Dragon Warrior

[size=1]I am very sorry I have been absent for this lately. The end of my college semester is rounding the corner, so I've been pretty busy. I hope to write chapter four up tomorrow, so expect it possibly then. If not, then later this weekend :] Thanks.[/size]

[size=1]Woah, this is getting crazy :] What's even going on anymore? You weren't kidding when you told me on AIM it got intense and people got their bodily fluids splattered everywhere. As much as I love 8Bit's character, the death seemed appropriate. But you're a bastard anyway :P[/size]

[size=1]Oh my, thanks :] I didn't expect such a large group of readers. I'm flattered. I'll try not to disappoint! I plan to make this pick up a lot from here on. The getting is getting good.[/size] [center][b]Chapter Three: Hot Assassins & Hot Action[/b][/center] [size=1]Ah, I had you guys fooled, didn’t I? I’m such a dick. I didn’t get shot, so you can all descend from the edge of your seats back into a comfortable reclining position. The gunshot happened to come from the left direction. If one were to turn their head in said direction, they’d find a smoking barrel attached to a gun in the hand of a rather hot woman. I mean, this girl was damn fine. And you’d be lucky to even look at her. The guy who got shot—he wasn’t so lucky; mainly because he was shot. Duh. The gun against my head slowly slid down my side with the limp arm of the fellow who was now very much dead. He collapsed to the floor like a cheap stripper drunk off her ass and the two brainless thugs accompanying him stood dumbfounded. One managed to mutter words. “She hurt the boss.” “Yeah,” the other replied. “She hurt him dead.” They suddenly took out guns, as if they had a chance. The hot girl put a few new breathing holes in their faces and they were on their knees faster than my ex. I gently shoved them and they fell dead on the pavement. The girl who could easily be mistaken for some goddess of sexual pleasures approached me and pointed her gun. “Get out of that bag now. We don’t have time.” I didn’t ask questions, but instead did what she said. I mean, c’mon! She was hot. I embarrassingly stumbled out of the bag, getting my foot caught once or twice, then finally gained my balance. I looked to her and noticed her scanning the horizon. I was very confused. “What are you looking for?” I asked. Probably her soulmate. I’m right here, baby. “Shut up and follow me.” She took off at a sprint, one which there was no way in hell I could keep up with. Nevertheless, I followed. We took a sharp corner and I was suddenly face to face with a very nice piece of machinery. I stood in awe. “Is that a crotch rocket?” “Is there a problem?” she asked, stripping down to a tight leather cycle suit. I shook my head slowly. “Not at all.” God damnit, I love this woman. “Put this on,” she commanded, tossing me a helmet. “You’ll need it. We’re going fast.” I got on what we’d call the “bitch seat” and made myself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you can be while having your junk smashed against a thin layer of leather covering a hard piece of metal that was in no way intended for a male to sit on. “Put your arms around my waist and hold on.” I had no problem with that! The crotch rocket took off at an amazing speed. The babe wasn’t kidding. It felt as though my organs all shifted to my backside. I clung for dear life. The ride was very rough and bumpy. It’s as if she was attempting to hit every rut and rock along the way. My manhood would vouch for that. After what I’m sure was a good century, we finally parked near an old warehouse by the docks. We dismounted and I rubbed my sore parts. She removed her helmet and looked at me. “You alright?” “Yeah,” I winced. “Just give me a second to find my balls.” The super model woman of my dreams approached the door to the warehouse and unlocked it. “Try not to be too shocked by what’s in here,” she warned. Putting a bit of effort into it, she shoved the door open with her body and went in. I limped in after. She flicked the lights on and I saw a very large, empty warehouse. “Oh, wow,” I said sarcastically. “I haven’t seen one of these before. Is that—oh my God! It is! An empty warehouse! Well, fuck Uncle Sam, now that’s something.” She ignored me and approached a switch on the wall. Upon pushing it, the whole warehouse shook and I began to become as frightened as I was when I first watched Roseanne. The walls started to shift about and out of nowhere guns began to appear of all kinds. When everything stopped moving, it was as if I was standing in a very large gun shop. For the second time in the past hour, I stood in awe. “Smart ass,” she mumbled. She then grabbed one of the largest guns and started to load it. “Wait, who are you?” I finally asked. It seemed like the appropriate time. “My name is Naomi. I’m here to protect you, Kensley.” “Oh, thank God, someone knows my name. I was about to go to court and friggin’ legally change it.” “You’ve gotten yourself into a mess of trouble,” she continued professionally. “And I have to try and get you out. But first, we need to find you a safe place to be.” “Alright, sounds good, sounds good.” I didn’t actually know that I just replied to anything. I will admit, I was staring at her breasts that whole time. “Do you know of any places that are safe and that no one knows about?” “I don’t think so.” “No secret houses somewhere? No getaway flats by the beach? No wives in other states?” “I work at a newsstand,” I said flatly. “Do you know anyone who has somewhere you can stay?” Reggie naturally came to mind, and with that, a possibility. “My friend Reggie. His folks have a cabin in the country. They’re not using it. I could probably get it.” She finished loading the large gun and nodded. “Can you get ahold of him?” “If his fat ass isn’t watching Thundercats.” I flipped open my cell phone and pushed speed dial. In seconds, Reggie could be heard. “Reggie can’t come to the phone right now. He’s too busy getting sucked off by your mom. Oooohhh, ha! Just kidding. What’s up, shithead?” I winced at his horrific profanity. “Hey, I need a favor.” “What’d I tell you about favors?” Reggie’s voice echoed from the phone. “Reggie, I…” “I am a no-favor-man, Kens. Favors are what get you shanked in The Yard. You do someone a favor in prison, then they expect more and more until BAM! You wake up in the middle of the night with a shiv crammed in your kidney. I’m no jailbait, you hairy bastard.” “Reggie, listen for a friggin’ second. I need your parents’ cabin.” “Say what? We havin’ a party?” “No, we’re not,” I replied. Naomi looked over at me impatiently. “Can you hurry?” she asked. “Who was that?” came Reggie’s voice. “Are you with a girl?” “Yes,” I said reluctantly. “Oh yeah? She hot?” “Reggie…” “What’s her name?” His voice sounded giddy. I looked over at her before responding softly. “Naomi.” “Naomi?!” Reggie’s voice screamed. “Oh, shit. That’s so pornstar. Fuck, that’s ‘I Moan’ backwards.” “What?” “You’ve never seen Van Wilder, you dick. Shit, she’s got to be hot. She hot?” “Reggie, please.” “Dude, just answer. If she’s hot, cough twice. If she’s dece, cough four times. If she’s ugly as shit, cough once. If she’s ugly as shit, but I’d do her drunk—and we’re talkin’ totally shit-faced, man—then cough five times and sneeze.” “Reggie,” I tried to interrupt. “And make sure the coughs are separated, so I can tell. None of that long cough stuff. Short stuff, like ‘turn your head and cough’ shit.” “Reggie, will you fucking be serious for a second?” I yelled. “Me be serious? You’re the one wanting to bang some chick up in my cabin like it’s fuckin’ Cancun. Which, bytheway, I’m down with. More power to you. I won’t be a cock-block. I’m all for my boy getting some. But while some chick is slobbin’ your knob, I could be busted in on while I’m taking a shit or something and they could slit my throat. That’s a real fucking way to go. On the toilet. Like fuckin’ Elvis style, man.” “Will you take this seriously for once?” “Maybe you’ll take it seriously after your get my fuckin’ pinky toe in the cabin mailbox, you dick.” “Reggie, I need the cabin so I can be safe. Naomi is an agent or something. I don’t know who she is. She’s going to help me.” “She’s an assassin too? A hot assassin? That’s some kinky shit. She can be my ass-assin any time.” Reggie snorted a bit, then hocked up something gross. I waited a few seconds and his voice returned. “Alright, swing by my place and get the keys. But you better make it quick. I don’t want nobody following you here and then thinkin’ it’d be funny to shoot the fat guy.” “Thanks, buddy.” “Yeah,” Reggie said sarcastically. “Thank me after that girl polishes your silverware because you’ve got a fuckin’ pimp pad up in the mountains, biatch. Now where my hot pockets at?” The phone went silent, and I hung up. I looked to Naomi, who had assembled more than enough guns to help the United States Army through fourteen wars. What? I’m running out of good metaphors. “Ready?” “Yeah,” I said, before several guns were piled into my arms. “We’re traveling in style,” she said. She then pushed a button opening a garage door at the end of the warehouse. I saw the nicest black car I’ve ever laid eyes on. I managed to mumble some coherent words. “She’s a beauty. Holy shit.” “That’s her name,” Naomi said, getting in the car. “Her name is Holy Shit?” “No,” Naomi rolled her eyes. “It’s Beauty. Now get in.” I unloaded the guns into the trunk and hopped in the passenger seat. “So, Naomi,” I began as she pulled the car out of the warehouse, “do you pick up guys like me often?” She looked at me. “Try anything and I’ll cut off what little manhood you have.” “Gotcha,” I stiffly replied. I had a feeling my “silverware” was going to get pretty rusty before I got any polishing done any time soon. What kind of sick trick is God playing when He makes a hot assassin? You can’t enjoy her because she’ll kill you seconds before you can unzip your fly. Life is so unfair. It’s times like these I wish my prom date wasn’t my cousin. “Tell me where your cabin is,” Naomi said. I put my seatbelt on, knowing her wild driving habits. “We have to see him first. He has the keys and all that.” “Fine,” Naomi grunted. “But I can’t guarantee his safety. I’m not babysitting everyone, you know.” “Okay. Just go to Murphy street.” The car accelerated like a bullet, and once more my lunch shifted from my stomach back to my eye sockets. Note to self: if I ever get to see my apartment again, get a titanium door. Okay, thanks.[/size]

[size=1]I really liked this chapter :] White/8Bit is growing on me here. He's a smart-mouthed kid with a new toy, for sure. [b]“And the name’s Zen now, 8bit.” “Fuck if I care. You’re gonna be called dead in a few minutes anyways.”[/b] My favorite part ;D Let's see more of 8Bit and Retri, and maybe even some DW (cough, jk), and whip up another chapter, cap'n! ;][/size]

[size=1]Thank you for all the replies :] Good to be back.[/size] [center][b]Chapter Two: The Dude Of Many Names[/b][/center] [size=1]Now I like sex like any healthy man, but I really don’t appreciate getting fucked over this early in the morning. And from what I gathered thus far, that was pretty much the situation I was in. I was being chased down by thirteen—oh, sorry… twelve thugs with loaded Berettas and I’m now getting hindered by a guy with yet another debt I must pay. It’s as if I made a deal with the Godfather or something. “Look, man, I don’t have time for this,” I said calmly to him. The man looked offended. Probably because he was. “I’m a woman, jackass,” the stranger snapped. “Oh,” I said blankly. “Really? I’m sorry, it’s dark where you’re standing.” “I’m a girl!” “Well, you do have to admit, you have a rather manly voice.” The woman lifted her gun at me. “Look, you want to die or live?” “I choose life,” I squeaked. “Then come with me. And I know you, Gates. Don’t try anything funny.” “Gates?” I repeated, as if saying the word would make some clarification in the atmosphere to why the fuck no one could pronounce my friggin’ name. “What’s wrong with everyone in this place? Are we all taking crazy pills?” “I said move it!” she shouted. I’d say I was slightly reluctant to go with the scary, manly-toned woman who passed off for a perfect Medusa, but I wasn’t even able to take a step before more guns were pointed at me from the other direction. It was the Twelve Berettas. What a surprise. “The Thirteen Berettas?” the woman grumbled. “Twelve,” I corrected. The sound of several gun hammers being brought back echoed about the hallway and I shut up. “Synth,” one of the Berettas said. “Surprised to see you here. What’s your business?” “He’s mine.” She nodded at me. The Berettas laughed. Why does everyone laugh around here? Am I missing some crazy assassin inside joke? “I don’t think so, Synth,” said the same Beretta. “Toby is ours.” “His name is Gates,” Synth corrected. “You must be mistaken. This guy is Toby.” “Kensley, actually,” I butted in. “Shut up!” the Berettas and Synth shouted in unison. “Okay,” I cowered. “He’s coming with me,” Synth commanded, pulling out another gun from thin air. The Berettas all raised their fire arms towards Synth. The tension was so thick I could make a delicious soup broth. It’d actually go pretty damn good with my grandma’s home-grown potatoes. “Synth, this doesn’t concern you. Tell Arch to butt out of the Berettas’ business.” This Beretta must’ve been next in command because he sure was talking a lot. And his anger was growing like some freak crop, and Synth’s words were the Miracle-Grow. Damn, this is a fucked up farm. “Gates here owes Arch a debt. It’d be wise for you not to get involved. He’s already cross with your band as it is.” I glanced back and forth at Synth and the Twelve Berettas. It was obvious they knew each other from previous events. This one Beretta in particular had a close relationship from what I could figure. Maybe they had a thing once. But Synth totally looks like a guy. That’s just nasty. I feel bad for the Beretta, even if he was trying to kill me. Oh, but I’m getting off track. “Look, guys,” I began, “it’s obvious all of this is a misunderstanding. You think I’m Gates, you guys think I’m Toby, that Beretta over there obviously thinks he’s a girl—seriously, dude, what’s with the lipstick?—but in actual truth, I’m a regular guy named Kensley. I own a cheap magazine stand downtown.” Somehow I knew they weren’t convinced. Probably because guns were still cocked in my general direction and their expressions were nothing short of “I would like to wreck this guy bad.” Except for maybe the lipstick fellow. He was just… yeah… “Gates, come with me,” Synth finally said. “He’s not going with you,” the Beretta in second command argued. “I believe he is,” Synth snapped back. “Over our dead bodies,” the Berettas barked. “That can be arranged.” Synth smirked and suddenly gunfire lit up the hallway like a cheap American Chinese New Year. I’m not going to lie—changing of pants would be necessary at this point in time. Everyone was shooting and was very distracted, so I figured this would be a good opportunity to climb out the window and make a run for it. Yet I didn’t. In fact, I climbed down the laundry shoot and got stuck. It was really embarrassing. And I had one of those itches that when you scratch it, it doesn’t quite satisfy. What’s up with that? By the time I managed to dislodge myself from the metallic box in the wall, I realized the guns had stopped and Synth was nowhere to be found. However, the hallway was littered with the bodies of the Berettas. All twelve were present. I crawled out of the shoot and looked around. Pondering the situation, I frowned. “This is gonna be a bitch to clean up.” After a quick change of clothes, I met up with my friend Reggie. I felt safer in broad daylight at a populated outdoor café. Somehow, it just didn’t scream “Let’s Shoot Civilians!” Reggie’s what you would call a hypochondriac. The man thinks he’s got everything, right down to every STD in the book. Funny thing is he’s never even made contact with a female body in his life. Now males… I’m not quite sure. “So, wait,” Reggie said through mouthfuls of a sub, “you’re saying they want to kill you?” “Shut it!” I snapped. “Not so loud. They might have me bugged or something.” “What? You mean they can hear us? Dude, I just totally talked about my hemorrhoids.” I stared blankly at him. “Yes, Reggie, I’m sure they’re real concerned about your butt bumps.” “You’re not putting me in danger, are you?” “Of course not,” I countered. “They probably don’t even know I’m here.” “Why are they after you?” “They think I’m some Toby guy.” I thought about it. “Nevermind. The dead ones think I’m Toby. Er, well, thought I was Toby. The shemale thought I was Gates. I have no fuckin’ clue what’s going on. They all change their minds like they change underwear.” “So, wait, the Sixteen Shotguns-” “Thirteen Berettas,” I interrupted. “Right, the Thirteen-” “Well, Twelve now,” I butted in again. “Fine, Twelve.” “No, wait,” I began, “They’re dead, so would that make them the Zero Berettas or the Nonexistant Gang Of Men Who Were Formerly Named The Thirteen Berettas?” “Does that matter?” “Probably not.” I sipped my coffee and sat back in my seat sulking. “Look, Kens,” Reggie said softly, “I don’t care if those gun guys are dead. That psycho man-faced bitch is still running around loose in my neighborhood like some kid hocked up on sweet-tarts. You’re telling me we’re safe after she finished killing twelve trained assassins like it’s her morning workout?” “No, I’m saying there’s a slight chance she has no idea where we are.” “You didn’t tell her where you work, did you?” I thought about it. “Well, yeah.” “Fuck me sideways,” Reggie cursed. “We’re having cups of coffee a block away from your friggin’ newsstand, you dick!” “If I see her, I’ll warn you. We’ll run.” “I have asthma, you careless son of a bitch. I can’t breathe out my fuckin’ nose.” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t walk three blocks without having to puff on my friggin’ inhaler like it’s the goddamn Fountain of Youth. You give me at least an hour notice before that He-Man bitch comes our way. I’m not a friggin’ marathon runner, you know.” “How am I supposed to warn you?” I asked. “It’s not like I have a pager in my pocket for people who want to kill me. I don’t even know what the hell they want. Besides, what will they want with you?” “Are you kidding?” Reggie asked, almost astounded. “Are you fucking kidding me? Don’t you watch movies, dipshit? I’m collateral. I am the highest fucking form of collateral. They will kidnap my fat ass, lock me up in some fucked up Chinese torture chamber while they totally go Saw 4 on my ass. We’re talkin’ puttin’ keys behind my eye and shit.” “They won’t do that to you.” “The hell they won’t! They’ll send you a letter with my pinky toe all friggin’ dried up and shit in the envelope and say, ‘Hey, douche. We’ve got your pudgy friend. We noticed he has diabetes so we’re feeding him sugar until you come get him.’ You’re such a dick.” “I will pay you fifty bucks if that happens, Reg.” “You will blow me, bitch!” Reggie stood up for a second only to sit back down. “I don’t know about you, but I would like to keep my pinky toe. I like my pinky toe. I use it.” I was about to say something before he butted in. “If they take me in the back and totally rape my ass like they do in Pulp Fiction, I will wreck you so bad, you selfish bastard.” “Reggie, this is why I don’t tell you anything.” I pushed my chair out and threw away the coffee cup. I didn’t bother to stick around and listen to his rants. I had to figure something out. “That’s right, bitch!” Reggie shouted after me. “Just leave me here as bait. I don’t care. They can slit my Achilles tendon like in Hostel for all I care.” I didn’t respond and just kept walking. “Dude, go eat a bag of dicks!” Eventually Reggie’s voice was too distant to make out, which was fine by me. The guy swears more than a rap video. I still got the impression he was right, though. Synth was watching me. I just didn’t know why she hadn’t made her move. So I did the right thing and walked to the police station. Well, I would have if I didn’t get run over by a car, shoved into a bag, and tossed into the trunk by a couple scary-ass hairy men. My whole body ached, there was no doubt. It just added to my throbbing jaw from being pistol-whipped. The car ride was short, however, and before I knew it, I was being lugged out of the trunk again. They opened the bag enough for my head to come out. I could make out some faces, but my vision was slightly blurred. It might’ve had something to do with the whole getting-hit-by-a-car thing. “How was the ride?” said one of the men. I squinted and coughed. “I believe I asked for the Honeymoon Suite.” Suddenly I was pistol-whipped in the other cheek. “Fuck, damn guns. Pistol-whipping sure is America’s favorite punishment these days.” “Don’t worry,” came the voice again. A gun was suddenly pressed against my head. “This will be quick.” Oh, fuck me running. BANG![/size] You know what to do, friends ;]

[size=1]Ah, it's just as good as I remember :] And now it has fresh new flavors due to your writing skills improving since the last installment. Despite the fact I was merely mentioned in a few sentences (as a coward, mind you, haha), I will still look forward to reading more. I like how we get right down to the nitty gritty right away. No jumping around stuff. We're already well into the story's intensity. And the character development is intriguing. Tell us more, bitch![/size]

[size=1]Haha, well, firstly, I can't tell you who Toby is. And secondly, his apartment is major crap, so it's no surprise you can make it fall apart. But in actuality, if you hit a stud in the wall just right, it's very possible to knock a ceiling fan down if it's connected to that stud.[/size]

Yes, I am back again. I have made a return to post a new story following the current life of a very unlucky young man who gets involved in a whole mess of crime without actually intending to. His sarcastic wit and quick quips often get the hell beaten out of him, so there are definitely some laughs along the way. If you enjoy my style of writing or humor, you might enjoy this. On another note, it is a mature piece containing violence and swearing. I'm aware almost everything in the Anthology is practically mature, but in this case, it gives me more freedom to do what I need to with the plot I've developed. I assure you, it's all necessary. Enjoy. [CENTER][SIZE="4"]When Luck Shoots You Down[/SIZE] [SIZE="1"]By Gavin Kendrick Brown[/SIZE] [B]Chapter One: Oh, How I Hate Mornings[/B][/CENTER] [size=1]My name is Kensley Marcellus; And I have the worst friggin? luck. And currently I have thirteen semi-automatics pushed against my skull like I was a Beretta tree in full bloom. But let me back up real quick, for reference sake. It was a normal day in the rather dull city of? well? the name doesn?t matter. I?m just your average fella'. I mean, I put my pants on one leg at a time like the rest of the gray mass of humankind. It just so happened that the ass in those pants was going to get the beating of a life time later that morning. But I wasn?t too concerned?considering I had no apparent clue that this future event was to occur. Reaching into my cupboard, I pulled out the ground coffee and poured it into the coffee maker. I turned it on and it made a rather unusual moaning sound. Oh, how I wished only once the moaning in my apartment came from my girlfriend rather than a kitchen appliance. I took a good long look around my apartment. Well, it wasn't that long of a look considering it was one of those one-room places you buy for cheap. It might?ve been like a small square white-plastered cell, but it was my small square white-plastered cell. I closed the cupboard door softly and the walls groaned much like the coffee maker. The ceiling fan swayed as though it?d crash to the floor at any time. I scoffed, then poured some of the coffee into a cup. I took a sip. Mmm? I love how my coffee maker doesn?t quite grind every bit. It?s alright. I?ll appreciate chunky coffee. I didn?t even get a second sip before my door was busted down and I was jumped by several well-dressed men. A few more leapt out of my hamper like it was the friggin? Trojan Horse. Apparently they had been there for quite a while. I couldn?t help but smirk. Joke?s on them; I had some pretty rank socks in there. ?How are you feeling this morning, Toby?? one barked. I squinted at them like they were mentally handicapped. ?I?d feel a lot better if one of you nice fellows would call a door repair place for that. I can?t afford it; not on this week?s pay.? ?Shut up!? another scolded. ?Well, alright.? Suddenly, guns were in my face. I?m not going to lie, it made me feel a tad claustrophobic. ?Could you remove your barrel from my nostril?? One walked up close to me. He looked like the leader. I couldn?t be sure. They were all pretty decked out. I?d kill for one of those suits. ?You?ve got quite the mouth on you, Toby,? he said. ?So did my last girlfriend,? I joked. I do that. I joke when I?m nervous. Wouldn?t you be slightly in the pants-shitting mode if you had some hot iron pressed against your cranium? ?Funny guy,? the leader chuckled. ?He?s a funny guy.? The others snickered a bit, then the leader turned back to me with a stern glare. ?You shouldn?t be talking like that when you?re in such deep shit.? ?Damn, and me without my boots on.? ?Say another smart ass remark, Toby, and we will blow your brains all across these tacky walls.? ?First off, I didn?t paint these ?tacky? walls, and for another thing, stop calling me Toby. My name is Kensley.? The leader almost burst into laughter. No wait?he did. He did burst into laughter. But only for a second. I must?ve missed the joke. ?Kensley? Oh, that?s a good one. Don?t bullshit me, Toby. We want to know everything you know or else.? ?Um? well, I hear the Tigers are going to do well this season.? The leader nodded and suddenly I was feeling a real sharp pain in my jaw. It probably had something to do with me getting pistol-whipped by one of those damn thugs. ?You guys dress well, but your manners are shit.? ?Tell us what you know, Toby,? the leader pressed on. This guy does not waste time. ?For the love of Bill Cosby?s comedy, I have no fucking clue what you?re talking about. I dropped out of high school. I hated Mrs. Henderson?s class. She was such a bitch. I didn?t learn a God damn thing!? I admit I was getting flustered. But the leader kept his cool. He stared at me directly in the eyes. I stared back. It was awkward. ?So? are you going to ask me on a date or something?? ?Fine, Toby,? the leader said softly, ?we can do this the hard way.? He gestured and another pistol smashed against my cheek. ?Fucking goats, that hurts, you dicks!? Another gun rendezvoused with my face. ?Shit? does it always have to be the face? What?s wrong with you people?? ?We tried to negotiate, Toby,? the leader said. ?You don?t like to listen to reason.? ?I like to listen to reason,? I pleaded. ?Bring Reason in here. I?ll have a whole fucking conversation with the guy.? ?The time for mercy has passed, Toby.? ?I?m not Toby. What the shit is this? Is this because I haven?t paid my taxes? All it does is pay welfare so that shits can buy porn.? ?He?s not going to talk,? the leader said, sitting in my chair. He smiled, and said coolly, ?Kill him.? I had to think fast. But I was never fast. You should?ve seen me in track. Still, nevertheless, words carelessly fell from my lips. ?You don?t want to kill me.? ?Oh, I think I do,? the leader smirked. ?This is the last time you get to mess with the Thirteen Berettas.? I then realized there happened to be thirteen men there with thirteen Berettas. Go figure. ?Oh, thirteen Berettas. That?s original.? ?Kill him. I?m sick of his voice.? ?No! If you try to kill me, I will?? I looked about the place and it came to me. ?I will kill your boss with my ceiling fan.? The leader laughed. He does that too much. ?Ha, how do you propose to do that?? I then used my right leg, which happened to not have grubby hands all over it, and kicked the wall right where a stud happened to be. The ceiling fan immediately became loose from above and fell directly on the leader, still spinning. I won?t get into the gritty details, but it scared the other men off me. Thank God, ?cause one of them I swear was grabbing my ass. I took off running down the apartment building hallways to escape. ?Guess they have to change their name to the Twelve Berettas now.? I could hear them trailing close behind and some gunfire, but I figured I was far enough ahead to make a clean getaway. Well, as clean as it could be while you have some mob boss? blood all over your pajamas. I saw the door to the outside just up ahead when suddenly a man stepped in the way. He had a gun. And I did not. ?Oh, for the love of?? I muttered. I thought I was in the clear. ?Hey, Toby,? smiled the man. ?You have a debt to pay.? I panted and whined. Whoever this Toby guy was, he had a lot of debts. And like I said before, I have the worst friggin? luck.[/size] Comments would be lovingly appreciated :] I will get on chapter two then.

[size=1]Okay, everyone. Tough choices as always, but I selected the characters that would best suit the atmosphere and plot of the story. Those who made it in are: [list][*]Vicky [*]ForestCrusader [*]cancer[/list] Not that big of a list, I know. It happens. Thanks to all that signed up. The RPG will be up soon.[/size]

[size=1]Well, folks, so far, so good. I'll be keeping this open just a bit longer. Then I'll make the decision. No one is guaranteed to be booted, but no one is safe either ;] Muhahaha.[/size]

[center][img]http://img73.imageshack.us/img73/7691/treewakeryv4.jpg[/img] [size=1]In a far off land, one riddled with the unexpected, a bard seeks other musicians to undergo a quest across the world in search of an enchanted tree. Only this tree, upon being woken up by a magical song, can save the bard from an ancient evil tracking his family's blood and forever stem its horrible terror.[/size][/center] [FONT="Trebuchet MS"]Welcome, friends, to [b]The Tree Waker,[/b] an enchanted fairy tale that'll cause you to use the most creative and enthusiastic imagination as you become one of these musicians, or perhaps another life weaved into the tale. It shall be a chapter system to seperate the landmarks of the story, however that does not mean we're only allowing certain people to post at certain times. It's a free-will RPG as long as it goes along the storyline. It's also a make-the-cut RPG, so make sure you work your sign up well ;] I only need two other musicians, but feel free to sign up something else, such as a painter. Using your creativity, perhaps his paintings come to life or something. This is a fairy tale kind of world, so they don't even have to be necessarily human. Go wild. I want to see real enchantment here, folks. Below is the sign up. Please proceed and if you have any questions, just ask me.[/FONT] [indent][b]Name:[/b] Try a fairy tale name, please. [b]Age:[/b] Depends on your character. [b]Gender:[/b] Does it have one even? :P [b]Occupation:[/b] If you are a musician, put Musician here. If not, put what you like. [b]Instrument:[/b] For musicians only. Try to stick to string and wind instruments. Drums can be acceptable too, depending on the kind. NOTE: Mandolin is already taken. [b]Items:[/b] If you have any items on your person. This may depend on your occupation. The painter, for example, would have paintbrushes perhaps. [b]Weapons:[/b] If you aren't a trained fighter at all, you most likely won't have any weapons yet. You will, however, probably get one later on to simply defend yourself. Though, you won't be extremely amazing, obviously. [b]Appearance:[/b] Do not use a picture unless you're drawing it specifically for this roleplay. Otherwise, write a decently lengthy description. [b]Information:[/b] Tell us their past or personality traits or anything important about them that we should know.[/indent] [b]Thank you all who sign up. We shall see who joins in the adventure soon enough![/b]

[size=1]The following is a challenge for myself to write a story straight through without plotting it out first. There's no need to go back and use a thesaurus or attempt to develop characters. I have a basic idea and I must build on it. Please comment and tell me how I'm doing. And I hope you enjoy it :][/size] [indent]Taking place in a distant, gothic future, things have somewhat returned to what may look like a metallic Victorian age. Styles of clothing and other pop cultures have seemed to gone back in time. With very little development emerging in the world, the major cities seem to be run with vice and hatred. Violence is a very common thing. The cities are run by the government, however they do not bother to look over the countryside, which is where it is most safe to be. But now things are changing, perhaps for the better or for the worse. News has spread about the cities that a rebel group called The Hat Thieves plan to overthrow the reigning government and set the people free through acts of terrorism. Crime rates go up greatly suddenly as does death rates. Word of assassins and killers arriving in the cities rains through he streets, mercenaries sent to kill any rebellious civilians that show their pale faces. There's even talk of some kind of grim reaper creatures being sighted. The story shall follow the steps of Furdorah the Hat Thief and a lonesome harlot that gets caught up in the whole ordeal as the war between the government and the rebelling citizens wages on. Rebels, harlots, grim reapers, assassins, and a whole deeper plot thickens in a gothic tale of both love and death.[/indent] [center][SIZE="7"][b]Harlot & The Hat Thieves[/b][/SIZE] [SIZE="4"]By Gavyn Kendrick Brown[/SIZE] [size=5]Prologue[/size][/center] [size=1]Fear plays a simple role in life. Everyone fears something, but more often than not, death is one of the most feared. To be living life on the edge and suddenly distancing yourself from all that you know; to fall into a deep slumber of forever. It all seems awfully unappetizing. But maybe death isn?t the greatest fear. Perhaps something more passionate is involved. Perhaps love. The future is bleak and gothic. The cities have been shamefully known for their corruption and vice, however it?s gradually blanketed over by denial and acceptation that there?s not a thing we can do about it. The government could maybe stem the dark tides a bit longer, but they neither do it nor care to. The government runs things; the dark, dreary government that clouds the very existence of the lives they?re meant to protect. They?re corrupt and cruel and feed off everyone and everything. It?s no longer safe to live in the cities.[/size] [center][size=5]ONE[/size][/center] [size=1]Far beyond the limits of the metallic and brick empire, deep into the lush greenery of the countryside, peace appears to reside. The horrible state of the cities has yet to reach out this far. Prosperity is just as common as poverty, but the balance between the two keeps things steady and innocent. Most folks are farmers or merchants, leading simple lives and making nice with the neighboring villagers. Unlike the cities, the small towns lack crime and hatred, and almost everyone knows everyone. The village of Vaillesoire is no exception, but is much smaller than most. There is no doubt something cannot go down and not end up in the town paper the following day. Very few families inhabit Vaillesoire and more often than not, to form any new families, young men from neighboring towns or even larger cities must come and propose to the farmers? daughters. Still, even then, the daughters leave with the young gentlemen shortly after to go live in the cities, despite how unappealing it may sound. And so, Vaillesoire gradually depletes in size, barely the prospering town it once was known as. The two largest families of Vaillesoire, the Van Tassels and the Lovewaters, ran a lot of the businesses and farming around the area. They weren?t, however, heavily rich, still they were admired far beyond the surrounding forests and often come to for their services. On occasion, a Van Tassel was known to work with a Lovewater in a business, particularly Vaillesoire?s tavern and motel, the Van Water Inn. This made the families very close, especially between Lucius Van Tassel and Ernal Lovewater. The two men were proud farming neighbors and were heads of the town of Vaillesoire. They were both unmarried after tragically losing their wives, but still had children to raise. Lucius Van Tassel cared for his two sons, Vencent and Dmitrye. Vecent was the older of the two and helped run his father?s tavern The Van Water Inn. Dmitrye remained helping his father with paperwork, but still rarely did much to help the family. It was the classic story of father playing favorites between them. Being the first born, Lucius took a fondness to Vencent. There wasn?t much room in his life for Dmitrye. This however did not bother Dmitrye for he had fallen in love with Ernal Lovewater?s daughter Scarlett. She was an only child, but the same age as Dmitrye. With long flowing blonde hair, captivating blue eyes, and a grace unmatched by any angel, she was easily the most beautiful girl to ever be born of Vaillesoire. They had been childhood friends, and due to the lack of boys and girls their age in the town, they were really the only friend of the other. What began as a simple friendship as toddlers soon blossomed into feelings for each other. Still, neither of them said anything about where their heart truly lied. Things change, however. It can?t always be a happy ending and sometimes it?s not meant to be. One day on a withering autumn afternoon, Dmitrye told Scarlett to meet him under the blossoming apple tree just outside of Vaillesoire, their favorite spot. The sun was setting by the time the boy arrived and greeted his patient friend. Sitting with their backs to the trunk, they merely stared out over the countryside. Talking didn?t seem necessary. Dmitrye turned to Scarlett and smiled. She returned the gesture, but let it slip away just as quickly as it had come. Dmitrye sensed something was wrong. He took his friend?s hand and inquired. She then asked Dmitrye a question. What do you fear the most? Dmitrye thought for a moment, then made an expression like he had finally decided on something. He turned back to her and said, ?I fear dying.? Scarlett put her head against the tree and nodded. Dmitrye had let go of her hand and ran his fingers through his wavy locks of hair. Then he asked her the same thing. She did not take as long to reply. She flatly said, ?I do not just fear dying.? She then looked Dmitrye in the eye. ?I fear dying alone.? Dmitrye stared back, then took her hand again. It was almost too perfect of a moment for him to tell her how he felt, but his thoughts were washed away with what she said next. She spoke of leaving Vaillesoire. A man was to take her to the city. Dmitrye felt his heart sink and a sudden pain in his chest, as though he was stabbed. ?When are you leaving?? he panicked. ?Tonight.? There was silence. Wind russled the tree?s foliage above them, but that was all that resonated on that quiet Autumn evening. Dmitrye watched as a small vehicle took away the love of his life, the only true happiness he could fathom in his dismal life in the small town of Vaillesoire. He felt the same aching pain his chest he had when he first heard of her leave, only it was stronger and deeper. He put a hand to his chest and stared angrily toward the road. His eyes pierced the gravel trail, as if he could somehow make the automobile return by just peering off into the horizon. But to his dismay, he could not do anything. Scarlett was gone. That night, he returned home to the Van Tassel household upset and distraught. His father sensed it, but did nothing to sooth his son. He was more fixated on helping his other son, Vencent work out the financial dealings for opening his own business in Vaillesoire. Dmitrye made his way to his room and locked the door. He was not hungry for food nor weary for sleep. Instead, he stared out over the acres of crops surrounding his home, wondering if Scarlett was thinking of him; or better yet, if she was thinking of him in the same way he thought of her. It seemed almost a waste of his life to not be with her. His conscience racked at him and his heart gradually depleted in his chest. He continued to feel the sharp pain as it grew worse and worse. It was almost unbearable. He had no choice. He had to follow her. He stormed out of the house without disrupting his father and his brother?s business. Finding one of the Van Tassel automobiles parked by the road, he got in and drove away out of Vaillesoire without informing anyone of his mission. As he drove down the way Scarlett had taken shortly before, the pain slowly went away and he felt more confident this wasn?t the end. To arrive at the designated city, it took several hours, but Dmitrye was determined enough. However, upon arriving in the city, he wasn?t sure where Scarlett was or where he was, for that matter. The neighboring village of Applegallon was as far as Dmitrye had ever went outside of Vaillesoire. He?d never actually seen the city before. Parking the automobile in what seemed like a safe alley, he made his way to try and find a local business to ask help from. It wasn?t long after that something flashed in the sky and came flying down on top of him. It was all too quick. He was walking and then, it all went black. The city is a dangerous place, full of crime and violence. But more than that, it?s full of fear. And fear is what a lot of the darkness feeds off of in the city. If the government keeps the people afraid, it shall reign supreme and survive forever. And if you do not fear them, you shall die. And so comes the fear of death. But are we afraid of dying? or are we afraid of dying alone? [center]-----------[/center] ?Damnit, Fudorah,? shouted a tall, lanky individual in a crooked top hat. ?Will ya? hurray yer ass up and brang the wires?? A man not as tall and slightly more built emerged from the shadows adorned in a fedora-style hat. ?It?s not me carrying the wires, Topp. You have to remember who does what.? ?Yeah, yeah, and you teach yer gran?ma tah suck eggs,? Topp snapped back while tossing large rope over his shoulders. ?Who?s in charge of the wires then?? ?Dryvar,? Fudorah replied, sitting himself down on the ledge of the building. They were on the roof of a tall office building in the middle of the city, shadowed by large air vents that towered above the brick fountain. ?Dryvah!? Topp shouted, spitting over the edge. ?Where the fap are ya?? A slightly chubbier individual dressed much like the other two, but wearing a driver cap came stumbling up the stairs carrying loads of wires. He was obviously Dryvar. ?Cool it, Topp. I can?t run as fast as you guys.? ?Quit yo? whinin? and get ova? here,? Topp commanded, still perched on an air vent like some high authority. The thing was, they were all ranked the same amongst each other. ?You can boss me all you want, Topp,? Dryvar continued as he panted, ?but you can?t blame me. You guys have those long legs. I have these tiny little hooves.? ?Yeah, well, maybe yo? main food groups shou?n?t be donuts and chocolate milk, eh?? Topp finally got down and took the fires from Dryvar?s open arms, who then collapsed by Furdorah to rest. ?You have no right to pick at a man?s eating habits,? Dryvar said between pants. Topp ignored the comment and examined the wires. ?Looks good. C?mon. We?re meetin? Pylott on the reactor roof.? He tossed the wires back into Dryvar?s arms, who was unaware of the gesture and almost dropped them off the rooftop. Topp, however, didn?t made a snide remark like usual. Instead, he bounded to the arch emerging from the building?s ledge and fastened the rope he was carrying around the thick stone. He tugged on it to check its durability. ?You girls ready?? When there was no response from either Dryvar or Fudorah, Topp gestured for one of them to go. Furdorah volunteered silently and took the rope into his hands. He took a breath and then quickly leapt off the building, swinging his way onto the next rooftop. Topp stared down and saw Furdorah was successful. He pulled the rope back up and looked to Dryvar, whose face was a portrait of fear. ?Yo? turn, fatty,? Topp smirked. Dryvar gawked. ?What in the whole history we?ve worked together makes you think I?m capable of that?? Topp rolled his eyes and shoved the rope into his partner?s hands. ?I don?t want to do this, Topp.? ?It?s easy. Jus? jump.? ?I?m not ready,? Dryvar whined. ?Jus? jump!? Topp repeated. ?I?m not re-? Whether Dryvar was ready or not, Topp shoved his overweight form over the ledge, which quickly built up momentum and sent him speeding into an air vent on the neighboring building. A call of pain resonated from Dryvar, which caused Topp to chuckle softly to himself before following. They all continued to swing from rooftop to rooftop, every now and then taking short breaks for Dryvar to catch his breath. Still, it didn?t take long to arrive near the reactor where their friend Pylott was waiting. Pylott removed the goggles from over his eyes and smiled happily. ?Took you fellers long enough.? ?Fatty had to ?ave his thirteen dinners on the way here,? Topp scoffed, pushing at Dryvar who retaliated by putting his arms up over his face. ?Cut it out, you two,? Fudorah scolded. ?Where?s the boss, Pylott?? Pylott, who always seemed to be in the best of moods, simply chewed on a toothpick and pushed the brown hair from his face. ?Waitin? inside just as he said he would. Bless his heart, he already found where we need to lay the bomb.? A smirk painted across Topp?s handsome features. ?Good. ?Bout time he came in use.? His somewhat English combined with a Brooklyn accent made his crude remark sound even more insulting. Fudorah just glared. ?Let?s get a move on then,? he said. Pylott stood up smiling and put his goggles over his eyes again. ?Okay, boys. Let?s make this place go boom.?[/size]

[indent][b][size=1]I never said that! In fact, I don't ever remember saying a wise thing in my life. I appreciate you making me look good, White--and we all know I don't really need any help there, heh heh--but you're telling the story all wrong. Let me fix things here.[/b][/size] White and DW found their way back into town and to their house. There they were greeted by the magical talking dog Charles. "Wuddup, homes?" Charles said in his pimpin' fresh style. "White's being a wuss," DW informed. "Complainin' about monsters again." "Man, White, you need to take a chill pill, brotha," the canine said. He then slobbered a little on White's hand. "Ewww," White groaned. "That's disgusting." "You wanna know what's disgusting is guess what I just licked before you." White stared for a moment, then rushed inside after DW. Charles followed in as well. "So what are you two hip cats doin' today?" "I was going to hit the skin club," DW said, pouring a glass of milk for himself. "No," White cut in. "We have work to do." He shut the sink off after washing his hands. He then glared to Charles, who panted happily over by the fireplace. "What work?" DW grumbled. "Since when do I do work?" "Good point," White nodded. "But the town elder asked me to do something and he wants you to do it too." "If he needs bitches, I got some," Charles barked. DW and White stared at him. "What? I meant, like, girl dogs? Man, you guys are whack." "Yeeeah," White continued. "Ignoring the conversating canine, we must leave as soon as possible. It's urgent. And..." White stopped after noticing DW fell asleep with Charles curled up at his feet. "I need a beer."[/indent]

[indent][size=1][b]That is [i]NOT[/i] how it started, White. You're telling the story all wrong. As I recall, we did not start off just as orphans. Our father happened to be King. That's right... KING. And we were princesses. Er... princes. The King was ambushed by cyborg kung fu monkeys and had no choice but to send you and me to the nearby orphanage to be safe. Gosh, how could you leave that out? I guess you were too young at the time. So, yeah, that basically makes us brothers. I guess I got the good looks between the two of us. Oh! And I can make a fancy logo too, ya know. See?[/indent] [center][img]http://img232.imageshack.us/img232/3576/adventuresdz6.jpg[/img][/center] [indent]Man, I just put you to shame. But I guess all the rest of the stuff you said was true. But what happens next is so important, I'm going to tell it because I know you'll just screw it up. Hah![/b][/size] Dragon Warrior removed the sandwiches from his robes delicately, as though they were the priceless directions to some untold treasure. White unsheathed a blanket from his belt and flew it across the grass for a place to lay down while feasting. The two knelt and munched happily... that is until... ... they were ambushed by an old enemy! Cyborg Kung Fu Monkeys! "You there," they said in the metallic voices of [i]DOOM[/i], "Give us the sandwiches and we won't have to kill you... much." "Never, you horrible monkeybutts," DW shouted in anger. White held him back. "No, DW, it's not worth it!" "But I spent a long time cutting the crust off yours," DW whined. "Insolent fools," the Cyborg Kung Fu Monkey Lord said while warming up his Super Atomic Gamma Ray Gun Arm. "You shall suffer greatly for your stupidness." "Wait a minute," DW said. "I recognize you." "Wha?" the Monkey Lord squeaked. "You were the same Cyborg Kung Fu Monkeys that killed my father back when I was four and he was two." "Are... are you sure?" The Cyborg Kung Fu Monkey Lord asked. "There are a lot of Cyborg Kung Fu Monkeys running around." "I'm almost certain... kinda." DW was too furious to care. White wasn't sure what to do so he cowered in the corner. Yeah... that's it. He cowered. Haha. "Enough of this standing aroundness," said the Monkey Lord. "Seize them!" The monkeys ran over and clung to the two orphan boys and held on strong. "Get your paws off me, you damn dirty apes!" DW shouted before unleashing a powerful spell that destroyed each of the Cyborg Kung Fu Monkey's data systems, causing them to spontaneously combust. It was only DW and the Monkey Lord left. "Man, I just got my metallics waxed," whined the Monkey Lord. Then White sliced him in half. "Hey, I thought you were cowering," DW said in awe. White flipped his head around and rested his sword on his shoulder. "Can't let you have all the action," he said in a very Clint Eastwood sort of way. DW bent down and looked at the dead Monkey Lord. Then he noticed something. "Oh, this Monkey Lord doesn't have a scar under his eye. He really wasn't the one that killed our father. Oops." White and DW chuckled to themselves at their mistake. "Ohhh, we're so dumb."[/indent]

[size=1]Phew. It was hard to jump back into this. Haha. I had to look back and refresh a little. But yes, you sure did have it coming along smoothly. You went right back to it and found a way through. And you said it'd be hard to continue ;] For shame, Boss Man. You have it golden once more.[/size]

[size=1]That's the thing, Gavin, [spoiler]'cause these "pieces of eight" trinkets were passed down from a Captain to another Captain and whoever had it was captain of the ship. But Jack still had his even though he was marooned. Also, Barbossa would've had to have been captain of another ship at some other point to have his "eye" so... [/spoiler]it confuses me as well.[/size]

[size=1]That's what I thought too. But still, [spoiler]if they think of some new stuff for Jack, they can possibly pull it off. I agree that leaving Will and Elizabeth behind's good. They were getting old and can't do much more. Jack still has potential, if done right. But you could kind of sense Jack was running dry in the third. I just hope they can figure out how to advance him more. It's like, they already have the sea battles pretty much done. How much more cannonfiring can we stand? Haha.[/spoiler][/size]

[size=1]I will come and say that there's rumor of a [b]fourth[/b] coming out, but I haven't mentioned it because it's not definite. They're discussing doing it, but they're not sure. Originally, there was only to be one movie, then they decided to make it a trilogy. Now they want to do more. And Johnny Depp is ALL for it! I can see it'd work too. [spoiler]After watching [b]At World's End,[/b] you can tell Elizabeth and Will are done because they'd complicate things, especially after it shows them ten years later with a kid and shiz. But they can continue with Jack and Barbossa and the Fountain of Youth.[/spoiler] Exciting![/size]

[size=1]For your convenience, John, my friend, [spoiler]after the credits, it shows Elizabeth's island ten years later with her son looking out toward the sunset where a flash of green light occurs, then it shows Will returning to her on his ship just as he promised. That's all[/spoiler] :][/size]

[size=1]Yes, most of my friends complained [spoiler]about Will and Elizabeth and "How they should be together forever!"[/spoiler] but if you watch after the credits, you'll know. However, there's rumor of a fourth Pirates movie coming out now. [spoiler]I don't see them continuing with Will and Elizabeth, but they can definitely go on with Jack and Barbossa (hehe... Hector) and the Fountain of Youth.[/spoiler][/size]

[size=1]Thanks a bunch, guys :] I'm flattered. I figured I was losing my touch. I try my best, 2007DigitalBoy, considering it's boring to read a long comic waiting for a punchline. It's much more amusing having several jokes, then one final whammy! And I'll keep all that in mind, White. Haha. Here's a fresh one...[/size] [b]RPG'd:::[/b] This one is pretty lengthy, I admit (23 boxes). But the idea was too fun to pass up. Besides, RPGs have so many cliches and flaws to their plots that you can't help but rip on them. In this comic, I make fun of how is some RPGs, a hero is sent on a quest by a very rich kingdom, however is given no money or equipment to help him succeed. [img]http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/9440/rpgdcomicdl1.jpg[/img]

[size=1]I have seen At World's End. I can die now. Unlike you, Sandy, it's not my favorite of the three (#1 still is my cherished), however I agree it's an amazing end to an amazing saga. Sandy says it all. Though Keith Richards didn't seem necessary. It was almost like they threw him in because Johnny Depp somewhat based himself off Richards. I saw more of Kevin Kline's character from "Pirates of Penzance" in Jack Sparrow than Keith Richards, as Depp also based Jack off the Pirate King from said famous musical. Still, it didn't hurt it, but still didn't make it any better. Overall, I'm very satisfied. I'm sorry, but I'm still in awe :D[/size]

[size=1]Thank you very much, everyone :] Of course, being the pirate I am, I'm partial to the Ruff Skallions myself. But oh wells. And yeah, the cat being smaller than a mosquito... we don't question that ;) Boredom strikes again and I made another comic. Just a very simple concept about a samurai bunny named Samurai Bunny :D[/size] [b]Sam Bun:::[/b] Samurai Bunny (Sam Bun) protects his forest from all dangerous threats. Here's a look at his "intense" adventures :] I'm also aware the last speech bubble is not transparent. It happens ;D [img]http://img521.imageshack.us/img521/5185/sammbuncomicho6.jpg[/img]

[size=1]That's always been a case with anyone who does something monotonously for several hours on end. I know for a fact that this has happened to me in the past, even when I was a younger artist. I'm nineteen now, so obviously I'm about in the same boat as you, but I assure you this is normal. It's not carpeltunnel syndrome forming either. That takes [i]a lot[/i] to get. You're just wearing your muscles in your arm out because of a continuous and redundant motion. It's normal and happens with any muscle in your body. It'd be the same as swinging a baseball bat 'til your arm grew sore.[/size]

[center][size=4][b]DW's Random Comic Strip Thread[/size] [size=6]Extravaganza![/b][/size][/center] [size=1][indent]Well, mates, it's been a while since I've posted any of my work, particularly comics. My last comic series was [b]Slackers In Slacks[/b], as you know. Now I have some more random comics I make in my free time when I'm [i]really[/i] bored (which is frequent as of now). So I have decided to share my work of boredom with you and present to you my two latest comic strips! Please comment and I will surely make more random ones in the future. Thanks :][/indent][/size] [b]Monsieur Mosquito:::[/b] This one was just a night where mosquitos were bothering my friend Katelyn and I was sooo bored, I promised her I'd make a comic about a mosquito. And not just any mosquito! One that was French... sorta. [img]http://img259.imageshack.us/img259/4876/monsieurmosquitoen6.jpg[/img] [b]The Ruff Skallions:::[/b] In theme of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's, which premiers this week, as well as me being a major pirate fan, I have made this little strip. It took much longer than Monsieur Mosquito and was a pain in the butt at times. But I like it, nevertheless :] [img]http://img300.imageshack.us/img300/7603/ruffskallionscomicmb6.jpg[/img] Please comment and I will make more for your enjoyment :D Thanks.