A/N: GAH! I can't believe this took so long! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I've had an eivl writer's block, and I'm not sure I've gotten rid of it, because now that I'm done with this chapter, I have NO IDEA what I'm going to write. No clue. I had a plan . . . and somehow the plan died. I think I had an alternate plan, too, but I forgot it.

Some information: Whos -- in this story, at least -- have clothes. When I watched the movie, it looked like Ned's clothes weren't attached to the rest of his fur. So there. (*sticks out tongue*) I'm mature.
Also, love Mimi. She is cool and has awesome hair.

Again, I don't know if I like this one, but I've decided that I'll never like anything I write, ever, so I can't really be a fair judge of that. Hopefully it's good.

So . . . In this chapter, Sally is stupid and Ned is nuts. Hence the title.

Anyway, enjoy if at all possible!

Beep! "Hi, Ned, it's Jamie. Jamie Kinsley. You know — yeah." There was a nervous giggle. "I-I got this number from the phone book. Um, anyway, I was wondering if you were free. Tonight. So we could go out or something." There was a long pause. "I guess you're not home." Another pause. "Okay, then. Call me. Bye. . . . Oh! Do you have my phone number? It's 346-2781." Another pause. "Bye." Beep!

Ned stared at the answering machine for a minute before lifting his eyes to Patrick. His friend was watching him with an unquestionably exasperated expression. "Let me get this straight," he began slowly. "You were home, in your room, when Jamie called. Instead of being nice and answering the phone, you let it ring, and made her leave a kind of embarrassing message while you were listening. And then you called me over so that I could listen to it?"

"I wasn't trying to be mean!" Ned said defensively. "I just . . . wasn't ready to talk to her yet." In fact, he'd been dodging her calls for a few days now, because whenever he and Jamie talked on the phone, it was painfully awkward, and he felt much better just avoiding the entire process. But the way Patrick said it . . . it made him sound like a total jerk.

Patrick sighed. "Ned, it's been a week and you haven't gone on a date with the girl. When are you actually going to do it?"

"Soon!" Patrick continued to stare at him. "Tonight, in fact. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to call her right now." He picked up the phone smugly, then stared at it. Now he had to . . . call her. He swallowed hard and dialed, listening to the phone ring and hoping she wouldn't answer.

"Hello?"

Crap! "Jamie, hi. It's Ned."

"Hey. What's up?"

What was up? Why did he call? "Just returning your message . . ."

"So, are you free?"

Ned cringed and looked up at Patrick, who was listening from the other house phone, the hypocrite. Patrick nodded furiously.

"Yeah. Free as a bird." Because that didn't sound beyond stupid.

"Great! I was thinking that we could have dinner somewhere — maybe that new pizzeria near the school — and maybe see a movie. . . ."

"Sure. Sounds good." Patrick rolled his eyes and mouthed, "Show some enthusiasm!"

"Okay! Hmm . . ." She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with asking something. "So, I'll meet you at the restaurant?"

"Yep. See you then." There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch over hours.

"So, what did you do today?" Her voice was very soft.

"Nothing much." Across the room, Patrick slapped his forehead, and Ned pulled the receiver away from his face, hissing, "Well, not much did! What, should I make something up?"

"Tell her what happened!" Patrick shot back, yanking the phone away from him as well.

"But it's boring!"

"So? You just have to talk!"

Ned sighed and returned his attention back to Jamie. "Sorry, I had a little . . . trouble."

"That's okay." Another awkward pause.

"How was your day?" Ned honestly couldn't care less, but he had to say something.

"Well, my day was pretty boring. . . ." She continued talking, her voice growing more animated all the while.

Ned had no idea what she was talking about; he just kept saying, "Uh-huh," and "That's cool" whenever the occasion arose. He was too busy glaring at Patrick, who was making stupid faces at Ned — apparently mimicking his own expression. Finally it got irritating enough that he was tempted to hurl the phone across the room at Patrick, thus killing two birds with one stone . . . or phone. He chuckled to himself, realizing that it definitely killed the mood of whatever Jamie was talking about.

"It wasn't funny!" she said, sounding scandalized. "She completely insulted me!"

"I-I'm sorry!" he stammered, blushing. Patrick rolled his eyes and mouthed, "Smooth" across the room.

Suddenly his bedroom door flung open and one of his sisters stuck her head in. "NED, GET OFF THE STUPID PHONE!" she screamed, despite the fact that they were now in the same room and Ned had excellent hearing (he knew, because he'd gone to see a doctor when he was afraid he was going to go deaf. It was a long story).

Feeling extremely relieved as he turned his attention back to the phone. "Listen, Jamie, I'm really sorry, but I have to —"

"Go," Jamie finished. "Was that your sister?"

"One of them."

"You have more than —"

"I really have to get off."

"Oh. Okay."

"See you tonight."

"Yep. . . ."

Knowing that he'd probably done something less-than-genius, he set the phone back in its cradle. "Tonight's going to be a disaster, isn't it?"

Patrick nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. Probably."

Sally glanced up at the McDodd home. It was a tall, spindly, and erratic building, with rooms sticking out of it at weird angles, as if they'd been added as afterthoughts. She rang the doorbell and leaned back, hooking her hands behind her head; it always took forever for anyone to come to the door. It was strange, since their family was so big, but she had accepted it as one of the many oddities of the world that would never be explained.

Finally the door opened and Sally was hit with a wave of noise. A hand took hers and yanked her inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Hey, Sal!" Someone shouted in her ear, dropping her hand. She turned to see Mimi McDodd, Ned's twin (but four-and-half minutes younger) sister, grinning at her with her brother's gap-toothed smile. She held a brush in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other. "It's Sally," she said into the latter. "Can I bring her up? Over." There was a long pause as she listened to her correspondent impatiently. "Yes, I'll get the chips," she said, rolling her eyes. "But you know he can't eat anything! Over." She pressed a button on the walkie-talkie and dropped it into her purse. "Come on," she said, taking Sally's hand again and leading her to the kitchen. "Ned's in his room, but we need to grab the girls some chips first."

"What's going on?" Sally asked, glancing up the stairs, where most of the noise was coming from.

Mimi didn't seem to hear her, though, as she rummaged through the cabinets, eventually emerging with a bag of potato chips.

As they hurried upstairs, Sally noticed that most of Ned's brothers were downstairs. Probably trying to avoid . . . whatever was going on, Sally figured, as she and Mimi made it to the end of the hallway. "Brace yourself," Mimi whispered with a wink before throwing open Ned's bedroom door.

For a moment, Sally was absolutely confused. The room was filled with girls — most of Ned's sisters, it seemed like, all of them giggling, shouting or waving various care-products. Clothes were strewn over every available surface, and a fog of hairspray and . . . was that perfume? — hung thick in the air.

There was no way this was Ned's room. She started to back out, wondering if maybe he'd switched rooms with his sisters, when Mimi began fighting her way through the crowd, dragging Sally behind like a ragdoll. She clung to the Who's hand, unable to see over the crowd of girls and just hoping she'd make it to her destination alive.

When she was aware that the people around her had disappeared, she cracked one eye open and took a hurried glance around.

Then she opened the other eye and stared at what was in the corner of her friend's room.

Ned was crouching on the bed, his arms thrown up in a defensive position in an apparent attempt to stop this attack of cosmetics, but it didn't seem he'd been able to hold his own against his sisters. One of his arms was in one shirt, the other was in a different shirt entirely, and he had a third pulled over his head. Three girls were each trying to make sure their shirt was the one he wore, and were having a gruesome fight over it; one of them — a little pink Who taller than Sally — held a pair of glasses over the second, who was reaching up with one arm to get them back, but with the other arm was yanking at the third one's fur. While this was going on, a Who that couldn't have been out of kindergarten was trying to help, and was combing the fur nearest her — Ned's foot. As Sally watched, this little girl's sister came toddling up and yanked the comb out of her hands. This unsurprisingly led to another brawl, only adding to the chaos piled around her poor friend, who was certainly receiving the worst of it. Every once in a while he'd be hit by a stray foot, fist or hairspray bottle.

Mimi sighed and shook her head, her hundreds of tiny braids smacking her in the face. "My sisters," she muttered, and stormed over to the counter, where she snatched up a spray bottle of water. Turning to the fights, she unleashed it, dousing everyone with cold water.

The three girls fighting over the shirts leapt out of the way, screaming and trying to protect their clothes. The two youngest, however, didn't appear to notice, as they were having a fierce tug-of-war over Ned's foot, wailing loudly. Mimi picked them each up by the scruffs of their necks, holding them far enough away that they couldn't inflict any damage. "That's enough, Trisha, Katy!" she said reprovingly, shaking them slightly for emphasis. "I'm not letting you down until you promise to stop!"

The both looked at each other, then up at their sister. "I promise," they mumbled in unison. Satisfied, Mimi set them down, turning to the rest of the room. They fell silent, staring warily at the half-filled spray bottle still in her hand.

"All right!" she said authoritatively. "We've helped Ned out quite a bit, and I'm sure he's very grateful" — she looked over at him, and he nodded meekly, though with the shirt over his head Sally wondered how he could sense the warning glare his twin was sending him — "and Sally's going to take it from here."

Sally, suddenly the victim of the warning glare, quickly agreed without knowing what she was agreeing to.

"But she's never been on a date in her life!" Hannah said, putting her hands on her hips. Sally blushed; she knew that Hannah, only a year and a half younger than her, had been on more dates than everyone else in the Mcdodd home, while Sally had, in fact, never had one, but did she really have to be reminded of that?

"That's not true," Mimi said, in response to both Hannah's statement and the titters that traveled around the room. She turned to Sally with raised eyebrows. "Is it?"

"Of course it isn't," she lied, meeting Hannah's gaze. "I've been on plenty." Hannah smirked, but didn't say anything.

"See? Now, go watch some movies or something. Sally has work to do." As the others all filed out of the room, Mimi gave her one last encouraging smile before pulling the door shut.

Once the room was empty, Sally sighed in relief, and hurried over to where Ned still sat, unmoving. "They're gone," she whispered. "You can come out now."

Apparently oblivious to her teasing, Ned mumbled, "No I can't."

"Sure you can. And you should; if you wear those wet shirts for too long, you'll catch a cold."

"No, I mean I can't get out. I'm stuck. I think my hair's caught on a button or something."

She coughed to cover a laugh, and gently tugged on the shirt over his head. "This the one?" she asked.

"Yep."

She gently weaved her fingers through the fur, tugging on the fuzzy fabric here and there. "Man, it's really stuck," she muttered, trying to loosen the hair tangled around a button. She thought she'd gotten it fixed, and yanked at the shirt. Ned yelped and gasped, bringing his hand to his head. "Sorry," she said. "I think I've got this time. Just a second . . . there!" She handed the shirt to Ned, who took it with a sheepish smile.

"Thanks."

"No problem.' She took the shirts from him and stepped over to the closet, hanging them up to dry. "So, what's all the commotion?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him and grinning. "Hot date?"

"Uh — yeah, I guess, sort of," he replied, struggling to flatten his hair again. "I'm taking Jamie over to . . . a pizza place. Damn, I don't remember what it's called. That's not good. . . . And I still have to get ready. Crap, crap. I don't have time, I —"

Sally held up her hand, stopping him from getting up off the bed and racing around in a panic. "Sure you do. I'm here, aren't I? I'll help." She looked over at the closet and pulled out a light blue shirt. "Try this on."

Finally it was time for Ned to go, and Sally stepped back, looked him up and down, and nodded. "Perfect!"

"Really? I feel kind of . . . stupid."

"You look kind of stupid," Ryan, one of Ned's younger brothers, said as he came up the stairs.

"Shut up," Sally shot back. "You look fine, Ned. Seriously, would I let you go out looking like an idiot?"

"I-I'm not sure how to answer that."

She laughed, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "No, I wouldn't. So get out there and have a good time, all right?"

He looked unsure. "I'll try. . . ." he mumbled, giving her a sideways glance he probably didn't think she'd notice. It was a look that made her a little uncomfortable, and a little — stupid, stupid Sarah, making her feel all weird around her best friend — excited. The silence grew awkward, and Sally blinked, reminding herself exactly who Ned was going on a date with.

"See you; good luck on your date," she said, and left as quickly as possible without looking like the coward she was.

Once she was outside, and the warm summer air hit her face, she immediately felt calmer. And more like an idiot.

Why would she let herself think that she liked him, even a little? She'd known him for way too long — she'd peed in his pool before! She couldn't possibly have a romantic relationship with someone like that. He was practically her brother. It would definitely be the creepiest thing in existence.

Besides, he was dating Jamie. In fact, he was probably already on his way to her house now, getting ready to eat pizza. While she'd . . . be at home, eating crackers and reading some dumb teen novel. She felt jealousy twist her stomach into a knot, and that somehow made her feel better.

She was just jealous because Ned was moving along faster than she was, which she'd never expected in all their years of friendship. She wasn't jealous of Jamie, not at all.

Because that would be very stupid.

Sally opened the door to her home and slipped inside. She went into the kitchen and pulled out a box of cereal, taking a handful absently. She glanced down at the box, tempted to put it back and eat something healthy.

She shrugged, popped another handful of sugary cereal into her mouth and climbed the stairs to her bedroom with the box under one arm.

Her sisters, Natalie and Nicole, were already there, throwing stuffed animals at each other and giggling. Sally turned to them, in no mood for noise or happiness of any kind.

"Out."

"But it's our room, too!"

"I don't care. Out, now."

"MOM!"

Their mother came racing up the stairs. "What?"

"Sally's making us leave, and she can't!"

Their mother looked from Sally's box of cereal and the expression on her face, and she turned to the girls with a smile. "Sal has to . . . take a nap, sweetie," she said to Natalie, leading both of her sisters out of the room. "Why don't you watch some TV?"

Sally smiled gratefully, and flopped onto the bed as the door closed. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking about how Jamie and Ned were probably at the pizzeria by now, talking about . . . what? How Jamie's cat sneezed at her and it ruined her life? Surely not about everything they'd talked about this afternoon getting him ready for his date. Surely Jamie didn't have the mental capacity to talk about anything other than herself.

You're not being fair to her, Sally's conscience whispered, sounding weirdly like a combination between Sarah and her own mother. Jamie, from what she'd observed, really wasn't all that self-centered; she was just overdramatic, and took every minor event to be a huge tragedy. But she did seem pretty sweet, and Sally was sure that Jamie might actually be a good match for Ned, because she was sympathetic to everything.

She sighed and tossed a flake of cereal to her cat, who was nudging at her hand for some food. She scratched him behind the ears, thinking about her friend.

Yeah, he might end up really liking Jamie. They might be able to get along. Sally picked up her cat and placed him on her chest, where he settled down, purring.

And she wasn't jealous about that . . . at all.

"So, what movie do you want to see?" Jamie asked, dipping her pizza crust into the leftover sauce on her plate. "Any preferences?"

Ned looked up, startled. He'd remembered them discussing a movie, but he'd forgotten. Wasn't dinner enough for one night? "Uh . . . well, I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't see one, since it's our first date and all." Oh man, he hadn't meant to say that. At least, not exactly like that.

Jamie was clearly taken aback, but she recovered quickly, though still blushing a bit. "Right. Sorry." She blinked back embarrassed tears, and Ned berated himself for being so rude. It wouldn't have killed him to sit through a movie, would it?

But now it was too late; anything he said now would just feel . . . fake. It was better not to say anything.

Jamie kept her eyes fixed on her napkin, which she was twisting around and around in her hands. He picked up a bottle cap from his soda and spun it around on the table, waiting for Jamie to speak, or for a meteor to hit them, or something.

The silence was now reaching epic proportions, and it took Ned everything he had to keep from saying something lame. He spun the bottle cap faster, and it went flying over to another table, where it skidded across the tabletop and landed in someone's pizza. He looked down quickly, but with nothing to distract him, he was again thinking of how uncomfortable the date had become.

Don't say anything lame. Don't say anything lame. Don't —

"You know, maybe we can go see a movie. I mean, why not live on the edge?"

That could not have been lamer. If there was an award for the lamest thing ever said, ever, he would win it, no contest. And judging from the incredulous way Jamie was looking at him, she would personally hand him the trophy.

"No. That's okay." She bit her lip, then blurted out, "Ned, do you like me?"

Ned had no idea how to answer that. How could he answer that? "I . . . I guess, yeah." He did, too; she was nice, she was cute, and she could be pretty funny when she wasn't overreacting (and often when she was, though that was unintentional).

"Do you like me as much as Sally?"

"Well, Sal's my best friend."

She frowned. "I don't mean like that."

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I know."

"Do you still like her . . . the way I like you?"

"Of course not!" He was so used to denying this to Sally and his friends at school that the lie slipped out of his mouth naturally. Jamie clearly didn't buy it, though, and after a moment he said, "Yeah. I think I do."

She didn't say anything for a few seconds. "Then I guess we're done, huh?" She was much calmer and quieter than he'd expected — if anything called for over-exaggerating, this was it.

"I guess so." They both stood up, and he placed some money on the table. "This was a nice date, though."

She nodded. "Bye." She brushed past him, walking quickly out of the restaurant. He waited until she was out of sight before leaving. The bottle cap he'd lost hit him in the back of the head on the way out.

Ned shook his head and looked up at the sky; he wasn't looking forward to explaining to Patrick how he'd managed to ruin the only date he'd ever had. And to Sarah . . . and Sally.

Sally.

"Ned?" Suddenly she was standing in front of him, her hands on her hips. "What are you still doing here?" She glanced over his shoulder, and her expression grew sympathetic. "Where's Jamie?"

"Gone. She . . . left."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Nah, don't be. I'm okay with it, really."

She put her hands on her hips, looking him up and down. Suddenly she took his hand and tugged him down the street, away from his house. "Come on," she said over her shoulder without slowing down. "The night isn't over yet, is it?"

"So it's all over, then?" Sally asked, sitting on her rock with her back against a tree. "You and her?"

He shrugged. "Looks like it." They were in the middle of Who Park, a large green area at the center of Whoville, complete with playgrounds, picnic tables, and every sports field anyone could want. Sally and Ned were on the very fringe of the park, watching several kids their age playing Whosketball on a nearby court.

"Are you okay?" Even in the dim light from the lampposts placed around the park, Ned could tell that she was giving him a worried look. "I mean . . . what happened?"

"I told her I didn't like her like that."

Sally whistled softly, looking up at the stars. "That might not have been the best time to reveal that."

"I guess not."

"Any reason why?"

"Why? I just . . . she's not my type." No way was he going to tell her the real reason.

"That's a shame," she said, then shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She cocked her head to the side and looked at him curiously. "Why, though? I mean . . . what's wrong with her?"

"Nothing! She's just not my type! Can't someone just not be your type?"

"I guess. . . ." She was still studying him, though, and it made him nervous. He cleared his throat and added, "And, you know, she's not . . . the smartest person out there."

It was true, and it did annoy him a little. And it was a good excuse — Sally of all people understood how important intelligence was.

Sally's eyebrows shot up, disappearing under her bangs. "Are you being a snob?" she asked.

"What? No!" So much for thinking she understood.

"I can't believe it. Ned Mcdodd, a snob." She was grinning, and he knew that she was only teasing, but it still bothered him. "You're not going to start getting snobby about other things, are you? I mean, does it start with intelligence and then move on to money and looks, until soon you're a super snob?"

"I'm not a snob!" he said, scrambling to his feet. He was getting way too worked up about this, but his night had sucked, and now Sally — his best friend — was calling him a jerk, just because he didn't like Jamie, someone he knew she couldn't stand. Talk about being hypocritical. "And I'll prove it!"

Her eyes were a little wide, but the grin didn't fade. "How?"

"I'll . . . I'll call Jamie back!" He crossed his arms and leaned back. How could she call him a snob after that, huh?

The smile slid off her face as she realized he was serious. "You're . . . going to call her again?" she asked hoarsely.

He nodded, squaring his jaw.

"But I thought you said you didn't like her. I thought you told her you didn't like her."

"Well, I'll tell her I've decided to give her another chance. Everyone deserves another chance, right?"

She glanced down at the ground, twisting her hands around one another. "I suppose," she murmured, but it didn't seem like she was thinking about Jamie. He didn't know what she was thinking about, but in that moment, she seemed miles away.

"In fact, I'll call her when I get home." He plopped back on the ground and gave her a "So there" look, which went totally to waste because she wasn't even looking at him.

"Okay." She finally did meet his gaze then, and gave him a small, fake-looking smile. "If that's what you really want."

Ned sat down on his bed later that evening, staring down at the bright red phone in his hand. He sighed and tossed it onto the floor, lying back and flinging an arm over his eyes.

Damn. Why did he open his stupid mouth and say he'd call Jamie back? He still didn't like her. He still liked Sally. And now he'd have to pretend to like poor Jamie, when it would never work out.

He was a jerk. Sally had been right. Maybe he wasn't a snob, but he was an idiot and a jerk.

But he'd said he would, and Sally was expecting him to.

He sat up with a groan and picked up the telephone, dialing Jamie's number before he could convince himself not to.

"Hello?" Jamie's voice sounded thick, like she had a bad cold.

"Jamie? It's Ned."

There was silence on her end of the phone for a long time. "What is it? Do I owe you money for dinner?"

"No! Of course not. I'd never . . . Listen. I want you to give me another chance."

"Why?"

"Because I think . . . well, I think I spoke a little hastily before. I think we ought to try one more time."

"I don't know. . . ."

"Please. Just one date. And you can choose when and where. I'll even pick you up."

She took a shaky breath. "O-okay. I guess one more date couldn't hurt."

"Thank you, Jamie! You won't regret it, I promise!" And he meant it — even though he didn't think he'd enjoy it for a second, he was going to make sure she did. He owed that much to her, at least.

And maybe he'd have fun, too. Maybe.

"How about tomorrow, around three o'clock?"

"I'll see you then. Bye." He hung up, and immediately dialed Sally's number, barely even looking at the keys.

"Hi! This is the O'Malleys."

"Sal?"

"Hey, Ned." The chipperness was gone from her voice almost instantly, though she faked it pretty well. "What's up?"

"I did it."

"You . . . you did?"

He nodded, though she couldn't see him. "Yep, and we're going out again tomorrow."

"Wow! That's . . . great. I'm happy for you."

"Yeah. It is."

"So where are you going?"

"I don't know; she didn't say."

"Ah. Well, I hope you have fun."

"Thanks." There was an awkward silence, where both of them waited for the other to speak.

"I should get going," Sally said eventually.

"Oh, yeah, me too."

"Bye."

"See you."

He hung up, feeling a little sick. There was something up with Sally, and he didn't know what it was. He didn't know what to do about it, either.

Maybe she was just hormonal. That had to be it. Some weird girl thing . . . maybe it was the full moon turning girls into moody, confusing wolves. Were all girls werewhos, perhaps?

Then again, she wasn't the only one feeling less than perfect. Maybe he was one, too. That would explain the pressure in his chest and the knot in his stomach. Maybe he was turning into a werewho.

He stood up and looked at the mirror on the floor. One of his sisters had brought it in and forgot to take it back again.

He didn't have any more fur than usual or claws growing out of his fingers. He pulled back his lips; no fangs sticking out of his mouth, either.

Ned went back to his bed and opened up the window above it. The moon was hanging, large and full, over the park. He tilted his head back and howled.

"I AM A WEREWHO!" he shouted, feeling some of the pressure in his chest ebb. There was something therapeutic about screaming out into the night, when no one was on the streets. "I AM A WEREWHO!"

The door opened behind him, and he turned to see his mother standing in the doorway with a glass of water in one hand.

"I thought you'd like something to drink," she said with a smile.

He nodded, blushing, and she handed him the glass. "Thanks," he said, closing the window hastily.

His mother shook her head and laughed. "You're not a werewho, you know," she said with a wink. "Just a teenager. If that makes you feel any better. Goodnight, honey."

"Right," he mumbled, embarrassed. She ruffled his hair and left. Once she was gone, he opened the window again.

"I AM A TEENAGER!" he yelled as loud as he could.

"SO AM I!" someone else replied, making him jump. It seemed to be coming from a few houses down, but he didn't recognize the voice.

"HEY, ME TOO!"

Suddenly there was a chorus of voices, screaming and howling into the night. They all seemed intent on being the loudest, and the sound was deafening. Ned couldn't help but laugh at what he'd caused. Then he wondered if Sally could hear it.

Eventually someone told them to shut up, and Ned finally closed his window and fell asleep.

A/N: Huh. So there ya go (here's your sign). It's . . . writing. And words. And considering it took three months to write, writing and words is pretty damn good. Anyway, I have NO IDEA what's coming next, so that'll be an adventure for ALL of us! Yay!

Thanks to: -JinneySkellington, who emailed me telling me to update until I felt guilty enough to actually do it.

-Zeakari, for her art that I always look at when I need to feel inspired (nice Ned pictures, by the way. They're very helpful).

-jstewartsintern, who came up with the concept of the werewho ( h t t p : / / j s t e w a r t s i n t e r n . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / a r t / A T T A C K - O F - T H E - W E R E W H O - 8 1 2 0 3 6 4 1 ). Not that I can contact her or thank her or anything, but still. (Hey, if any of my readers are deviants, could you thank her for me? I feel bad using her "creation" without her being thanked).

See you next chapter . . . whenever that'll be!