Me: Posting time! -goes to pull out notebook- -doesn't find it- Hey!!

Fang: -laughs- You're notebook is entertaining...

Me: You stole my notebook!

Fang: Well, yeah, I get bored, too. And I like reading your 'notes to self'.

Me: Why?

Fang: Why did you write 'Google Cambodian Fertility Dances' in your notebook?

Me: Why do you think?

Fang: Uhhhh.....

Me: I'm kidding. It's for our play. Long story. Right now, I have chapters to post and free time!

Fang: What does a Cambodian Fertility Dance look like?

Me: Why? You want to learn one?

Fang: No! I'm just curious!

Me: Well, first, you need a couple coconuts....


Fang's POV

Do you ever get that sinking feeling that something bad is going to happen?

Dr. Martinez had come into my room this morning, woke me up, and told me we were 'going for a ride' today. Like that wasn't creepy enough, when I went into the kitchen for breakfast, everyone (besides Iggy and Ella, who weren't there) looked at me, then quickly looked away. And when they went back to their conversation, it was more reserved, like they were...hiding something.

I was beginning to wonder if something was wrong. I pondered the possibilities as we went for our 'ride'. Was someone dying? Was I dying? They'd tell me if I was dying, right? Or maybe they're just driving me out to the country to put me out of my misery. I wondered what I was dying of. AIDS? Yeah, Iggy gave me AIDS, which is how he got pregnant with Justin. But I don't remember that! Oh, he probably drugged me or something.

I shook my head. What am I thinking? I blamed my lack of sleep again. Maybe I need to start going to bed earlier.

That's when we pulled into our destination:

A hospital.

Oh, they couldn't just bring me out in the woods and shoot me. They were putting me to sleep.

"Fang, are you ok?" Nudge asked.

"No, I'm not ok. I want to know what this little joyride is all about!"

Dr. Martinez sighed, pulling into a parking space. "Fang, with Iggy having chickenpox, I thought it might be a good idea for you all to get the chickenpox vaccine."

I stared.

"You know, a shot."

I rolled my eyes. I know what a vaccine is, I just want to know why you put me through this little charade. 'Going for a ride'. Jeez. I thought, well.......nevermind what I thought."

Now everyone was looking at me. "Well, Fang," Dr. Martinez said, "Everyone gave me the impression that you were a bit...well..."

"What?"

"....Needlephobic."

"Needlephobic? You'd think, being a doctor, you could use the actual word, Aichmophobia."

"I'm a veterinarian."

"Sure, use excuses..."

"Very funny, Fang. So, are you going to be ok with this?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?" Max asked.

"Sure I'm sure. Now, let's cut the questioning and get going, huh?" I said, opening the van door.

I thought about the whole deal in the waiting room. Needlephobic? Me? Oh, come on! Maybe a bit.......Cage-phobic? Claustraphobic? But not needlephobic. Ok, sure, there was that little incident when I was 6, but that was years ago. I'm over it. Gosh, these guys just can't forget some stupid little fear I had as a kid! Needles? Shots? No problem. Sure, they were pointy, sharp. They injected foreign liquids into your body. They were big. Long. Penetrated your skin. Hurt. And then the sick freak of a whitecoat would laugh evilly and stab you with it a couple more times. And-

"Martinez?" A nurse said. "You can all go in to see the doctor now."

Suddenly, I felt sick.


They filed us into a room, where one of Satan's Spawn, a whitecoat, was standing there, smiling. Sick freak.

There weren't enough seats for all of us to sit, so we let Dr. M, Angel, and Nudge sit, while Max, Gazzy, and I stood.

"So," said our friendly, neighborhood, bitch from hell whitcoat, "Who wants to go first?" She was still smiling. She sickened me.

Max walked over. Poor, brave Max. I could almost hear taps playing in the background. "Alright, let's get this over with." She held out her arm. "Hit me with your best shot, Doc."

The doctor had Max sit down on that stupid, paper-lined table they have. Then, she turned toward the counter and grabbed the ultimate torture device.

The needle.

She wiped something on Max's arm, then......BAM!

Why did I watch that?

She put a dinky little band-aid on Max's arm and sent her back to stand with us.

"Who's next?" She said, like a cheery fairy from hell.

I made sure I knew where the nearest trash can was. I was beginning to feel seriously sick.

Nudge was the next brave warrior. I had told myself not to watch, but it was like a car wreck. I had to look.

Gazzy went after. He looked like he was holding back tears, the brave little guy.

I wiped the sweat off of my forehead.

Angel, little Angel went up, clinging to Celeste. Max went with her.

When I heard her give a little cry, my head started to swim.

Max escorted her back to her chair and knelt down next to her.

"Last, but not least." the doctor said, in that annoyingly cheerful voice.

It took a second for it to sink in that it was me she was talking about.

"Come on up and take a seat." said Satan's Spawn, patting a place on the table.

I took a deep breath and took two steps toward her. One....Two....


"Fang?"

I blinked a couple of times, trying to get my eyes to focus. "Huh? Max?"

"Oh, Fang." She was stroking my hair back. I, meanwhile, was lying on a floor. A cold, hard floor.

"Where am I?"

"Oh, is he awake?" I heard an unfamiliar voice say. "The poor thing."

Suddenly, a face came into view. The face of Satan's Spawn. The whole ordeal came rushing back to me.

"Hey! What happened? Did she hit me?" I started pulling myself up.

I got into a sitting position, but Max stopped me from actually getting up. "No, Fang, you fainted."

I stared at her. "No I didn't."

"Uhhh, yeah, Fang, you did."

"Guys don't faint."

Max sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine, then. You passed out, became unconcious, went into a tempoary comatose state. Whatever. Are you ok now?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

I heard Dr. Martinez give a short laugh. "Fang, I thought you said you were over your needlephobia!"

"Hey, I am! Maybe I'm just.......dehydrated."

Max let out an exasperated groan.

That's when Miss Whitecoat from Hades came back over. "Maybe we should just get this over with, shall we?" She lifted her hand.

It was holding the needle.

Max looked at me. "Well, Fang?"

"Ummmm.....well......"

"Fang, you're over your needlephobia, remember?"

"It'll just take a quick second, dear." The Doctor said in that cheerily sick way of hers. She came toward me with the needle.

My head started swimming again. "Max, get her away from me..."

"Fang..."

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Oh."


A little while later, we were all in the crowded van, happily vaccinated against the evils of chickenpox.

Well, except for me. I was curled up in a corner of the farthest back seat, still feeling slightly sick and nursing my bruised and mangled pride.

Plus, I didn't get the damn shot.

"You know, Fang, it's ok."

"Leave me alone."

"We don't blame you."

"Just drop it."

"I didn't think you fainted. You actually kind of just crumpled up on the floor. That's different."

"Oh, thanks, Gazzy."

"Fang, we still love you."

"I wish you'd just taken me out to the country and shot me."

"What?!"

"Nevermind."


Me: Yes, I had to go and look up the actual word for needlephobia. Actually, there's a couple different words, but I picked that one. Anyway, Fang? Comments?

Fang: I am not that pathetic.

Me: You sure?

Fang: Sure I'm sure.

Me: -pulls out needle- Sure???

Fang: Put that down!

Me: Fang...needle...

Fang: Hey, careful, you could stab yourself with that!

Me: -throws needle backwards- AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -jumps into Fang's arms- Scary needle.....

Fang: -sighs- Yes, scary needle......

R&R? And, could somebody get rid of the scary needle?