Okay. Okay. Um... All that disclaimer stuff (man, can't believe I spelled that wrong the first time...um...never mind...). Uh...about all the quotes. I got them from this site by this person named Leanna. Now, Leanna, out there, if you're reading this, I am sorry to say I...uh...lost the link to your site. I'm sorry. All the credit for most of the quotes go to Leanna, if that's how you spell your name, okee? Good. One more thing: if you like this, I'll continue it to the next part. If you don't, I won't and I'll delete it. I am serious. This is just an experiment for me, to see if anyone other than my friends like this. I think I'll shut up now. I'm babbling, aren't I? Yes, I am. And, really,
Life is a Road…
God, bless my people.
They look to you still.
God, bless the outcast.
Or nobody will…
From Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame (sp…)
Prologue:
Some people say life is like a box of chocolate. You never now what you're gonna get. Or, at least, Forrest Gump says that.
Others say, like my mother once, life is a road, rocky at times, smooth and peaceful other times.
Both could be right, but I like the latter better. Life is too corrupt to be like chocolate.
My name is Tobias. I started my life out being given that name. I ended my life being given another.
I was once loved, then hated and despised, then loved again, while being hated at the exact same time.
That's why life's a twisted, debased road. It moves under your feet, confusing you, making you wonder what on earth is happening.
I had ups and downs. Mostly downs, but I did have my ups, and that's what helped me live as long as I did. Downs are what kill you, eating your hope away like their acid. Ups are like…chocolate, keeping you alive, building up the hope the acid kills.
It's a confusing cycle, but it's true. I ought to know.
I'm still a hated person, still despised. I'm still a loved person, loved by people who say they hate me, that all the love they'd ever had for me is gone, but there's always that little clump inside them that will never, ever melt.
And that's why humans are weird.
That's also why I cherish having human in me.
It's a major factor in living, and, without it, living might as well be dying.
Am I confusing you?
I hope so. That way you can feel the confusion that overwhelmed every last bit of confidence I'd ever had…
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. --Theodore Roosevelt
"Oh, you poor thing. You look just like your mother," my aunt'd always say, like my mother was that ugly.
Wait. That makes me sound like I think I'm not ugly. But my mother wasn't. So how can I look like her?
Whatever.
Anyway, I belived her. I was only ten and for some odd reason, believed every word that came from her mouth. Weird as it is, I appreciated how she took me in. At least I wasn't put in a foster home.
I had a bad childhood, I guess. My uncle was drunk and abused me. My aunt hated my guts and ignored me. She made me buy the cheapest clothes and only gave me enough food so she wouldn't be prosecuted for murder if I died of starvation.
I guess it would have been better it I had an aunt and uncle that were married. I don't know. But the ones I had were divorced and would do anything to murder each other.
And I was the weapon they passed between them, something to toture the other with. So there was no love. It was just miserable hatred, a thing each wanted to throw back to the other as soon as they could. I was a boring, uninvited game where as soon as one got me, I was thrown quickly back. Like hot potato.
My aunt got so sick of paying for me and my, "Rude complaining for some new pants because mine were turning into 'high-waters'," she passed me back to my uncle when I was thirteen. April. Near the middle of the school year.
Great. I was going to be in big trouble. I'd gone to some of the worst schools in the US and now I couldn't even take my EOGs there. What a life.
My uncle's house looked, smelled, and felt the same: absolutely awful. I hated it. At least my aunt made some money. She was a secretary and could afford to live in a nice, little apartment. My uncle, on the other hand, lived in a tiny, little cottage next to a harmful-waste dump. It had bad plumbing and smelled like crap. The distinct smell of beer mingled with it.
I stepped out of the taxi with my backpack and two small boxes of things onto a muddy, dirt road. I slammed the door and the cabbie/y (which?) drove off, like the place was haunted. Or at least dangerous. I knew that for a fact. My uncle had been told he should move away from the place. It was dangerous. But it only costed a thousand dollars ad was already paid for, so he thought, Risk cancer and asbestosis and radiation poisoning and about every other known disease! I can afford this place!
I walked up to the rotted door and pushed it open (we didn't have a lock!) and stepped in to the shocking smell of compost and cigarette smoke and Buddwiser (sp? One 'd'?) beer all mixed together. I was taken aback at the stench. I was used to the Lysol smell and potpourri.
The floor creaked under my feet and had a weird stickiness to it. I was standing in the kitchen, where the floor was an extremely dirty linoleum. The counters looked like they needed to be replace and so did the tiny table. But then there was a huge refridgerator and all the brand-name foods every inch of the counters. I saw roaches pigging-out on some of them.
I looked into the living room, which was seperated from the kitchen only by a line that changed the floor from nasty linoleum to nasty carpet. I stepped onto the carpet, hating the feeling of the linoleum under my bobo shoes. My uncle had a new-looking sofa facing a huge TV. A beat-up looking coffee table sat in front of the sofa, beer cans and cigarette ashes strewed all over it. I walked across the small room and studied the expensive-looking sterio, CDs and records surrounding it. I looked at some on the left side, all records: The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Aerosmith, Madonna. Then I looked at the CDs on the right side: Leann Rimes, Randy Travis (sp?). There were also some non-country ones, like Everclear, The Barenaked Ladies, so on.
I shrugged and closed the glass case door. My uncle must have been at work. He was a plumber and I'd always wondered why he never fixed his toilet.
I walked over to the wooden staircase and slowly walked up, like the steps would crush under my weight. My uncle had a room downstairs and there were two extra upstairs, along with a bathroom and tiny hallway. I went to the one I'd stayed in when I was nine, the last time I'd been there. It smelled like beer and the sheets looked very dirty. I guess other people had been staying in "my" room. I let my backpack drop to the floor and set the box down. I looked around. It was a mess and smelled like other people. I hated that and went right to work at cleaning it up.
I'd stolen some Lysol from my aunt because I'd expected the place to smell like beer and crud. I opened the windows and aired out the place, although all the air did was make it stink even more. I took off the old sheets and put on my own. I had my own, which was odd.
That's what I did that whole afternoon: make "my" room truly be my room.
When I finished, I just sat down and pet my cat Dude. Yes, my cat.
My uncle got home at six. I heard him cursing.
I went to the stairs and listened. He had some lady over.
"Really, I haven't had time to clean my place up, Donna. Man. I think I'm gonna sue the city, while we're at it, for putting that dump next to my _____ house."
"Donna" said, "You got a beer?"
Perfect for him, I thought bitterly. I decided I'd show myself, get it over with.
I went down the stairs and said, "Hey," in a soft voice.
My uncle stopped his beer can in midair. "What are you doing here?"
I felt my face heat up. "Aunt Judy (don't like that name) sent me, remember?"
Donna stared at me. "Who's he?"
"My ____ nephew. Now I gotta enroll him in school and everything! ________!"
That's the welcome I got.
My uncle signed me up and sent me to school three days later. I had to walk a mile to the nearest bus stop.
As I waited, I came a conclusion, I hate my life. Why can I die now and get it over with? Why are you making me suffer, God? Why me? It's my name, isn't it? You think I' some kind of prophet, don't you? By this point, I came to this conclusion, I hate my mother and father. Why did they name me Tobias? Why? Why me?
I got to school, still thinking the same thing, and it kept changing every few seconds. I hate you, God. Why are you doing this to me? I hate you. Why me? Why me? I hate you, Tobias. Why are you toturing me? Now God's gonna toture me for you saying you hated him and I'm never gonna have any friends!
That speaks the truth. I got bullied and swirlied that day. Or, at least, before homebase. Then I was just stared at. So maybe my clothes were a little bit "out-of-it" but hey?
To be honest, I noticed girls were staring at me. Was this a good thing or bad? I didn't know.
After that day, there was a weekend, where I was totured to smell hazardous chemicals and have my uncle curse and hit me.
Monday came and I was actually relieved. I didn't have to worry about dropping dead from the smell. I got picked on and swirlied again. Some guy named Jake saved me this time. Maybe he'd be my friend. I guess.
Tuesday went by boringly. Wednesday nothing. Thursday, nothing. Friday…something fairly big…Friday was the day that changed my life forever. The day I met my father for the first time. The day I finally had friends…
Home is not where you live, but where they understand you. --Christian Morgenstern
I'm an Animorph, as you may know. A person/hawk who has the power to morph. Morphing was seemingly a great weapon, at first, when we first did it. But I later thought it was a great curse.
No, not because of getting trapped as a hawk, or having to face the decision to become human again. It was how it dragged us into this war. It seized control of us.
I know it sounds as if I'm complaining, but my true goal is to tell the honest, absolute truth. Morphing brought more pain upon me than I'd ever had, which has to be a lot: I've got the scars to prove I'd had pain before.
But morphing brought on scars that were not outside, visable, or cureable (sp?). Morphing gave me scars inside, giving my other scars company.
The main cause of my scars was the fact that I couldn't cry as a hawk, I couldn't walk, I couldn't feel.
But on with the show.
I made friends that night, with the guy Jake, who saved me, Marco, Jake's best friend, Rachel, and Cassie.
Of course, I didn't think they were real friends until I got trapped as a hawk and they didn't abandon me.
If you are a Yeerk, you have followed every adventure we've had yet, I suppose. Why write them again, only from my point-of-view? I see no point.
So I will start here:
Our visions of what is better are always informed by our perception of what is bad about our present situation. --Lugones & Spelman
I'd had, so far, what you may define as a horrible life. There were many times I considered suicide as an option. But then I'd always go, Nah. Hell'll be worst. Live through this life the best you can. Then maybe, just maybe, heaven will welcome you. After all, I believe in God. Isn't that enough? Is it, God, buddy ol' pal?
The Ellimist decided he'd give me a reward, I guess. He gave me the ability to become a human and have some things most people couldn't: keep all my morphs and still have my morphing power. Did he love me or hate me?
I hadn't a clue.
I was told this in private, which I appreciated greatly. No Rachel around. Thanks so much, Ellimist.
I now wish I had just become human. It would've saved me. And the others.
I'm a human being. I'm an Andalite. I'm also a hawk.
And that is what killed me. The real me.
A fool is someone whose pencil wears out before its eraser does. --Marilyn vos Savant
Suppose, just suppose, that maybe, let's say, I saw my mother. Now, let's say, the human in me kind of lost it. Let's also say my mother was, possibly, a high-ranking Yeerk. A Visser, perhaps?
Now, let's say, I stop with the 'let's say's. And face reality. That is what happened.
I was flying over town, right? Just minding my hawk business. Looking inconspicuous.
But then, weird as it is, I felt a kind of pulling at me. Like I was being drawn somewhere by fate, as weird as that is.
I thought, What else is there to do? So I just went with it.
And I saw her. A perfect match to the worn sketch in my brain of my mother.
I guess I went a little "nuts" then. No matter how unbelievable as it is, I, Tobias, actually thought spoke (sp?) to a lady who coincidentally looked like my mom. I guess there are just times in life where you forget all cautions and do something deadly just to reach something you thought you needed.
Like forgetting there was a car coming down the street when you see your long-lost puppy and end up getting run over. That's the way it happened to me. I got run over.
No, not literally. Figuratively.
It went a little like this:
< Mommy! > Yes, I said "mommy". I told you, I was hysterical.
The lady's head snapped around, her blond hair flipping into her face. "Andalite!" she hissed.
One part of my mind went, Uh-oh.
But my giddy with uncontrollable joy part won, and went, < Mom! Up here! It's me! Tobias! >
I saw my "mother's" blue eyes wander up to the sky, her hair blowing all in her face from the wind.
< Up here! I'm the bird! >
Tobias, you ________, stop it!
I flew down and perched on her shoulder. One part of my brain was actually groveling, God, no! NO! NO-O-O-O-O!!!!!! NOT NOW! I DON'T WANNA DIE! Wait. Yes I do. Go, Tobias!
Yet another part tried another method, Tobias…you'll kill Rachel if you do this, it crowed. You really wanna kill RA-chel?
But the stupid longing part of me was in control. < Hi, MOMMY!!!! Long time, no see! It's me, your son. The talking bird on your shoulder. Boy, have I been through a lot since you let. Aunt Judy and Uncle Ray are so mean. Or were. But I did make friends. That's why I'm a bird. I can morph. Prince Elfangor gave me the power. My dad. Yep, yep. Remember him? You guys had a baby together. Yep! Me! >
I saw the Yeerk's eyes grow wide with satisfaction. She obviously figured I was a babbling idiot, but I was useful.
"Oh, Tobias!" she said in fake joy. "I've missed you. Come along with me. We'll go someplace fun."
I don't know how I didn't shut up. I guess I retaining a small strand of hope my "mommy" was here for me and she wasn't a Yeerk.
"So," the Yeerk said. "Tell me, Tobias. Are you a nothlit?"
I didn't even ask how she knew the term nothlit. I just rambled on, < Yes, but see, I think the Ellimist likes me or something. He gave me the power to morph, but I was still a hawk. I was a hawk with the power to morph, you know? But then! The Ellimist must have pitied me! He gave me the ability to morph my old human self-which he allowed me to acquire by messing with time a bit-and still have the morphing power and all the same morphs. And I'll still look the right age! Great, huh? But I had no one to live with! Lucky Rachel doesn't know this. >
"Rachel? Who's 'Rachel'?" the Yeerk asked as it led me somewhere.
< An Animorph, of course. >
"Ah." I noticed she led me down a long staircase, but did not take that in as a problem. I should've.
She led me down to a Yeerk pool. And I didn't even really notice. Not even when she forced me to morph human. Not even when she slapped some kind of tag on my arm that she said would annihilate my morphing powers as long as I had it on.
It was only when I was led down a long plank and my head was pushed into the sludgy liquid and I felt a Yeerk delicately touch my ear that I suddenly woke from my vertiginous dreams.
"No!" I screamed, my mouth filling with the fluid from the pool. What I said came out gurgling, but still I screamed, trying to squirm from the Hork-Bajir that held me. "No! God, no! NO! No, no, no, no, no! No, no, NO!" I struggled, but it was too late. I felt the horrid, horrid sensation of a Yeerk entering my ear. It numbed it. My head was pulled from the pool and I gasped.
The Yeerk slid the rest of the way into my head, happily wrapping itself around my highly valuable brain. It tapped into the memories of things I'd been sworn to secrecy about. Things that could never be let out. Things that were being let out.
I had doomed my whole existence, the whole human race.
Every person I'd ever loved.
All that is worth cherishing in this world begins in the heart, not the head. --Suzanne Chazin
He flipped through the parts of my brain. < Ah! Here we are: Rachel is your girlfriend, eh? > I was embarrassed. Not really. The thought slipped through my brain. The Yeerk watched with interest. < Oh,> he crowed. < You want her to be your girlfriend. > What was this? Wasn't he supposed to be destroying my life, rather than embarrassing me? He had already walked me from the Yeerk pool over to the underground eating area, so he could open my brain easily. According to other Yeerks, I was a grand host. He was lucky he got me. Yes, I'd read what he'd been thinking. He read my brain, happily making little remarks, like, < Ooooh, we've got to make him one of us! > But then he found the part of my brain that I'd tried to protect. He opened it. Now I really heard him. < You can morph? Oh, a human who can-No wait. You're a nothlit… Oh, human, you are interesting… > He was so happy at his discovery. I felt sick, but was too weak to fight him. I'd betrayed my friends… How could I…? I felt like crying. < …Five humans and an Andalite- Oh, not just any five humans! You're not completely human, are you know, Tobias? You're Elfangor's son! Visser Three suspected and he didn't find it out! Ha, ha, ha! You are quite shrewd, now, aren't you? > He read through my whole mind like it was a book. Then he stood up and walked out of the whole cavern and started walking down the street. He'd washed my head off so I didn't have all that gunk on my face. The Yeerk introduced himself. < I'm Oftissed 1547. Call me 'Off'. Now, let's go off and find Rachel. I'm sure she'll like to hear you're completely human now! > He laughed evilly and I suddenly realized he was gonna play some games before he turned us all in. He'd talked to my mother's Yeerk before and they'd decided not to tell anyone just yet that they'd caught the "Andalite bandits". What are you going to do with Rachel? I demanded, worry eating at my heart. He just laughed and stopped my body at a stoplight. No. Not, 'ha, ha, ha'. What are you going to do to Rachel? < Nothing she doesn't want to do. > That was all he said. And I felt like crying for real now. Since our awareness of others is considered our duty, the price we pay when things go wrong is guilt and self-hatred. And things always go wrong. We respond with apologies; we continue to apologize long after the event is forgotten-and even if it had no casual relation to anything we did to begin with. -Nancy Chodorow Off rang Rachel's doorbell and I would've thrown up if I could have. The door opened and one of Rachel's little sisters answered. Jordan, I think? "Is Rachel home?" Off asked. Jordan eyed me for a second, then, "RACHEL! THERE'S A GUY AT THE DOOR TO MEET YOU!" I would've died if I had been in control of my own body. I heard someone come running down the stairs and the Yeerk made my eyes look behind Jordan. Rachel came up to the door. "Tobias?" she said, looking surprised. "Hi," I said back. Rachel gave Jordan a "get out or else" look. Jordan grinned mischievously and back-walked away from the door. Rachel grabbed my arm and jerked me into the house, shutting the door after me. "What are you doing here?" Then she must have noticed I was human. "Why are you…? How long have you…? What's wrong…? I mean…" "I'm human, Rachel," Off told her. "I've been in morph for two hours already. And I can still morph." "How…" She glanced behind her. "Come up to my room. We can't have Jordan over-hearing us." In her room with the door locked, she asked, "What do you mean?" Off sat me down on Rachel's bed. "The Ellimist felt sorry for me, I think. He gave me the option to morph human for over two hours and still have the morphing power with the exact same morphs. I found my mom today, and that's when I decided to become human. Plus, I'd figure you'd want me to…" The Yeerk let it hang, like I might have. Rachel threw her arms around me. "Of course I'd want you to!" She pressed her lips against mine. The real me was shocked. But it was a far away sensation, so I wasn't enjoying it. The Yeerk responded. I wanted to murder him then. It was my first kiss and I wasn't even in control over my own body! Rachel tried to pull away but Off wouldn't let her. She'd been in an odd position, me sitting, her standing, and ended up falling on top of "me", both of us falling onto her bed. "Whoa!" she cried. "Oh, sorry," the Yeerk mumbled, trying to help her up. Just like I would've done. She laughed, and tried to untangle herself from me, being unsuccessful. "Well," she said after a few seconds of struggling. "It seems we are having some difficulties." She tried again and finally managed to roll off of me. She sat up and straightened her clothes. 'I' sat up too. "I'm so sorry, Rachel." She looked at me peculiarly. I felt the Yeerk's worry. Then Rachel laughed. "It's okay, Tobias." She shook her head, still laughing. "It was actually funny." Off was satisfied. < Hmm, she trusts you, > he said. < Perfect… > What do you mean? I cried. You're not gonna try what I think you're gonna try, are you? He studied what I thought he was gonna do and laughed. Rachel was staring at me. "You okay?" she asked. Off wrinkled my nose. "Yeah, but I sure do have a weird life." She laughed warmly. "You wanna meet my mother?" I asked suddenly. She raised an eyebrow, as if considering. Then she said, "Sure. If you want to. Let's just do something. You're human! Let's celebrate!" 'I' smiled. "Cool…" Of all the creatures on this planet none is more dangerous than a human being. --Robert A. Heinlein Off brought Rachel to the place where my mother lived, holding her hand the whole time. I wanted to scream to Rachel, Don't fall for it! Please, Rachel! Don't! It'll only hurt you! Off saw this and answered every time, < Hurt her? No, no. She's a valuable host. Never would I hurt her. > I'd sink back in my mind and try to plan a way to tell Rachel. But I felt like I was a thousand feet under the sea, seeing everything that was going on above me, but was weighed down at the bottom, being able to not reach the top or call to someone. Not a good comparison, is it? Sorry. I've been through a lot. I compare everything to sinking, because I'm always sinking. Plus, if I hate something, I compare it to water, 'cause I hate water. It never hurts a person more when a loved-one is being led to their death while they stand idly watching. It tears you up, like heartburn does. Just an example. At my "mother's" house, she made it so Rachel "accidentally" got hurt. She had to go to the doctors'. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she cried in fake apology. "Here. I'll call a doctor. He lives next door." She ran into the kitchen to call. Off helped Rachel lay down on the coach. She'd slipped on some water on the floor and hurt her ankle. "I'm so sorry," Off said in a worried voice. "I mean-" Rachel laughed. "It's okay. I'm actually fine. Your mother doesn't have to call anybody." "Mom" came into the room with a man trailing behind her. He had a bag with him and smiled at Rachel in a friendly way. Off let me read his mind for a second. This man was a Controller, too. "I see we had a little fall, eh?" he asked Rachel, examining her ankle. "I guess you could say that," Rachel said. "I'm really fine," she insisted as and after thought. The man smiled. "Well, I'm in a field of things like this, and it seems you've torn some ligaments. We have a new way to fix this in a snap." He dug in his bag and pulled out a shot, filled with a blue liquid. I noticed Rachel gulped. Off had been staring at her. "That's gonna help my ankle?" she demanded. The man grinned. "Of course. I'll just put it in your ankle and you'll be fine in a jiffy. I mean, with your permission." Rachel shrugged. The doctor carefully lifted Rachel's ankle and injected the needle. "Ow-ahh-" Rachel grimaced. The Yeerk pulled it out and Rachel's ankle started to bleed. He face was all scrunched up. My "mom" ran into the kitchen and came back with a Band-Aid. She gave it to the sick-looking Rachel, who gingerly placed it where her ankle was bleeding. "There we go," said the doctor. "It'll work in just about five minutes, then you'll be back on your feet." I knew what he'd really injected in Rachel. And I would've thrown up if I could've. The world is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment, every sin already carries grace in it. --Herman Hesse You see, what was injected in Rachel would eliminate her power to morph for a short amount of time. Short, you say. Well, "short" is enough time for Off to reveal himself to Rachel. It was in my meadow. Off said in my voice, "You know, Rachel, the Yeerks aren't all that bad. Some are nice." Please, Yeerk, I thought. < That's "Off" ,> he answered. Yeah. "Off" all right. Why don't you bug off? Be gone! I don't want you here! He chose to ignore my remark. Rachel was staring at him. "Excuse me?" "I mean," Off said, "Cassie had the right idea. Allying with the Yeerks." "She was not allying with the Yeerks! She was making a small bet on peace!" "Yeah, right. We all know differently." Off grabbed her hand. She pulled away. "What is wrong with you?" she hissed, as 'I' grabbed her again, this time in a better grip. She tried to pull away. Then it dawned on her. "Yeerk!" "It took you long enough," Off sneered, grabbing both Rachel's arms. She writhed and squirmed, but Off had her. "Let me go! Tobias, get control!" "Oh, I don't think he's strong enough," Off smirked. "He's just sitting back there, wallowing in self-pity, feeling horrible how he betrayed his dear Rachel." I don't think Rachel liked this. She kicked me hard in the shin. Off's grip loosened enough for Rachel to jab me in the ribs. "Argh!" Off cried. But he still had her. Rachel grabbed my arm and flipped me over, slamming me on the ground. "Whoa!" the Yeerk cried. Rachel backed away. "I guess those self-defense classes my mom made me take paid off. Sorry, Tobias, but everyone always said they'd rather die than be a Yeerk." Off was down on the ground, groaning, and I watched through his eyes as Rachel tried to morph. Her teeth grew sharp and then the whole process stopped. "Whag--?" Rachel cried, her voice slurring. She looked like a vampire, standing there, all human except those very large fangs. Suddenly, she collapsed, screaming in pain. Off snapped my head around to watch, fully alert. Rachel grabbed her ankle and caressed it a second and tried to stand up, but immediately fell down. Off made me stand, even though I felt the distant pain. Rachel's face was filled with anger. "You ______," she snarled, as she crawled back. "Oh, I really don't think you're at a height to call me that, lovely Rachel. You see to be down and-oh my-I seem to be up. Oh, what could this mean? Hmm…" "No matter how much more strength or power or what ever else you think you've got, I'll never become one of you! NEVER!" And she crawled to her feet, fighting the pain, and started to run off. Off tried to go after her but soon realize how hard it'd be with all the bruises Rachel had given him. So he just stood there and waved after Rachel: "Bye, bye, lovely! Have a nice time being free!" His voice was cheerful. And then he said in an evil voice, "For it won't last. No, no, no. It won't last. We'll hunt you till every little on of you is gone. Oh, yes. Till every one of you vermin are gone." Rachel had already been out of sight. But it didn't matter. She didn't need to hear what Off had said. Maybe she'd still have hope without hearing his last words. Maybe...
Uh...ignore the two "to be continues." I accidentally put them up and can't seem to get them off...oops...
COMING SOON: Part II: Angel, a slightly...uh...weird story...and I mean, weird weird. Or, I think it is...never mind...
To be continued...of course, that is, if you want it to be. If you don't...uh...
To be continued...that is, if you want it to be... I dunno. Maybe this sucks... Oh well. I just wanted to see...