Hello again! Happy Thanksgiving! I hope November has treated you all fairly. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter—this is really exciting, writing a multi-chapter fic! This chapter definitely isn't the best, but trust me—they'll get better. Now, I'm off to go have some turkey dinner. Without further ado, Chapter Two. (Heh, it rhymes)

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Ben

Of course, the first thing Ben's mind did was exactly what he didn't want it to do: pull a blank. After his conversation with Riley, he'd headed straight to his computer, swiped off a thin layer of dust, and booted it up. After opening up a blank word document, he sat back and gazed at the blinking cursor, and the situation he'd landed himself in became as clear as that treasure map Abigail had given was he supposed to start? How was he supposed to end? How the heck was he supposed to beat Riley at this? Groaning, he rubbed his already-weary eyes.

Riley

Fingers? Cramped, but not too bad. Eyes? Tired, but not closed yet. Mind? Still functional. Riley didn't even stop his writing to go over this checklist in his mind. As long as all of the vital limbs were still attached and his heart was still beating, he was fine, as far as he was concerned. No way was he going to let Ben beat him at this. No way was he going to sit through that stupid documentary. Why had he even bought it for Ben?Because Ben hadbought him the Star Wars collection, that's why. And now Ben didn't even want to sit through that with him.

Aren't we such thoughtful friends? Riley mused wryly, pausing only for a moment.

He turned back to his screen, gazing fondly at the half-page he had written since Ben had retired upstairs. If only Ben had let him use the other pages he'd written. Oh well, no matter. Head start or no, Riley knew he'd win. Assuming Ben was as slow as he looked.

Ben

What was this supposed to be called? The first week slump? No, there was no such thing as a first week slump. That was in the second week. Right?

Then what was he having?

One sentence. Only one sentence glared at him from the screen, and it could hardly even be called a proper sentence. More like a few lousy words strung together. It was only the second day, but that added up. He'd written only seven words so far. He was 1660 words behind.

Ben leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. He'd give up now, if not for the punishments that would await him later. Mainly Riley. That kid was a punishment in himself. And then there was the Star Wars marathon. Even if he had to type the same sentence—the same word, even—50,000 times, he would do but the six movie, twelve hour marathon.

Suddenly, an idea flared to life in Ben's brain. Why not just type the same sentence 50,000 times? He had a sentence already; all he'd have to do would be to copy and paste, over and over again. Seven words...he'd have to re-use the sentence a total of 7142.85 times. Ben hesitated for only a moment.

He highlighted the string of words, found the button on thetoolbar that said "Copy," then visited the toolbar again and clicked "Paste." Now he had a total of fourteen words. Well, it was more than he had hadbefore, and it only took a few seconds to locate the "Paste" option on the toolbar. It was worth it. Much less work than sitting through a Star Wars marathon.

Riley

Things were going well. Two pages and counting.

Ben

An hour later, Ben's word count had reached an ultimate high—630. His eyes were hurting and his hand was sore from clicking, but he reasoned that these were the kind of pains that one had to take to achieve AugNoWriMo. Sure, most people would have touched the keyboard at least once to earn their word count, but he wasn't like most people. He was a treasure hunter, not a creative writer.

"What are you doing?"

Ben nearly fell sideways out of his chair at the sound of Riley's voice. He fumbled with the computer for a moment before he was able to slam it closed. He spun around in his swivel chair, just managing to catch Riley's wince. Yeah, yeah. That probably wasn't the right way to treat a computer.

"Writing!" The reply came out a little too hasty. "Nothing! What are you doing?"

Riley looked at him as if he'd just sprouted feelers."Writing? I haven't heard your keyboard."

"I haven't...heard your keyboard either," Ben said. Why was he so out of breath?

"That's because I've been standing outside the door for fifteen minutes," Riley replied.

Ben felt like reaching for his head, just to be sure that feelers really weren't up there.

Did he really look that odd to Riley?

"Well..." Ben cleared his throat, trying to assume the matter-of-fact pose that so often impressed Riley. "You see, I have been...practicing my light touch."

Riley looked dubious. "Do you really want me to crack a 'That's-what-she-said' joke right now?" Ben had no idea what he was talking about, but Riley continued before he could ask. "I know you haven't been writing."

Words were forming on Ben's lips when Riley reached over his shoulder, flipped his laptop open, and pushed his glasses higher on his nose. His face deepened into a frown as he took in Ben's word document.

"I don't know if I should be angry or scared," Riley said. "Have you been clicking on the toolbar every time you want to paste in the sentence?"

"Yeah," Ben replied indignantly.

Riley compressed his lips into a sad smile. "I don't know how I should tell you this, Ben, but..." Reaching over to the laptop, Riley pressed two keys—the Apple and the V. The sentence appeared again. "Ever heard of keyboard shortcuts?"

Ben was still gaping when Riley backed out of the room. "And you can't use any of those copied sentences in your word count, either!" the techie added over his shoulder.

And now, the sneak peak: the next chapter will finally involve coffee.

Oh yeah, and I keep forgetting to mention: I have a poll on my user page, so it would be cool to hear your opinions. It's about what kind of story I'll write next.