Hey! I'm Lucy, and I'm one of the authors of this story. I'm mainly responsible with Caleb and Pogue.
She's really good at it, too.
Thanks, Caleb:)
You're such a suckup, Caleb.
You're just jealous because she doesn't love you as much as she loves me.
That's not —
Oh yeah? Then I wonder why she said the things she said last night?
What did you two do last night?!
Nothing, don't worry, Caleb, it's noth —
Oh, we just had an in-depth conversation . . . in her bedroom.
WHAT?
Caleb, it's nothing like that, I promise.
You were with him in your room?
We had a great time.
Pogue, stop it. Listen Caleb, all we did was discuss the story. I PROMISE. Speaking of which, don't you two want to get on with it?
Oh yeah! I forgot about that part.
So, Lucy, we'll continue our 'discussion' tonight, then?
Shut up and tell the story.
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Prologue
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Caleb and Pogue
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It all started when Reid Garwin made us miss our flight.
Seriously, Caleb, that was the lamest beginning to a story anyone could ever have written.
You shut up. You promised me that I could tell this part, so back off and let me tell it, alright?
Fine, whatever.
Thank you. Anyway, so this whole big, huge mess that we're in right now started because of one boy. He goes by the name of Reid Garwin, though he says that most girls call him 'Sugar Daddy'.
That's totally disgusting, by the way. Reid is a total —
NOT in front of the readers, Pogue! Control yourself! Anyway, even though he's one of our best friends, he tends to annoy us a lot. He's always getting into trouble. He's kind of a bit of a gambler —
A BIT?!
SHUT UP! So yeah, Reid was entertaining some ladies around a slot machine, saying that he could get all sevens three times in a row. Which, of course, he did, because he shamelessly used his power in a way that will probably permanently alter the fabric of space and time —
SOMEBODY'S been watching a bit too much Star Trek.
Well, it's a good show. Are you going to shut up completely so that I can finish telling the story as to why we are where we are?
Why don't I just take over?
But . . But . . . You promised!!
Get over it. Anyway, so here's the thing: we were all supposed to be taking a plane back from England because we'd spent a few weeks there to celebrate Tyler's Ascension. Why in the world he chose England to go to, I have no idea. It's the worst place EVER to vacation.
But Reid, being the complete hot-headed jerk that he always is, decided to do the whole gambling thing to impress some 'foxy ladies' (his words, not mine). And so the three of us — Tyler, Caleb and I — went running like maniacs around the airport trying to find him.
You two ran like maniacs, I ran like a track star athlete!
Caleb, shut up. Seriously. And stop that pouting. It won't get you anywhere. Anyways, so we hear this loud announcement on the speakers, saying that it's time to board our flight. I'm furious right, I just want to get out of this country and go back home. Unfortunately for me however, our little pal Reid decided to go have some very last minute fun without informing us. And I'm angry, really, really angry right? Like steaming!
Pogue, the kids DON'T care about how mad you were. I think they got the point the first time around. Okay, so picture this, all three of us dashing around like mad trying to find our run away buddy. I'm in the pizza parlor searching desperately for Reid when–
Lies! All lies! You ordered a pizza!
Shut up, Pogue, I was still scanning around for Reid while I did so. I was just trying to be nonchalant and classy.
That's it, I'm officially removing Star Trek and James Bond from the list of things you are allowed to watch.
Whatever. So then I hear the second announcement.
"Last call for flight 64B." I look around. I think for a moment. I pull out my ticket, thinking while I did so about how —
Caleb Danvers, you did NOT ask for permission to talk in narrative style!
And go figure, that's us. What's the problem with narrative?
You can't just change the story now!
Okay, okay. Back to the boring crap.
Watch it.
So I dash out of the pizza joint–
Slice in hand, mind you.
And I go to regroup with the others. Nobody's seen Reid. Then finally we spot him, surrounded by a group of hot babes by the slot machines. My leader-like instincts kick in on overdrive, and I can immediately sense that he's up to no good. I inform the others, because they can't pick up on things like this you see, only I can, because I'm the leader.
Well, aren't YOU full of it.
It's not MY fault you're jealous. Anyways, we hurry over to confront him and we're almost then when suddenly . . . (Pogue..your line!)
Oh, right. Ahem. 'Flight 64B now preparing for take off, if you are not on board, please re-book another flight. I repeat, flight 64B is now leaving.'
Wow! You are so good at doing a female announcer impersonation! Right, so, anyways...where was I, uhh...fearless leader and all that.
Caleb this is taking forever! We're already on the fourth page and you've barely managed to cover anything!
Well I WOULD if you weren't constantly interrupting me. And I'd have been even faster if you'd have let me use narrative! God Pogue, where are your manors?
Are you STILL on about that? This is just the prologue, you idiot. You can use as much narrative as you want in the next chapter.
Really? Do you promise?
I . . . Uh . . . . Well . . . That's not really my place.
Ha. Some friend.
ANYWAY, so we stand there at the window and watch in total shock as our plane, our last connection to Ipswitch, flies away and leaves us stranded.
And THEN, to make matters worse, Reid comes strolling over and asks why we're just standing there. Tyler just points out the window at the plane flying away, and Reid shrugs and says we shouldn't have been so slow.
I wanted to kill him. I was sorely tempted to just grab him around the neck and throttle him 'til he was dead. Little did I know that soon, I wouldn't be the only one who wanted to do that.
Pfft. Leave it to you to go all cryptic and metaphorical.
That's called foreshadowing, dude.
Whatever. Let's just leave the next bit up to Reid and Tyler.
Think they'll do as well as we did?
No way, man!
We're fricken awesome.
Let's get a beer.
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So, there you have it, folks! The very-well-written and PERFECTLY understandable introduction to the horrifying situation that the poor Sons have landed themselves in.
I think I sense just a little bit of sarcasm in there.
No shit, Sherlock.
Dude, we may be in England, but that doesn't mean that the supreme leader has to be called Sherlock. But I do appreciate the gesture.
You little —
Well, that's all for now! I'm going to run away while my love-children battle it out over Sherlock. 'Til next time!
