Another New Year has arrived, and billions of folks across the globe have their sight’s set on an un-accomplishable goal to better their existence in some way or another. Whether it is losing weight, gaining bulk, quitting drinking, getting rich, traveling more, spending less… The people need a change, and desperately so. However, about ninety-nine percent of these human beings will not accomplish their goals, because they do not have what our brains have deemed “the motivation,” or rather, the willingness to do something.

What these failures do not know, in fact, is that it is not their fault in any way. The only ones who do succeed at bettering themselves do so by having Moe T. Vacíon. The ones that fail year after year, never shedding a pound, never earning a dime more, never accomplishing what they’d like to creatively… They have a lack of Moe T. Vacíon.

Who is Moe T. Vacíon? He is a sickly demigod who lives on a small island in the sky inside of a tacky pink hotel with bright neon lights. Otherwise known as Maurice, Moe spends most of his year in one of two places. He is either at his very old desktop computer from the early 1990s, connected to dial up internet, trying his very best to help everyone accomplish their goals. Or, he is laying on his white wicker framed bed, pink sheets stained, watching daytime soap operas.

The garish hotel on this floating island is called “The Poshy Palace,” written in green cursive neon against the pink bricks. Its staff is composed completely of green Goblins, robed in pink velvet and standing under three feet tall. They grumble and chatter nonsense throughout the day while freshening up the rooms, cleaning the pool, serving the continental breakfast, and waiting patiently in the lobby. The concierge is a slightly taller Goblin named Froniork, robed in deep navy blue velvet with a set of keys pinned to each side of his collar. Froniork would whip the other Goblins if they got too out of line, but mostly they would tend to their work without his interference.

…

Froniork had worked most of his life to take charge of the Palace, only to watch it fall into obscurity as the world had changed from the magical place it once was into the disgraceful place it was today, where all magical races had either died out or gone into hiding, and the human beings toiled daily for coppers and lived their life for trinkets. Humans could not reach the floating island, and even if they could they would not be able to comprehend it, or enjoy its splendor.

That is why Froniork had contacted his Goblin Lord, Vrierziehai, after months of chanting and burning offerings to Her. When She answered, he begged of Her to find a way to help the Humans better themselves, so that they might one day be magical again, and visit his hotel. She nodded, deep in her cavernous realm, and sought out all demigods of Humankind, for someone that shared her Concierge’s hopes for the creatures. And then he appeared, Maurice Tantalus Vacíon. He was a weakened Human demigod that had taken a devil’s horn to the heart and never fully recovered.

While he lay in waiting and tried to heal, he watched the world go from a place of wonder and magic and turn into a consummation based society where a select few rejoiced as the masses toiled. They were sick and hopeless. So when the She-Goblin Queen had sought him out, he decided he would help Humanity the only way he knew how, to help them accomplish their goals and dreams that they would put forth every new year.

Maurice had been driven to the flying island via a hovering white stretch limo, a tuxedo clad Goblin at the wheel. A red carpet was literally laid out for him, and he was met by the entire staff of the Posh Palace standing on either side of the entrance, clapping and cheering in their Goblin tongue as he walked in. Banners reading “Moe T. Vacíon” hung on the windows, and Froniork stood tall and proud with a velvet robe hung over his right arm. He draped it over Maurice’s shoulders and handed him the key to the presidential suite.

Goblin bellhops broke out in deadly squabbles deciding who’d get to show Moe to his room, and who’d get to carry his luggage. A large whip crack tore most of the skin off a young Goblin’s back through his velvet robe. Froniork bowed in apology to Maurice, who waved it off as if it was nothing. Froniork himself guided the demigod to his room, and unlocked the golden doorknob. He cracked the door and showed Maurice his gaudy, flashy pink room. The furniture was fresh white wicker, the bedframe, dressers, vanity, even the desk. Fake plastic plants speckled the hotel room, only the smallest layer of dust had graced their leaves.

“Well, Mr. Vacíon,” the Concierge began.

“Call me Moe, please.”

“Yes sir. Well, if our quest to help humanity transform back into an accepting and magical society is to succeed, they will need all of the Moe T. Vacíon they can get. That is why I have personally seen to it that our hotel has been equipped with the most up to date and cutting edge communications technology. A desktop computer with an included modem and dedicated telephone line. You will have access to the entire Earth from this very room,” Froniork said, his green face beaming with joy.

Moe’s face was pure shock. “You are telling me, from this box, I can communicate with… The entire population of the planet?”

“Anyone who has access to the Worldwide Internet, the Earth’s most advanced communication platform, will have direct access to you, Lord Moe. There will never be a need to upgrade, as it has been foreseen by Lord Vrierziehai that the Internet will be the number one form of communication for all time. So, Lord Moe, please, rest yourself and prepare to spread Moe T. Vacíon to the entirety of Humanity. Together, with the help of our deluxe hotel and your spiritual insights, we will make the world magical again,” Froniork said, bowing deeply, and leaving the room.

With that, Moe took a seat at the desktop, and clicked the Internet icon. He heard an array of digital song, and was entranced by its sound. He stuck out his tongue and clicked at the rudimentary letters on the keyboard, typing “Human need help?”

Moe found an article by a man named Roger C that was praying to lose a lot of weight in the new year. Moe placed his fingers delicately on an amethyst that was plugged into the computer, and channeled warm thoughts into the crystal. Far away, on a park bench, an obese man named Roger felt a warm feeling in his heart and heard “Motivation” go through his head. A smile came over his face.

And that was that. Moe spent the next 30 years finding people to help with his Moe T. Vacíon touch. But after about 12 years in, the dial up internet began to be devastatingly slow. The computer itself lagged to the point that Moe would punch his own face in frustration. Moe decided to bring this to the attention of Froniork, who scoffed in his face. “Hasn’t 12 years of being pampered with free room and board been enough for you, Moe. This is the most sophisticated system available, your questioning is a mockery to me and my god,” The Goblin seethed, almost violently.

So Moe never brought it up again, and each year the internet and computer got slower and slower until the point it took nearly a full day just to give Moe T. Vacíon to three humans. With how large the population was growing, the change happening in Humanity was actually less than it was before he started. And this fact did not go unnoticed. The Goblins began sneering at Moe when he walked through the hotel. His breakfasts grew more and more meager, the pool grew dirtier, and he felt scared to even leave his room.

One warm evening, while Moe laid on his rock hard bed watching a hospital soap opera, someone pounded loudly on his door. A letter flew underneath and glided directly to the foot of his bed. He moaned as he slowly reached to pick it up. It was an empty envelope that was stamped with a crudely written “EVICTION NOTICE. NOW.” As he squinted to get a better idea of what it said, the door shattered into tiny splinters as a legion of Goblins with nets and spears ran in, chanting in their awful language. They gently sliced him with their spears and prodded his back as they sacked him into the net.

They roared with giddy pleasure as they carried him above their heads, marching him straight out of the hotel. Outside was a dented and dirty yellow cab, driven by the fattest Goblin he’d ever seen. It looked at him with hatred, and then turned his head back to face the steering wheel. The horde dumped him in front of the cab, at the feet of Forniork. “You have disgraced yourself, Moe. The gods have decided to take away your status as a demigod. You are mortal now. You’ve had thirty years, and yet no progress has been made. We are ashamed of you,” Froniork said bluntly.

The stoic concierge grabbed Moe by the chest and yanked him to his feet, still inside of the net. He slapped his face, and then tossed him into the cab. Froniork slapped the trunk of the cab, and the driver took off towards the edge of the floating island.

“Wait, please, with faster internet I could- I could change the world, honestly, the Moe T. Vacíon I could spread, it- it- it would be life changing! Please! PLEASE!” Moe screamed.

But it was too late. The fat Goblin put the pedal to the metal and they went over the cliff. “This car can’t fly, kid,” The fat Goblin spoke with a deep and rich voice.

They went straight down at such an intense speed that they both passed out before the car hit the top of a sharp mountain.