Just something really short I'm writing for multiple reasons, none of which being avoiding work and other productive stuff.
I know theres a chapter where D tries to use a computer, but I forget if he used email or not.
No dialog, so quotes are used around emails.
I don't own Petshop of Horrors. Luckily.
D's fingers tapped idly along the keys of his rarely used computer.
After moving his shop to the China Town in New York, temporarily, he had been bored. While wandering around the shop, he had found a scrap of paper with some sort of messily scrawled address labeled "email." Now even with the Count's limited experience in electronics, he could recognize that this "email address" was something he was supposed to put in his computer. He tried to do so, buy clicking the helpful tab labeled "email." There was a bunch of instructions, which D read meticulously, coming from his experiences with instructions. Finally, after a few cookies, and much, much help from Mellow- the electronic fish, D managed to send an "email" to the mystery address.
The message he sent read, "Hello. I am beginning to use this device called an email. I found this address, and would like to know who it belongs to."
D was quite proud of the message. It was precise and to the point, yet not offending.
Minutes later, a reply came. The sharp sound the computer made alarmed D at first, but even more surprising was the actual content of the message.
"Wat. Who is this. Srsly, who names themselves 'DirectDigitalDanger'?!" read the reply.
D huffed in annoyance. He'd thought it was quite a clever name. Everything started with 'D.'
"You have no right to complain, 'Leatherrabbit675.' Why in the world would you want a leather rabbit?! You'd be killing a cow, and insulting every rabbit in existence! One dead cow is horrible, but 675?! That's inexcusable!" was D's ingenious response.
The reply came more quickly this time. "Whoa. Chill, dude. Its just a name. I came up with in 7th grade or something. Anyway, who are you and how do you have my email."
D thought a bit before answering, "If you must know, I found your email written down. But I asked who you were first so it's only right that you tell me. Not that anyone with a name like Leatherrabbit675 would care for courtesy, or anything."
Somehow, the last reply managed to irk D even more than all the ones before. "...D?! Is this u? Where the heck did u disappear to?"
D rested the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Of course. He'd managed to contact the single most stupid American the world has ever seen. Not to mention the one American he been trying to severe all ties with at all costs.
This was going to take a lot of explaining
And tea.
And no France.
How is it that I can write this in one sitting, but I can't write my other story?! If I have time for this, I should have time to write another chapter...
Well, technically I don't have time to write this. It's all Babyfruitstyles fault! And boredom. And France. And Marik.