A.N I am in the complete process of re-writing this in paragraph style, since I have already been suspended three times. Don't want to be suspended anymore. Hehehe..

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"Alanna lived at the small fief Trebond with her evil stepparent, Myles, and her evil stepsisters, Thom and Delia," said the author, in a story-telling fashion.

"Hey!" Myles called. "I am not evil!"

"I'm not evil either! Nor am I a girl!" said Thom, a indignant look upon his face.

"Delia?" asked the almight author. "Do you have any comments such as why you don't like how this story is going?"

Delia was wise. She kept her mouth shut. "No comment"

"Good," said the author, nodding. "Moving right along, Alanna had lived the first years of her life with her father. Lord Alan saw
that his daughter would need a mother's care, so, he remarried. His wife, Myles of Olau, was kind---"

"I am not gay!" Myles cried out.

A horrified look crossed Delia's face. "Mother! You're gay!?"

"I am not! It's the writer's fault! Kill her!" shrieked Myles.

"Hey!" the author called, looking upset. "If you kill me, then there's no story. No story, no money."

"She has a point, you know . . . . ." said Thom, trailing off.

"If I may continue?" the writer asked. "When her father died, the stepmother became evil and she forced Alanna to become a servant in her own home. Even through everything she had been through, Alanna continued to be ever
sweet and caring. . . . ."

"You gods-cursed laundry!" Alanna shrieked, throwing a sheet at the house. "Work, damn you!" She looked up. "Uhhh, I mean, I love laundry." Alanna placed a fake smile upon her face.

"That's better. Alanna, I believe you are needed upstairs."

" Oh, right . . . . . . ." Alanna grabbed the breakfast trays and headed into Delia's bedroom.

"Alannaella! Where are you?!?!?"

"I'm here!! Curse you, Delia! You know, I have way better things to do that be your slave for the rest of my life! I mean . . . . Yes, stepsister." Alanna quickly glances at the writer, who is smiling and nodding.

"Thank you, dearie," Delia said in a sweet voice. Then, her sweet smile turned to that of pure evilness. "Now! TAKE MY CLOTHES AND GET THEM WASHED! YOU UNDERSTAND? NO GRITTY SOAP, YOU HEAR ME?"

Alanne leaned over the writer and whispered, "Can I just slap her once or challenge her to a duel? Please? Pretty please
with sugar on top?" She turned back to Delia and said sarcastically, "Yes, stepsister," and grabbed the basket full of laundry. She walked out the door, hoping for better luck in Thom's room.