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"I've Never Written a 'Drinking Game' Fic..."
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DISCLAIMER FOR THE OPENING: Asia is MINE. I got him for my eighth birthday. Amanda is my little sister's, and I'm sure she'll be pissed if you copy her dog. Common decency will tell you this is NOT for copying. You steal this, you get SUED. You got me? YOU WILL BE SUED!! NO ONE IS SAFE!!

I HAVE RICH GRANDPARENTS!!

So anyway, guess what?! It's summer!! MUAHAHAHAHA!! Finally, some free time! And that means... NEW FANFICTION!! No, wait... it means being a responsible author and working on the fanfiction that's already in circulation... eheh... ^_^;;

I wrote a little opening to this fic, because I was really, really bored, and the next chapter is the real thing. This opening has no effect on the actual story whatsoever, so it is safe to skip. But it's amusing, so I suggest going ahead and reading it anyway.

Remember to review what you read! Because if you don't review, how do I know I'm being read, and how can I prevent myself from falling into a fanfic depression stupor? ^_^;;

Enjoy!


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A battered young woman lay across the desk, broken.

She wore nothing but black, dragon-ball-speckled shorts and an orange workout bra, her shirt long since ripped to shreds in a crazed fury. Hair matching her own dark chestnut color lay strewn about her in clumps, as if it had been ripped from her scalp and violently tossed aside. Her forehead, now pressed against the gentle cold of her wooden desk, was swollen and blue, like someone had beaten it repeatedly against some hard surface in the same place... beside her, the nearby plaster wall had a gaping, sunken hole, as if someone had slammed a heavy, blunt object into it over and over again. Her eyes, once glittering with exuberance in all their hazel glory, now barely remained open, dark rims framing them to complete their weakened state. Her back was arched over in defeat, and her limbs were limp and dragging on the dirty-chalk carpet.

The calm white glowing of her laptop screen was the only light in the otherwise black room. Her shadow, pristine from the concentrated light, adorned the opposite wall and kept the only witness, a crotchety old chinchilla named Asia, shaded in the black of the night.

Suddenly the shade moved, and from his cage he saw the shadow arch up and fling its attention to the sky, both hands clutching its head in agony. It's mouth opened and Asia groaned inwardly, and he prepared himself for the ridiculous amount of noise that was sure to come.

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMOOOORRRE!!!"

His ears rang, drowning out any more noise for quite some time, though he could see her thrashing about as if a ferret had crawled up her... well, a ferret couldn't fit into her clothes. Young humans these days should dress more conservatively. Then they'd be able to write about how they moved as if a crazy, horny ferret had crawled into their trousers.

After all, it was this sort of thing that was causing the mess, wasn't it? Not being able to describe things?

He sighed as his 135-year-old ears (eight and something years in the silly human system) finally cleared of their ringing. And as he finally picked up some of the words in the hurricane of gibberish coming out of her mouth, he confirmed his hunch.

Writers' Block again. And from the names mentioned, it was Outlaw Star she was having trouble with.

"I mean, this is INSANE!! How am I supposed to make this flow from HERE?! If Mel has to do this NOW, then how can THIS happen later?!"

He sighed again. He knew the story of this one; it had caused her more trouble than any of the other recent stories. And, as usual, he knew exactly what to do... all she had to do was (insert shameless self-spoiler here), and it would leave her audience moved beyond words. But of course he couldn't tell her. First of all, the girl was caught up in too much emotion at the moment to listen to anything. Secondly, he COULDN'T. He was a CHINCHILLA, and rodents couldn't speak human language. Understand it sure, but speak it? At times like this he wished he could...he felt sorry for her when she was like this... annoyed, sure, but underneath all that grumpy old rodent exterior, he felt for his silly human. He'd tell the girl's muses, and they could relay it, but still, if he could talk, he could tell her as soon as she had calmed down.

It was all Amanda's fault.

He was sure of it... whatever the problem, that dog was the cause. He ran out of pellets? Amanda was taking up attention. He didn't get as many treats? Amanda again. His human has Writer's Block? That's Amanda too, somehow, some way. That little bitch had been trouble from the day she came into his territory as the little white puffball of terror she was. And worst of all, she liked him. If there was one thing he hated, it was that cheerful smile of hers whenever she laid eyes on him. She was always, ALWAYS smiling. Damn that cheerful dog!

Suddenly, there was a spell of silence, and he looked over to her again. She seemed to be in deep thought, but soon, her bloodshot eyes shot open and she grinned THAT GRIN of hers.

"I'm gonna write a DIFFERENT one."

Uh oh. She hadn't said "IN a different one," she had said "A different one." That meant something completely new.

That's just great. One more fic to torture herself with...

"...An' it's gonna be a COMEDY!!"

He paused in his thoughts, blinked, and sighed, shaking his head. Oh well. At least she wouldn't beat herself up quite as much...

And hell, it gave him some peace and quiet for now.

He shuffled his feet and settled back down for sleep in his running-wheel as her shadow blocked the light again. He closed his eyes and, with the rhythmic clicking sound of the keys soothing him, slowly drifted off to sleep.

**Good luck, kid.**

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...okay, so it was COMPLETELY an inside joke... in fact, that wasn't funny at all unless you know my pets... uh... never mind, just... just ignore me. ^_^;;

Write and run!