Oh man... Well, it's been a while since I updated anything, and I apologize still to those who are waiting, but you might have to wait until December, as November is NaNoWriMo... So, anyway, before that gets started up, I had this... idea. Enjoy it while it lasts.

I don't own Jak and Daxter.

Read on!


Ah, that familiar smell as I walk out of the underground hole that I'm holed up in for reasons that I don't even know for hours upon hours, slaving over a map and coming up with plans that I don't even know how they got there because all I ever do over that map is point at random parts and shake my head.

But, as I was saying, I love that smell. It smells dirty first, actually, but once I REALLY get out there and start kicking some Krimzon ass, THEN, then that's when I love the smell.

It's... metallic. New. Replaced so many times with all its new-ness because Jak can't seem to control his anger-issues. And then, it's all around me because all the guards are wearing it, and they're trying to beat the living crap outta me while I shoot them about six times through the chest. The smell of bullets and guns. It's awesome, because it's actually pretty much one of the only smells that you can smell in the city.

And them they send the Krimzon-bots after me - and really, could they not think of anything better to call them? Anyway, they're awesome-r because... well, they're robots for precursors sake! If I could (and if the Shadow would let me) I would just hug them, just take in that smell! Like some freak-ish drug...

But then my high is over. I've finished the mission. It's Jak's turn to do about sixty eight missions in a row before any of the other guys get to do anything other than slave over a map for hours upon hours and coming up with plans that we don't even know how they got there because all we do over that map is point at random parts and shake our heads. Why else do you think I'm so mean? All I ever smell there is dirt and smoke. It's practically etched into my mind, taking up space in my memory that could be remembering 50,000 other, more appetizing smells. But alas, the cycle will begin anew at some point... And when I walk out of the underground hole that I've been holed up in for reasons that I don't even know, I could almost SING!

Ah, I love the smell of metal in the morning!