul's personality was amusing and funny. It was really entertaining for Paul to always call the humans stupid.
And the Paul convention? Nice touch there. Some sort of weird convention to finish the already weird main character. The dialogue was good and not disjointed at all. It flowed effortlessly. I hope I could read more of your works as it is really one of a kind and a refreshing breath in an 'unoriginal' world. Keep on writing and have fun along the way! Cheers!

Tiger here to review for the contest!

Well, first off I have to say I like the idea of the story. Paul being an alien on the human world is an interesting incarnation of him. And the personality of your Paul I like as well, what with his sarcasm and his loathing of the human race. It's quite different from some of the others I've seen--either grumpy or airheaded Pauls, yours actually has a recent to be annoyed and cranky.

As Lauren mentioned, the beginning is a little odd. It starts off in first person, and then suddenly gets cut off and switches to third person. That can throw a reader off, as will the other tense changes in the last parts of the story. And the first paragraph seems to be about his feelings towards the end of the story, not the beginning, so is it a flashforward of sorts? Maybe you could write it in third-person and italicize it? But that aside, this story was a great idea and quite well written. Great job, and KEEP WRITING!

Tiger

It's meeee! ^^

This review will only be a brief one because, well, I've got a lot of these to get to. Also, I don't want to make it obvious how much I like or dislike this piece compared to others, so the more brief I am, the less likely that is to happen. Don't worry though, I will still try to make this critique helpful!

Hehe, so I enjoyed reading this. I actually really liked the opening to this. It just sounded so much like Paul. I found myself smiling as I read it, and I enjoyed the bitterness in Paul's voice at the beginning. It was good how you kept that personality then when you started writing in third person. This was funny, and I really adored the plot. It was original and really entertaining. Like the others have said, I think you've captured Paul's personality really well, and he was interesting to read about. I didn't get bored once either, and considering I have a short attention spam, that's great, so yay for that!

What I would have liked for you to have maybe done though is made the convention scene a bit longer. All that really happened was some guy asked him if he invented the wheel, and then it kind of ended. I guess I would have liked to have seen some other funny, quirky things happening. Maybe his agent could have organised a speech for Paul to give or something, and he did everything he possibly could to try and avoid giving it. When the convention got too much for him, you could have had him hide in the toilet for as long as possible or something, just to get away from the maniac humans outside. That kind of thing. Basically, I would have liked to have seen more of the convention.

All in all, I really did like this!

Keep writing,

xoxo Skins