::The last time we heard from the doomed author, she was being tortured by a fictitious book character and a brand 'spanking' new computer…with buttons and everything! God! You should have seen this thing, I mean, yes Bill Gates is a genius and everything but this thing was. . .wow! I can't even describe the utter coolness of--. Um, anyway getting back to the story. The author was forced to do the tango with her teddy bear. When the fictitious book character, named 'Amy', decided that the author had gotten what she deserved she picked up the spanking new computer threw it out the window. The computer mysteriously disappeared from the garbage the next day. Amy went back to her world and the author never picked up a pen after that horrifying day. But the story doesn't end there . . .::

The author stared at the empty spot on her desk where her brand 'spanking' new computer once sat. She wore a mass of random rags from the bottom of her closet. Her eyelids were baggy and her breath had the stench of death. She had not fully recovered from that fateful day with the freak of nature that was Amy.

Unfortunately, her parents had grounded her for trashing her 'spanking' new computer; and when she had tried to explain that she had not, but Amy, they glanced worriedly at each other and sent her to her room. She no longer cared about her looks. A salsa skirt, a peasant blouse and hours of continuous tango dancing in front of two laughing Edgar Alan Poes can do that to a person. She sighed and slid under the covers on her bed. At least I'll never have to see her again. She thought with a twinge of joy.

A figure burst through her bedroom door and close behind it two others rushed in, breathing deeply.
The author saw who it was and let out a loud sob.
In the middle of her room stood Tasha, Eric, and . . .AMY!

::Scary music plays::
::CD crashes and burns::
"Terry!" an indistinct voice yells, "Stop playing with the stereo!"

There is a meaningful pause.

"What are you three doing here?!" the author says, clutching her blanket.

"Chill out," Amy says, "Look , I'm sorry for what I did, I 'm just so sick of people trying to control my life and I guess you just pushed me over the edge. I'm sorry, I don't know how to say it."

"No Amy, you hurt me. In addition, I- oh what am I talking about. You're not real! GET OUTTA MY ROOM!"

She leaps off her bed.

"Oh, forget this." Amy muttered, recovering from the abuse to her ears. She grabbed the author and spun her toward a red faced Eric.

"You know who he is right?"

She nods.

"Well he is in big trouble 'cause the organization is suddenly hot on his trail, trying to get information about me. They also want him to . . .turn me in. They're everywhere, it's ridiculous! Author, we really need your help 'cause it's getting out of hand. They're even-"

Eric interrupts, "My coach asked me-" his voice creaked and he looked away.

"His coach asked him some pretty personal stuff about me. And when Eric refused to answer he kicked him off the team, right there!" Amy finished.

"It's horrible!" Tasha said, finally catching her breath, "They sent threat notes to our house, Eric's been followed home from school every day this week. Now my parents are starting to wonder why Eric hasn't been eating; and you know how I hate lying to my parents. Not that any of this was okay, but we could handle it, I mean we've seen worse!"

"We weren't even prepared for what happened next."

The author struggled out of Amy's grip.

"You guys sound like a book. Look you freaks, what do you need me for? Just skip to the point." She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Amy a cold stare.

Two little kids burst through the authors bedroom door, the one gripping a can of rubber cement.

"Lusciousness!" the one screamed as they both ran up to Tasha. They pulled the brush in and out of the can in front of her face, smelling it like a couple of feins and urging her to do the same.

"Smell it! It's powerful, it's-"

The author snatches the can away and throws it out in the hall.

"Jed and Herb-" she began.

They give her 'the look'.

"S-Superman and Batman, if you don't get your addict behinds out of this room you're going to wish you would've!"

They run out.

"Sorry, my mom tried to put them on the patch . . ."

There was a meaningless silence.

"Anyway," Amy says, laying a comforting hand on a shaken up Tasha, "Last night, when Eric was walking home from a friends house, he felt like someone was watching him. So he turns around and right there were these two big guys. So he took off, but they caught up to him and, well, just look at his face."

"And . . ."

"And, it's not safe for him there, so we were wondering if he could stay here for awhile."

The author's mouth dropped open, "What about your parents, the . . .uh, what's you guy's last name?"

Tasha rolled her eyes, "Morgan."

"Yeah, the Morgans. Call me old fashioned but I thought parents mind it when their kids don't come home."

"It's all taken care of. But that's besides the point, will you do it?" Amy urged

"No."

"WHAT?!" all three yelled

"N.O. What part of that don't you understand? Ok, first, you turned my computer against me, you torture me into insanity and then you want me to help your boyfriend? Sorry wrong number, I won't. I refuse."

"Can't he stay in your room just till we get this straightened out?" Amy pleaded.

"You want your boyfriend to stay in the room of a girl you hardly know while you go off and save the world?" the author turned to Eric.

"You better be good, 'cause she sure trusts you."

Amy hesitated.

"Chill out Amy. Please Author, we need your help." Tasha begged

The author looked over Eric.

"What do I get out of it?" the author sighed.

They breathed a sigh of relief.

Their dinner was digesting as the author and Eric relaxed outside on the porch. The sun was setting and the wind was just right for the evening. And the- wait, what the HECK am I talking about?

::dramatic soap opera music plays in the background::
What will happen to Tasha and Amy on their mission to avenge Eric??
Will a romance strike up between the author and Eric?? (most likely)
Will the author's brothers ever stop smell the lethal rubber cement??
Should I ever finish this unfocused story?? (That's when you come in, do you want me to?)
Find out all that and more on And the two shall eat.
::music fades slowly away::