aerius wrote:I had sex with snuggles in a janitor's closet? Nice! Though in real life I think I'd choose something a little more comfortable such a music practice room. If only I coulda gotten laid in highschool...
I can't believe that it took you this long to pick that out of the post man. When I read it, I thought 'how apt'.
Yeah, no shit. JMac's gone, sure, but I expected Aerius to spot it right away.
And part 2 is in the works. All will be revealed in due time.
Well, not all. Hell, not even some. Mostly nothing will be revealed, but we both think it's pretty funny so far.
Damien Sorresso
"Ever see what them computa bitchez do to numbas? It ain't natural. Numbas ain't supposed to be code, they supposed to quantify shit."
- The Onion
Crown wrote:I can't believe that it took you this long to pick that out of the post man. When I read it, I thought 'how apt'.
Yeah, no shit. JMac's gone, sure, but I expected Aerius to spot it right away.
Well, I don't get up here in the Fanfic section every day...I should definitely read this forum more often. But I did pick it out pretty fast once I read it. Say...do I get any more sex scenes with snuggles?
aerius: I'll vote for you if you sleep with me. Lusankya: Deal!
Say, do you want it to be a threesome with your wife? Or a foursome with your wife and sister-in-law? I'm up for either.
Crown wrote:I can't believe that it took you this long to pick that out of the post man. When I read it, I thought 'how apt'.
Yeah, no shit. JMac's gone, sure, but I expected Aerius to spot it right away.
Well, I don't get up here in the Fanfic section every day...I should definitely read this forum more often. But I did pick it out pretty fast once I read it. Say...do I get any more sex scenes with snuggles?
It wasn't a sex scene, just the declaration that you two had sex in the janitor's closet. It's understood, however, that the two of you fuck like bunnies throughout the series. You'll probably pop up every now and then.
Damien Sorresso
"Ever see what them computa bitchez do to numbas? It ain't natural. Numbas ain't supposed to be code, they supposed to quantify shit."
- The Onion
Can I just say Damien, that you are tredding on very thin ice with me right now...
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
Crown wrote:Can I just say Damien, that you are tredding on very thin ice with me right now...
You expect anyone to include you in a fanfic when you haven't even seen Army of Darkness?
Hmmm to ban or not to ban, such a difficult decision ... I thought you would have learnt your lesson the last time little one.
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
Crown wrote:
Hmmm to ban or not to ban, such a difficult decision ... I thought you would have learnt your lesson the last time little one.
Sorry, must be the Puss'in'Boots avatar; it makes you seem so non-threatening.
Well I think we have spammed this thread enough If you ever decide to call my bluff I am screwed!............. . . ....
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
And
A Random Board Denizen Who Wants to be in the Fic
as
A Random Background Character
Written by
Matt Lineberger
Damien Sorresso
Executive Producers
Matt Lineberger
Damien Sorresso
*************************************************/
episode[2].setSeason (1);
episode[2].setTitle ("The Kernel Comes to SD");
episode[2].setPart (2, 2);
A hand like a steel clamp closed on Kernel's arm, neatly throwing him off target. Instead of smashing DH's nose, he grazed his cheek. Someone much bigger and stronger than him yanked him back and spun him around.
"Let's take a walk, junior." The man who'd grabbed him was seven feet tall and built like a refrigerator. He had a face like a brick with wild, crazy yellow eyes.
Joe watched the El Tee drag Kernel off to God only knew where. Hellenberg and his toadies stood smirking, Hellenberg's right hand jammed deep in his front pocket. Joe contemplated his chances in a four on one fight but decided he didn't like those odds, even against these clowns. He started to walk away.
"Hey Joe, how about you tell Marina I'm ready to make her straight," said DH. The toadies snickered at their master's wit.
"How about you tell her yourself, shitbrick?" The toadies blanched, but the smile didn't even leave DH's face. Joe walked away before he got tempted to test those bad odds.
Mark and Marina were still deep in debate when Joe returned. They'd missed the whole confrontation.
"Hey, where's the new guy?" said Mark when he noticed Joe.
"That shitstain Hellenberg knocked his lunch tray out of his hand and the El Tee grabbed him when he tried to punch him out."
"Well, isn't he quite the catch, Marina," said Debi.
"Hey, Hellenberg had it coming," said Joe.
"Right," said Debi. "I'm sure whatever he did was definitely worth being hauled off to the El Tee's dungeon."
"I'd go down to the El Tee's office if it meant punching Hellenberg," said Mark.
"No you wouldn't," said Debi. "Because you have a brain." She paused. "Of sorts."
"Don't tell me you're afraid of that gorilla," said Joe.
"Of course I'm not. But he's as sadistic as he is ugly, and he'd be happy to harass you for an entire year."
"Well, he's the new kid's problem, not ours," said Mark.
"Right. Because the El Tee is so fair minded he wouldn't jump all over our shit because we let the loose cannon new kid hang out with us."
"I'm telling you, DH deserved it. You would have decked him, if he had the stones to go after you," said Joe.
"Right," said Debi. "Everybody defend the lecher with a bad temper."
"Lecher?" said Marina.
"He was staring at my tits the ENTIRE TIME he was standing here!" she exclaimed.
"No he ... well, not the entire time," said Mark.
"I don't like him," said Debi. "And that's final."
"I stare at her tits all the time and she doesn't hate me," whispered Joe to Marina.
"Joe stares at your tits all the time and you don't hate him," said Marina to Debi.
"Marina, Goddammit!"
"As I don't really think of Joe as being someone with a penis, it doesn't bother me." Mark nearly inhaled a chunk of his buttsteak.
--
"Sorry, Stravo, I'm a little busy down here. Gotta haul some new kid down to the office," the El Tee's voice came over the walkie-talkie. Stravo sighed. This isn't fair. What good was being a principal if you couldn't shuffle disciplinary duties off to the dean when you needed to?
"What happened?" Stravo asked the walkie-talkie, just out of curiosity.
"Kid threw a punch at Hellenberg. I nabbed him before it landed, though."
Shit, Stravo thought. He was supposed to appear impartial in disciplinary matters, but Jesus would he love to see Hellenberg walking the halls with a nice, big shiner on his eye. His endless harassment of freshmen and transfer students got really tiresome after a while. Oh well. Stravo tried one last time to get out of dealing with Shirtless and Crackpot.
"You know, I could deal wi--"
"Nope, I got it."
Dammit, he's a sly one. "Okay," Stravo said, resigned to his fate. He clipped the walkie-talkie to his belt and looked at his two charges. They were still on opposite sides of the hall, looking remorseful, just as he'd ordered. "Well, you boys are in luck. The El Tee is otherwise indisposed."
Stravo looked at the two belligerent youths, trying to figure out what to do with them. They had a history, and he was getting sick of the two of them trying to constantly rewrite it. You know what? Fuck it.
"Both of you in my office, now," he commanded with an angry voice and a pointing finger. The two of them obediently headed into his office. He walked in after them and closed the door. They both sat silently in the chairs in front of his desk.
He sat down behind the desk and leaned forward with his hands clasped on its surface. "Okay boys, what's it been? A year that this shit has been going on?" They acknowledged his rhetorical question with silence. "We're putting an end to this." They both looked up, expecting one, the other or both to get expelled. What Stravo told them was about the exact opposite.
"You two are going to finish your little feud after school, two blocks down on Moseley Street, and I'm going to referee," Stravo said. The rule was that anything that went on beyond a two-block radius around the school was none of the school's concern, even if it involved students. Moseley Street was basically the SD High Mexican border, as it indicated the end of the two-block sphere of influence that the school had.
"After it's done, the winner is the winner, and the loser is the loser. You can spread whatever rumors you like after that about who won and who lost, but the only ones who will know for sure are the three of us. And if you two so much as even look at each other funny after today, it's immediate expulsion, no questions asked, for both of you. Three-fifteen, on Moseley. If one of you fails to show, you both get expelled. Are we clear?" Stravo laid it out for them.
The two looked at each other, stunned. They then turned back to Stravo and said, in unison, "Yes, sir."
--
The Kernel sat nervously ... no, actually nervous didn't quite cover it. He was either very terrified, or he'd overdosed on PCP. Whichever it was, he was certain that death lay at the end of his ordeal.
Well, I don't do PCP, the Kernel thought. That left being terrified. Of the El Tee. A small part of his soul died a meager death at that, sparing itself the imminent pain. At least with PCP, I'd die fast. There's no telling what this guy will come up with.
Across from him sat the El Tee. Back at his old school, the Dean of Discipline had had a very nice, furnished office. The Kernel had been in there on more than one occasion for lacking the capacity to take shit lying down. Now that he thought of it, the fanciness of the his old dean's office was probably one of the reasons he could never take the guy seriously.
The El Tee was apparently of the same school of thought as the Kernel. Instead of hauling him up to the office floor from the cafeteria, the El Tee had marched him down to the boiler room. Despite being a brand new school, SD High had a boiler room that looked like a converted bomb shelter. Somehow, there was an office down there, as indicated by the door with "EL TEE" carved in it by and punctuated with a survival knife. Once inside, the El Tee had pointed one, meaty finger to a small metal chair with red spots that he normally would've considered to be rust, but given his company, could just as easily have been blood spots. The Kernel's buttocks were now assigned to the chair indefinitely.
He didn't know much about this El Tee guy; he'd simply heard Joe mention the name just before he sent his fist on a collision course for Hellenberg's face. The Kernel got the feeling that it didn't take more than five minutes of exposure to the El Tee to know everything one needed to know. The Kernel had basically concluded that, if the movie Predator was based on actual events, Arnold Schwarzenegger's character was based off of a very tame, pussified version of the El Tee.
The Kernel shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't look straight ahead, seeing as the only light in the room, a desk lamp that looked about 30 years old, was pointed squarely at his face. He'd been sitting there for at least 5 minutes without the personification of pain sitting on the opposite end of the desk saying a word to him. The El Tee simply sat in his battered, old, leather chair, smoking a cigar. Not just any cigar, a big, smelly Cuban that probably would've torn Monica Lewinsky in half if she'd ever ventured to try it out.
Cuba's contraband pride and joy was the least of the Kernel's concerns, however. He couldn't be certain with the lack of light, but he was pretty sure that he saw the barrel of an M4A1 hanging on the wall, as well as the unmistakable silver sheen of a Desert Eagle.
The El Tee's face was a black shadow enshrouded by the smoke pumping out of the cigar like industrial air pollution. The Kernel looked up and saw two very serious eyes boring into his. Just then, the smoke in the immediate area of El Tee's face was disrupted as his low voice thundered out with enough bass to make the Kernel think the guy was somehow involved in THX promos.
"I've been thinking." Okay, no death yet, the Kernel thought. One of the El Tee's tree trunks, which looked suspiciously like arms, reached out and pounded lingering ash from the cigar into an old grease can with "FROM SHEP" crudely scraped into its surface where "Maxwell House" had probably once been. "You're new. You don't quite know the ropes around here. But you've figured out a thing or two."
The Kernel gulped. Was he supposed to speak? The increasingly long pause indicated that he should, and the fear of remaining silent quickly overwhelmed the fear of saying the wrong thing.
"Um ... uh ... what did I figure out ... sir?" The Kernel asked with piety and humility that would put a confessing Catholic to shame. The El Tee took another puff of his cigar before responding. The Kernel could hear the crackling of the burning paper and tobacco. Don't you dare cough.
"That Hellenberg's a poser and basically a fucking pussy." The El Tee's response had seemed so random and unexpected that the Kernel fought with all his might to put down the smirk threatening to creep across his face. Don't you dare laugh.
"Yes, sir," he said simply.
"Your punch didn't make contact, which means technically, you've done nothing to seriously damage your career at this institution. So I'm gonna let you off with a warning. This time." The El Tee rendered his verdict.
"Thank you, sir." The Kernel had to wonder just what a "warning" in this guy's book was.
"And your parents will be spared the knowledge of this little ... incident," the El Tee added. His idea of a warning was apparently to let you off scott-free once and then keep you inline by instilling a healthy fear of reprisal.
"You're dismissed."
--
"Oh come on, Hellenberg had it coming. He always has it coming," Marina whispered to Debi. There was no real seating arrangement in Mr. Galkine's "Spanish" class, so they just sat next to each other and discussed the new kid. Mr. Galkine had been yammering on about nothing in particular for the past 40 minutes, so there wasn't much else for them to do.
Yefim Mikhailovich Galkine wasn't Spanish, nor did he know Spanish. In fact, he probably couldn't even find Spain on a map without considerable help from Lady Luck. Mr. Galkine was a Russian in the proud tradition of stereotypes. The only thing thicker than his white mustache was his accent, and he bore a fair resemblance to Boris, the sneaky fucking Russian from the movie Snatch. The description fit, since he was famous for giving pop quizzes at the most inopportune times in his Russian class.
But that was his Russian class, which had been cut from the budget last term. Normally, when a foreign language teacher loses his class, he's out of a job, unless he knows another, non-English language, which Mr. Galkine did not. However, he could be a very intimidating individual, and given his likeness to a shifty arms-dealer from a film about a diamond heist, the board decided it would be best not to risk his retribution by terminating his contract. So they let him teach Spanish instead.
Incidentally, the students also had what was probably a very legitimate fear that Mr. Galkine kept all manner of assault rifles hidden under his floorboards. This had kept his house absent from students' TP'ing lists during Homecoming season.
While Marina and Debi had only been in the Mr. Galkine's Spanish class for a day, they could tell that all he really intended to do for the rest of the term was sit on the edge of his desk and talk about Russia for about 50 minutes every day of class.
"Yeah, Marina, casus belli, I know. But come on, the El Tee was right there. Who does he think he's fooling with that macho crap?" Debi whispered back. Marina seemed to like the Kernel, but he struck Debi as more of a loose cannon than anything else.
"Like you've never wanted to see Hellenberg get his," Marina said, refusing to let Debi condemn an innocent man.
"That's not the point, Marina! The El Tee was right there," Debi said in defense.
"He's new! He doesn't know anything about the El Tee," Marina countered.
"In my home village, ve actually saw Spaniard at vun time."
"What's to know? A crew-cut sitting on top of 4 redwoods attached to a refrigerator should tell him everything he needs to know."
"So? That just means that he's got a pair."
"I still don't like him," Debi said.
"Aw, that's too bad, 'cause I think he likes you," Marina said with a blatant smile. Debi immediately turned red.
"Vell, ve didn't know for sewr eef he vas Spaniard. Ve just knew he vasn't Russian because he vas frozen een ice cube!" Mr. Galkine finished with what he must have thought was a masterful delivery, punctuating the joke with a hearty laugh and a slap on the knee. The muffled coughs that could only be mistaken for laughs by the severely deluded prompted him to take another rather large swig from his coffee mug.
"Oh stop it, Marina. I barely even looked at him!"
"So? He was checking out my tits in the hallway, and I hadn't even said five words to him," Marina said. "And Joe told me that he was asking about you."
"Even if he is interested in me, I don't want anything to do with someone who can't control himself," Debi said.
"Oh give him a break. He's from out of town and probably doesn't have any friends here," Marina said.
"Bot een cup vas really rat poison, bee-cuz een Russia, vee have vury large rats, thees big around," Mr. Galkine said, indicating the size of the beasts with his hands.
"He's not going to go around making friends by beating people up."
"Hellenberg's not the kind anyone but his little cronies want to be friends with anyway. You're not giving him a fair chance."
"And ven Vanya drank from cup, vee all thought he vas good as dead man."
"If you like him so much, why don't you date him?"
"Because I'm a lesbian."
"Uh huh, sure. I think this whole 'lesbian' thing is just a rebellious phase. I think you're the one who likes him, but you can't say it, so you have to say that I like him," Debi said, busting a move with psychoanalysis.
"Oh come on. He's kinda cute, but he's no substitute for a good vibrator, that's for sure," Marina said.
"Marina!" Debi kept her mock revulsion to a minimum noise level. "And you kiss your mother with that mouth!"
"We're not that kind of family," Marina said slyly. Debi unsuccessfully tried to suppress her laughter, letting an obnoxious and very audible snort out instead. The whole class turned their direction to see Debi's hand embarrassingly masking the lower half of her face. Mr. Galkine just kept on talking, and the class eventually turned back to what they were doing, which certainly wasn't learning Spanish.
"Bot Vanya deed not die. He peessed blood for a veek, and then was fine aftear that."
"But come on. He is cute. I'm a lesbian, and even I can admit it," Marina said, casting her lure into the water.
"Yeah, I guess he's cute," Debi said, snatching up the bait.
"You think he's cute!" Marina said, taunting her with a forefinger. Debi was furious.
"You bitch! You dirty, sinful lesbian bitch!" She said loudly enough for the whole class to turn back in her direction. Marina just kept snickering. Mr. Galkine was completely unperturbed.
"And a veek aftear that, vee vear out drinking weeth Vanya. Ven vee voke up zee next morning ..." Galkine made a confused gesture with his hands. "Vanya vas steel sleeping and not breathing. Cooronor told us zat he died from haaving moore vodka een bloodstream than plasma!" Galkine was very amused with himself. He practically laid on his desk to polish off the "coffee" in his mug.
"Practically" became "actually" as the bell rang, and Mr. Galkine, who was probably very drunk, stayed stationary on his desk with one arm hanging down, curled fingers barely holding on to his mug. Before leaving the classroom, Marina charitably took the mug out of his hand before he dropped it and put it on his chair, where she knew it wouldn't be disturbed.
--
Joe and Mark spotted Kernel in the hall just before the last bell. Joe waved him over.
"You're alive," said Joe.
"Yeah. I got off with a warning because the El Tee thinks DH is a fucknut."
"Sweet," said Mark. "It's probably good you didn't actually hit Hellenberg."
"I guess," said Kernel. "That's twice today he's knocked shit out of my hands and someone stopped me before I could beat his ass."
"He's not worth the trouble," said Mark. "He's gotten his ass kicked a few times before. There's no glory in it."
"He's a vulture," said Joe. "He and his pals pick on freshmen and new kids. Sometimes upperclassmen who are out of favor with the ruling elite."
"Sunnyvale has a ruling elite?"
Joe and Mark nodded. "It's sorta taboo to say it," said Mark, "but this whole place is basically run by thirty or forty seniors. It's been like that since before they tore down Central High."
"I see," said Kernel.
"Ever since Mike Wong," said Joe.
"Who's Mike Wong?"
Joe and Mark froze in their tracks. So did half a dozen people nearby.
"Uh, did I say something wrong?"
"You've been at Sunnyvale West for a whole day and you've never heard of Mike Wong?" Mark seemed boggled.
"Uh, I guess not. Should I have?"
"Mike Wong scored four touchdowns in the state championship against the Sunnyvale Bitches!" said a nearby student.
"Mike Wong could talk any girl in school into having buttsex!" said another.
"Mike Wong ran the biggest high school pornography ring in the STATE," said Joe, plainly awed by the very thought.
"Mike Wong practically DID talk every girl in the school into having buttsex," said Mark, in a state somewhere beyond awe.
"He paved the way for all of us," said Aerius, who'd wandered into the scene for some reason. "He was a pioneer."
"Alright, I get it. He was a football star and he had lots of buttsex," said Kernel.
"And he sold porn. And he once got into a fight with three SBers at once and beat them bloody. He was the best fighter anyone ever saw--never beaten."
"You people get into an awful lot of fights," said Kernel.
"Bah," said Mark. "At Central, nobody ever got punished for it. You had a problem with another student, you and he squared off in the hallways and fought until someone went limp."
"Didn't that create liability issues?"
Joe and Mark shrugged. "It was a simpler time," said Mark.
"It was five years ago," said Kernel.
"Well, things were simpler then. Then they build the new place and Stravo hired the El Tee so he wouldn't get sued into debtors prison because his students were killing each other."
"First, I don't think they have debtor's prison anymore. Second, I think the El Tee presents certain liability risks on his own. And third, you two sure seem to know an awful lot of background material."
"Yeah, it's pretty convenient, isn't it?" said Joe.
They started down the hall towards the exit. "This is a pretty strange place," said Kernel.
"Sunnyvale is a strange town," said Mark. "I used to go to East, and it's just as odd."
"Why'd you transfer here?"
"They redrew the district lines two years ago. A whole bunch of East kids ended up getting sent to West."
"Don't East and West hate each other? How did that go for the transfers?"
"There were enough of them that they really didn't get a lot of shit," said Mark. "There's a few hardliners, but it's mostly peaceful."
"Mostly," said Joe.
Somebody to Kernel's right whistled at him. "Hey Joe! Who's the cutey boy?" Kernel froze--it had not been a female voice.
"He's straight, Dale," said Joe.
A tallish, rail thin, copper-haired live wire skipped across the hall, ignoring the crowd. He wore camo pants and a bright pink tank top. "I still want to meet him," he said.
"Kernel, this is Dale. Dale, Kernel."
"Pleased to meet you," said Kernel, offering his hand.
"You too!" Dale grabbed Kernel's hand and yanked him forward to wrap him up in a big hug.
Kernel had just started struggling when Sorresso and Red walked up behind Dale and tapped his shoulder. Red was holding a fifty dollar bill. Dale let Kernel go.
"Sorry, cutie, I've got business."
"That's ... quite alright," said Kernel.
"Let's go," said Mark. "No point hanging around here any longer than we have to."
"Who were they and why was one of them holding money?"
"Dale's the biggest pot dealer in Sunnyvale. Those two are his best customers," said Joe.
"That makes sense. Sorta."
They finally pushed through the crowd to the front doors. Debi and Marina were waiting for them. Debi made a face when she saw Kernel.
"Kernel! You're alive!" exclaimed Marina.
"This El Tee must have a pretty bad reputation," said Kernel.
Marina snickered. "I was going to start a pool."
"Well, next time I get busted trying to knock Hellenberg's teeth out, put me down for drawn and quartered."
"You might get your chance soon," said Mark. "Look."
DH and the Stooges were standing on the front lawn, surrounding another student--a freshman, by the looks of him. They were playing keep-away with his bookbag.
"Motherfucker," said Kernel. He dropped his bag and broke into a run, towards DH.
Mark and Joe looked at each other. "Shit," said Mark, and they followed him.
Kernel hit DH in the small of his back at a full sprint. DH yelped and dropped to the ground. Kernel tripped over him and went sprawling into Larry. Joe and Mark tackled Moe and Shemp before they could jump on him. Kernel jumped back to his feet and gave Larry a kick to the ribs to make sure he stayed down.
DH was just getting up. The freshman had grabbed his bag and gotten the hell out of the way.
"I owe you something, you little shit," said Kernel.
"I guess you want to go see the El Tee again," said DH.
"Guess so," said Kernel. He feinted to the left and opened up with a right hook to the side of DH's face. DH reeled back, tried to set his feet, and earned a shot to the solar plexus for his trouble. He folded up and dropped to the ground. A hand fell on Kernel's shoulder.
"That's enough, son," said Principal Stravo. He'd forced his way through the cheering throng to "break up" the fight.
Now I'm fucked, thought Kernel. Then he saw the El Tee approaching. Correction: now I'm REALLY fucked.
"It's lucky for you," said Stravo, "that no teachers saw this fight and David isn't going to tell me what happened."
"Huh?" said Kernel.
"What?!" exclaimed David. "I'll tell you everything! He--"
"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut up right now," said Stravo.
"You can't do this to me! I'm a Sunnyvale Damp and he's just a newbie!"
"I'm the principal of this Goddamn school and I can do anything I want," said Stravo.
"And it's DANK, you imbecile," said Mark.
"Go home," said Stravo. "The lot of you." He pointed to Kernel. "You've used up two second chances today. Most people around here don't even get one. You understand what I'm saying to you?"
"Yes sir," said Kernel.
"Good. Now get the hell off school property. El Tee, clear out this crowd!" With those words, the crowd started dispersing, before the El Tee could even start bellowing. Not that it stopped him.
Marina and Debi rejoined the boys as soon as they'd cleared the mob. They strolled together towards the parking lot.
"Aren't they cute, Debi? They're our three little maniacs."
Debi snorted. "You're all lucky you're not chained to the basement wall right now." Then her face cracked open into a huge smile. "That was awfully fun to watch, though."
"Not too bad for a new guy, huh?" said Kernel.
"No," said Debi. "And it was sweet of you to rescue that poor freshman. Now if you can learn to talk to my face instead of my chest, this might be the start of a wonderful friendship."
Kernel turned dark red and Marina started laughing so hard she nearly fell down. Joe and Mark skipped the "nearly".
"Sorry about that," muttered Kernel.
"Say that five hundred more times and I might forgive you," said Debi. She swatted him on the shoulder and walked away to her car. "I'll see you clowns tomorrow."
"Later, Debi," said the gang.
"You need a ride?" asked Joe to Kernel.
"Nah, I live right up the block. I can walk."
"Cool," said Joe. "See you tomorrow."
"Right, guys." He turned towards the street, walking away from the others. He stopped to wave once he'd gotten to the sidewalk, then continued up the street.
"Good guy," said Mark.
"I like him," said Marina.
"Yeah, he's cool," said Joe with just a shade less enthusiasm. Debi seems to have gotten over her dislike, he thought.
Nah.
Last edited by Durandal on 2004-03-23 02:26am, edited 1 time in total.
Damien Sorresso
"Ever see what them computa bitchez do to numbas? It ain't natural. Numbas ain't supposed to be code, they supposed to quantify shit."
- The Onion
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
The delay is entirely my fault. Durandal was finished by Friday night.
Any city gets what it admires, will pay for, and, ultimately, deserves…We want and deserve tin-can architecture in a tinhorn culture. And we will probably be judged not by the monuments we build but by those we have destroyed.--Ada Louise Huxtable, "Farewell to Penn Station", New York Times editorial, 30 October 1963 X-Ray Blues
RedImperator wrote:The delay is entirely my fault. Durandal was finished by Friday night.
You had a rough weekend and still managed to turn out some top-notch stuff. The Mike Wong scene was brilliant.
How do you guys share the workload by the way? Is there a rought story plan, and you both fill in details, or do you back and forth individually?
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
Crown wrote:How do you guys share the workload by the way? Is there a rought story plan, and you both fill in details, or do you back and forth individually?
We decide the overall plot for the episode, then we divide the episode up into scenes. We each pick the scenes we want to write, and then we write them. Then we critique each other's works, do some editing and stuff, then we mash it all together.
Damien Sorresso
"Ever see what them computa bitchez do to numbas? It ain't natural. Numbas ain't supposed to be code, they supposed to quantify shit."
- The Onion
