Academy for People Who Were Accidentally Magical

Arthur Pym desires nothing more than a quiet afternoon cataloging sewer culverts, but a violently suppressed sneeze inside the reference library creates an immediate ontological crisis. Instead of passing harmlessly through his spleen, the stifled blast creases the fabric of existence straight through the third horn button of his mustard cardigan, pocketing an entire Tuesday and trapping thirty-two hovering television clickers alongside a petrified scallion bagel. Hauled before an eccentric sanctuary dedicated to those burdened with catastrophic lack of coordination, he discovers that exercising conscious ambition only causes universal laws to fracture.Surrounded by peers who defy gravity when distracted or burst into flame over warranty disclaimers, Arthur must master the delicate art of vegetative apathy to survive. Reality here is preserved not through mystical mastery, but by boring the cosmos into submission using nineteenth-century brickwork specifications and unread drainage reports. When haughty purists arrive armed with rigid geometry, slide rules, and Latin verbs to purge the realm of uncertified slip-ups, it falls upon one remarkably dull clerk to prove that sheer provincial clumsiness can unravel the most calculated cosmic designs.A chain-smoking messenger pigeon serving carbonless triplicate subpoenas between railway bridges.A pocket-sized temporal chasm storing decades of audio-video controllers floating in cream cheese.Subduing an unhinged spectral tax collector by aiming an archaic infrared gadget at his midsection.Calibrating runaway teleportation spasms using an oral dosage of boiled turnpike meeting minutes.High-ranking mages in ermine robes defeated by loose knitting yarn and a bruised conference pear.A graduation ceremony where credentials are hurled directly into an ungreased brewery turbine.Secure your copy today before an ill-timed cough folds your entire weekend into an unwashed sweater!