The author discovered that she forgot to do something. Remember this momentous occasion, as it will (hopefully) not occur again...
Disclaimer: I own the plot, typing, dialogue, methods for getting snacks, and generally everything that makes this story funny (omitting the characters). I do not own the books, nor the rights to the books, nor am I Eoin Colfer. Therefore, I am simply a writing geek who's obsessed with fanfiction who owns nothing and is writing this for your amusement. So sit up and take notice, D'Arvit!
Ps. I do not own "D'Arvit!" I merely use it liberally.
Enjoy!
Holly Short was doing paperwork. She hated paperwork.
Because she had just gotten back from a few consecutive missions and had put off the work then, she had tons of paperwork to fill out. Never mind that they were thoroughly basic and unimportant flybys, checking things out to be sure nothing was up; there was paperwork to be done.
Three staplers were lying on her desk sideways, as if they were dead soldiers on the battlefield. Papers (stapled and unstapled) were strewn about her desk, on the floor (along with a thin, worn brown book), crowding the outbox, crowding the inbox, tacked to the wall, under her chair, and on top of her computer monitor. She was also sitting on a few.
Chay knocked on the wall of her cubicle.
"Hey, Holly?" He caught her in mid-sentence on a particularly tedious and long information sheet. Holly turned to him, her hair messy, and her left eye twitching.
"Captain Short," she corrected him, irritated, "what do you want?"
"Er, could I borrow a POR disk?" he asked. POR was an acronym for Portable Office Storage. Add a disk, and you've essentially got a severely jazzed up floppy disk.
She yanked one from her computer and tossed it at him.
"Erase your stuff before you return it. Now, get out," she said, turning back to her work.
"Thanks, Captain Short," Whitfield said, escaping. He didn't hear Holly's grunt as she scrawled away on paperwork, deciding to lay off the coffee for a while. She didn't notice that the book that had fallen onto the floor had been snitched.
Later, at quitting time, Chay went over to Grub.
"This it?" he asked, forking over the book.
"I think so," Grub responded, much less sure of himself than previously.
"How do you know?"
"Um…I heard Chix talking about it. He says that she scribbles in it sometimes, stuff about her fantasies about him."
"I'm sure," Chay said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "So, hold onto this until April?"
"Uh-huh," Grub said, and nearly opened the book.
"Duck!" Chay hissed, and shoved Grub into the closest cubicle and throwing himself in afterwards. The intern in the cubicle was startled, to say the least.
Holly slowly passed, worn out from the menial and tedious paper working.
"What was that for?" Grub demanded.
"Captain Short just passed! You wouldn't want to get caught, now would you?"
"Oh."
And now, because I can't think of anything more to write for plot, I shalt entertain you with a little something I like to call…filler.
And now, ladies and gentleman, elves and fairies, nerd, dorks, geeks, writers, and readers of all ages, I introduce to you,
…The Return of Fillerstein. (Those of you who have read the Matchmaker, feel free to laugh hysterically. Those who hadn't, disregard the pun.)
Foalonious Rydier's Diary, 3/14/99 11:36 AM
Got in at six-thirty. Am dragging thanks to lack of sleep. Do not even know why I am writing. Am making up for it by using awful grammar.
Finished Beetroot's demands for prototype. Will scream if have to see another C4HQ2000 microchip today. Will goddamn scream.
Am also using awful and weak profanities. Do not feel justified in spite of this.
Holly looks…tired. Noticed it when going to get fourth cup of coffee. She was sitting in the vending machine room, with her head on the table. She had a caffeine-high bottle of sugar water clenched in her hand. Did not pick up head when I said good morning. Responded with somewhat of a grunt. Other Recon jocks are finally teaching her the language.
Have written it previously, and will not say it again.
…Alright, once more.
It isn't fair that a Recon jock/female Recon "Guinea pig"/irritant/poison tongued elf should be so attractive when she is thoroughly exhausted. Not to say, of course, that she doesn't look good thoroughly awake. Quite the opposite.
As mentioned previously, if am simply restating what was written before, do not know why am writing.
Ooh, Grub's carrying something smoking. Fresh carrot¹. Fresh, irritating, incompetent carrot.
But hey, carrot's carrot.
¹Saying "Ooh…fresh carrot," is about the same as saying "Ooh…fresh meat." A centaur probably wouldn't write "Ooh…fresh meat."
Please review! You know what happens if you don't ((cursor hovered over the "Remove Story" button."))