Origins of the Second Mistake

There once was a man the people of the world called the "Grand Old Designer." They speculated that he was an immense architect in Transylvania, but nobody could locate this area on a map. Still others rumored he was a software designer, and the only reason he was grand and old was because he had long face hairs that well added years to his unknown age. Mr. G, as he was unofficially known, appeared rarely, kissing baby's foreheads and cutting ribbons. But other than that, Mr. G remained unseen, locked away in his hidden mansion, wherever that was located, designing whatever it was he designed. He really had no profound influence on the people of Earth. Occasionally, he popped up in conversations about wages and workers' rights and the eight-hour workday. In all honesty, nobody gave a hoot about Mr. G because nobody knew him personally. The closest one to him was his personal secretary, who announced whose lucky baby's forehead would get kissed, or whose grand opening ribbon would be cut, but even he didn't know Mr. G's birthday or social security number. But one day, his secretary, whose name was Marty Odys Sycklesyde el Second, hurried into town, his faded black suit unbuttoned at the collar. He ran straight for the town square, and an audience gathered around him. The media was there too, to broadcast his words into space and then back into the brains of television-watching people. And it was then that Marty Odys Sycklesyde el Second announced Mr. G's new decree.
"You are no longer allowed to hide behind a face. That which you feel must be easily detected. Hiding emotions from one another will no longer be as easy as hiding your riches." The townspeople rose up in a terrible anguish as soon as Marty Odys Sycklesyde el Second stopped talking. Angry faces melted away and burst into flames. The secretary, consumed with fear, sunk into a shell of his own skin and scurried away. However, there had been one person who remained unaffected by Mr. G's new decree. His name was James Clyde and he had died inside a long time ago. He was incapable of expressing any emotion, except for anger, but even that took a lot to be expressed. When James saw the state of emergency his planet had become, he sought a solution. He was tired of faces burning with rage, demon faces glowing green with envy, faces pouring with streams of tears. What he hated most was the face of Hussa Ling. Her eyes glowed green with the content of men's dreams. On her chest she had tattoos of men passed who had schemed to unlock her secrets. James was bothered by her presence most, as she continually promised him greatness. But all James wanted was for the people of Earth to control their emotions long enough for him to get his cable fixed and get a decent pizza delivered. James decided to get in touch with Marty Odys Sycklesyde el Second and demand a meeting with this so-called "Grand Old Designer." Mr. G accepted his request, and the following evening, James was sitting in the notorious home of various vicious rumors, which was in fact located in Pennsylvania.
"You're the first visitor in decades. Mr. G's door is always open to the people, but no one takes the time to visit him." Marty Odys Sycklesdye el Second went on to explain that Mr. G was a mute, whose means of communication were scribbled drawings on a notepad. James was a bit taken back, and this greatly surprised him. An onslaught of emotion began pouring into his brain. Mr. G's very presence had augmented his reception to emotion, tenfold. James got on his knees, and begged, pleaded, and cried for Mr. G to repeal his horrid decree. When Mr. G replied with an animated cartoon of a man shaking his finger back and forth, James erupted into a volcanic sludge of rage and anger, heat spreading across his ears and cheeks. When James finally used every emotion he could muster, Mr. G's decision still remained unmoved. James sat back in his chair, exhausted. Mr. G got up, walked to the window, and returned with a slice of pizza. James' taste buds had never danced so gracefully around the cheese, sauce, and bread, and his stomach had never felt happier. Mr. G motioned for Marty Odys Sycklesyde el Second to leave. As soon as he stepped out, Mr. G looked James right in the eye and spoke.
"You have difficulty expressing emotion, James. Why is it your concern what the people of Earth feel? They will never swallow their pride long enough to control and harness the power that is emotion, even if I did repeal my decree. You may stay with me, get free pizza, and no longer deal with the biggest mistake I ever made: free will."