Acuweather

"How are you feeling today?"

"We've got another storm on the way, I'd wrap up if I were you."

"Really?" exclaimed Murr looking around. “There's not a cloud in sight.”

"I feel it, Murr," Ansel slapped his knee. "This dang arthritis has never steered me wrong. I feel a big one on the way."

"Well if you're sure Ansel, I'm going get a move on. Thanks for the warning." Murr pulled out a stack of envelopes and a small package from his mail bag and handed them over.

"Thanks," Ansel began flipping through his letters.

"No problem. I hate to be nosey, but I noticed another one from the library. You have something overdue? You know, I'm stopping by there everyday. I could always return it for you."

"Yeah, yeah. It's okay, I'll get it back to them soon."

"They can rob you blind with those late fees, I'd be careful."

"Thanks Murr, get yourself out of the rain."

"There's not a cloud in the sky, I've got some time." Murr continued down the street far too slowly.

Ansel sighed and opened up the letter from the library.

"Beginner's Acupuncture," he mumbled to himself. "Overdue, five weeks... two-hundred bucks?!" He held the letter up and looked it over again. "That's wild."

He got out of his rocking chair with a groan. His knee was stiff. Holding his mail to his chest, he hobbled inside and flipped on the weather channel.

His least favorite face came on the screen: Roland, terrible weatherman.

"What do you have for us today, fraud?"

"For those of you staying at home," Roland started. "You're missing one of the most beautiful days of the year."

Ansel let out a mocking snort. Roland continued, unphased.

"With a high of seventy, and a low of sixty-five, today's a great day to get your vitamin D in the valley." Ansel held his knee in protest of this information. There's no way that was true.

"And when you're done getting that tan, come by the library where I'll be doing a signing for my new book: Weather and Whatever. It chronicles the life of your favorite weatherman, from his varsity football days to his years on your television screen, every morning seven AM sharp. See you there."

Ansel turned off the TV, revealing his hunched over visage in the reflection. His knee hurt. There was a storm coming and it was going to rain out Roland's book signing, he was sure of it.

He turned to his bookshelf and scanned for Beginner's Acupuncture, he paused at the framed photo of his football team. There was Roland at the front, always had to be at the center of the world.

Ansel's hand landed on the book and he pulled it off the shelf. He needed to use it before he got anymore late fees. He set the book and the package Murr brought by on the counter and began to leaf through the pages.

"Knee, knee, knee..." Ansel whispered to himself. "Knee." He'd found the section.

DO NOT USE NON-ACUPUNCTURE NEEDLES

The warning at the start of the chapter was bold and centered, not to be missed. But you must be licensed to buy the real kind of needles, Ansel thought as he ripped open his package. These were pretty standard sewing needles, as thin as he could find.

What's the big deal? He was getting desperate for some relief.

"Yang Ling Quan," he read aloud. "Located below and in front of the head of the shinbone." He felt around on his knee, looking at the diagram. "That's got to be the yingling."

"Yin Ling Quan," he continued. "On the outside of the lower leg, below, and in front of the head of the shinbone." He felt around as he read until he was satisfied.

He looked out his kitchen window, the sky was still clear. Maybe his knee was just getting worse. It all started the day Roland tackled him at practice, a prank gone wrong. Or maybe a rivalry gone too far, but it had been getting worse with age. The party trick of feeling incoming storms was getting old.

Ansel felt again for the Yang Ling Quan and held his finger to it as he pulled out a needle. This was just a test, he could always get the real needle when he got serious about this. He drove the needle in above his finger.

Nothing. He felt nothing. The pain stopped. Then pain shot through his entire leg, and up through his body. His vision went white and he heard a loud bang.

Laying on the floor, he came to. There was wind howling through his kitchen. He pulled himself up and realized the kitchen window had burst open, and a giant crack was letting water in.

Ansel went into his bathroom to grab a towel. Coming back into the kitchen, he peered out the broken window and saw a smoldering hole in his back yard. That must have been the bang, he thought. Lightning struck right outside.

He couldn't wait to see what Roland had to say about this. He turned on the weather channel. Roland was reporting live from the library, at his signing.

"We've never seen a storm like this in the one hundred fifty years of our town! I advise everyone to shelter in place under the storm calms down. There's a strong possibility of tornados touching down as well..." Roland continued as Ansel smirked to himself.

He looked down to his knee and saw the needle still there. It had really worked, no pain, no aches. He pried the needle out and studied it. Who needs acupuncture needles? These work fine.

The aching began to return, quickly, and worse than before. He felt around for the Yang Ying Quan and held his finger there, driving the needle back in. His TV lit up and the room glowed white. Ansel flew backwards into his coat stand.

Lighting had struck his TV, and left a smoldering pile of junk. Laying on his back, Ansel looked to his knee, then to the TV. What were the odds? Two strikes at the same moments he jabbed himself. There's no way that's coincidence.

He pulled himself up by his coat rack and put on a poncho. Whatever was happening, he was going to unleash it on Roland.