Disclaimer: We do not claim to own James Cameron's Avatar or the LN user Duma's characters or plot.
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SPORKED BY TI AND SW9
BECAUSE IT WAS THAT CRAP.
NO NOT THAT CRAP. WORSE
(TI: the random bits of humour in the pop up bits is me... what you think SW9 has a sense of humour??)
Life and reality officially sux
THUMP…THUMP…THUMP went the multi-colored bouncy ball that my Dad gave me when I was 10 as I threw it against the wall in front of me. A small area was indented into the wall after years of my ball going against it. I only throw it when something was bugging or frustrating me. Ant this was no exception.
(SW9: Wait. What is that wall made out of? Better yet: What is that ball made out of? Adimantium?
TI: meh... in soviet Russia ball is wall... no not funny..... maybe he’s got a multicoloured ball made out of some as of yet unknown invicible rubber compound that can never exsist..)
I glared at this indent as I throw the ball again. THUMP. I frowned and sighed explosively.
(SW9: Okay, if he sighed explosively then why is he still alive?)
“I can’t write to save my life”, I growled softly. THUMP. Finally done with punishing the wall for my anger, I put the ball on the desk next to my bed and laid down. Great, I thought as I put my hands behind my head, Shakespeare could writeRomeo and Juliet, Paolini could write Eragon, but i can't write a f***ing book report[Grammar Owned: 3]??[/desc] Only silence answered my call.
(SW9: A kid, of an unknown age, is comparing writing a book/play to writing a report?! What the hell?! Also, putting Christopher Paolini and William Shakespeare on the same level doesn’t work. Paolini, though I like his work, isn’t an excellent author.
TI: Shakespeare like sanity is overrated in my honest opinion but.....)
I sighed again. Ms. Carter decided to give every class she had a book report to do over Winter Break that was coming up. But you’d think that being a strait A kid and being the teacher’s favorite would grant you immunity from a torture every High Schooler hated. Nope. Darik was right, I thought as I glanced at the alarm block on the nightstand on the other side of my bed, no matter how nice or friendly he or she is, teachers are evil and rotten to the core.
(SW9: ANGSTY EMO TEEN ALERT! WOOP WOOP! Also, “alarm block”? Exactly what is that? Do they taste good?
TI: alarm block: when you can’t write an alarm... like writers block but less nasty)
“ASH NICKOLAS BLACKSTONE!”, I heard my mother screech, “You get your @$$ down hear this INSTANT!”
(SW9: First, apostrophe fail. Second, what kind of name is Ash Nickolas Blackstone? Are we in the land of Elves now? Third, pathetic censoring is pathetic.
TI: Now now it could be worse he could have used something l ike bottom and been nice... or he could of used ass, although random bit of info an ass is a donkey)
I flinched, then slowly got up off my bed with a groan, opened the door, and walked towards the stairs. You could never determine if it was a your-in-trouble-mister call or an I-need-your-help call, but you know you’ve pissed off the bull when your parent uses your full name.
(SW9: From what I am getting his parents use the full name ultimatum when they need his help as well as when he is in trouble. Also, apparently he can’t detect emotions through tone of voice.)
“What is this?”, my mom said in a disturbing calm tone. She was holding up a dirty bowl in front of her. My face stayed neutral, but I broke into a sweat. Me and Darik used the same bowl earlier to do the old Mentos and Coke experiment….Lets just say we won’t be trying anything like that again anytime soon.
“I—”, I started to say weakly.
(TI: weakly... what he’s bleeding to death from the wounds inflicted by his mother’s words? Man that’s pathetic)
“Don’t”, she said, shaking her head, “just don’t. I do not want to hear what you have to say, Ash.”
She set the bowl down on the counter, leaned against the sink, and folded her arms, glaring at me.Oh, crap, hear it comes.
“How many times do I have to say this, Ash? You are [Grammar Owned: 11]suppose[/desc] to put all the dirty dishes in the washer.” She tapped the brand new washing machine she had installed last week.
I froze for a second, then inside I sighed with relief. Mom was the Manager of the Blue Cross, Blue Shield downtown. It was a great thing. My mom gets a huge [Grammar Owned: 13]paycheck[/desc], which is what let her install the washer. But ever since she saw a guy come in through the front doors of the building covered head to toe in blood 3 years ago, she’s been squeamish around anything filthy. She has a maid come in every week to clean the house, and when she wasn’t there, mom expected me to clean every dish in existence just so she didn’t have to see filth every time she passes the sink.
(SW9: Okay, the mom’s phobia of filth [Rhypophobia for those interested] makes no sense. She should have a fear of blood [Hemaphobia] if anything.)
I stood on one foot, then the other, just to make it seem that I was still nervous, although I already knew I was in the clear. “Does this mean I’m still in trouble?”, I asked.
She glared at me for another second, then sighed and unfolded her arms, her eyes taking a more sympathetic look. “No, but I’m warning you only one more time. I see another dish”, she pointed at the bowl next to her, “like that not in the washer, I’ll be grounding you for Gods knows how long. Alright?”
Of course I wasn’t alright with being grounded for months on end, but I said “ok” just so she wouldn’t get on my back.
“ I will be grounding you, though, for the entire time your at you're dad’s.”
(SW9: Oh my gods.... The last grammar two grammar fails... *curls up into a ball*)
My head was down, so of course it snapped up. My eyes grew wide in panic. “ But mom! It’s Christmas Madness on Live all weekend! I cant miss that. It’s just a stupid bowl.”
“And they are my stupid rules. You will follow them when you are in this house and you will pay for the consequences of your actions.”
(SW9: Okay, this mom is awful. Being grounded for who knows how long over a dirty bowl? Also, she insulted her own rules...
TI: man.... what’s next? Locked in the cellar for not eating your greens?)
“But nothing.” , she said, cutting me off for the second time that night. She wagged her finger at me like she use to when I was little. “You are grounded, and that is final. Now go get washed up. We are having Chinese tonight.”
(SW9: Okay, what parent wags her finger at a teen ager? It’s really becoming harder to make fun of this...
TI: one after a little action....)
I looked at her one more time with pleading eyes, but it was obvious she wasn’t going to change her mind. My shoulders sagged in defeat as I shuffled towards our downstairs bathroom. Now how are I and Darik going to enjoy our vacation? ‘Oh, and honey, to top off your grounding, we are having your favorite take-out for dinner. Hope that takes away the pain of not getting to do anything during Winter Break’. That’s it. Life officially sux.
(SW9: “sux”? Seriously, “sux”? What. The. Hell.
TI: hey just because he finds 4 letter words hard to spell doesn’t mean that we should... oh wait
*quotes the guy who wrote this crap* “EPIC FAIL”)
After an agonizing dinner with the devil’s wife, I ran upstairs to brush my teeth. Before I left the bathroom, I looked myself over in the mirror. Same old brown hair, blue eyes, and tall stature. I was really tall for a 15-year-old, (half an inch from 6’1), and I was glad. Most of the bullies at school were shorter then me, and for some reason that gave me a command over them. I smirked at the memory of T.J. getting an atomic wedgy from Connor that popped into my head. But the smirk left just as fast as it came. The book report. Damn.
(TI: damn... it’s like... Damn i just found out i’m gay!)
Oh well, I thought as I got into my room and did a flying tackle to my bed, I’ll just do it over vacation. Not like I’ll be doing anything else. I rolled my eyes and looked up at the Avatar poster on my ceiling.
I smiled wolfishly. The movie has been out for only a year, but I still think that it was f***ing awesome. But I always forget something, like how Neytiri sounds or what exactly happened during the destruction of Hometree, and for that odd reason, what I forget only makes the movie better the next time I see it.
I glanced at the scattered papers on my desk, one reading Na’vi Language. Maybe Darik was right when he said I was too obsessed with the movie. Nah, I thought,you’re a real skxawng for not trying the language, Darik. That was my last thought befor I fell asleep.
….White, blinding light dominated my entire vision. I couldn’t feel or do anything, like someone had strapped me to the wall. I heard multiple voices overlapping each other, and I couldn’t understand a thing they were saying. The light and the growing loudness of the voices was really starting to hurt my head, But then a female voice of timeless age spoke, quieting the others. Come, my child, come…come….
(TI: woah man get off the drugs it’s bad for you... try some chocolate instead... come on! Come come come come come come come come..... i want to lick you)
I woke in a cold sweat, breathing hard, my heart racing. I grabbed at my chest as if my heart was about to break out of my ribs. I tried to slow my breathing. What the hell was that?, I asked myself. Only silence answered. I’ve never had a dream like that before. I let go of my chest and looked at the clock on my desk. 2:30. I groaned and flopped back onto my bed, entirely forgetting the dream. Scratch what I said before. Now life and reality officially sux.
(TI: hey wait... de ja vu? What? No new line? Wanted some extra words or something?
*mental image of author while writing this section*”must write extra words... must write but i like failing... hmm i know.. *Copies and pastes* no one will ever notice...)
« Last Edit: May 18, 2010, 04:23:59 pm by SonicWolf9 »
My dad goes Dr.Phil on me
(SW9: We begin this crap storm with not only a random scene change that leaves the reader utterly confused, since nothing about this trip was mentioned last chapter, but a very unoriginal title that I feel will make no sense whatsoever.)
I looked out the window next to me on the plane, listening to Darik chomp away at peanuts in the background.
(TI: looking out a window looking at the world, listening to Darik chomping on peanuts... sounds real fun [/sarcasm])
I was glad that I was finally away from the stress and tension that was always between me and my mother these days. She could of fooled you with all the tears and hugs she gave me back in the little airport the community hade built a wile back.
(SW9: So a community, which probably isn’t that big, got together and built a regulation airport by hand? I would have loved to see that.)
(TI: Must... build... airport... out... of... Lego...)
“Now you call me every day when you get the chance, ok?”, she said between sobs.
“Of course I’ll call you mom. I always do.”
“Well I just want you to remember, ok?” She bear hugged me before I could give her an answer.
Darik was a few paces away, rolling his eyes like he always did when my mother started to act up. His parents didn’t do that kind of thing to him. In fact, they couldn’t, cause they had left two hours earlier to take a week-long vacation on some cruise ship. Darik had nowhere else to go, since the cruise was only for adults, so my dad offered him a stay at his place for the holidays.
(SW9: Another child with parents who probably should be reported to the Child Protective Services. Lovely. Also, does he not have grandparents? Or is spontaneous generation actually true?)
(TI: I ate the grandparents.)
Darik’s parents jumped at the opportunity, which only confirmed my suspicions: that both families were happy for us to finally be gone, we were great kids, we get A’s in school, and they love us to death.
(SW9: Ah, good old wangst. You’ll never let me down!)
“Hey dude”, Darik said, interrupting my thoughts, “Did you bring your 360?”
I looked at him and smirked. “You know I was grounded from everything for the entire vacation, right?”
“Yeah, but did you? ”, he said, winking at me and playfully nudging me in the ribs.
(TI: I carry my Xbox all over the place; it’s like the new GameBoy.)
(SW9: That’s gotta hurt… Really, more needs to be said here but my mind is breaking.)
I smirked again, and he smirked too.
(SW9: It’s a smirk fest! Who will be the smirkiest? Whose parents will stop being douches first? When will the author stop sucking? Why am I talking in continuous questions? … … … I’m losing it…)
We were both thinking the same thing. You see, my dad was a sucker for sympathy. I told him about my “death sentence” yesterday afternoon and when I was done he had said, “I guess I’ll just have to go by her rules”, but I knew that the silly, jack-@$$ tone he was using meant he wasn’t going to. He was always being rebellious of my mother’s rules since their divorce 4 years ago, especially when it came to her paranoia towards filth.
(SW9: Which still makes no sense.)
I knew without him saying it that he agreed that grounding me for forgetting to put a stupid bowl in the washer was a bit harsh.
(SW9: Letting people read this story’s harsh.)
(TI: Our survey suggests that 11/10 people commit suicide after reading this. The extra one was the person doing the survey.)
We both held up our fists. We said “oh rah!” at the same time and pounded it.
(SW9: Congratulations! You just insulted marines everywhere! I hope they kill you!)
(TI: isn’t it OOH-RAH!?)
(SW9: It’s more “WHO-RAH” really.)
“Now if you’ll excuse me”, I said, “I’d like to upgrade my good mood with some Shinedown”.
(SW9: Okay, first: How do you upgrade a good mode? Second: Who?)
He did a guitar-solo action, wildly bobbing his head up and down. “Rock on, brother!”
(SW9: What… The… Hell…)
(TI: ROCK ON MAN!! I WANNA SING SOME OBSCURE BAND BECAUSE I’M GAY LIKE THAT)
I nodded and got my headphones out of my bag. Before I could put them on, a hot flight attendant
(SW9: Because every flight attendant is hot. I despise using that word in
that manner, by the way.)
(TI: WHAT IS THIS GUY?? Is he one of those people who think anything with two legs and a skirt is hot?)
came by and asked Darik, “would you like some peanuts, sir?”
(TI: so you just get picked out and offered peanuts eh?)
(SW9: Why is it always peanuts? Can’t it be water, or juice, or trail mix for once?)
“I’d love some!” I shook my head and closed my eyes. I heard some rustling of plastic bags and a quiet “thank you” from my friend.
Maybe I should start calling him the Pillsbury dough boy
I turned on my IPOD and selected “the sound the madness” , letting Shinedown blow my brains out.
”Yeah I get that you’re an outcast,
Always under attack, always coming in last,
Bring up the past, no one owes you anything…
I think, you need a shotgun blast, a kick in the @$$,
So paranoid, watch your back!
…Alright, hear we go…
(SW9: Seriously? You just stuck in some very emo, very wangsty lyrics to lengthen the chapter? You, kid, are a terrible author.)
“Dude, I swear, if I have to hear another ‘do you want this, sir’ or ‘do you want that, sir’, I’m going to blow a fuse” .
(SW9: “I’m going to blow a fuse”… I haven’t heard that figure of speech in a long time… And this author is just a kid…)
(TI: I JUST BLEW A FUSE... AND LOST THE GAME)
(SW9: DARN IT, TI!)
We had just gotten out of the gate our plane landed in.
(SW9: It landed in the gate? Apparently, your characters have just survived a plane crash.)
(TI: WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SPLAT!)
I had left Darik to go to the bathroom while I went to Dunk’s to get some iced coffee.
(SW9: Okay, this is Grammar Owned 20. Did your character go to the bathroom or go get iced coffee? Speaking of which, that is the stupidest idea ever. Coffee is supposed to be hot. It’s like caffeinated hot chocolate. You don’t drink hot chocolate cold.)
Once I got back from some iced goodness-in-a-cup, Darik was staring at the national monument that stood for New york.
(SW9: … What? “…the national monument that stood for New york” … Again, what?)
I nudged his shoulder. “Dude”.
“what? Oh, yeah I heard you, dude”, he said without even turning.
(SW9: Okay, Ash never said anything to him so why is he expecting his to respond?)
(TI: Psychic powers maybe?)
“I don’t really pay attention to what they say. I just like to stare at their—“.
“Yeah, I know what you like to stare at”, I said sarcastically, “I’m the one who taught you to check out girls”.
(SW9: So Derik was gay? That’s interesting. So that’s what you ment. *facepalm* Congratulations! You just insulted all of New York and any self-respecting female! Good luck getting a girlfriend.)
“Yeah….”, he said, drifting. A few seconds went by before he said, “Dam, that is one big-@$$ green lady”.
(SW9: Okay, who invited the Green Skinned Space Babe from Star Trek?)
“Statue of Liberty. Seriously dude, you need to pay attention in history class”.
(SW9: … Words cannot describe how I feel… *sits down in a corner*)
(TI: WTF is this guy’s fetish with statues?)
Darik tore his gaze away from the “big-@$$ green lady” with eyes wide as he held up his hands in defense.. “Hey, it isn’t my fault Ms. Dicaro is so boring that I fall asleep”.
(SW9: Okay, either stop “censoring” the curses or leave them out entirely. Also, who doesn’t know about the Statue of Liberty? They might not know about its past or the fact that there are three of them but they should still know what it is.)
I looked at him with a eyebrow raised, but I had to give him credit for being Wright.
(SW9: OBJECTION!!! Phoenix Wright has nothing to do with this!)
Ms. Dicaro was well into her 70’s, and to top it off, she’s suffering Alzheimer's disease.
(SW9: I’m pretty sure no self-respecting school would let a person like that teach.)
She started a class once and in mid-sentence fell asleep, which started a riot of 6th graders parading around the school in their underwear.
(SW9: A Noodle Incident… Interesting. Also, people do not fall asleep mid-sentence standing up.)
(TI: I’ve fallen asleep mid-sentence, and fallen asleep while standing up but only one at a time)
You don’t want to know what happened in the end but needless to say I was surprised she kept her job.
(SW9: She shouldn’t have a job in the first place.)
(TI: This seems perfectly normal, yep perfectly normal and plausible [/sarcasm])
He shook his head wildly. “Are we suppose to be waiting for your dad or something?”
“Nah, I’m just waiting for you to get you brains back”.
He lightly punched me in the shoulder, but I knew he was joking. “seriously man” .
“Ok, ok”. Now it was my turn to raise my hands in defense. ” dad won’t be able to pick us up, so we’ll be getting a cab”.
(SW9: I accepted two unattended minors on an airplane but just barely. I pretty sure two minors can catch a cab in New York but still…)
Dad worked late as a construction worker, and they have been working on a project for the past 2 months on a new building. I won’t be surprised if I don’t see him at all tonight. “Come on”.
We walked off following the signs that would lead us to the front doors of the airport.
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CHAPTER 2 PART 2
(SW9: There should either be something here to detonate a scene change; like a hyphen [-], asterisk mark (*), or underscore (_), or you should have ended the chapter.)
I got the key under the mat and unlocked the door to my dad’s apartment.
(SW9: Well that’s an incredibly obvious hiding spot…)
(TI: it’s not his fault his imagination sucks... or should i say sux)
I went in with my friend trailing behind, looking around in awe. He was used to my mom’s house, which was pretty high tech. But dad’s place was a whole different story. All he had for a “house” was 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, and a living room.
(SW9: That’s a pretty nice house for a “house”.)(TI: Pretty standard i have friends who live in worse)
(SW9: Hey, I’d be happy in a “house” like that.)
Everything but the three plasma’s was low tech., from the microwave to the insulation.
(SW9: A low tech microwave and insulation? Microwaves haven’t really changed all that much. As for insolation? I definitely wouldn’t call what just about everyone uses high tech.)
The plasma’s I have no idea how he got them, but I could really care less.
(SW9: Oh, come on! You don’t even bother explaining how a guy who somehow has low tech microwaves and insolation has three plasma TVs, a Xbox 360, an unknown number of games, and Xbox Live?! Most Middle Class people can’t afford one plasma TV [which has kinda given way to Liquid Crystal Display, by the way]!)
(TI: I still don’t know WTF a low-tech microwave is... Does it run off steam power?)
And with a glance at the one in the living room confirmed that my dad was still at large
(SW9: “…at large”? So he’s a criminal now? That explains the TVs…)
with the ODST firefight thing.
(TI: which is like a crap Nazi zombies but worse)
I took a deep breath and the smell of cologne, wood chips, and rotting rug filled my nostrils.
(SW9: I shall pretend that this list makes sense.)
I exhaled and smiled. O yeah, it was good to be home.
(SW9: Another line break or chapter stop belongs here. You’ve heard of a run-on sentence? This is a run-on chapter.)
I murmured a “woof”, indicating that I was stuffed senseless with mike’s pizza.
(SW9: What… The… Hell…)
(TI: The genetic experiment was a success Ash is now a dog)
I was laying on the under-stuffed couch, watching Darik get his [Censoring Owned: 5]@$$[/desc] kicked at HALO 3 multiplayer by some online people, waiting my turn. I would have installed my 360 into my room with the plasma in there, help humiliate Darik some more,
(SW9: Well Ash is the greatest friend ever isn’t he? Doesn’t help that he’s a god at Halo and a major Marty Stu.)
(TI: I could kill him. With both hands tied behind my back)
but after eating so much of mike’s pizza I decided otherwise.
Holding up the note dad left on the counter for me, I re-read it to make sure I didn’t miss or mess up anything.
It’s great that you’ll be staying with me for winter break. I can’t wait to see you. I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up today. Tensions aready as high as it is.
(SW9: Hurray for simple sentences! For when you suck so much at writing you can’t give people something interesting to read.)
Since the bulldozing incident, My boss has been on a firing streak and there is no end in sight to it. If I were to take the day off, I’d be sure to expect my position filled the next time I go to work. But I’ll make it up to you. Under this letter is $30.
(SW9: Once again, pulling money from nowhere.
(TI: money grows on trees in the USA... Right?)
(SW9: I wish.)
Use it to get something from mike’s.
(SW9: Did you ever make it past kindergarten grammar?)
(TI: Doubt it)
I heard that they have a new topping that you might like. I’ll try to get home as soon as I can, although I don’t knoe if I’ll be forced to do a late shift. Love you.
P.S. If I get back soon enough, I’ll help you kick Darik’s @$$. Easy pray.
P.S.S. Do you mind helping me with your Na’Vi language? I’ve been working at it but haven’t gotten gone anywhere with it.
(SW9: P.S. stands for “Post Scriptum”. Which Latin for “After Writing”. So what you used there was “Post Scriptum Scriptum” when you wanted “Post Post Scriptum”.)
I smiled at the letter. It was a bit shocking to hear that he was learning the language too. He didn’t show much interest in Avatar when I forced him to go see it with me in the IMAX in July. In fact, he looked so bored with it that I think he fell asleep once during the movie. To hear that he was learning Na’vi made me happy for him.
“Eat it. EAT IT!” Darik’s taunt interrupted my thoughts. “Yeaahh. I’M THE JUGGERNAUT B****!”
Immediately a sniper took him down. Dom’s voice came through, “Next time, don’t taunt so loudly. I might of left you alone if you did”.
I started to crack up. “sniped” was all I could get out before I fell of the couch laughing.
(TI: How funny is this? Answer: Not funny)
“that was classic!”, I said with tears in my eyes.
Darik frowned and through the controller at me. “ Fine, Mr. Hotshot, lets see you do better”. I just grinned as we switched places.
My dad got home at the exact same time the session was over. He didn’t say anything at first, which was good cause I wanted to rub in my victory a little.
Darik just stared at the screen, looking at the scores. “How…the hell…do you do it?”, he asked, mouth open with shock.
(SW9: BECAUSE HE’S A MARTY STU! They are good at everything they need to be!)
‘ It’s called patience”,
(SW9: IT’S CALLED BEING A MARTY STU!)
I sneered as I poked him in the chest, “The more you practice, the better you get”.
“He’s right you know”, Dom chimed in, “At the beginning of the year he s***ed, now he is owning everyone”.
(TI: SHOOT THE HALO ADDICT. NOW)
(SW9: Oh… my… god… YOU CENSORED SUCKS?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! STOP WRITING! JUST STOP! YOU ARE A DISGRACE AMONG WRITERS! I’M SURPRISED YOU MANAGED TO EVEN GET PAST THE SECOND GRADE WITH YOUR SPELLING AND GRAMMAR! THIS STORY IS SH*T! YOU ARE SH*T! SO JUST, DO EVERYONE A FAVOUR AND STOP! F*CKING! WRITING!)
(TI: Look at what you have done... Three thousand small children were eaten as a result of this outburst which YOU caused)
“Well then”, My dad’s deep voice broke in, “
He’s going to get a rude awakening, cause I’ve been practicing”.
I froze for a second. (who knew that such a big man could move so quietly?) The next second, I had the controller down, jumping over the couch, and bear hugging him all in one motion. “dad, I missed you!”
Hey, me too kid”. He hugged me back, then pushed me back and had his hands on my shoulders, looking me over with a prideful look. “Dam you’ve gotten big! What have they been feeding you, artificial growth hormones?”
“I only wish, dad”, I said, grinning up at the colossal figure that was my father. The guy was 5 inches taller then me and much more bulkier in muscle. He could make Mike Tyson and Hulk Hogan go cry for their mommies, which is ironic considering that I’ve been called Mike Tyson ever since I punched T.J.’s lights out at school last December.
(SW9: THIS ISN’T IRONIC! AND HE’S STILL AN WANGSTY MARTY STU!)
(TI: Ego exceeding maximum size. Please kill the subject who wrote this pile of egotistical SH*T)
For some reason my dad’s features went from pride to worried. “You ok, son? You look a bit pale”.
“I’m fine, dad”.
“You sure?” He held a hand to my forehead. “No temp….”
I swatted away his hand. “I’m ok, dad. Really”. When did my dad go from God of War to Dr. Phil all of a sudden?
(SW9: Doctor Phil isn’t a doctor of medicine! He’s a psychiatrist and not a very good one either!)
He looked at we for another moment before he cracked a smile. “I must be seeing things, Ash. Sorry kiddo, my bad. You just looked sick for a moment there”. He shook his head and looked over my shoulder. “So, who’s kicking who’s @$$?”
“Me, naturally”, I said as I smirked, but it was a fake smirk. I’ve known my dad forever, and I knew when he was actually happy or when he was just faking it for the relatives, and right know I could tell when he was still worried about me.
But I tried to put it out of my mind. I pointed at the fridge. “We left some dinner for you in case you were hungry”.
“Thanks kid, I’m starved! ”, he roared. Then he laughed and started for the kitchen, only to stop and point at Darik as he grabbed the controller. “Don’t start just yet. I want to help Ash humiliate your @$$ on some HALO before I turn in for the night.
“My thoughts, exactly”, I said and laughed. My dad joined me. Darik just pouted like a 6-year-old.
(SW9: This story would have been better if it were written by a six year old.)
(TI: or me.)
I loved it when my dad acted more friend then father.
(SW9: Which actually isn’t a very good idea. Otherwise you run the risk of your child not listening to you because s/he sees you as a friend and not a figure of authority.)
(SW9: Yet ANOTHER line break or chapter end.)
« Last Edit: July 01, 2010, 01:20:49 pm by SonicWolf9 »
CHAPTER 2 PART 3
Boom! Went my shotgun as I took out another noob on live.
“Owned”, I murmured.
I wasn’t really paying attention to the match. It was just to get the things I’ve been thinking about out of my head.
It wasn’t really working.
My dad had been annoying me ever since he got home. He didn’t voice his worries, but I could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was still wondering if I was sick or not. I couldn’t be. I looked the same at mom’s house as did hear. If my mom had noticed something, should would of voiced her worries as well.
I frowned, remembering how my dad had kept looking at me to make sure I wouldn’t collapse or something.
I swear, he watches that stupid Dr. Phil show too much.
(SW9: Yeah! A father shouldn’t be worried about his son’s health! What’s wrong with him! [/sarcasm])
I sighed, then got up and turned off the 360 that was in my room. HALO just wasn’t helping my nerves.
I got into my bed, but I didn’t want to go to sleep because of the other thing that was bugging me. I had another weird dream of that female voice again. But this time I was able to yell out, ”Who are you?” she actually replied to my shout. Calm, my child, she had said, you will see all soon….. then I woke.
(SW9: Oh god… Eywa talked to him…)
(TI: whoa ho ho it’s MAGIC!)
I covered my face with my hands and groaned. Whatever was causing these bizarre dreams, I really wanted them to stop.
(SW9: FINALLY! IT’S OVER! That was five chapters in one. I have a feeling that the next ones are going to be the same way. Well, time for the tally:
CHAPTER 2 TALLY:
GRAMMAR OWNED: 101 (SW9: Oh my god!) (TI: damn good thing I’m not the one counting these grammar owned... I would of committed suicide by now)
SPELLING OWNED: 8
CENSORING OWNED: 9
SPACING OWNED: 1
LYRICS OWNED: 2
GRAMMAR OWNED: 126
CLOCK OWNED: 1
TELEPATHY OWNED: 1
SPELLING OWNED: 10
CENSORING OWNED: 10