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Post by Akbar Le Grey on Jul 1, 2006 14:33:18 GMT -5
PROLOGUERobert shuffled through the pile of papers on his desk. This was what he liked most about his job; going through the idiotic comments and press releases that were sent to The 667er, and then making fun of them with his colleagues. Suddenly, a small insignia on the left hand corner of on of the papers caught his eye. Ah, he thought, licking his lips, an official press release. These ones were the best for him; the sycophancy always had him laughing before he even got to the second paragraph. He scanned the paper briefly: STAFF SADDENED
Tragedy and all the rest of the staff expressed their grief to friends, associates and e-relatives of jtb today, at a special meeting held in the mod board. Speaking on the occasion, Dante and swans made eloquent remarks; the former about how awful the event was, and the latter about the great loss.
Tragedy himself chaired the event, which was organized by swans, and to which the DDs were admitted. They expressed their grief along with the rest of the staff, and DD Libitina, known for her kind nature, said “He was improving a lot, it’s so sad that the improvement was cut short.”
The investigation into jtb’s disappearance and presumed death is set to begin tomorrow.Quite short, he thought, and not as sycophantic as usual. Oh, well. All these press releases they were got about disappearances seemed to tone down the sycophancy, and up the emphasis on how much the staff cared about members. ‘Pfft,’ he muttered. As he added a couple of commas onto the sheet, and put it into the pagemaker’s in tray, he reflected about how odd it was that yet another person had gone missing and was presumed dead. Oh well, he thought privately. Maybe we’ll eventually get rid of all the really cool members this way. He smiled, and picked up the next sheet, yet another desperate letter from Snicket asking them to acknowledge how much the staff did for 667, and how they needed to be appreciated. He threw it into the wastepaper bin and got up, deciding to step out for a quick smoke before he had to face more that crap. The press release sat in the in tray. A tiny camera in the upper-left corner of the room took a quick shot of the release in the in tray, and then combusted, disappearing without a trace.
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Post by Dismay on Jul 1, 2006 17:55:05 GMT -5
Awesome. I like it already and I can't wait to read more!
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Post by Black Bert on Jul 1, 2006 17:55:51 GMT -5
Hot, sexy Robert action.
Except I'm really opposed to smoking. But it makes me look badass, so whatever.
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Post by PJ on Jul 1, 2006 19:01:08 GMT -5
Yeah. There's only so much badass one person can handle, even if it is Robert.
But good, so far. You'd better finish this, or I'll personally do something fascinatingly horrible to you, which will, on the one hand, give you a great story to tell at dinner parties (and a career at the Circus) but will, on the other hand, be excrutiating until the day you die.
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Post by Akbar Le Grey on Jul 2, 2006 9:36:23 GMT -5
CHAPTER 1[/b]
“Delivery, sir,” said a courier, coming through the door of Dante’s office. He looked up, a bright smile on his face.
Dante turned around.
The courier stopped smiling, gently placed the parcel down on the desk in front of him, and sped out of the office.
Dante chuckled as he sat down at the desk, and opened the package. Ah, his issue of The 667er. He sped through to the fifth page, to check if it was there. It was. “Perfect,” he whispered. Everything was going exactly according to plan; not even The 667er’s staff had deciphered it yet.
Grinning, he picked up the phone and dialed a certain staff member’s number. She’d be just as happy about it as him.
----
Alice sipped her coffee as she went through The 667er. A knock at the door caused her to get up, walk out of the kitchen of her apartment and look through the peephole. Seeing who it was, she hurriedly opened the door.
“Hi, Pan!” she said happily, glomping her e-wife.
“Hey,” replied Pan, returning the glomp, and then walking in. She sat down on the couch and watched Alice as she took a place on the chair opposite.
“How are you? How come you came over so early?” asked Alice, of a worried looking Pandora.
Pan remained silent for a while, just looking at Alice vacantly. After a couple of seconds, she blinked and cleared her throat. She could almost feel butterflies in her stomach. Very drunk butterflies. She shouldn’t have stolen so much of BSam’s beer at the daycare center last night. The artificial bagel she ate after couldn’t have helped much, she reflected. Odd. Char said it always worked for her.
Alice leaned forward. “Are you okay?”, she questioned.
Pandora nodded, and then cleared her throat again. She needed to say it.
“Pan?” Alice got up, and sat beside Pan, looking concerned.
Pandora steeled herself, and just said it, a miserable look marring her features: “Alice, I think we should get an e-divorce.”
The mug dropped from Alice’s hands as she tried to interpret what Pan had just said.
Pandora looked at her sadly, and then got up. She kissed her on the cheek and walked out the door, leaving Alice sitting on the couch, shocked. The pool of coffee on the rug widened as she began to cry.
---
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Post by SF on Jul 2, 2006 11:41:43 GMT -5
Poor Alice...
This looks as though it's going to be good, Akbar.
I agree with PJ's threat. *scowl*
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Post by champ103 on Jul 2, 2006 12:39:05 GMT -5
It was good. Room for improvment is in that you should go into more detail with your descriptions; each of the little parts was too short and snappy and it would seem more fluent and professional if you made it longer using interesting descriptions.
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Post by Akbar Le Grey on Jul 2, 2006 12:46:37 GMT -5
It was good. Room for improvment is in that you should go into more detail with your descriptions; each of the little parts was too short and snappy and it would seem more fluent and professional if you made it longer using interesting descriptions. Thanks. Actually, I usually do lots of description, if you've noticed, but I wrote this in a rush.
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Post by Dismay on Jul 2, 2006 15:24:10 GMT -5
Yeah, more! I always enjoy your stories Akbar, and I hope there will be more of this one soon!
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Post by Charles Vane on Jul 2, 2006 17:53:09 GMT -5
My heart is sad now. How could I leave Alice?
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Post by jtb on Jul 2, 2006 19:44:22 GMT -5
Wow. A story that actually has me in it? not written by me?! And to have me in it with Robert and Alice and Pan and Dante! Written by Akbar Le Grey! AND a mystery/drama/romance/plotting ...plot? Awesome! Great! Fantastic! Write more, please!
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Post by Celinra on Jul 2, 2006 22:51:10 GMT -5
Seems interesting so far. I look forward to reading more!
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Post by PJ on Jul 3, 2006 0:41:04 GMT -5
What Celinra said. Looks interesting.
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Post by Alice Wilde on Jul 6, 2006 11:14:28 GMT -5
Hi. Sorry I didn't see this.
My favorite line was "very drunk butterflies" and you rock.
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Post by Akbar Le Grey on Jul 6, 2006 12:19:19 GMT -5
CHAPTER 2[/u]
“Um, ma’am,” said a weak voice over the intercom.
“Yes, what is it?” she snapped back. The tone of her voice seemed sharp enough to cut even the toughest, hardest cheese.
The secretary and at the other end shuddered, breathed in, and mumbled “I, er, just read the magazine.”
“Yes, and?” came the terse reply. She wasn’t one who liked to waste time.
“It’s, er, in.” he told her, somehow managing to conjure up the strength to speak again. Perhaps it was that vodka he was looking forward to at lunch. Or maybe it was the one he had in the morning.
“Excellent,” she said. The intercom was cut.
The secretary breathed in and slowly extracted a vodka bottle from the top drawer of his elegantly ‘in’ desk. The perks of working in the forum administration, he mused.
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Klaus19 giggled happily as she typed away at her computer in her dark room. More poetry. More, more, more. She just couldn’t get over her own amazing talent, she thought happily. She’d become something of a recluse lately, only popping out to throw odes to people and then run away, cackling happily.
She looked around suddenly. “Idea!” squealed the excited girl, as she ran to her bed and starting to search through the pile of poetry, hentai and other assorted ‘pirnted stuf’, as she liked to call it. There it was: The 667er. She quickly leafed through the pages, until she came to what she was looking for. The press release about jtb.
That was it! She’d find jtb, and then write an ode to him and his kidnappers. Cackling manically, she went back to her computer desk and began to type once more.
-----------------------------------
jtb whimpered. He didn’t like it here. It was scary, dark and not particularly nice-smelling. Why had he trusted them, he asked himself repeatedly. Why, why, why? Just because they were part of the administration? Because they had large postcounts? Or was it simply because they had power? Although it was true, he’d never admit it to himself. Never. Until the day he died.
Which, he reflected, might not be very far away.
-----------------------------------
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