As a fictional spirit-guide, I have a passing interest in off the wall kind of things like the existence of other dimension, but in my current duty assignment I really don't have any dealings with other dimension. Except, of course, the fictional spirit-guide realm. One of my fictional spirit-guide friends who does have dealings with other dimensions told me an interesting story and made a request the other day.
One of the dimensions that he tends is made up of beings that can only be described as Weebles. I'm sure you remember the children's toys from the 70s called Weebles. They were small and egg shaped so that if you pushed them over they would pop right back up. I think their tag line was Weebles wobble but don't fall down.
One of these Weeblesque type beings was a simple delivery woman for a florist. On what is their equivalent to Valentine's Day she was preparing to make her first delivery when she fell over and hit the front of her head. Naturally, because of her Weeblesque shape she bounced right back up, but she bounced up in such a way that she hit the back of her head on the corner of a table. It was a standard height table, but she is very short. The two consecutive hits to the head, maybe because of their locations, caused some sort of damage. The result of the damage was that any time she came in contact with a person, an item, or a subject of any type, even for an instance, she automatically assumed that she was an expert on the person, item, or subject.
Keep in mind that this damage occurred before her deliveries on Valentine's Day. She delivered flowers to an EMT, and in her mind she became an EMT. She delivered flowers to the high school history teacher, and she became a historian. She delivered flowers to a worker at a gun shop and became an expert on guns. The list goes on and on and on.
All sorts of specialists and doctors examined her. Naturally, she became a medical expert afterward, but none of the actual experts could come to a clear cut answer as to what was going on in her head. They finally just wrote it down as the hits having caused the nadification of her occipital and frontal lobes.
Sadly, the injury cost her the job at the flower shop. They just needed a deliver person and not someone who thought she was an expert at everything so they sent her wobbling on her way.
It wasn't a total loss for her though. She was able to quickly get a job with the SWAT team. Her job with SWAT was very simple. Any time there was some sort of standoff, instead of using tear gas they would strap her into a trebuchet and launch her into the location. Her incessant, arrogant, and condescending ramblings would cause the perps to surrender much more quickly than tear gas. Her reputation spread so that it got to the point that often times SWAT didn't have to fire her into the location. As soon as the call "roll out the trebuchet" would go out, just the mental image of that little egg-shaped terror sailing through the air to their location would cause the perps to surrender.
You would think all would be well for her now, but bad luck continued to follow her. She and the team went out into a deserted area one day to do some test firings. They were going to work on getting better accuracy and distance with the trebuchet. On the very first shot they fired her into an area where ley lines and a vortex converged. She disappeared. Apparently transported to some unknown dimension. SWAT really wants her back because she was cheaper and more effective than tear gas.
My fictional spirit-guide friend says that he's sending out the info to fictional spirit-guides in all the other dimensions in an attempt to find her for them. He said the only description that he can give is that she's short, egg-shaped, condescending, thinks she knows everything, and is so unlucky that she probably couldn't win a contest between dumbasses.
I told him that no one like that immediately came to mind but that I'd keep my eyes open and get the word out.
