OMG, it's time for the first...

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(implodes)

Lady Lyndis-I are teh funney.

Dracobolt-OMG!!! I have my own fangirl! T3h w00t. Thankies for the review!

Stewie's Minion-Rawr?

Koriku-It's always nice to be appreciated.

Chapter 2-Far from perfect

It was a wonderful dream...

The man spun the blade in the air, catching it easily. Rebecca looked on in awe and wonder, with sheer admiration in there as well. As the blade spun up in the air, the sun gleamed off the blade beautifully.

"My word...how did you get such a big sword?" she asked.

"It's naturally big," the man replied, smirking.

"Ca-can I touch it?" Rebecca asked another question. The man didn't mind the questions. Not at-

GOD DAMMIT, JAAAAAAAAAIL!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIT!!! And corny jokes.

Can you guess who it is, yet?

Kyle woke with a start, screaming "JAILBAIT!!!" at the top of his lungs, frightening some of the birds away. God dammit, Kyle...get a grip on yourself. I mean, she's not even legal yet...

He pushed himself up wearily, and looked around at his surroundings. It was still misty, and still cold. Still dreadful. The person who'd named it The Dread Isle was probably freezing to death. The mountains were looming ominously in the distance, greyish silhouettes against the err...grey-er-ish sky, with the sun poking through only slightly, the rest of the sun being swallowed up by the fog.

At this point, he heard footsteps, and his hands swept towards his belt, where the least magical sword in the world, Kyle's Iron sword, was. Once the most powerful sword ever, a freak lightning strike had drained it of its supernatural power, leaving it with about as much magic strength as Renault. (Burrrrn! – Author's Note)

However, he relaxed when it was discovered that it was just Canas returning with Rebecca and a load of bad news. "No sign of the group," Canas said with an over-dramatic sigh. Kyle nodded-it was the answer he was expecting.

"Well, we'll have to find our own way off the island..." the words rolled off his tongue as though it was as easy to complete as cycling a bike with stabilizers, where, in actual fact, it was more like cycling a bike with stabilizers over a tightrope with sharp spikes at the bottom. "Let's go..."

So they did.

- - -

"So, who's next Brendan?" Nergal asked.

Brendan looked down at the paperwork in front of him. "Err...a Mr. T. Fantastico..." His parents never gave him a chance, did they?

However, at that point, a burst of light filled the room (perfectly), and when it subsided, Tactician Fantastico stood there, in a perfectly dramatic pose. Brendan held up a card with the score "10" on it. Nergal held one up with "11".

Tactician Fantastico spoke, in his perfectly refined voice, "Hello...I hear you have an opening for a tactician...." The two leaders nodded, dumbstruck. "Well then, I shall apply. My name is Tactician Fantastico, now when do I start?"

Before Nergal could stop himself, he said "Why, straight away! How about an instant promotion to one of the Five Fangs?"

Brendan leaned over and whispered "Sir, there's only FOUR members of the FOUR Fangs."

"Bah, we'll just change it. Welcome aboard, Mr. Tacty...Mr. Tactyr...do you have a simpler name?"

The man nodded, his hair waving up and down perfectly. "Yes. Jeff."

The two men exchanged a glance, then returned to the new tactician. "Jeff it is. Now, you need a nickname, a colour followed by an animal...we've only got one of each left...you may not like it though..."

- - -

"Hey, did you hear?"

"What!?"

"There's a new Black Fang member. His nickname's the Pink Weasel!"

"We'll be killed in our sleep!"

"RUN FOR OUR LIVES!!! WOMEN AND OLD MEN FIRST!!!"

And so the two old men ran again.