To my fabulous readers:
Thank you so very much for the reviews. About Jess controlling the weather, I have some plans for that. About the unidentified teachers: haven't you noticed that people tend to make up names of teachers, since the only teacher we have ever heard of is Mr. Max Medina? That's why I made them unidentified. Keep a look out for Mr. Medina in future chapters, as he has an interesting role to play in the coming events. What else...oh yeah. Luke wasn't meant to sound so evil, he was just swayed by jealousy. Don't worry, there are some (hilarious) scenes between him and Lorelai coming up. Lane...well that's hard. I mean, who writes about Lane? Perhaps in the future. I have some ideas, but they aren't fit for public viewing as of the moment. Thanks for the suggestions too, they'll come in handy. Please sue me. Copyright infringements intended. Ditto on offence. Stay tuned!
--authors_anonymous
p.s. No, I'm not Jess, but he laughed hysterically at the suggestion. He also asks for reviews. Go Gilmore Girls! Woo!
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"Now class, I need to assign a project will take several chapters of this story, hours of work, and 75% of your grade. Any suggestions?" asked Mr. Medina (English lit teacher extraordinaire!)
As usual, no hands were raised.
"I'm shocked and dismayed, I really am," he said, thinking for a moment. "Alright, here's what's going to happen. I'll pair you up with someone you would never normally work with in your right mind. Then, together, spending as much time in the same room as humanly possible, you will write 3 couplets each, writing something about you, that no one would ever have possibly known. Then you must make up an interpretive dance about the other person, and in 3000 words, explain why you chose to dance the way you did. You will perform the dance while your partner reads out their couplets to the class. I also want a 30000 word essay about the effects of cows on the environment. And you must each build a human sized life sculpture of your literary hero. Remember class, it must be edible. I also want you to read the shorter oxford English dictionary and write a story using as many of the words as you can. You will be marked accordingly." He looked over at the class critically. "It's due on Monday," he said, and began pairing up people.
Rory gasped. His finger was coming closer and closer, and she knew what was about to happen. She would be willing to stake her life, that Tristan would be her partner.
"Mr. Dugrey...please work with..." his words came agonizingly slow. "...Ms. Gellar!"
Rory gasped. His finger moved on.
The bell rang, and everybody filed out, Paris and thirteen other girls on Tristan's arms (he had multiple arms...he was a deviation.).
"Mr. Medina," started Rory, "I don't have a partner."
"Hmmm?" he asked, looking up, "Oh yes Rory, I know. In the unlikely event that a partner suffers from an unfortunate accident, you will replace them." He placed down his pencil and picked up the worn copy of 'Swans Way'. "No, scat, unless you'd like to stay for my dramatic re-enacting of my favorite book of all time."
Rory left quickly. She was just in time to see Paris, deep in conversation with Tristan. Rory felt a twinge of guilt, but misplaced it as a twinge of hunger. She dug into her back for her portable coffee cup, but found it missing. She started to stomp off, but turned around sharply at the scream behind her. Paris had fallen down the 36 flights of stairs, head first. 'Screw friendship,' thought Rory evilly. 'I get Tristan! Yeah,' she muttered, going to the cafeteria, 'screw friendship."
-------
pun definitely intended
-------
Rory picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Uh, hi. Is Rory there please?"
"Oh, hi Tristan." she said, secretly pleased.
"Uh, this isn't Tristan." said the male voice.
"Oh. Who is this?"
"I mean, do I sound like Tristan?" asked the voice.
"Well, you do have the same type of..."
-------
sorry Readers, but do you honestly care about who the mystery man on the phone is? No, I didn't think so. So just ignore him, and lets go on to later that night when Rory is sitting on the couch in her pajamas, reading a book.
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"Hello?"
"Hi, Rory?"
"Oh, hi Tristan" said Rory, not nearly as pleased the second time.
"So, Mr. Medina told me that since Paris is in the hospital with a fractured skull, we're partners."
"So it seems."
"Yeah. So, we need to start."
"Yes we do."
"So, we have five days."
"I agree."
"Good."
There was silence, and it wasn't nearly as comfortable as the former car silence.
"Tristan?" asked Rory, several minutes later.
"Yes?"
"You know yesterday, when you said you...wanted to be friends...did you mean it?" Rory's heart pounded. She swore he could hear it all the way from Hartford (after all, he did have super sonic hearing...).
"Uh, mean it?" he asked, his voice cracking like a pubescent twelve year olds. "Uh, yeah."
"Okay, good. So, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Don't forget your stuff."
"What?"
"You're going to stay over for the next few days, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah sure, I guess."
"Okay, good. And bring your bathing suit."
"You should bring some stuff over here too."
"Why?" he asked, puzzled.
"You have to meet my mother, and the town."
"Great. So, tomorrow."
"Yup."
The line went dead. Rory hopped off the couch and went into her room to start packing.
"Hey kiddo, where's the flood?" asked Lorelai, walking into Rory's room.
"Right outside." Responded Rory, pointing out the window. Lorelai watched as Babette and Mory floated outside in a rubber boat, paddling with soupspoons.
"Huh."
"So, I'm going to live with Tristan for the next few days."
"So I guess you didn't need me then."
"Guess not."
"Well..." said Lorelai, poking at the door frame, "...I'm still here if you need me..."
"Thanks Mom!" said Rory, and kissed her cheek. "Is any of that coffee left?"
Thank you so very much for the reviews. About Jess controlling the weather, I have some plans for that. About the unidentified teachers: haven't you noticed that people tend to make up names of teachers, since the only teacher we have ever heard of is Mr. Max Medina? That's why I made them unidentified. Keep a look out for Mr. Medina in future chapters, as he has an interesting role to play in the coming events. What else...oh yeah. Luke wasn't meant to sound so evil, he was just swayed by jealousy. Don't worry, there are some (hilarious) scenes between him and Lorelai coming up. Lane...well that's hard. I mean, who writes about Lane? Perhaps in the future. I have some ideas, but they aren't fit for public viewing as of the moment. Thanks for the suggestions too, they'll come in handy. Please sue me. Copyright infringements intended. Ditto on offence. Stay tuned!
--authors_anonymous
p.s. No, I'm not Jess, but he laughed hysterically at the suggestion. He also asks for reviews. Go Gilmore Girls! Woo!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------
"Now class, I need to assign a project will take several chapters of this story, hours of work, and 75% of your grade. Any suggestions?" asked Mr. Medina (English lit teacher extraordinaire!)
As usual, no hands were raised.
"I'm shocked and dismayed, I really am," he said, thinking for a moment. "Alright, here's what's going to happen. I'll pair you up with someone you would never normally work with in your right mind. Then, together, spending as much time in the same room as humanly possible, you will write 3 couplets each, writing something about you, that no one would ever have possibly known. Then you must make up an interpretive dance about the other person, and in 3000 words, explain why you chose to dance the way you did. You will perform the dance while your partner reads out their couplets to the class. I also want a 30000 word essay about the effects of cows on the environment. And you must each build a human sized life sculpture of your literary hero. Remember class, it must be edible. I also want you to read the shorter oxford English dictionary and write a story using as many of the words as you can. You will be marked accordingly." He looked over at the class critically. "It's due on Monday," he said, and began pairing up people.
Rory gasped. His finger was coming closer and closer, and she knew what was about to happen. She would be willing to stake her life, that Tristan would be her partner.
"Mr. Dugrey...please work with..." his words came agonizingly slow. "...Ms. Gellar!"
Rory gasped. His finger moved on.
The bell rang, and everybody filed out, Paris and thirteen other girls on Tristan's arms (he had multiple arms...he was a deviation.).
"Mr. Medina," started Rory, "I don't have a partner."
"Hmmm?" he asked, looking up, "Oh yes Rory, I know. In the unlikely event that a partner suffers from an unfortunate accident, you will replace them." He placed down his pencil and picked up the worn copy of 'Swans Way'. "No, scat, unless you'd like to stay for my dramatic re-enacting of my favorite book of all time."
Rory left quickly. She was just in time to see Paris, deep in conversation with Tristan. Rory felt a twinge of guilt, but misplaced it as a twinge of hunger. She dug into her back for her portable coffee cup, but found it missing. She started to stomp off, but turned around sharply at the scream behind her. Paris had fallen down the 36 flights of stairs, head first. 'Screw friendship,' thought Rory evilly. 'I get Tristan! Yeah,' she muttered, going to the cafeteria, 'screw friendship."
-------
pun definitely intended
-------
Rory picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Uh, hi. Is Rory there please?"
"Oh, hi Tristan." she said, secretly pleased.
"Uh, this isn't Tristan." said the male voice.
"Oh. Who is this?"
"I mean, do I sound like Tristan?" asked the voice.
"Well, you do have the same type of..."
-------
sorry Readers, but do you honestly care about who the mystery man on the phone is? No, I didn't think so. So just ignore him, and lets go on to later that night when Rory is sitting on the couch in her pajamas, reading a book.
-------
"Hello?"
"Hi, Rory?"
"Oh, hi Tristan" said Rory, not nearly as pleased the second time.
"So, Mr. Medina told me that since Paris is in the hospital with a fractured skull, we're partners."
"So it seems."
"Yeah. So, we need to start."
"Yes we do."
"So, we have five days."
"I agree."
"Good."
There was silence, and it wasn't nearly as comfortable as the former car silence.
"Tristan?" asked Rory, several minutes later.
"Yes?"
"You know yesterday, when you said you...wanted to be friends...did you mean it?" Rory's heart pounded. She swore he could hear it all the way from Hartford (after all, he did have super sonic hearing...).
"Uh, mean it?" he asked, his voice cracking like a pubescent twelve year olds. "Uh, yeah."
"Okay, good. So, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Don't forget your stuff."
"What?"
"You're going to stay over for the next few days, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah sure, I guess."
"Okay, good. And bring your bathing suit."
"You should bring some stuff over here too."
"Why?" he asked, puzzled.
"You have to meet my mother, and the town."
"Great. So, tomorrow."
"Yup."
The line went dead. Rory hopped off the couch and went into her room to start packing.
"Hey kiddo, where's the flood?" asked Lorelai, walking into Rory's room.
"Right outside." Responded Rory, pointing out the window. Lorelai watched as Babette and Mory floated outside in a rubber boat, paddling with soupspoons.
"Huh."
"So, I'm going to live with Tristan for the next few days."
"So I guess you didn't need me then."
"Guess not."
"Well..." said Lorelai, poking at the door frame, "...I'm still here if you need me..."
"Thanks Mom!" said Rory, and kissed her cheek. "Is any of that coffee left?"