SMMM
07-25-2006, 03:29 AM
Chapter 1: AGES - CREATOR OF THE SISENEG
Pop! Scamp began scampering. Pop! Pop! Pop!
"What the hell?", exclaimed Jack Russell Terrier, the neighborhood mailman and watch protection agent.
"It's the morning!" My brother was very excited, as it was Christmas! And everyone loves Christmas, except for me. I've always disliked Christmas. Why? Because I'm always sick or disabled on Christmas. Flu, Cold, twisted ankle, T-Virus...it's all the SAME!!! And on Christmas! I am the most unluckiest girl in Shiloh. I mean the small midwestern "hick" town, not the canine star of children's novels and various PBS-original programmings. Because that would be naaasty.
Hoping this year would ultimately be different, I was slapped in the face by fate. The hand was dry, cold, and smelled of Grandma "Holiday ho-down bean casaral". As diagnosed by Dr. Coltrane, I was stricken with "Jungle Fever". As Jack was ready to part away from my home, I asked him to stay, bribing with a chance of sexy delights. Although the chance of such happenings peaked his heart pump, which was quite noticable, he had his own game of shennanigans to host. So I bid you farewell, Mr. Terrier. Perhaps we shall meet in the next world, full of various organic Martian life in which we, the humans, shall ultimately wipe out in favor of our own lives, ala Ray Bradbury's "The Martian Chronicles". Goodbye, Mr. Terrier. I bid you farewell.
After greeting Jack out the door, I soon found myself locked out of my house...away from the roaring fire I was supposed to start 10 minutes ago, in an effort to keep the temperature up, and thus make life a bit mroe livable. I knocked once. A small tap must not have been heard on the other side. I knocked twice. Once again it falls on deaf ears. Involuntarily chattering once or twice, my teeth knew of the temperature, as if to warn me with their movements.
A strong surge of blood rushed through my head, as if all at once in a horizontal slingle file! The energy of such a force must've powered a lightbulb above my head, as I had suddenly cultimated an idea! Cell phone in pocket, I immediately pulled it out and threw it at the neighbor's pet raccoon, Squirrely. Hearing the yelp of a creature smaller than I immediately gave me the courage to climb up the side of my house, onto the roof, and slide down the chimney. "I AM GORGEOUS!" I proudly shouted to the high heavens as I began climbing the measly 1-story brick house I refer to as my parent's house.
Not even a full chapter. Maybe more like 1/8 of a chapter, but I believe I have a good start here to something I'll never lay a hand on ever again due to the crappiness.
NO RESPONSES!!!
AHAHAHAHAH!! I AM A MASTER!
Pop! Scamp began scampering. Pop! Pop! Pop!
"What the hell?", exclaimed Jack Russell Terrier, the neighborhood mailman and watch protection agent.
"It's the morning!" My brother was very excited, as it was Christmas! And everyone loves Christmas, except for me. I've always disliked Christmas. Why? Because I'm always sick or disabled on Christmas. Flu, Cold, twisted ankle, T-Virus...it's all the SAME!!! And on Christmas! I am the most unluckiest girl in Shiloh. I mean the small midwestern "hick" town, not the canine star of children's novels and various PBS-original programmings. Because that would be naaasty.
Hoping this year would ultimately be different, I was slapped in the face by fate. The hand was dry, cold, and smelled of Grandma "Holiday ho-down bean casaral". As diagnosed by Dr. Coltrane, I was stricken with "Jungle Fever". As Jack was ready to part away from my home, I asked him to stay, bribing with a chance of sexy delights. Although the chance of such happenings peaked his heart pump, which was quite noticable, he had his own game of shennanigans to host. So I bid you farewell, Mr. Terrier. Perhaps we shall meet in the next world, full of various organic Martian life in which we, the humans, shall ultimately wipe out in favor of our own lives, ala Ray Bradbury's "The Martian Chronicles". Goodbye, Mr. Terrier. I bid you farewell.
After greeting Jack out the door, I soon found myself locked out of my house...away from the roaring fire I was supposed to start 10 minutes ago, in an effort to keep the temperature up, and thus make life a bit mroe livable. I knocked once. A small tap must not have been heard on the other side. I knocked twice. Once again it falls on deaf ears. Involuntarily chattering once or twice, my teeth knew of the temperature, as if to warn me with their movements.
A strong surge of blood rushed through my head, as if all at once in a horizontal slingle file! The energy of such a force must've powered a lightbulb above my head, as I had suddenly cultimated an idea! Cell phone in pocket, I immediately pulled it out and threw it at the neighbor's pet raccoon, Squirrely. Hearing the yelp of a creature smaller than I immediately gave me the courage to climb up the side of my house, onto the roof, and slide down the chimney. "I AM GORGEOUS!" I proudly shouted to the high heavens as I began climbing the measly 1-story brick house I refer to as my parent's house.
Not even a full chapter. Maybe more like 1/8 of a chapter, but I believe I have a good start here to something I'll never lay a hand on ever again due to the crappiness.
NO RESPONSES!!!
AHAHAHAHAH!! I AM A MASTER!