Empty Measure (intro)

Somehow, the only thought in my head is how unrealistic the physics of the situation are.
I see a look of horror on the young girl's face as my car tumbles through the air, spinning comically around some non-existent axis. Somehow, I'm not feeling any relief at her safety.
I see the strange monster I'm currently in the process of flipping into. Somehow, I feel no concern about the impending impact.
I know I'm hurtling towards death, and I don't particularly give a fuck. The whole situation is just too absurd to care about.

Yep, that was the end of me, all right. There's something hot trickling down my forehead, my vision is going dark, and I can't feel my legs. Or much of anything below the shoulder area, really.
Meh, dying isn't that bad. Those grapes were probably sour anyway.

"Seems like you're in a fix, puchuu-"

Through the haze of my senses shutting down, I can vaguely perceive the girl I almost hit. Almost, because my Toyota decided it wanted to see what it was like to be a bird. She's... waving her arms, in some kind of X pattern.
I wonder what that means.
Is she okay?
"I'm sure I can do a favor for a self-sacrificing monster slayer like yourself, puchuu."
She's waving even more frantically now. What has her in a panic like that?
I reach one hand out, trying to gesture for her to come closer.
"Contract accepted, puchuu!"

What?

There's another girl running toward the first one, and I swear it's the same girl in different clothes.
My life is spinning in front of my eyes like some sort of half-transparent slot machine. There's the day I enlisted with the navy. There's the day I graduated high school. There's Admiral Donald handing me the Naval Reactors coin. There I am walking off my ship, a civilian again, turning to raise my middle finger to the ship in salute...
Damn, that was a good day.
My finger twitches, and the images slow and jerk to a stop. There's the first day I had a jam session with my saxophone teacher.
The world shudders.

The first thing I noticed is that the blood is gone. Then, that my seatbelt has suddenly stated to feel constricting.
My head isn't jammed up against the dented roof any more. I can see properly. I can feel my legs, and they feel great. The night air is cool against my shoulders, and my legs, and my stomach-
Wait, what? I was wearing my coat. And long pants.
I grab for the seatbelt buckle - dammitall, something doesn't feel right with my arms -
My eye catches the rearview mirror, its alignment shifted by the crash landing.

Who the hell is she?

She looks amazing with that getup. It must be cold, though.

Oh.

OH.

Oh what the fuck.

This is not real. This cannot possibly be real, because nothing this terrible can possibly be this awesome.
Yeah, it must be a dream. There's no way I would ever be... this. Especially not with the consolation prize of being THIS. I don't get to have straight hair, I don't get to have smooth skin, I don't get to have a nice light tan, and I sure as hell don't get to have dynamite legs like that. The only thing that's me in that reflection is those boring, plain eyes.
"-n you hear me now?"
I turn away from the illusion in the mirror (it must be an illusion, none of it makes any sense) to see the girl from earlier. Two of her, actually. One in a tight purple bodystocking, the other literally wearing nothing but strategically place vines, and both with the same angelic face. Framed by the same golden hair, which falls onto the same pair of breasts that she's altogether too young for.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop you," Tights says to me. "Really, I am."
"But you don't have to do this alone," Nudist adds. "We can help you."
I look at them, and look at the mirror, and look back to them again.

And as my fingers press down on my seatbelt's buckle, and as I slide out of the window with my other hand dragging the slowly warming brass of a familiar instrument behind me, and as I stand to my full height... as I do all of these things, I laugh.

That depressive misanthrope who was driving the car is dead. I'm not.
The past is gone.
I am going to seize life and never let it go.

My laughter subsides, and I smile at the little ladies. My most genuine smile in years.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," I tell them. "Just give me a moment to dream it up, and I can give you my name."