(Well, I'm back from camp! It was nice to have a little break from fanfiction, but I'm glad to be writing again. It was at a college, and we kept trying to hook our counselor up with all the guys there. Anyhoo, first the responses to the reviewers...
Christopher Mason- The Angry Mob is glad to know that you want to get the guy in seat twelve too. (Oh, and the guy in seat thirteen is a mime, so he just might be next on the list.)
Time Travelling Echidna- Well, if you spell your name wrong and I misspelled it by spelling it right, but its your name and you spell it the way you want to. I'm just spelling it the way my spellchecker told me to, but I think I spelled it right this time.
Sapphire dragon0000017-Yeah, I think I could've done better too. That's why I put the little note at the end of the chapter. The Angry Mob is now going to go take their anger out on the guy in seat twelve. (And maybe they'll get that mime too.)
It's story time! (Everybody sits Indian-style around the computer.)
"Aw, man! Clem's getting away again!" groaned Spyro. They watched as Clem ran out the door. "Maybe it would help if we were to actually run after him instead of walking." suggested Sheila.
"Well I'm angry!" said Spyro, stamping his feet. Hunter made a fist. "Well, I'm angry too!"
"I'm angry!"
"I'm angry!"
"We're all angry!" shouted the Angry Mob. "Well DUH! You're supposed to be angry! You're an angry mob for cryin' out loud!" shouted the guy in seat twelve. The Angry Mob glared at him. "Let's get him!" shouted Spyro. They jumped on the guy in seat twelve and started beating the tar out of him. The mime in seat thirteen mimed the whole event.
"AAAA!" screamed the guy in seat twelve. "Um...Um...I've got a splinter!"
=For full enjoyment of the next section, imagine that the guy in seat twelve is someone you really don't like=
The Angry Mob gasped and the operating room was back. "A splinter!?!?"
"Heh, heh. Suckers." muttered the guy in seat twelve.
The Angry Mob was wearing doctor and nurse outfits. "First, we must do a physical." said Bianca. "Bentley?"
Bentley walked up. "Reflexes!" he yelled and hit the guy in seat twelve's knee with his club. The guy in seat twelve went all bug eyed and yelped in pain. Bentley wrote something on a clipboard. "Reflexes are fine. Now, temperature!"
Bentley stuck the thermometer in the guy's mouth. "Hmm...it's too cold." he muttered. He then stuffed jalapeños down the guy's throat. "Too hot now..." he made the guy sit on a block of ice. "Just right! Now for your blood pressure!" Bentley said as he wrapped the blood pressure thing around the guy's neck. "Um, shouldn't this be around my arm?" he asked.
"Quiet!"
Bentley pumped the thing up to full capacity while the guy in seat twelve turned blue. "Looks good..." muttered Bentley as he wrote something down and undid the thing.
Spyro made the guy lie down.
"CLEAR!"
BBZZZTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Hey, what does all this have to do with getting a splinter out of me?" asked the guy in seat twelve. Spyro got real close to him and made a fist. "Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?" he demanded. "Cause if you are..."
"EEK!"
"Hey! He's trying to tell us how to do our job!" Spyro yelled to everyone else, who glared at the guy. "Um, no I'm not?" he asked.
"Let's take our anger out on him in a violent and humorous way!!!" yelled Agent 9. They all pulled out their pitchforks and torches. "GET HIM!!!"
They chased the guy in seat twelve until they caught up with him. Then, they tarred and feathered him, stuffed him with candy, and knocked it out of him. They tied him up, painted him yellow, and put makeup on him. Then, they threw him off a cliff and beat the tar off of him. Next, they put on some cleats and did a little trampling and a tap dance number. They set his pants on fire, set rabid attack chipmunks on him, and forced him to listen to bagpipe solos.
Then they did the unspeakable.
(To find out what unspeakable thing they did, scroll down.)
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(Note, this is not for the faint of heart to read. If you have a history of heart or lung problems, do not read about what they did.)
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(Note, this material will not be suitable for children twelve and under. All children twelve and under may want to leave the room like RIGHT NOW, or get off the internet, or go read another story.)
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(Turn back now!!!)
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(All right! If you really wanna know, then I'll tell you. But please remember that I tried to warn you, and by reading the next part you relieve me of all liability if you discover that it's worse then you imagined!)
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. THEY GAVE HIM A TIME- OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!" screamed the guy in seat twelve as he sat in the corner.
"Hey! You're in time out mister! Stare at that wall and THINK about what you did, and no screaming in despair!" snapped Elora.
"Look at the time!" said Hunter. "We've got to hurry and catch that Clem!"
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Well, I'm sorry to say this, but there will be no more voting. But before you turn the Angry Mob on me, listen to this!Anyone who can answer the following question correctly gets a free picture of Clem!
The question:
What does SPAM stand for?
A: Send Pizza At Midnight
B: Stuff Posing As Meat
C: Stupid People Attacking Mensa
D: Some Possums Amaze Me
Remember, answer this question correctly and you'll receive a free picture of Clem! (I'll give you a hint: it's not D)