Date: 1/29/99 4:20:52 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Douglass Weeks
To: SilvVenom@aol.com, sparrowskit@hotmail.com
*happily humming in front of his computer, when suddenly the world fractures and begins to be sucked into a whirling vortex* AHH! Mailer-Daemon! Returned e-mail! Time itself is begining to unravel!
*earlier*
*As the Akio-car is driving off, the funny looking guy leaps out of it. Unfortunately, since it was moving VERY fast, he finds himself still moving VERY fast. After spending several minutes haphazardly rolling across the ground (and through some of the special extra thorny rose beds) he comes to a stop in one of the dorm room's remaining walls, sending cracks running through the plaster*
*muffled voice from other side of wall* Sorry about the wall, but I forgot my computer.
*stands up, leans on wall, and is dumped into the room, as it too collapses*
Now I'm really sorry about the wall. *picks thorns out from his teeth and rose petals out of his ears. looks in the direction the Akio-car went* I really wish I had remembered my computer before. Now I'm going to have to carry it all the way back *rubs bridge of nose with finger, as if adjusting glasses, a very odd looking gesture, because he is not, has not, and probably never will, actually wear glasses*
*picks up computer, and as he straightens, there is a loud KRACK! he blushes* There goes my back again. I had a lap top, once. I also used to live not under the arena, but in the tendo hall. Then the tendo club showed up and I lost my room, my computer and a good deal of pride. Under the arena isn't so bad. I suppose I wouldn't have to wear pots on my head if my room had a roof, but hey, nothing's perfect. I hope you don't mind if I take a seat. *pulls out a feather quill as big as he is and draws a rather sloppy chair. He puts the quill away, sits down, then stands up, looks behind him, and blushes* Crud. I forgot to let the ink dry first *the chair rocks unsteadily as he sits again* I would be honored in the most honorable sense of the word *he seems to wait for something to happen, and when nothing does, he goes on* to have you post my e-mail on your page. Also, if you want, you can refer to me as Douglass, Doug, Duggles, or that weird guy off in that general direction, but please, never Dougie. Too, if you feel the need to edit my e-mail for space, content, or pants, feel free to do so. I'm also really appreciative *again he waits for something, but nothing happens* that you didn't kill me. I think that I would have a hard time explaining that one to my pants.
*places printer on head* Xerography. *waits for something. nothing* Drat.
Words like that usually bring Miki running. I was hoping that I could enlist him to carry the computer. *whips out quill and draws...something on the wall which he gazes at longingly* of course I could pay him with that.
And what is that? *ask two certain personalities who have until this point remained silent*
It's Anthy! Can't you tell? Right there is her...err, well, see, right there is her...okay, so maybe it does look a little like a cucumber in a bowl of ketchup. Maybe it's best that I do this myself. The student council might not like me enlisting their members for mundane tasks like that, and decide to revoke my pants or something.
*THUNK! Looks up, sees printer on head, takes printer off of head, sees sword sticking out of printer* I'm really getting tired of this. *doesn't noticed ink leaking out of the impaled printer and onto his hands* I don't know whether the reason that swords keep landing on my head is because I keep putting things up there for a sword to land in, or I'm just lucky enough to always have something on my head when a sword lands. Pretty miraculous either way, but I don't think I'm going to risk going around bare-headed, just in case its the latter.
*puts monitor on head*
A-ha! An idea! *whips out quill, draws a light bulb above his head. However, physics and gravity being what they are, the ink hangs in mid air for a second before splashing down all over him.* I'll just draw myself a car. *draws what a car would look like, if you tried to draw it with your eyes closed, in a windowless room, with the lights off, in the middle of a moonless night, except he did it with his eyes open in broad daylight.*
*throws computer in the back seat* well, back I go to my room under the arena. I'll catch you later, and hopefully under better circumstances. *starts car, it backfires a cloud of exhaust/ink,*
*big sweat drop* eep? *he says, as two noted authoresses, totally black except for their rather menacing eyes, stare at him. Before he can so much as eep! again, both he and the car find themselves victims of simultaneous mallet/spatula strikes. The car disintegrates into a pool of ink that coats the floor at least an inch deep, while he goes flying through the air* Thanks for your time! Sorry for the mess! *he shouts, as he fades into the distance. Just before he can clear the horizon, a glimmering object plunges out of the sky and impales the monitor on his head.
P.S: *A rather winded looking Wakaba stumbles through one of the ex-walls, not noticing the small lake of black ink filling the room* Where *pant pant* did they go?
