Hi readers!
So, um, I updated kind of later then I initionally intended. My bad. I had the beginning of this chapter down, and kind of stupidly assumed I could just polish off the rest. Not so. Plus, I've been so insanely busy recently that I'm sort of amazed I've even been on this WEBSITE. But, it's FINALLY done. Massive thank you to all you reviewers! I love reading the feedback, keep it coming! If it were physically possible, I'd, like, make you cakes or something.
Anyway, enjoy!
The party was going down a storm.
Apparently.
While everybody else had been indulging in typical party activities, Evelyn, since spotting a dark-haired youth come in through the doorway, surrounding by a gaggle of other teenagers, had spent the majority of the party hidden under the table, her hand occasionally re-surfacing to snatch edible food off the surface. Vyvyan was busy getting unspeakably drunk, as per usual, Neil was smoking something that looked suspiciously like weed, and Mike was busy trying to multi-task by acting cool and getting girls.
Meanwhile...
"Honestly, Evelyn, do you plan on spending the whole night hiding under the table?" Rick hissed, leaning to the side in order to see her better. (Evelyn had banned him from moving, since she was using his legs for cover. Although Rick couldn't help but feel a bit out of his depth at the moment, as there were indeed several rather menacing-looking punks hovering by the alchohol supply. Vyvyan didn't count.)
"Of course not! As soon as everyone is looking in the opposite direction, I'll crawl out and leave!" came the reply.
"Oh, this is widiculous." pouted Rick. "I could be getting dwunk! Talking to the other members of the anarchsit society about sticking two fingers up at the fascist hell-hole that is our countwy under the Thatcher dogma, and furthermore-!"
"Rick, your obsession with Cliff Richard is also ridiculous, but that's a whole different issue that needs closer analysis at another time." snapped Evelyn. "And don't you DARE move. I don't want people to see me and think I'm some kind of perverted psycho."
"How does sitting under a table make you a pervert?" Rick asked, puzzled. Evelyn gazed blankly up at him.
"Staring at people's legs. Duh."
Rick was about to make a rebuttal when Vyvyan came sauntering unsteadily back to the table, thumping yet another glass of Babysham down on it, the contents sloshing dangerously towards the rim of the glass.
"Oi, haven't you girls moved since you even got here?" slurred Vyvyan, with a typical Vyvyaan gurn.
"Shut up, fascist!" hissed Rick, and then cringed as Vyvyan leant forwards and swatted him rather hard in the forehead.
"Heyyy guyyys..." drawled the familiar voice of Neil, who was smiling rather blandly as he drifted over to their table, looking like some kind of low-budget wizard with his long hair, dreamy expression and very baggy shirt. "Like, everything seems really cool, y'know? Everyone's movin arooounnd, mingliiin'..."
"Of course they're 'mingliiin'', you stupid hippie, half the party have left!" snapped Rick, massaging his forehead whilst Vyvyan smirked in a self-satisfied way. Neil hardly reacted to Rick's bluster- he was used to it, after all, and the weed was definitely helping.
"You could have told me that earlier, Rick!" Evelyn suddenly ranted at the self-proclaimed anarchist, as she appeared from beneath the table, looking distinctly sparkly and bad-tempered. "I'm going to have words with Baron Von Midget about this stupid party, honestly-"
Then she froze.
Right in front of her, was the dark-haired youth that had caused her to hide under the table for the majority of the party. Neil and Rick both stared at him, then at Evelyn, then back to him.
"Hey, Ev! Whatcha doin', looking for loose change?" snorted Vyvyan, who was utterly oblivious to the reason Evelyn had become paralysed in her rather odd position. "If you don't stand up soon, people'll start resting drinks on you!"
"I'm getting around to that!" snapped Evelyn. "I just...noticed how nice this carpet is!"
"Oh, how very nice of you to say!" chimed in the carpet.
"What?" said the boy, looking around, no doubt alerted by Vyvyan's obnoxiously loud voice. Then he looked down.
"...Ev?"
"Oh." Evelyn said, trying to sound nonchalant, but her oddly strangulated voice wasn't a particularly convincing. "Hi."
Then she promptly sprang to her feet and did the only sensible thing.
She ran for it.
Several hours later...
"Well, I think this has been quite the success," Mike remarked, casually.
"Mike, that girl slapped you in the face," Rick pointed out.
"All part of the foreplay, Rick."
"But she called you a sexual pwedator!"
"Foreplay."
"And she poured her dwink in your hair!"
"Don't worry, Rick, when you're older, you'll understand," Mike told the anarchist soothingly, eliciting a puzzled expression from the latter. Taking advantage of this, Mike pressed on, "Anyway, go round up Vyvyan and Evelyn, will you? I need to make sure Neil doesn't try and smuggle home any dope in his underpants again."
"Urgh, you're not actually going to check down there, are you?" yelped Rick, with disgust.
"No," Mike answered, calmly. "If I tell him to jump and he's too confused to do it, I'll know he smoked it all."
And off he went.
"God, fascist!" hissed Rick, but internally, he was actually feeling quite alright with leaving. (Somebody had been sick in the upstairs toilet, meaning he couldn't use it, and he didn't wish to prolong any suffering on his bottom.)
Finding Vyvyan proved to be fairly easy. All he had to do was follow the various shouts of, "Bastard!" and the crashing noises that inevitably followed it. Rick tip-toed into the landing of the house to find Vyvyan, a broken lamp and a random party-goer lying by his feet. It looked a bit like Neil's friend Warlock.
"Um, hello, Vyvyan." Rick said, awkwardly.
"Piss off, you idiot!" came the response.
"Ahaaa..." Rick said, laughing awkwardly. "Listen, um, Vyvyan, er, MIKE said we need to go now. So, if you want to take it up with him, some girl was giving him a lager shampoo, so, ah-"
"This party's boring anyway. No more booze!" complained the punk. He nudged the person lying by his foot disinterestdly. "He didn't have any."
Which explained the broken lamp.
After hustling Vyvyan out of the landing by saying there might be some people with alcohol outside, there was no sign of their fellow house-mates.
"How bloody inconsidewate can you get! Where did that stupid hippy bugger off to?" hissed Rick, into the dark. "And Micheal's up and vanished too, and now I'm stuck with you!"
"Aww, missing them are you, snot-face?"
"Shut up, you Thatchewite dwone!"
Vyvyan kicked Rick in the shin, which caused the latter to squeal and hop about madly, clutching his shin, while Vyvyan laughed hysterically at him.
"You massive girl!"
Speaking of girls...
"Actually, where is Evelyn, anyway?" Rick suddenly said, ceasing his hopping. Vyvyan shrugged.
"Haven't seen her since she got out from under the table."
"Ssh!" Rick hissed. "Look!"
Vyvyan was about to open his mouth and argue, but then he saw what Rick was pointing at and, for once, complied with the sociology student.
Evelyn was standing with her arms folded and her mouth set in a distinct expression of being unimpressed. The boy that Evelyn had been hiding from for about half of the party was standing opposite her, clutching a cup of beer. Judging by the way he was swaying slightly, it wasn't his first.
"Listen, Tammy..." slurred Justin.
"Evelyn."
"Listen, Evelyn...wha' I did...it was an accident. It di'n't mean 'nything."
Evelyn stared at him flatly.
"You slept with my roomate. And tried to feel up my cousin."
"Yeah, well-"
"BEING DRUNK IS NOT AN EXCUSE!" Evelyn shreiked at him. Justin winced. "If you wanted to DO THINGS and you were DRUNK, would it have been so difficult to just find ME, your supposed GIRLFRIEND, to do STUFF WITH, INSTEAD OF GRABBING THE FIRST DRUNKEN COW YOU COULD FIND?"
"Oh, c'mon, Ev..."
"Don'ttouchme!"
Justin's hand snaked towards Evelyn in the darkness, which Evelyn angrily side-stepped. Vyvyan caught a glimpse of her face as she did this- she looked angry, obviously, but also slightly upset for a moment.
"Evelyn-"
"HEY! EV!" Vyvyan suddenly yelled, making everyone else in the vicinity jump.
Before Rick or Justin could speak, the punk marched out from the snicket and over to Evelyn, who was standing there with her mouth slightly open, which generally wasn't a good look.
"We've been looking everywhere for you!" Vyvyan announced. "Come on."
He wasn't sure exactly WHY he had said that (it could have been true, he had no idea.) but he had the feeling that it was a combination of three things: Alcohol, the fact that Evelyn's eyelid was twitching rather rapidly, and the fact that he really, really wanted to punch something.
"Huh?" Evelyn said, succinctly summing up pretty much what everyone was thinking.
"We're talkin' 'bout shomethin'" Justin informed Vyvyan, slinging an arm over Evelyn's shoulder, who let out a furious screech of disgust. "In private."
"We are not!"
And then, a miracle happened.
"Quick! It's the Pigs!" shouted a boy, who was obviously trying to steal a television, judging by the fact he looked pregnant, which is an odd thing in a man. Sirens wailed in the background as several teenagers ran in all directions, yelling.
"Oh no!" Rick immediately squealed, running about in small circles. "The Pigs! Everyone knows they hate students! I can't go to pwison! They'll wape me! Help! Help! I didn't do it!"
"Shut up, Rick, you stupid bastard!" Vyvyan yelled, slapping Rick upside the head. All of Rick's hysterical shrieking was giving him a headache.
He turned his attention to Evelyn and Justin, as the former furiously attempted to stamp on the latter's foot.
"Right!"
And with absolutely no thought or any particular poise, he stomped over to Justin and punched him in the face. He felt a mingle of satisfaction at Justin squealing and falling backwards, clutching his bloodied nose, and a twinge of disgust at the pathetic display the latter was putting on. It was almost as bad as Rick.
Next, he turned to Evelyn, who was shouting something along the lines of, "What the FUCK, Vyvyan-!" and casually stooped, grabbed hold of her legs and hauled her over his shoulder, ignoring Evelyn's yells of "Vyvyan!" and "I'm gonna be sick, you stupid twat, put me down!"
"Rick, stop crying like the little bogey-bum you are and come ON!" Vyvyan barked at the sociology student, who was currently wailing about how he had been forced to come to the party and how he was a victim in the whole situation. Rick looked up, blinking, as Vyvyan snorted like a bull and stomped off, while Evelyn carried on shouting (what in particular she was shouting about now was anybody's guess), slung awkwardly over his shoulder like a bag of flour and kicking feebly.
"Oh. Wight." Rick mumbled, and trotted meekly after them.
As the three Young Ones left, Neil came drifting outside like a helium balloon that has been sagging for a few days.
"I could have sworn I heard Rick, Ev and Vyv out here!" he complained, to the cameras. "Heavy..."
Then he looked around, a mildly confused expression on his face.
"Where am I?"
The next morning, it was actually slightly more quiet than usual in the house of our favourite, hygienically-challenged students. Vyvyan was slumped over the table, nursing his hangover- with a bottle of rum. Neil was running about, as quietly as possible, trying to make something edible for breakfast/lunch, Mike was reading the paper, as the author couldn't be bothered to have him do anything else, and Rick was picking at one of his spots.
"How much did you have to drink last night, Vyv?" Mike asked Vyvyan as the med student let out his fourth groan.
"...Lots." Vyvyan surmised, after a few moments.
Neil scurried around the others, handing out slices of toast. There were no plates- the ones that hadn't yet been broken over Rick's head seemed to have gone missing or were so coated in filth that things were actually growing on them.
"Oooh, goody!" Rick announced, taking a bite of his. "Stwawbewwy jam!"
Vyvyan swiftly grabbed the toast from Rick's fingers and flung it away.
"You BASTARD, Vyvyan!" Rick shouted, leaping up and trying to stab Vyvyan with a fork, sparking a small fight which ended with Rick having a teacup thrown at him.
Then, extremely noisy thudding interrupted the (relative) peace.
"ALL RIGHT!" Evelyn yelled, pointing dramatically at each of her house-mates in turn, before adding in a menacing voice. "Who did it?"
A small silence followed.
"Well, I think you'll find I have, several times." Mike commented, sounding a strange cross of matter-of-fact and smug.
"Um, who did what, Ev?" Neil piped up, rather nervously.
Evelyn lifted up her index finger. (Well, it was attached to her hand and arm, obviously.)
"My strawberry-patterned bra that I bought two months ago with the red lace on it is MISSING. It was lying around on the floor in my room last night and now it's GONE. So one of you obviously took it and I want it BACK! It cost me twenty quid!"
She folded her arms over her chest, in a rather final manner.
The boys glanced at each other, flashing What-the-hell-is-she-talking-about? signals. Well, almost all of them, anyway...
"Well, it was obviously Neil!" Rick burst out suddenly, thrusting an accusatory finger at the aforementioned hippy. "He's the one who's always cweeping awound at night!"
"What? How could I have taken it? I've been downstairs all the time!" complained Neil, mournfully. "I think that's really heavy, right, just immediately accusing me of theft without any concrete evidence, Rick!"
Vyvyan, however, was frowning to himself. Where had he heard the phrase 'strawberry-patterned bra' before?
"I think we should search your room, then!" announced Rick, sneering rather pathetically as Neil looked panicky. "And then we'll see if there's any concwete evidence or not, you stupid hippie!"
"No! You can't go in my room, Rick!" Neil yelped.
Everyone glanced at Neil, a little surprised at this uncharacteristic display of energy from the long-haired pacifist. Evelyn and Vyvyan glanced at each other, then shrugged. Mike looked at Neil over his sunglasses.
"Why can't we go in your room, Neil?" Mike asked, calmly, with the air of one asking a loaded question.
"Um, um, uuuuummmm...because I've just painted my astrological star chart and I don't want the paint to get smudged." Neil said, his voice adopting a dreamy quality when uttering the words 'star chart'. The boys shrugged, seeming to accept that, but Evelyn frowned suspiciously.
Rick snorted loudly.
"God, Neil, you're such a dwip and a girl!"
"What's so bad about being a girl, Rick?" Evelyn asked Rick, acidly.
"Um...no..." Rick stammered, as the housemates all turned to stare at him. "Wh-what-what I MEANT to say, actually, is that Neil's such a dwip AND a girl would never go near him even if he paid them lots and lots of money!" he finished, triumphant.
Neil looked confused.
"Rick, aside from your mum and Evelyn, you've never even been near a proper girl." Mike reminded him.
"Well, I don't care!" shouted Rick, putting his hands on his hips. "Because- because, I was definitely thinking about touching girls' bottoms and things! Yes!"
"Rick," Evelyn said, in a highly dangerous voice, "If I even catch you thinking about touching my bottom- or indeed any part of my anatomy- then I will personally ram a chainsaw through your kidneys. Understand?"
"As long as you clean it afterwards," chimed in Vyvyan.
"Y-yes..." stammered Rick.
A silence descended.
An AWKWARD silence.
Thankfully, the silence was broken by a loud knocking at the front door.
"Somebody just knocked on the front door." Mike announced, glancing up at the others from behind his newspaper.
"Yeah, typically it means they want to come in or something." Evelyn said, sarcastically.
"Looks like someone will have to answer the front door." continued Mike, as though he hadn't heard her.
"Bags not me!" screamed Rick, with a strange kind of theatrical bouncing, hand in the air.
"Bags not me!" yelled Vyvyan, whacking Rick with his cricket bat, knocking the sociology student to the floor, elicting a yelp from him.
"Bags not me!" shouted Evelyn.
They all turned to Neil, eerily identical expectant looks on their faces.
"I suppose I'll just get the door, then." mumbled Neil, shuffling obediently towards it.
There was an expectant pause. Rick looked at his watch, then remembered he couldn't tell the time anyway. He frowned.
Why am I weawing a watch in the first place if I'm not...all that good at telling the time? He thought, being uncharacteristically insightful, for a change. Wait! I know! Anarchists don't NEED to tell the time!Rick grinned now, rather smugly happy with his train of thought.
Yeah, who needs time, anyway? It's just another attempt of The Man to keep us all down and keep to a stupid schedule, where we all have to tell the TIME! Well, I've got news for YOU, Mr. MAN, The People's Poet isn't fooled by you and your so-called-"RICK! WILL YOU STOP YOUR STUPID INTERNAL MONOLOGGING!" screamed Vyvyan, picking up a chair and using it to smash Rick into the floor. "I. Am. Very. HUNGOVER!"
"Yes, I expect all that shouting is doing it the world of good," remarked Mike.
"What?"
Just then, Neil made a not-so grand entrance back into the house, followed by someone else.
"Um, Ev, this guy says he's here to see you and stuff..." mumbled Neil, shuffling aside to reveal 'this guy'.
And in walked a very strangely dressed man. He was wearing a moss-green suit, combined with what looked like a brown fedora with a feather poking out of it. Shaggy, dirty-blonde hair escaped from beneath the hat and a light coating of similarly-coloured stubble decorated his chin. He looked to be about in his late fourties, and that he had come to the house dressed as either a mod or a pimp. As Evelyn stared at him with a look of pure shock written all over her face, he smiled rather sheepishly.
"Hi, Evelyn."
"Dad?" Evelyn squeaked. "What the hell are YOU doing here?"
"What? Aren't I allowed to visit my daughter occasionally?" asked Quentin, batting his eyelashes.
Evelyn raised her eyebrows and folded her arms over her chest.
"Let me guess. You need a tenner."
"Well. Sort of."
"Oh, well! Of course somebody so odd-looking is welated to her." Rick muttered. Vyvyan snorted loudly.
Evelyn shot Rick a look that had the anarchist cringing and hiding behind Neil.
"How did you find me, anyway?" Evelyn demanded, looking back at Quentin and putting her hands on her hips. "Nobody has been able to find me recently, not even the postman."
"Actually, that's the anti-postman-trap I've been setting up." Vyvyan interjected, sounding proud of this.
"Alison." replied Quentin, with a slight shrug. "She mentioned that you had a fight with your roommates and decided to go and live with some people who drove a bus over a cliff last year after randomly meeting them in a pub."
"Yup, that about sums it up." agreed Evelyn, picking at a hole in the hem of her top. Neither of them seemed particularly perturbed about the direction the conversation was taking.
"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" Quentin prompted, looking about, "it's a shame you fell out with your old roommates, though. Such pretty girls..."
"Shut UP, dad." Evelyn said quickly, with a rather pissed-off face. Quentin grinned apologetically. Evelyn coughed into her fist and gestured to Neil. "This is Neil...little twat hiding behind him is Rick."
"Hello!" Neil said, politely. Rick pretended not to hear the introduction.
Evelyn pointed to Mike and Vyvyan in turn.
"That's Micheal and this is Vyvyan." she said, thus cementing the previous action.
"Nice to meet you, boys!" Quentin said, cheerfully. "Quentin Volcano."
"Volcano?" Neil asked, sounding impressed at such an outlandish last name.
Quentin turned to Evelyn.
"So, which one is your boyfriend?"
Each boy (except for Mike, since he had a CoolPerson reputation to uphold) reacted in a similar way- all of them simultaneously performed some kind of jerky, flailing movement and turned to look at Evelyn, wide-eyed. Evelyn's jaw dropped and her face changed from her normal flesh colour to a more white shade.
"You did NOT just ask me that question!" she screeched, "Just because I live with boys, you automatically assume I have to fancy one of them! As if! God, you've only been here for five minutes and I'm already thinking about killing you!"
"Evvie-"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" screeched Evelyn, swivelling away from him and folding her arms. Neil winced. "I'm not speaking to you! Get outta my house!"
"But I got you a present-" Quentin protested, procuring a box from beneath his jacket.
"I forgive you." Evelyn immediately said, turning and grabbing the box. She tore off the wrapping paper with a smooth, practised movement, as if she had been bribed many a time before. "Ooh! Shoes!" she squealed, throwing the glittery paper aside, which Neil surreptitiously hid in his pocket. (It would make a great addition for his Star Chart.)
"Tenner?" Quentin asked, as Evelyn giggled rather oddly, holding up a pair of electric-blue heels.
Evelyn, without taking her eyes off her gift, reached into her pocket and tossed the money over her shoulder, which Quentin easily plucked from the air.
"That's ALL?" Rick said, looking annoyed. "You just barge in for a measly ten-pound note?"
"Shut up, Rick!" said Evelyn, Vyvyan and, oddly enough, Quentin, all at once.
"Shoessss..." Evelyn grinned, kicking off her trainers and slipping on her new ones, which looked a bit strange with Hello Kitty socks.
"Well, bye, Evelyn!" Quentin said, smiling. He stood beside his manically-grinning daughter. "Oh, and one more thing..."
He handed her something.
"Use it well." Quentin said to Evelyn, winking roguishly (his daughter blanched) and promptly strolled cheerfully out of the house.
Evelyn looked down at what Quentin had stuffed into her hand. It was a condom.
"GAH!" Evelyn squealed, her face going the colour of a sundried tomato, and she promptly dropped the condom on the floor and stomped on it, then kicked it so that it went skidding out of the door and down the front path.
"I'm freeee!" said the condom. Then it got squished by a truck.
"What's the matter, Ev?" inquired Neil, as Evelyn stomped over to the table and sat down with a dramatic thud.
"My father is a complete idiot." Evelyn replied, flatly. Then she looked up. "Now, would somebody like to tell me why is there a piece of toast stuck to the ceiling?"
"Well-" began Neil.
"It was all Vyvyan's fault!" shouted Rick, pointing at him. "He gwabbed my toast, and-"
Vyvyan looked rather bored.
"Who cares?"
"Why did I even ask?" Evelyn muttered, taking a swig of Coke. Then, suddenly, she hiccupped. Loudly. "Oh, dammit."
"What?"
"Nothing." Evelyn shrugged. "Hiccups."
She did it again. Mike looked amused.
"Oh, I know something that might help, Ev!" Neil said. Evelyn raised her eyebrows.
"You do?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's great! What you do right, is take a pomegranate, and then you-"
Evelyn hiccupped.
"Let's just skip the explanation and go for it, ok- hic- ay?"
"This won't end well..." Mike remarked, to the camera.
Several hours later...
"Hic," went Evelyn, for about the four-hundredth time that evening.
"Stop doing that, Ev," Michael said from behind his newspaper. "It's very distracting."
"I- hic- can't help it!" replied Evelyn, shoulders twitching convulsively with each hiccup. She glared at Neil from her position on the sofa, "This is all your -hic- fault, Neil!"
"How is it my fault?" whined Neil from the kitchen, "What did I do?"
"You were born!" shouted Rick, giving one of his snorty laughs at his oh-so-witty remark. Nobody paid him the slightest bit of notice.
"You and your -hic- stupid hippy remedies- hic- made them WORSE!" shouted Evelyn, as Rick pouted, "And now I can't -hic- stop!"
"A highly irritating distraction." commented Mike.
"Distraction from what?" pondered Neil.
"Evelyn is highly iwwitating anyway." sniggered Rick.
"And you're a complete bastard," snapped Vyvyan, who had been busily carving the table with one of his favourite knives. It was quiet for a minute.
"Hic!" went Evelyn again, forlornly.
"Evelyn, for god's sake, you've had hiccups for about six hours now!" shrieked Rick. "It's bloody widiculous!"
"I -hic- can't stop!" wailed Evelyn. "Do someth -hic- ing!"
"Right, I've had enough of this!" declared Vyvyan, decisively.
Rick opened his mouth to deliver another oh-so-witty comment, when Vyvyan suddenly got up and sauntered over to where Evelyn was sitting on the sofa. There was a somewhat menacing gleam in his eye and Evelyn looked wary.
"What?" she managed to say, sounding really quite worried as Vyvyan loomed over her for a second in a rather frightening manner, "Why are you- hic- staring- Ahh! You bastard! Stop-hic- it! Vyvan- !"
The orange-haired punk totally ignored Evelyn's shriek as he casually jumped on the sofa, pinning Ev down with one arm and his knees, using the other one to violently tickle her. It was nothing short of a miracle that he hadn't squashed her. Evelyn burst into hysterical giggles, wriggling around wildly, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe properly. Her attempts to wriggle free of Vyvyan's ridiculously strong grip proved to be completely useless. Then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. Evelyn was left to gasp for breath as Vyvyan nonchalantly returned to his original seat.
"Wh-what on earth was that meant to be, Vyvyan?" cried Rick, looking oddly pink for some reason, "Aside from looking wildly inappwopriate, you pervy, all you actually did was tickle her!"
Vyvyan smirked, as Evelyn sat there on the sofa, apparently stunned by what had just happened.
"Well it worked, didn't it?" retorted Vyvyan.
The five sat in silence for a moment, listening. Evelyn looked highly relieved. Then,
"Hic," went Rick, out of nowhere.
Everyone stared at Rick. Vyvyan's expression was almost predatory.
Rick gulped.
"Oh dear."
So, hints of somethings going on! The mysterious cousin Alison will appear later in the story, which should shake things up a little bit. Not quite yet, though- the Young Ones have a few more misadventures to get into before then.
Also, minor trivia: Tammy is the prototype name I had for Evs when I first made her up. Glad I switched it to Evelyn, though.
You've read, so what next?
Review! ^-^