I know this took so long to arrive, but hey, IT ARRIVED! XD And I thought it would never come... Well, I'm sorry it took so long – it's just that I was torn between two ideas. I wasn't sure whether I should do the 'meeting' in Drew's perspective, or construct the build-up more and write the 'meeting' in May's perspective. If you read this chapter, than you will probably figure out that I chose the second one. So sorry if my story plot seems way out in this chapter!

I would like to give a very special mention to mayeevee for multiple reasons! She's so nice and lovely, always encouraging and inspiring me and is constantly with me no matter the situation. She's absolutely wonderful and an amazing friend and she is simply awesome! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Oh, and, I went to my bestie's house this afternoon, and we were trying to be idiots impersonating animals. However, I forgot my onesie, so she gave me some clothes which were black & white to match the 'Zebra' theme. XD Anyways, then she FORCED me to take selfies of myself in the 'Zebra Clothes' in front of her room mirror. Then, when I arrived home, she sent me her favourite selfies which I took on her phone. I thought of using it as my avatar, since I'm NOT wearing a wig this time. So, if you see my avatar change, don't freak out and say, "AN UGLY BEAST HAS DOMINATED LAUNA'S AVATAR!" because the ugly beast is actually me. XD

Anyways, I side-track far too much! Here is the next chapter!

With Drew, in his room.

What the fuck? Drew told her that her story's dull, and she killed Eislander.

Kersplat, and he's dead on the grass. And separated from his tongue. And where the hell did May get the knife in the teeth from anyhow? Drew didn't write that.

Sure, there was the hallmark Maple stupid, inconsequential reference to tea, and some of the inevitable, tedious sighing, but…

Okay, Drew was stumped. Nothing occurred to him on the walk to school. Nothing occurred to him all morning. Eislander was dead. His carefully wrought, ice-cold killer of a character was tongueless and dead, and he would rather be the same than write the next paragraph if all he got to work with was Elizabeth, sighing and pondering. That was just wrong.

Drew went to put his case Professor Birch at lunch, and he stopped Drew before he could give any details. The professor interrupted with, "Just general terms. I don't want to buy the specifics. So, what's your question?"

"Well…" Drew tried to work out how to put it in a balanced, general way, "What if one person killed another person's character? We wouldn't be allowed to do that, would we? That wouldn't be fair, would it?"

"Tandem, Drew," the professor says, "You might want to analyse the way you're looking at things. It's not your characters and the other person's characters. You're sharing this story. Two great minds working together. Maybe we should talk more about this in class,"

"I'd really rather not,"

"Well then, I think it's up to you, isn't it? To take that vivid imagination of yours. Nettle through and, in the spirit of team-work, offer your partner something great in return. This is all part of the challenge, remember? And great material for the companion essay. Think of it as an opportunity. As far as the story goes, what does it give you? Why did May kill the character? Ask yourself that,"

Drew snickered. Why did May kill his character? Because he drowned 'her' in custard in the previous paragraph using a kitten as proxy, obviously. That's what Drew should say, but he stuck with, "Thanks, professor. That's great,"

"That's no problem, Drew. I'm keenly waiting your response," the professor's eyes seem to jiggle up and down, and Drew thought he stopped just short of a wink. He went back to his lunch.

Drew bit his lip as he returned to lunch. It was May's own custard, so Drew thought that was fair. He wasn't the one who brought custard into it! But it was Drew who decided to start with his character plummeting, and he guessed he should admire May for killing him off with the landing. She never gave Drew a chance to land for Eislander, though, with all that ponderous tea talk. That's all her fault. Drew was totally ready to load Eislander up with more guns and ammo and was ready to cram in more action than he ever did.

They could have done something with those characters if May wasn't such a slow-motion. And 'lame'? 'Lame'? Drew wasn't happy about 'lame'. Drew wanted so much action that there wouldn't even be room for adjectives, but what chance did May give him? Wallpaper had more narrative than most of her paragraphs, and she called Drew's lame.

But killing Eislander, and cutting his tongue out? That was good, and Drew couldn't deny it. It was quite a move. Drew was kind of feeling shitty about the warts and the fish smell, though. He didn't know why the paragraph needed that.

Drew headed towards his best friend, Gary. Gary was dousing three tuckshop sausage rolls in sauce when Drew found him.

"How'd you go with the dobbing?" Gary asked. He had far too much time to reflect on it while Drew was questioning the professor, "Which, by the way, is very cool. It'll certainly stop May from wanting you!"

"She doesn't want me!" It snapped out of Drew like a volley at the net – too fast, "And more importantly, I wasn't dobbing. I was just… Seeking a point of order. That's legitimate,"

"Sure," Gary said smugly, and then he put a sad look on his face and continued with a whiny voice, "Professor Birch, nasty May Maple broke my character. Boo hoo. Can you fix it, professor, and tell her she's bad? Boo hoo,"

"It wasn't like that,"

"No. Of course it wasn't. Boo hoo," Gary took a bite of his sausage roll, and sprayed some greasy flakes of pastry when he laughed. Some of them ended up on Drew's pants. Drew should never have told Gary about his trouble with May.

"It's easy for you. You're paired up with Paul, who has no imagination,"

"Hey, who said Paul had no imagination? We're doing fine," Gary protested.

"You said he had no imagination,"

"Oh, yeah… And then I went and told Professor Birch all about it in my whiny, dobbing voice and… Oh, no, hang on a second. That wasn't me at all. That was someone else. Different issue," Gary snickered, winning back a point on the 'debate'.

Drew picked up one of Gary's sausage rolls and took a bite out of it, "Ass-hole…" Some pastry flakes spray back towards Gary as Drew said it.

"Sure, spit my lunch at me," Gary said, and laughed again, "That'll make you the winner!"

"Well, we'd be even , then, since you're the winner when it comes to the chicks. I assume you'll be scoring again this weekend? Unless you're a bit light on for cash, of course,"

Gary pushed half a sausage roll into his mouth, "Yeah, nice," Gary said, in a muffles kind of way, "Picking up Maple's scraps now. I've got no idea why I'm not constantly banging chicks," he then smirked, and a flake of pastry fell from his lip.

"Sure. We both know you're quite a package,"

The boys started playing handball before Gary had swallowed his last mouthful. Drew worked up serious sweat. On the way to his next class, his short was sticking to him and his socks were slipping in his shoes. Fish? Does he smell like fish? Every day after lunch, after handball, do I turn up at the next lesson lathered with foul, repulsive fishy sweat? May must have got that idea from somewhere.

Okay, cutting the tongue out? Clearly a metaphor for silencing Drew and stopping him from writing his paragraph, Fish smell? Clearly a metaphor for fish smell – Drew, fish smell, real world. Was anyone going to go to the formal with Drew? Anyone other than a fish? Or, at best, a mermaid?

Drew tried to take a subtle sniff at his armpit, though no species could do that.

"Can you smell fish?" Drew found himself asking involuntarily to Gary as they walked into the classroom, "What I mean is, my mum has been using this really weird laundry powder at the moment…"

So, Gary got to laugh again at Drew's expense, "I don't know what's gotten into you today, but please, keep it up. The rest of my life's kind of dull right now. Paul has got no imagination," Gary said.

When Drew arrives home and is greeted by his mum, it's going to be interesting…

"Okay, here's the plan," Gardiena said, "And I don't want you to misunderstand or say anything negative, because he's a really nice guy…"

Drew examined his mum carefully. Her mood had changed. They were riding a giddy upswing – at least that was how it felt. She was speaking quickly and hand-talking. She could take an eye out with the conversation. There's a new man, damnit, a new man already.

"You know how I said the support group went well?" Gardiena asked, urging Drew to back her up.

"A really useful catharsis – was that how you put it?" Drew suggested.

"Well, that too. But there was a new guy…"

Drew knew it. Drew knew the catharsis story was a cover. His mum was far more optimistic after the support group than any catharsis would make her. Drew bet she spent the whole trip home in the car trying to come up with the right word to cover the fact that she was cruising the meeting for a date.

"He seemed really nice," Gardiena said of the freshest piece of wreckage washed ashore, "And we've chatted a couple of times since. He's really down at the moment. Or he was. He's a little bit brighter now, but you know how it is with these things. Lots of ups and downs. You'd like him. I know you would. Which is good because…" There was hesitation. Gardiena's mouth started on a few words, but didn't finish them. Then she blurts out, "Because tomorrow night we – as in the you-and-me type of 'we' – we're going to meet him!"

"I'm sorry? I have to go on dates with them now?" Drew stammered, still rather bewildered.

"Oh, no, no. Not a date. How funny," Gardiena let out some forced laughter, "No, no. It's a support-group thing,"

"So you're all going out somewhere?"

"Oh no, not all, no. This is just a spin-off. He really needs some support and I think he's stuck at home and that does no good, so I thought it would be nice for him to get out. In a definite non-date environment. So we're going to Sizzler. Tomorrow night, with him and his children," Gardiena stuttered, attempting to sturdy her voice.

"Some guy and his kids at Sizzler?" Drew sighed. His mum had done a brilliant job in selecting the non-date environment, "Are you seriously telling me that I've got to go to Sizzler? And hang out with some gloomy guy who is down on his luck?"

"There's an unlimited salad bar with every main. You know how you like bottomless food deals,"

Drew couldn't fight his mum on that. Drew grappled with a Homer Simpson moment, contemplating the bread and butter pudding. There was a thought bubble with s huge, juicy tray of it, right above his head. Drew's stomach churned. He needed dinner now, "I don't have to make friends with those people, do I?"

"Oh, no. It's not like that. It's just about putting something more normal in his life. I think his children are young, anyway. Very young. We're just being supportive,"

"So, this is a good deed. You and I are doing a good deed," Drew said before retreating and agreeing to his mum that he would accompany her to Sizzler.

Drew headed to his room so he could submit his paragraph to May. He stares and stared at May's email, and then stared a bit longer. Then it hit him. May might have killed Eislander, but he's there in her story now. She blinked first. No custard, no capes, no… It's not over yet…

Hey May,

Thanks for the Matthew Reilly comment. I can see you're gearing up for your companion essay. It's quite a tandem, matching the new Matt Reilly with writing vaguely reminiscent of Jane Austen (except substituting tea for ideas, narrative drive, talent, etc.). But welcome to the dark side. I'm glad Eislander is now real to you. Though you may, like many before you, have underestimated him.

Thanks,

Drew

This was surely the greatest disguise of all. Inside the latex death costume, Eislander stirred. Every detail had been worked out, right down to the cow's tongue and the capsule of fake blood he had carried in his mouth. He barely felt the fingers of the ambulance crew on the rubber sheath over his neck and wrists as they searched for a pulse, and soon they were gone. He stood, disengaged his chute, cut himself free if the costume and moved into the shadows. He made his way to the open door unseen. He took the old man out on the steps with the knife and, as the silver tea tray hit the ground and the teapot shattered into a million pieces that could never ever be stuck back together, he rolled an XM84 stun grenade through the doorway. There was a flash, a crack and smoke, and as the smoke cleared he saw him. Heckler. In a flowing dress and an auburn wig, and holding an ivory-handled hairbrush. Heinz 'Hands of Doom' Heckler, gone to ground months before and surfacing on the other side of the world as Elizabeth. Heckler was about to hate Tuesdays big-time. But only very briefly, as he was about to die.

PS – Okay, the Jane Austen remark was mean, but once I typed it; I couldn't resist sending it. Frankly, I've got to admire you for killing Eislander. And the tongue thing was a nice touch. I think we're really onto something here.

Huff…Puff…Although it may seem relatively short, it took AGES to write! XD I don't actually blame myself, though, for making this short. I was getting desperate for ideas! Anyways, as for Sizzler, I need people's advice. Do you guys think that Sizzler is a good choice? Or do you have any better ideas that would enhance the next chapter? If so, please, either mention it in your review or PM me!

Oh, and can you see what Drew has done? I am trying to make it interesting in the tandem-story, but I'm not sure whether it's working. Anyways, please review and I will give you a gummy bear if you do! XD