A/N: Sorry for the poor title... and yeah, I know I should be working on It's Tough Bein' a Fish... but the next chapter is annoying me. So I decided to stop focusing on it and returned to this. Yeah, I've been working on this on and off pretty much since I've seen HHaW. Y'know, if you redirect your thoughts on something else you can get rid of writer's block? It really works, yes it does, but it's not completely guaranteed. This story's not that great, it's just another focus that I finished and kinda wanted to share.

This takes place before the movie's events. Also, this isn't nearly as 'witty' as It's Tough Bein' a Fish. Just thought I'd say so.

Disclaimer: I do not own Horton Hears a Who.

Opposite Think

by Zeakari

Monday

"Dada!" Heady exclaimed, holding her arms up impatiently. Ned McDodd grinned and picked her up, giving the cute little girl a hug. Swiftly, she bit his shoulder with her proud little tooth. "Toof…" she murmured around a mouthful of her father's fur while he resisted the urge to scream.

"It sure is," he praised in a strained voice, trying to pry off the child. He sighed in relief when he dislodged the 'toof' from his injured flesh. He placed her back on the chair and she gave her parents a big smile.

Twelve seconds.

Little Lanette came by, proudly holding up a sheet of paper with a crayon drawing of him.

"Aw, sweetie, this is amazing!" he exclaimed, causing the girl to grin wide. "I swear, you amaze me more and more every day. This is going right on the fridge." The girl laughed in glee as her father whipped around in his seat and placed her drawing on their refrigerator with a magnet, adding to a growing collection of many other drawings she had made.

Twelve seconds.

"Peg won't stop following me!" Lillian complained, giving her little sister a shove for good measure.

"Lillian, don't push your sister. Peg, why don't you hang out with Leanne?" their father said sternly to the former and swiftly to the latter. The older of the two girls pouted but looked satisfied when the younger nodded enthusiastically.

Twelve seconds.

Yet again, the turned-away chair came before him. As usual, Ned had to reach out and turn the chair himself in order to see his only son, Jojo. The boy stared up at him, obviously bracing himself for yet another onslaught of one-sided conversation courtesy of his father. Yet again, he waited for the twelve seconds to be up so his chair could fly past and away from the enthusiastic Who.

"Jojo!" Ned cried in dismay as his son once again refused to acknowledge him beyond a mere stare. But he didn't have time to dwell on that, for another daughter of his took the place before him, ready for her twelve-second share of her father. And he had several more after this one. Until he was finished, he had to forget about it.

His relationship with his son didn't used to be this strained. They used to have a great time together, just like he and any one of his daughters. But as he got older, they became more and more distant. He really hoped none of the girls followed their brother's example.

"I just don't understand it," Ned muttered that night to his wife. She was comfortably situated in their bed, reading a book, while he couldn't bring himself to even lie down. He just sat at the side of the bed, wringing his tie out of nervous habit. The cool metal of the mayoral crest gave him comfort. But at the same time as it comforted him, it reminded him of his son, the boy who would succeed him as Mayor of Whoville. "We used to be so close. What happened? He just ignores me, no matter how hard I try."

No longer able to sit still, he got up off of the bed and began to pace. Sally licked her thumb and turned the page, easily able to listen to her husband and read her book at the same time. Multitasking to an insane degree was something she had to learn while taking care of Ninety-seven kids. "Did you ever try taking him out to have a father-son day with him?"

"Believe me, I've tried plenty of times. They've all ended in disaster, though. He usually ignores me even more after days like those," the mayor sighed, running his hand through his hair. Was it thinning? No, never mind, it was the same. "It's frustrating."

"Hey, I've got a crazy little idea," Sally said, turning another page. "You keep trying to get his attention, right?"

"Of course, that's what I've been saying."

"But he continues to ignore you."

"Yes, we've established that," the Who grumbled, flopping down on the bed once more. "Why are you repeating what I said?"

"Because you keep doing the same thing so many times, I may as well repeat it to you," she nodded and closed her book. It was very thick and plain looking. "I've been doing a little studying. What if you tried ignoring him?"

Ned sat up, looking at her as though she had grown wings on her neck and started floating away. "What? What good would that do? We'd just be both ignoring each other and things would keep going the same."

"Not exactly true," his wife said confidently, holding up the book to him.

He raised an eyebrow at it. "Reverse Psychology?"

She nodded, smiling softly. "Too much of a good thing can be bad, you know. Like cupcakes. They're sweet, but too many will make you sick. Think about it a little. You give Jojo as much attention as you possibly can. He may be tired of it. Try ignoring him for a while. You'll see, he'll start feeling lonely without his father's attention and might come to you for some instead of you going to him."

The Who still looked skeptical, but seemed to be considering it. After all, his wife would never lead him wrong. "I guess I don't have much to lose," he decided, shrugging. "It won't be too much different, I guess. When I talk to him, it's like talking to a brick. Or a wall. Or a brick wall. Yeah, that sounds right." He gave her a sly smile. "Would you make me cupcakes to wallow in if it doesn't work, regardless of too much of a good thing being bad for me?"

She laughed and Ned grinned, feeling a bit better than before.

Teusday

"Later, Daddy!" Gwen called out to her father as her time was up and her chair moved on.

"Later, sweetie!" Ned affectionately called back, giving her a little wave.

He looked forward and coughed when he saw the turned-away chair, obviously containing Jojo. He glanced at his wife, who gave him a reassuring smile. He looked back at the chair and propped his chin on his hand, waiting silently for the clock to ring. Twelve seconds later, it did, and the chair rushed past them without a sound.

Wendy came next, giving him a surprised look. "Daddy, why didn't you talk to Jojo?"

"Honey, it's you-and-me time right now, don't waste it!" Ned cried, picking her up and tickling her. She squealed in delight, immediately forgetting what she had asked.

Meanwhile, on another side of the table, Jojo had turned his seat back around and was giving his father a wide-eyed look.

"Jojo, what did you do?" asked Gwen.

The boy merely shrugged, shaking his head. He swiftly took a piece of the pancake in front of him just before the chairs moved once more. He hopped out of his seat and walked out of the room with his snatched food, mulling over what had just happened.

But what was it exactly that had happened? He had turned his chair away like normal in a small, normally futile attempt to ignore his father. When his chair had moved over to his parent's end of the table, he fully expected the every-day routine. Why hadn't his father turned his chair and try talking to him like usual? Maybe he was distracted. Was it his tooth?

The boy finished off the pancake and licked at his sticky fingers. That made sense. Maybe his dad's love for sweets finally decided to give him a good kick in the mouth. He couldn't help giggling at the mental image this thought caused.

"Really?" Ned pulled his wife close, a smile spreading across his lips. Breakfast was almost over and their children were either finishing up or gathering miscellaneous things for their day at school.

Sally nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, his eyes were huge! You really surprised him."

"Oh yay!" the Who cried happily, hugging her tight and twirling around in a circle. "You were right! Right, right, right! I ignored him and now he wants his dad's attention!"

"Woo! Not yet, but keep this up and he will," his wife said, laughing.

"Yeah, I- Wait, what?" He dropped his wife to her feet, giving her a confused look. "What do you mean, 'not yet?' I thought you said he was surprised?"

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean he won't be coming to you immediately," Sally explained, smoothing down her ruffled fur. "Something like this could take a few days, maybe a week, sometimes even a month."

"Wha- A month!?" Ned's eyes were as wide as saucers. "But you didn't say it would take this long! How do I know if it's working if it takes that long? I don't like ignoring him like this."

"Honey, don't you remember what I said? You surprised him. You're making progress. It looks like this may take only a few days, trust me. I read the book, I know what I'm talking about."

"I… alright," the mayor sighed. "You're right. I guess it'll be worth the wait, too. Yeah."

The mayor was quite anxious to get home that evening. He had even decided to take a unicycle, that being much faster than the normal walking. Of course, he hadn't counted on it taking almost the same amount of time. There was a small accident involving angry children and a defenseless ice cream Who. Needless to say, his duty as mayor required him to help put a stop to the horrible, horrible mess. This caused him quite a delay, making him get home, as I said, at almost the same time as he normally would have. In fact, he was just a bit later than normal, but that hardly matters.

He entered his house, greeted home enthusiastically by his wife and a few of his daughters. "Hello Roxanne, Gini, Leanne, Jean, Olivia, Ilana, Peg… and a very special hello to you, Sally," Ned eagerly returned their greetings before giving his wife a big kiss that quickly caused his daughters to disperse in disgust. Sally laughed at this, watching as the last girl to escape the room tripped on the edge of a rug, stood back up without missing a beat, and bolted from the room.

"They're so sweet," she remarked.

Ned giggled, but was cut short when Jojo wandered into the room with a comb and a lampshade. Automatically, he was about to ask his son what he was doing but a quick tug on his tie, courtesy of his wife, caused his question to be stopped and strangled in his throat.

His wife gave him a smooth smile. "Why don't you go see if Olivia is all right from that fall," she said softly.

"Y-Yeah, sure. Can't have anyone breaking any bones or anything in this house," Ned said pointlessly and bounded out of the room, nearly tripping over that very same rug that his daughter had tripped over as he left.

Sally laughed to herself before turning to leave through a different door, 'accidentally' bumping into Jojo on the way. "Oh, sorry sweetie, didn't see you there," she apologized, picking up the lampshade she had caused him to drop. "Wow, haven't seen this thing in a long time. I thought we threw it away…? Oh well. So how have you been? Anything new happen?"

The boy shrugged as he took the shade his mother held out to him. Unbeknownst to the both of them, Ned had strayed at the door to eavesdrop. His heart sank at his son's negative response. Hadn't he surprised him? Now it was as though nothing different had happened. He backed away from the door and shuffled off to find his daughter.

Friday

Again with the sliding chairs. Every twelve seconds they would smoothly slide to the side just like every day. Jojo, unlike during normal days, kept his eyes on his parent's side of the table. Everything was happening as it did all the time. Their father conversed with his sisters, smoothly changing topics without missing a beat as each new girl came before him. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing, that is, except for his dad having no intention of talking to him.

Jojo had noticed and was surpirised at his father's sudden change in behavior. He seemed to be avoiding him and found any excuse possible to not talk to him. This was obviously not normal. At first he enjoyed this sudden lack of suffucating attention. Now he could go through a day without having his father run up to him at some random moment and try to carry on a one-sided conversation. Despite this pleasant change, though, it was starting to grate on his nerves. Was it something he did? Was it something he said (or rather, didn't say)?

Today, things were going on basically the same way as it had been for the past few days. Nothing was different. At least not until Jojo's turn. This time, the boy had decided to keep his chair faced toward the table when he reached them rather than turn it around.

This, his father apparently did not expect. He had been leaning tiredly forward, but then he jumped upright in his seat now that he was under the scrutiny of his son's gaze. He looked like he was about to say something, but stopped, ending up making a 'guh' noise. He glanced at his wife as though asking for help.

Jojo watched this with the same bored look he always gave his father, efficiently hiding his inner confusion. What was going on? Right now his father was merely staring nonchalantly down at his coffee, swirling it around instead of enthusiastically babbling to his son, trying to break through the wall between them.

In no time, the alarm rang and his chair shot past his parents. Yet again, Jojo had not spoken a word to his father. And just like the past few days, Ned had not spoken a word to his son. At least not beyond the 'guh' noise and a coughing fit when his coffee went down the wrong pipe. The girls had begun to notice and question this strange behavior, much to the mayor's distress. "Don't waste your twelve seconds!" he would cry and try to spend with them their rightful time. But convincing so many daughters was no easy task. Jojo considered staying to hear the conversations, but decided against it when he heard Rita's high-pitched gossip. He slid out of his chair and left the room, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

His feet lead him to the living room, where some of his sisters that had finished early were sitting around doing whatever they felt like as long as it wasn't violently destructive. He flopped down on an empty space on the couch and stared at the TV. The cartoon kept his attention only for a little while before his mind started to wander, dwelling on questions he had already asked himself. Too bad he had yet to come up with any answers.

Question: Why wasn't his father speaking to him?

Answer: Uh.

It was frustrating to say the least. Was he angry with him? He couldn't recall doing anything wrong, other than not speaking. But he'd been doing that for a while now, so there was no reason for his father to become angry so suddenly. It took a lot to get the cheery Who mad. Plus he didn't look angry at the table a few moments ago. Maybe nervous, but that was about it.

Jojo shook his head, trying to derail his train of thought. Why should he be worrying? He never really cared about what his father spoke of anyway, so why was he worried about it now? Cartoons are much more interesting than worrying, so why not shift focus there?

There was a blue cat tripping over his feet as he tried to run away from a dog. His sisters snickered wildly at the poor thing's misfortune. He idly wondered why the makers of the cartoon made the cat blue, but the dog brown. Why was the dog such a boring color? It should be red, to oppose the blue colored cat. Blue was a nice color. His dad seemed to think so too, as his fur had been styled with that color. Why was his blue-clad father not talking to him?

Jojo cursed under his breath, causing a nearby sister to raise an eyebrow at him.

"This is good, Ned, he's trying to catch your attention again," Sally said reassuringly as her husband paced before her.

The mayor stopped and wrung his hands together. "But it's kinda hard to ignore someone who's staring right at you, y'know?"

To his confusion, Sally laughed. "Jojo seems to have unintentionally used the same thing on you." She continued to laugh while her husband gave her a funny look. She shook her head, waving it off. "You shouldn't let this get to you. Jojo's the one who should be getting riled up or nervous, not you. Just relax, okay?"

The Who hesitated for a moment, looking as though an inner debate was happening. After a little bit, he sighed and stopped wringing his hands, allowing them to drop to his sides. "Yeah… you're right. It's just… It's been driving me crazy, y'know? Ignoring any one of my kids… it's like…"

Sally swiftly stood and hugged him, catching him off guard. "Don't worry so much, you'll give yourself gray hairs," she said, a laugh present in her voice. "Trust my awesome motherly intuition, everything will be fine, okay?"

Saturday

"We've got what we need…"

…?

"We need what we've got…"

Where am I?

"We like it in Who-ville…"

What is this?

"We like it a lot."

Oh no…

Everything seemed slowed down as the room's occupants finished the pledge and everyone took their seats. All except one, that is. In the middle of the room stood one Who. All eyes bore into him like needles. He stared back, his eyes wide and darting everywhere. No matter who he looked at, their eyes were always cold and judging.

"Mr. Mayor." The lone Who jumped as the head of the Who-ville council, VonFrood, addressed him. "Is there something wrong?" There was no concern in his voice, only annoyance. He looked up at the councilman, seeing that his eyes were just as cold as the others. "No?" he spoke slowly, as though addressing a child. "Then do tell us, Mr. Mayor, of the goings on. Did you fill out those… very important documents?"

He tried to speak, but it was as if his voice was gone.

"No?" he repeated and tsked scornfully. "I'm afraid… we'll have to do something about this."

The Who gasped as the chairman pressed one of the button before him. Hands came down from the ceiling and grabbed the sides of his face, forcing his cheeks into a painful smile. He yelped and whimpered as he was lifted right off of his feat.

"That's too many mistakes, Mr. Mayor," he heard that same, horrible, condescending voice. "Too many times you've disappointed us. You're a blemish on all that is good in Who-ville. You are a failure!" He looked pleadingly up at the head councilman and his blood ran cold when he was no longer the green Who, but his father, scowling and full of hate and disappointment.

"N-No!" he exclaimed, his voice finally working. He twisted and squirmed, trying to break free from those horrible hands. "Let me go!"

His voice was drowned out by the angry shouts from the Whos surrounding him. They spat insults and hate. I can't handle this! They leapt from their seats and converged around him. This isn't me! They tried to claw him down but he held onto the hands with his own. I'm not supposed to be here! They yanked hard and he tasted blood as the mechanical hands dug into his cheeks, tearing them. I don't want to be mayor!

Jojo sat up in bed, his hands pressed hard against his mouth as he tried to muffle a scream. His eyes wildly darted around, soaking in the comforting sight of his own, safe room. He willed his heart and breath to slow, trying to calm himself back down. His fur was matted from sweat and the taste of blood still lingered in his mouth.

The boy whimpered and wiped furiously at his eyes. Crying doesn't do any good, he told himself. It just shows how much of a baby you are. He let out a shaky sigh, relaxing once more as the fear from the nightmare slowly began to subside. He hadn't had a bad dream like that in a long time.

He pushed the covers off of himself and slid out of bed, still feeling too apprehensive to sleep just yet. He quietly left the room, deciding to get a glass of water before attempting to return to sleep. His mouth felt so dry, it might help. As he wandered down the hall, his brow furrowed when he heard the sound of people talking. He approached the doorway leading to the living room, where the voices could be heard. He realized it was the TV. Who left the TV on? He peaked inside.

There he was. He could see his father's wild hair poking up over the back of the couch from his point of view. Strange, his father was the kind of person to say 'early to bed, early to rise!' Then again, he didn't have work the next day, so maybe he figured he could afford to lose some sleep for once.

Jojo shuffled his feet as he stood at the doorway, hesitant on leaving. Idly, he listened to the characters chat on the quiet TV as though to distract himself. He couldn't see what was going on, but it was easy enough to figure out what was happening just by listening. Everybody Loves Raywhond was on and, as usual, Raywhond was not feeling any of the love that the title promised.

The boy shook his head and rapped his fingers softly against the doorway out of nervousness. An image from his earlier nightmare flashed within his mind of his father giving him that condescending, disappointed look.

Does he hate me? he thought fearfully and his breath hitched. He shook his head again. Don't be stupid, you're just tired. You're going to turn around right now, either get some water or don't, get back to bed, and wake up tomorrow all refreshed and nightmare free.

That sounded like a good plan. Too bad he had yet to budge from the doorway. He just kept staring at the back of the couch, thinking about his nightmare. Was he disappointing his father? He had tried not to… but he probably ended up doing so anyway. He thumped his head against the doorway. I'm only feeling this way because of a stupid dream that I'm taking way too seriously and nothing more.

But is that why he isn't talking to me anymore? he wondered numbly. He's disappointed?

He ordered himself to stop thinking and tentatively stepped into the room. He crept along the couch, stopping at the armrest. He was too short to see over it, and his father was sitting more near the center rather than at this side, but the boy knew he was only a few, short feet away. He took a breath and stood on the tips of his toes, pushing himself high enough to peak over the edge. "D-Dad?" He winced his eyes shut, fully expecting his father to whip around and demand to know why he was up so late.

No such thing happened.

The boy opened his eyes once more and saw that his father had not moved. Not even a little. "Dad?" he tried once more, yielding the same results. There was a snort and the boy's jaw dropped in surprise. His father was asleep! It was dark, despite the light from the TV, so it had been hard to tell. Now that he knew, there was no mistaking. His dad was sleeping at the couch. The sight was rather comical, really, now that he could see it. The Who's head was lolled to the side and a line of drool was sliding down his cheek.

Jojo dropped from his toes and made his way around the side of the couch, a lot less nervous now that he knew the guy was unconscious. Despite his relief, he couldn't help but feel a tad disappointed. He stood in front of the couch in hesitation as he looked up at his dad. He hadn't noticed it before, but it looked like he hadn't been getting much sleep lately from the slight circles under his eyes. He wondered what had been keeping him up.

Unexpectedly, that same sneering look from his nightmare came flashing into his mind. He… wouldn't really look at me like that… would he?

The boy frowned to himself and twiddled his thumbs. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and grabbing his dad's lanky arm. "Dad?" he shook the arm and winced. His dad did not stir. His whisper had been too quiet and his shake had been too soft.

Should I even bother? I feel like such a baby.

Deciding to ignore these thoughts after another moment's hesitation, Jojo tried again. "Dad," he said louder, giving the older Who's arm a rougher shake.

Ned snorted and bolted upright with his eyes still closed. "I wasn't asleep," he stated just before a yawn forced its way out of his throat. "Just resting my eyes," he murmured more softly. He relaxed back onto the couch and rubbed at his eye with a fist. "Just gimme… gim a… min… nnh" He was obviously dozing off again considering his rapidly deteriorating speech and the fact that his hand fell from his face to his chest.

For a moment, the boy considered just giving up and going back to bed. The thought of his nightmare quickly stopped him, though. "Dad," he hissed once more and shook his arm.

"Mmwha? Jojo?" Ned said, finally opening up his eyes. He sleepily rubbed at his eyes again, this time trying to stay awake. "What're you doin' up so late?"

Jojo looked down, suddenly finding the floor to be oh so very interesting, and took a breath. "I… I had a bad dream." He winced at how childish that sounded.

It was at this point that Ned sat up, fully alert. Not only had one of his children expressed distress, but his tired brain had just realized a simple yet amazing fact; his son was talking to him! He had approached him and was acknowledging his presence with more than just a bored stare. Sally was right, that reverse psychology stuff really worked. But what was more important right now was the fact that his son needed comfort. He patted at the empty space next to him with his hand, indicating that he should sit. He noticed the boy grimace slightly before clamoring up onto the couch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

Jojo said nothing, staring at his feet instead. Inwardly, he was berating himself. He felt like he was being such a baby. My dream wasn't that bad, he chided himself. Why am I being so stupid?

Ned sensed the boy's distress and put a hand on his shoulders, giving them a squeeze. "You know, if you don't want to you don't have to tell me what it was. But if you want, I'll stay up with you until you feel ready to go to bed, okay?"

The boy rolled his eyes and smirked. Despite his embarrassment, he couldn't help but feel comforted by this. He nodded, but kept his eyes down so he ended up not seeing his father's wide grin.

So then, they ended up just sitting there watching TV. Jojo just kept his eyes glued to it, avoiding any other contact with his father other than the hand still on his shoulders. Despite how he wanted his dad's presence for comfort, now that he was getting it, it felt a little awkward. Funny how the very person he was seeking comfort from was now making him feel uncomfortable. They were saying nothing to each other, just like during their meals. But his father had spoken to him just a little bit ago. So what was wrong?

"Um… Dad?"

"Hyeah?"

He took a breath and twiddled his thumbs. "Are you… Are you mad at me?"

"Well, your grades are doing fine and to my knowledge you haven't broken anything… so no." He suppressed a yawn. "Why do you ask?"

The boy smirked at his father's obvious fatigue, but otherwise ignored it. "Well… you stopped talking to me…"

"I did, didn't I?" he said simply and was quiet for a moment. "Guess we stopped talking to each other for a little while then, huh?" The boy's eyes widened. Was that why? His dad stopped trying to talk to him because he himself wouldn't talk either? The older Who shifted in his seat a bit. "Sorry for sounding like a parrot, but are you mad at me?"

After a moment's thought, Jojo shook his head. He wasn't mad at his father. It would be easy to be, but he wasn't.

Ned gave his son's shoulders a squeeze and smiled. He was curious about the reason for his son's silence but he figured that if he wanted to tell him he would tell on his own. He would probably be a lot less willing to talk about it if he asked up front.

They continued to watch TV, this time with a more relaxed air about them. After a little while, Jojo glanced up in surprise when he felt his father jerk. He looked up and saw he was nodding off, but trying desperately to stay awake. His eyes kept rolling up and his head kept falling to his chest, but he would twitch and jerk it back up again. Obviously he was fighting a losing battle. What had made him so tired? Did it have something to do with the recent silence between them? Worry did make him lose sleep...

The boy sighed and leaned against the older Who, finding that watching him was making him feel tired as well.

In no time, they were both asleep.

Flash. Wince. Squint. Grin. Groan.

Sally had wandered into the living room, being the only one awake. She was usually the first one up as there were plenty of motherly duties to be done. When she noticed no husband next to her in the bed when she had awakened, she quickly grew worried. When she had entered the living room, though, she could barely contain an exclamation at the precious sight that awaited her. Ned was lying on the couch with his son curled up in his protective arms, the both of them fast asleep.

Father son photo! she thought to herself. Swiftly, she retrieved a camera and took a picture, wanting to capture this most adorable moment. The flash from the camera caused the two to stir.

Ned buried his face into the armrest and groaned tiredly. "No cupcakes please," he murmured and continued to sleep.

Jojo blinked his eyes open and looked up blearily, rubbing his eyes and yawning wide as he clumsily sat up. He looked at his smiling mother and made a small noise of confusion.

"You," she said simply and poked his nose. She stood upright and walked away, leaving him to wonder just what the heck that was about.

A/N: And that's the end. Sorry, it was poor. But I have a bit of a soft spot for this story since it's really the first fanfic idea I came up with for HHaW.

The ending part with Sally was probably unnecessary, but I felt it was too cute to get rid of. Besides, a lot of things in stories are unnecessary, but sometimes they add flavor. Yum. Like if you eat a hotdog with ketchup you don't actually need the ketchup on to enjoy it, but it makes it just a little better. Unless you don't like ketchup, or you can't stand the taste of the hotdog without the ketchup. But that's where genres come in. I'd elaborate, but I believe I've rambled on enough.

Oh, one more thing. I know the name VonFrood origionated form an RP, but it fits so perfectly that I must use it. Yup.