But Wait!

The novel was ending around me, as I continued to stare in the direction that Myr/ulnor had gone.
How was it that he had beaten me so easily?
How had I allowed myself to be so gullible?
Back in highschool, I had heard that if you said the word 'orange' slowly enough, it sounded just like 'gullible.' After months of trying to talk slowly enough to make this happen without success, I had grown to hate gullibility in all its forms, and had vowed never to use that word to describe myself again. Now, here I was, feeling the slow-orange word to be appropriate, and I hated it.
Plus, Krulnor had seemingly been done away with, and I had grown fond of the dim barbarian over the last 1 and 1/2 blognovels. He deserved a better fate than drinking half a potion and being thrown into the body of a decaying wizard.
But the novel had already ended anyway.
If only there were something I could do to solve this conundrum.
Something magical, perhaps.
I paused.

Wizards were magical.
I was now a wizard.
Fully-fledged.
Worthy of the blue hat with silver star.
Surely I could do something magical.
Something so magical it wouldn't matter that the novel had already ended!
Retrieving Myron's book of spells from the ingredients table, I skimmed through it, dismissing spell after spell after spell. Eventually, I threw it down in disgust.
If Myron knew a spell that could defeat him, he was obviously too smart to write it in his book.
I scanned the remaining area impatiently, taking in Tim, Balthazar, the ingredients table, the remaining potion...

The remaining potion!
Of course!

I ran to the cauldron, and stared down at the half-potion left within it.
The viscosity of the liquid demonstrated just how magical the potion was, as the area from whence Krulnor had scooped out his share remained empty, rather than the remaining liquid having flowed back in. Only the left-hand half of the cauldron remained full.

But what could I do with the left-hand side of a soul-transfer potion?

Of course!
The left hand side was the "soul" part of the "soul-transfer!"
Krulnor had only consumed the "transfer" part!
His "soul" had not been switched!
There was still hope!
Now all I needed was a soul!

Once again I took in my surroundings.
Balthazar didn't deserve this.
Tim? No, I couldn't risk Myron having such a dangerous body (I was already concerned at what havoc he was reeking within Krulnor's frame).
But, what would be safe enough to use then??

Ahah!
I reached down, and scooped up a nearby snail. Seconds later, I had diluted the remain potion to snail-strength, and dosed a leaf of lettuce with it.
Now, I placed the snail on the lettuce leaf, and watched impatiently as it began to consume the "soul" potion.

A week later, it had finished the leaf.

All of a sudden, there was a small explosion, like the snail-sized equivalent of

BANG!

FIZZ!

POP!

AFRO-CUBAN HIP-HOP/JAZZ FUSION!

POW!

I bent down, putting my ear close to the snail, and was delighted to hear Myron's angry voice coming from within.
"I'll get you for this, Alaric! You just wait and see!"

The potion had succeeded! Myron's soul was in the snail. Krulnor's soul remained in Krulnor's body, and would be free to quest again, or cameo in another blog as the authors saw fit. The midget monk was free to make a fortune from the warrior-girl's hair. Balthazar was free to turn my epic into song. Tim was free to betray another quester.
And I was free to enjoy being a wizard.
Maybe I would even take on my own apprentice.
And as for Myron?
I picked up the snail and put it in my pocket.
Every wizard needed a strange pet.
It would be a good talking point if I ever wanted to talk with a girl at a bar.

THE END (again)