Entry for Storycubes contest 10: The Nutty Michael Strutters

This is my entry for @goodguygreg's #storycubes contest nr. 10.

Every week, @goodguygreg rolls 9 story dice and hosts a contest for everybody to make a story, photograph, paint, sculpt or make anything creative based on (at least 3) of those dice.

Somehow, I've found myself writing the continuing weird chronicles of the wacky Michael Geronimo Strutters, based on these dice, and I can't seem to shake him off. In case you haven't heard about him: Michael G. Strutters' backstory is written into this episode - with links provided.

These are this weeks dice:

And I've used them in this order: 6-2-3-5-7-1-8-4 (1 is top left, 9 is bottom right).

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Professor A.J. Kinkman's diary, October 8th, 1988.

Throughout my extensive career as a professional psychiatrist, I have met some wonderful and weird, extraordinary and exemplary cases of lunatics, nuts, quacks, schizzo's and outright madmen. Today was no different as I was sent the young master Michael Strutters - on the urgent demand of one mister Gregory Stutters (whom I recall, was the bricklayer of my modest chicken coop, nought four years ago).

The lad, a mere 18 years young, had a fascinating but delusional story to tell me - he recanted of a pirate's treasure he found, which turned out to be silly beans in a hot sauce (who's eating that, these days, my my), then trolls, spellcasting leprechauns and a timewarp bringing him back to being 18 years old again.

Good heavens - this nutcase then went on to predict the future, as so called proof: telling tales of how all computers (fancy even having one in your home!) will be linked together to form a superstructure called The Internet and an allmighty device called Googlyeyes will be a Master Search Engine to seek through all of its data. A fictional Bit Coin will be worth hundreds of American Dollars and The Chicago Bulls - of all teams - will win the NBA six times. Being an avid sports fan, I'm still chuckling at that one, hmmhaha.

After telling his tale and staring into my disbelieving eyes, the wee lad first got mad (I've seen it happening countless times), then frustrated (same old, same old), and finally ultimately sad. Then, in his New York slang, he said to me verbatim:

"Doc, lemme tell ya somethin' - this ain' no effin' joke to me. I couldn't give a hoot about being right bloody here and right friggin' now. All I care is the future - my future, my families future, even your bleak, pitiful, disbelieving future. I care about the future of our planet and every human, plant or animal on it - whether they be slithering snakes, digging dungbeetles, tasty hops or majestic elephants. Helluvit, I care about all living things out there, be they lowsome trolls or highspirited leprechauns and there ain't no nobody going to stop me from defending me and them alltogether!"

And with that, the haughty young man disappeared from my office. Literally, in a stroke of lightning which futhermore set my office ablaze. I had to call the sheriff and the fire department.

Now I'm in bed, writing this down and doubting. Was the young master Michael Strutters a true herald of a new world? A missionary on a sacred quest? Or just a crazy kook?

I cannot sleep.
Dr. A.J. Kinkman, PhD MD MC VCDF NBAR etc.