Yes, I have returned! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long. School's started up and I've been utterly overwhelmed and... well... yeah. Please forgive me. I'll try to update more often, but I can't promise anything.
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Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes
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I had been unable to find Logan all morning. Both he and his video equipment were conspicuously absent in the hotel room, so I had gone to the studio alone in hopes that I might find him there. Sadly, I did.
He was camped out, in a way, in the hall lined with dressing rooms. And take a wild guess which dressing room he was smack dab in front of... yeah, you got it. Dominique's. I ran into, or more accurately, stumbled over him in my aimless early-morning wandering of the compound. I had mistaken him for a bundle of... something. He was curled up into a bizarre little ball, wrapped in a blanket and a sleeping bag. I tripped over his outstretched foot and nearly fell over. The nudging was enough to wake him. He stirred, making a few sleepy grunting noises, and the mass of blankets started to undulate into what I could only assume was a sitting position. The sleeping bag slid down over his head and I gaped in confusion and a certain degree of horror to see that it was indeed Logan. He tousled his hair and yawned before opening his eyes and looking up at me.
"Ah, you're finally here," he said with what I interpreted as deranged cheerfulness.
"'Finally?'" I asked, glancing at my watch. "It's only 6:00 AM! How long have you been here?"
"Oh... I dunno. 2:00, 3:00 AM," he replied, as if it were some small affair. I glanced at the door opposite the wall he was slumped against, and couldn't help but wonder.
"Why are you in front of Dominique's room?" I questioned. His face hardened into an empty stare.
"No reason," he said abruptly, after a short pause. His eyes darted up and down the hall, and he suddenly perked up like some kind of hysterical puppy.
"She's here!" he yipped excitedly. "Here she comes!" I looked down the hall and didn't see a thing. I couldn't help but think that Logan was finally giving into madness.
Then Dominique appeared about six inches from my face... again.
I leaped about four feet into the air... backwards... while spinning like a corkscrew. It wasn't so much the fall that hurt as it was the sudden stop at the end, coupled with the nasty rugburn.
"Will you stop doing that?!" I snapped. Dominique only scoffed at me before going into her dressing room.
"Did you see that?!" Logan started babbling. "She smiled! She smiled at me! SHE LIKES ME!" He hopped to his feet and started doing what could only be called an utterly insane dance, hopping around in a circle, still wrapped in his sleeping bag. I stopped him by grabbing him by the ankles and yanking, hard. There was a loud thud and some giddy giggling as he toppled onto his back.
"You are a very strange little man," I told him as I dragged him by his feet down the hall. He wouldn't hear any of it. He just grinned like a nut and went on and on about how much Dominique was obviously in love with him because she flashed a smile at him. I somehow resisted the urge to hurt him. After all, I needed a cameraman.
I performed the customary double knock on E.G. Mine's door, and I heard a bit of rumbling that trailed all the way up to the door. It swung open, and at first I didn't see anything. Then I looked down and saw a large, purple, metallic ball with a guy curled up in it.
"Hello," he said from behind a mask over his mouth. I noticed he had a slight accent. He rolled backwards and hopped onto his feet with exceptional agility.
"What's up?" he asked. For a Gung-Ho Gun, he seemed rather welcoming.
"Uh... hi. We're from General Idiocy Publications, and we'd like to interview you."
"Ah, okay." He curled back up into his armor and rolled over to the table on the other side of the room, sprang back into his upright position, and took a seat. I cautiously followed him.
"Alright, shoot," he offered.
"Ah, yes. Uh... what does that armor thingy do?"
"Well, its armor. It protects most of my upper body, and it shoots big spikes."
"Uh... spikes?"
"Yeah, watch." E.G. tugged on a few shimmering silver wires wrapped around his fingers, and spikes leaped out of his armor, turning him into some kind of human mace. I expected Logan would drop the camera and run for it at that moment, but he seemed to be looking in the other direction, gazing longingly at the wall, probably envisioning Dominique there. It was sad in one way, but hilarious in another. I would have told him to focus, but I figured his blissful ignorance was a blessing. At least he was pointing the camera in the right direction.
"Wow... those are... big spikes," I commented, staring at the chromium instruments of ouch.
"Yeah, and they're sharp, too. Watch this!" E.G. tugged sharply on a wire, and a large spike whizzed past my ear and punctured clear through the wall behind me. It kept going all the way to the wall in the next room. There was a loud twinging noise as a foot-long frankfurter was pinned to the wall by the sharpened projectile. A supremely irritated Legato Bluesummers peered through the cleanly cut, six-inch circular hole in his nice dressing room wall, then glanced at the hot dog, dangling on the opposite wall, then back at the hole. He put his face up to the hole, one saffron eye clearly visible, flickering with anger.
"Private... time!" he barked, his eye zeroing in squarely on a nervously chuckling E.G.
"Sorry boss," he apologized, clutching the back of his neck and sweating a bit. Legato grumbled and turned on his heel, striding to the other side of the room, plucking the skewered weiner out of the stucco and sliding it delicately back into its bun.
"Yeah, okay... moving on," I continued. "I've heard that you and Rai Dei the Blade have a bit of a rivalry going."
"Oh yeah... him," E.G. hissed, his voice falling an octave, into a sinister growl. "He's always trying to cut in on my glory. Legato sends me after a bounty, and HE always shows up, waving that stupid sword around. In fact, he's been after my prized spi... AAAGH!" E.G. howled, pointing at a conspicuously empty plaque mounted over the couch. The small brass panel at the bottom was engraved with the words "Diamond-Tipped Spike."
"He stole it!" E.G. ranted, gesturing wildly in a fit of rage. "That bastard stole my diamond-tipped spike! That's the one I always use the for the really prestigious kills! And he STOLE it! I'll kill him... I'LL KILL HIM!" With that, E.G. balled his body into his armor, bared his spikes, and rolled like a bipolar bowling ball through the door, shredding it and tossing fragments of it against the wall opposite the door with such force that a few splinters became wedged in the plaster. He pivoted and barreled off down the hall, screaming all manner of obscenities.
"Er... wait!" I yelled after him, poking my head through what was left of the door, but all that remained of him was a faint, profane echo. With a sigh, I turned on my heel and walked over to Logan, who, despite the whole thing, was still staring longingly into space, muttering "She loves me... she loves me not... she loves me... she loves me not..." and pressing the nightshot button on and off with each rythymic statement. I would later discover that about a third of the interview was filmed in night vision.
"Alright, snap out of it," I demanded. "I guess that means our next interview is... uh..." I scanned the pages of the clipboard and winced. "Millions Knives."
Sound from the room next door carried through the hole in the wall, and I heard the distinct voice of Legato. "Who's a good hot dog? YOU'RE a good hot dog... yes, that's right. Mmm. And so delicious!"
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Yeah, Knives is next. I'm so sure I'm going to regret this later.
Logan in the background: She loves me, she loves me not. She loves me, she loves me not.
Will you cut that out?! }:-O
____________________________________
Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes
____________________________________
I had been unable to find Logan all morning. Both he and his video equipment were conspicuously absent in the hotel room, so I had gone to the studio alone in hopes that I might find him there. Sadly, I did.
He was camped out, in a way, in the hall lined with dressing rooms. And take a wild guess which dressing room he was smack dab in front of... yeah, you got it. Dominique's. I ran into, or more accurately, stumbled over him in my aimless early-morning wandering of the compound. I had mistaken him for a bundle of... something. He was curled up into a bizarre little ball, wrapped in a blanket and a sleeping bag. I tripped over his outstretched foot and nearly fell over. The nudging was enough to wake him. He stirred, making a few sleepy grunting noises, and the mass of blankets started to undulate into what I could only assume was a sitting position. The sleeping bag slid down over his head and I gaped in confusion and a certain degree of horror to see that it was indeed Logan. He tousled his hair and yawned before opening his eyes and looking up at me.
"Ah, you're finally here," he said with what I interpreted as deranged cheerfulness.
"'Finally?'" I asked, glancing at my watch. "It's only 6:00 AM! How long have you been here?"
"Oh... I dunno. 2:00, 3:00 AM," he replied, as if it were some small affair. I glanced at the door opposite the wall he was slumped against, and couldn't help but wonder.
"Why are you in front of Dominique's room?" I questioned. His face hardened into an empty stare.
"No reason," he said abruptly, after a short pause. His eyes darted up and down the hall, and he suddenly perked up like some kind of hysterical puppy.
"She's here!" he yipped excitedly. "Here she comes!" I looked down the hall and didn't see a thing. I couldn't help but think that Logan was finally giving into madness.
Then Dominique appeared about six inches from my face... again.
I leaped about four feet into the air... backwards... while spinning like a corkscrew. It wasn't so much the fall that hurt as it was the sudden stop at the end, coupled with the nasty rugburn.
"Will you stop doing that?!" I snapped. Dominique only scoffed at me before going into her dressing room.
"Did you see that?!" Logan started babbling. "She smiled! She smiled at me! SHE LIKES ME!" He hopped to his feet and started doing what could only be called an utterly insane dance, hopping around in a circle, still wrapped in his sleeping bag. I stopped him by grabbing him by the ankles and yanking, hard. There was a loud thud and some giddy giggling as he toppled onto his back.
"You are a very strange little man," I told him as I dragged him by his feet down the hall. He wouldn't hear any of it. He just grinned like a nut and went on and on about how much Dominique was obviously in love with him because she flashed a smile at him. I somehow resisted the urge to hurt him. After all, I needed a cameraman.
I performed the customary double knock on E.G. Mine's door, and I heard a bit of rumbling that trailed all the way up to the door. It swung open, and at first I didn't see anything. Then I looked down and saw a large, purple, metallic ball with a guy curled up in it.
"Hello," he said from behind a mask over his mouth. I noticed he had a slight accent. He rolled backwards and hopped onto his feet with exceptional agility.
"What's up?" he asked. For a Gung-Ho Gun, he seemed rather welcoming.
"Uh... hi. We're from General Idiocy Publications, and we'd like to interview you."
"Ah, okay." He curled back up into his armor and rolled over to the table on the other side of the room, sprang back into his upright position, and took a seat. I cautiously followed him.
"Alright, shoot," he offered.
"Ah, yes. Uh... what does that armor thingy do?"
"Well, its armor. It protects most of my upper body, and it shoots big spikes."
"Uh... spikes?"
"Yeah, watch." E.G. tugged on a few shimmering silver wires wrapped around his fingers, and spikes leaped out of his armor, turning him into some kind of human mace. I expected Logan would drop the camera and run for it at that moment, but he seemed to be looking in the other direction, gazing longingly at the wall, probably envisioning Dominique there. It was sad in one way, but hilarious in another. I would have told him to focus, but I figured his blissful ignorance was a blessing. At least he was pointing the camera in the right direction.
"Wow... those are... big spikes," I commented, staring at the chromium instruments of ouch.
"Yeah, and they're sharp, too. Watch this!" E.G. tugged sharply on a wire, and a large spike whizzed past my ear and punctured clear through the wall behind me. It kept going all the way to the wall in the next room. There was a loud twinging noise as a foot-long frankfurter was pinned to the wall by the sharpened projectile. A supremely irritated Legato Bluesummers peered through the cleanly cut, six-inch circular hole in his nice dressing room wall, then glanced at the hot dog, dangling on the opposite wall, then back at the hole. He put his face up to the hole, one saffron eye clearly visible, flickering with anger.
"Private... time!" he barked, his eye zeroing in squarely on a nervously chuckling E.G.
"Sorry boss," he apologized, clutching the back of his neck and sweating a bit. Legato grumbled and turned on his heel, striding to the other side of the room, plucking the skewered weiner out of the stucco and sliding it delicately back into its bun.
"Yeah, okay... moving on," I continued. "I've heard that you and Rai Dei the Blade have a bit of a rivalry going."
"Oh yeah... him," E.G. hissed, his voice falling an octave, into a sinister growl. "He's always trying to cut in on my glory. Legato sends me after a bounty, and HE always shows up, waving that stupid sword around. In fact, he's been after my prized spi... AAAGH!" E.G. howled, pointing at a conspicuously empty plaque mounted over the couch. The small brass panel at the bottom was engraved with the words "Diamond-Tipped Spike."
"He stole it!" E.G. ranted, gesturing wildly in a fit of rage. "That bastard stole my diamond-tipped spike! That's the one I always use the for the really prestigious kills! And he STOLE it! I'll kill him... I'LL KILL HIM!" With that, E.G. balled his body into his armor, bared his spikes, and rolled like a bipolar bowling ball through the door, shredding it and tossing fragments of it against the wall opposite the door with such force that a few splinters became wedged in the plaster. He pivoted and barreled off down the hall, screaming all manner of obscenities.
"Er... wait!" I yelled after him, poking my head through what was left of the door, but all that remained of him was a faint, profane echo. With a sigh, I turned on my heel and walked over to Logan, who, despite the whole thing, was still staring longingly into space, muttering "She loves me... she loves me not... she loves me... she loves me not..." and pressing the nightshot button on and off with each rythymic statement. I would later discover that about a third of the interview was filmed in night vision.
"Alright, snap out of it," I demanded. "I guess that means our next interview is... uh..." I scanned the pages of the clipboard and winced. "Millions Knives."
Sound from the room next door carried through the hole in the wall, and I heard the distinct voice of Legato. "Who's a good hot dog? YOU'RE a good hot dog... yes, that's right. Mmm. And so delicious!"
___________________________________
Yeah, Knives is next. I'm so sure I'm going to regret this later.
Logan in the background: She loves me, she loves me not. She loves me, she loves me not.
Will you cut that out?! }:-O