My Quintology, Part 1: Freedom Fighters Book 1
 

Here it is, my first fanfic! To everyone who knew about this beforehand, I'm sorry it's so late, but I got it up. Here;s chapetr 1: (Note: I haven't proofread i, so there may be a couple of mistakes.)
Enjoy:

Chapter 1: Hardships

Thud! Larry’s face hit the hard corrugated steel floor. “And don’t you try that again, or it’ll be broken bones, not just bruised.” Snarled the Slig guard through the door bars, as he slammed the metal door shut. Larry was a mudokon, your bog standard green mudokon with straggly feather and a disliek of industrialists. He had been enslaved long ago, for RuptureFarms, before getting freed by the Mudokon Saviour, Abe. But knowing hsi luck, he got enslaved again for a new factory- the Septik Snaks Food Corporation.Larry lifted his face off the floor gingerly, still in pain. The blood from his mouth mingled with the tears he was trying to hold back, as he muttered “Y-yes s-s-sir.” The Slig just flipped him off, spat at him and left, saying “Don’t you take the piss with me mud.” A he left.
“Caught trying to escape again Larry?” Larry turned to the mudokon who had said it-Trevor, as always. From what Larry knew, Trevor had been training to be a shaman at his village before being ‘captured’, and he was seemingly level-headed most of the time. He was decked out in the shaman paint, but didn’t have the feathers yet and his powers were unfinished. Still, he was a trainee shaman, and that kept some of the more superstitious Sligs wary of him. “Of course I did Trev, otherwise I wouldn’t be lying here beat up and bleeding, would I?”
Trevor shrugged “Well be careful. That’s the 5th time you’ve tried, and you’re lucky you’ve been caught by different guards in different Zulags. Don’t forget the 3 escapes and you’re out rule.” He sighed, drawing his finger across his throat to illustrate the point.
“Yeah well, maybe death would be better than this.” Larry muttered, trying to hide his pain as he crawled over to his fellow cellmates.
“Don’t say that Larry. At least we get fed here.” Another mudokon spoke up. Larry sighed. That was Jeff. He was a bit of an oddball even among mudokons. He was often quiet, sounded like he was high on something even when he wasn’t, and wore countless bracelets and rings that he said got him in touch with Odd. He was probably the mudokon equivalent of what you humans call a hippy. “Food? How is gone off, mashed up scrabmeat food? Odd I wish we could get out of here.”
A large, muscled and bulky mudokon who had kept quiet for a while suddenly threw himself at the door and banged on it again and again, screaming madly “Get back here you Slig bastards! You can’t enslave us! Next work shift I’m gonna strangle each and every one of you scumbags!!”
“Max Max Max, yelling won’t get us out.” Trevor admonished him, sighing and picking at his nails. The dark red, big and bulky mudokon,-Max, spat, muttered something involving a lot of curse-words, then flopped down, still breathing heavily, and slowly returned to a more green colour. Larry was still irritable though, and turned to Trevor once more “Max has had a hard time in slavery, so you gotta understand why he’s doing that.”
“Hey, I can speak for myself Larry.” Growled Max, and he punched the wall again.
Trevor spoke up “Larry, I was just saying yelling and raging gets us nowhere but punished. Remember, we’re all in this together, we have been since the beginning.”
Larry reminisced at Trevor’s words. “The beginning.” He remembered; and thought back.

Wow. I like your fan fic.
Keep up the good work!

Very Intruiging. I like the personalities allot. Good story ;) .

Very nice, man. I see you've been working on this.
So, umm... Keep up.:)

My favorite part: Septik Snacks. That was pretty clever.

This is very well written, and it leaves me waiting for more.

The mudokon personalities are well illustrated.

A great opening all in all. I'm looking forward to the next installment. Hopefully you won't keep me waiting.

Nice one, you've got the whole slavery thing sussed! You've done a good job, already built the four characters, and managed to be suttle about it! Nice one, keep it up and this could get interesting. Can't wait to see how you develop a plot to this.

You mean subtle? :p (Silly language, isn't it, with all those silent letters and such) ;)
Anyway, good story so far, I take it this is the one you mentioned in the W@RF RPG, the one that you couldn't get started yet? If so, the start you've managed to come up with is pretty good.

It's cool! Please continue, as BBBoogie said, you worked on this, and it's very well. :)

Gretin, it was 5 minutes to 11 at night. I ahve a right to spell badly at that time!

Wow! What a Great fanfic! This is the best Fanfic i've read so far.
Max sounds like one annoying idiot.

Very cool tale!
I like Trevor:p

:lol:I was just being... what's that word Dipstikk used... facetious. ;)

We might be waiting a little while for an update, I think MM said he was going away for two weeks. Looks like he made a typo as well, never heard of a Qunitology before! :p

Wow...what a great story! I love the characterization-it rocks! And yes, Max seems like a hateful old crow! :D I love it!

I'm in Spain now but don't expect a new chapter for 2 weeks like Gretin said.c i could give you some background info, but not now as i have 3 mnins left on the PC (pay per use0. Also yeah, max is easily annoyable. he's been enslaved so much and treated so badly that he's one big, pissed off madman!

The new chapter hath cometh!
Chapter 2: In The Beginning

Larry thought back, remembering how it all began:

It had been a relatively warm day in the village, good conditions for Larry’s crops, as he was a spoocefarmer. He had just finished taking the last of the ripe spoocebushes, ready for sale, consumption and use by the village Shamen, when a faint buzzing had reached his ears. The sky became speckled with dots of black, gradually growing larger and less contrasted against the sinking sun. Several other villagers had come out to see what was going on, as the noise grew louder, and the spots grew larger, suddenly resolving themselves into- “Flying Sligs! They’re coming here!” Larry had yelled to the other villagers. They had ran for their huts, but the Industrial hunters were too close, and began firing, their tranquilizer rounds finding the occasional mudokon amidst the fleeing crowd. There were a few mudokons who had grabbed spoocebows, tomahawks and spears from their huts, and attempted to fight off the Sligs. A couple of the industrials fell to the mudokons, but the weapon wielders were quickly neutralized and knocked out by the Sligs. The last thing Larry remembered was seeing several sligs airlift a few mudokons away before feeling 2 painful needlelike darts in his side. Larry had been enslaved once before, and just when he was free and happy, they had got him again.
Larry temporarily snapped out from his reverie. Trevor’s words had reminded him of the nightmarish truth of his capture, and he rarely liked thinking of it. He looked at Trevor, Jeff and Max. His 4 best friends in this hellhole. Each of them had their own memories, their own tales, and they had told Larry.
Max had been a tomahawker in his village. A similar style of Slig patrol had come, only supported by pant-wearing Sligs and BigBros in a land vehicle, a crawler. He had fought hard, but 2 BBS’s had pinned him down, trapping his arms and legs while 3 Sligs tranquilized him in unison.
Jeff had been a... well, Jeff. Supposedly he had been making and selling miniature statues made from earwax when they came. He had been easily captured, as he was pretty much unaware of what was going on until he felt a heavy club strike the back of his skull.
Larry actually believed that, even the earwax thing. From what he could gather by Jeff’s actions and the accounts of mudokons from his village who had been captured, Jeff was an oddball. Spaced out, possibly sent mad by his previous time as a slave, or just a weird one.
Trevor had been a Shaman, a spiritual guide and high ranking mudokon in his village. Patrols of Sligs had come to his village, he had fought using his shamanic powers, but combined efforts had overcame him. He now wore metal, chant suppressing shackles around his ankles, neck and wrists at all times to prevent him using his abilities.
Larry stopped his musing as he realised Trevor was looking at him. “Larry you, you alright? I mean, you just sort of went all tranced there.” Larry smirked, in spite of himself. “Yeah, I’m fine as I can be considering how things are Trev, I was just thinking about how it all started. It just makes me realise that, Odd, we have gotta get outta here.”
“You and all of us keep thinking that Larry. Trouble is, there ain’t much we can do about it right now.” Replied Trevor, ruffling his own head feathers in depressed frustration.
“Yeah, but, there must be, someday. I am gonna try again, with a plan this time. Will ya help me man?” Asked Larry, looking Trevor square in the eyes.
“Course I’ll help you Larry. So will Jeff, and Max, if you ask ‘em. But we can’t help you tomorrow. Remember, because you got caught, you’ve got to feed the Slogs, unarmed.”
“Heh, it’ll be the 5th time I’ve done it. I’m getting used to it now. Well, goodnight, if you can have a good night in this place.”

END OF CHAPTER
_________________

Sorry it was so slow, I just wanted to explain the characters' backstory. The next chapter(s) should be lively. Respond!

That's a very nice chapter you've made.
Now I have a depressing celtic-like sound in my head. And I didn't have it earlier today, so... I think this chapter managed to get a kinda slightly depressing feeling thingy-like thing.:confused:

Anyways, nice chapter. Well done.:)

Thanks, knowing that someone reads it gives me motivation to continue. And the depressiveness, yeah, I was kind of aiming at that.

Good story, reminds me of Lord of the Rings for some reason :p .

Good chapter, MM. Yeah, it kind of reminded me of Lord of the Rings, too. I think that was mainly because of the action with the flying Sligs and whatnot. :)

This is a bit off topic, I know. Sorry. But anyways. The sound that was in my head I mentioned earlier was from the scene where Boromir died in LotR: FotR.
Hmm.
This can become a Véry interesting story. *awaits next chapter*

Bravo!
I'm digging the character development.
Your writing style=purty good. You have my encouragement and my congratulations.
Don't let a year go by before you finish this, like someone else we know... :goof:

Thanks for all that you guys. I hope to have the next chapter up by maybe Monday, or Tuesday. I've got an idea of what'll happen for the next couple of chapters so they shou;ldn't take too long, but I can feel a writer's block slowly approaching. But hopefully I'll get some ideas before then. And the Lord of the Rings thing? Well, maybe. I'm not sure how it causes that idea, but it being like LoTR can only be good.

Iye, tis good. Thou hast created some good characters and a good setting. Thou should be proud of thyself!

And while I'm not speaking Old English, its great, your characters are all intriging (isn't there a U in that word somewhere?) and there stories are good (if all a little similar).
THere was something a little wierd about that chapter. It's generally difficult putting characters direct thought into a third person story, it's just hard to do well! It's still good though.

And I'm still looking forward to seeing a plot developing. Judging by the title, it's set to be a good one. Epic.

Hmm well, I think they're only similar in their method of capture, their actual stories should hopefully be different as time progresses. The thing about seeing it from each character's thoughts in third person is actually something inspired by your fics Splat. I saw your multiple first person thing and I decided to try a multiple third person that switched between the characters in the chapter. I don't man to confuse anyone by that but,yeah. The whole method of capture deal was actually inspired by the Vykkers capturing Munch in the MO cinematic, but some LOTR probably leaked into it as well. And yes it is epic, these guys are merely the characters for part 1 of a full quintology but, as with the real quintology, characters that are overlooked could prove to be important in the long run. Larry, Trevor, Max and that lot will appear for 3 fics, then we move on to a new, slightly smaller group of characters for 2-3 books, then another group for 2-3 books, then who knows? Dave knows, that's who! Anyway expect chapter 3 by Monday.

Howdy!
 

Well, the next chapter is written, but it won't be up until tomorrow, so I can review it, alter things I need to alter etc. Although I'm not very happy with it, and I doubt I will be no matter what I do with it. It's a very long chapter, very long, and I'm just not that pleased with how it's turned out. But, I'll post it up tomorrrow. Stay tuned until then.

Yeah, it happens, once I did a complete rewrite, once I actually edited it later and it was a lot better. I just added a few of Munch's private thoughts (ingrateful mudokons, stupid Splat, so on and so forth) and it was actually ok, not the best but I was happy with it.

And I'm honoured to here you're inspired by my story! I haven't even got one published yet and people are already developing from my ideas!
But yeah, can't wait till update, I'm off to see if the month-long writers block has finally worn off and I can get out another chapter of TQFTO.

Well, her's chapter 3! This is actually only half of my original chapter 3, but I felt it was too long so I split it to make more tension and make it less of a chore (it was very very long originally.) I think that splitting it may have salvaged this chapter, as it givea it better tension and adds another important character into the mix. Enjoy:

Chapter 3: Trials and Tribulations

A hammering on the cell door woke Larry and the others up. That was strange, normally they would simply have a Slig barge in and yell loudly and incessantly at them all to wake up, causing them all to stagger bleary eyed out of their gritty cells and off to that day’s first work session.
The banging continued, followed by a muttering of “Oops, forgot I had the keys.” Larry smirked as he realised who the guard was. A chink and the door creaked on rusty hinges and swung open. Sure enough, it was Arthur. Larry smirked again to himself. Arthur was alright as far as Sligs go. He was extremely lazy, even by Slig standards, and actually wasn’t that mean. Sure, you could still get a beating from him, but it normally only occurred if you annoyed him. Even then, he was often lighter in the beating than others. Considering the normal Slig mentality, Arthur was almost what you could call clever and actually, friendly. You might even be able to get a decent snack off him if you did as he said and brought him the Daily Deception newspaper for him during his work shift.
Many of Larry’s cellmates were complaining at Arthur’s noisy arrival, as normal ‘waking’ (If you could call getting yelled at by Sligs and clubbed until you got up and headed off to your Zulag station waking) time was at 5:00 am, rather than 3:30. Larry and a yawning, slightly disorientated Trevor exchanged looks. The early waking time was for Larry, as his oh so unenjoyable Slog feeding punishment for escaping was at 3:35, nice and early so he could like it as little as possible.

“Y-yeah I’m c-coming Arthu-ur.” Slurred a half-asleep Larry as he flopped out of the hard, bloodstained, corrugated metal board that formed the beds of the slaves’ quarters.
“Larry, I almost like ya, so I don’ really wanna have ta make you do this, but you shouldn’t try to escape. Yeh’ll only get yerself killed, and besides, you’re breaking factory rules.” Honked Arthur as he clamped his hand around Larry’s arm and frogmarched him out of the cell.
“Ugh.” Was Larry’s only answer.

“Look, consider yerself lucky it’s me. At least you aren’t gettin’ knocked about by another guard fer taking your time an’ I was considerate enough ta give you a few minutes to get up an’ out of bed.” Arthur remarked to him as they exited the slave quarters and began heading up a corridor to the sloghuts.

“Gee, wasn’t whoever set your rota kind to me eh?” Replied Larry dryly.

“’Cause I’m nice, I ain’t going ta hit you. Watch yerself though Larry, insultin’ yer superiors will only get you hurt more.” Larry noticed two things about what Arthur said there. The first being the fact that Arthur referred to him as Larry, rather than the customary ‘mud’, ‘slave’ or curse-name that the other Sligs spoke to the mudokons by. The second thing was the pained emphasis and distasteful expression on Arthur’s face as he said ‘superiors’. Maybe Arthur doesn’t like this place as much as he claims. Thought Larry to himself.
Larry stayed silent for the short remainder of the journey, grimacing inside as he saw the now-familiar, blood and rust-encrusted doors of the room in which the sloghuts were. Arthur released his grip on Larry and walked out of the room, leaving him to the mercies of the supervising Slig. Again, Arthur seemed to be less vicious than the other Sligs, letting go instead of hurling him face-first to the floor, and he muttered to Larry as he passed:
“Look, I know how many times you’ve tried escapin’ Larry, and Management’ll check the records eventually, so I’d not try again if I were yer.” And with that he exited, and Larry was alone with the Slig and the Slogs.
“Well, get to it p*sshead.” Spat the Slig.
Larry tiredly plodded over to the meat bucket to pick up some bones and scraps for the Slogs, which were clamouring and barking to be let out of their kennels and into the feeding area, when he looked at the bucket. Wait, he thought, where’s the bucket?
He turned to the Slig, who ha lit up a cigar and was grinning cruelly.
“Hey uh-sir, there’s no food here, how do I feed them?” He asked the Slig, cocking his head to one side as the Slig began to laugh openly.
“You figure it out, mud.” He guffawed as he pushed Larry into the large, open feeding pit.
END OF CHAPTER

Please read and reply. Expect chapter 4 by Friday or Thursday.

GAH!
 

GAH! Larry's gonna get eaten by stomachs on legs! OH NO! The HORROR! Arthur, get your metal butt back there and save Larry's skin!

*bounces up and down* Now I REALLY want another installment, cliffhangers are so cruel!

Yet so fun to write and inflict on other people. :devil:

Yes, I love doing cliffhangers, seeing people desparately anticipate what's next is great, but not if someone does that in a fic you're reading. Then it sucks. And I know exactly what's next. Next chapter on Thursday or Friday, sooner if I get enough replies. [/hint]

Man, yer good.
That's a cool chapter.
Post the next one... whenever you want....
But anyway, keep up teh good woik.;)

I thought it was about time to let in my thoughts, so here theyare. I think it's quite interesting how you've givin a slig the ability to show compassion. And I aslo really like the dialogue you use. Keep it up!

Wow, you really are a good writer! And now Larry is about to become slog-treats. What a fantastic day he's having!

Yeah, a bit of foresight by Arthur, can't wait to here more. I can see why you didn't want to give to much about him away on W@RF. I'm getting the feeling he'll be helping out a little!
Good writing, good plot, good gravy I wanna know how he gets out of this mess!

Well, the way he gets out at the moment I don't like, so I'm rewriting it.

Re writing?

Well, it worked for chapter 3, so I won't complain.

But don't keep us waiting too long, alright? You've already got more people posting replies to your story as I ever had, so you've clearly surpassed me. Keep things rolling, would ya?!

Well, I'll be nice I think. Here's chapter 4, my worst chapter yet (Hooray:rolleyes:)

Chapter 4: The Punishment

Crap. Larry thought as he fell into the pit. He landed with a hard, rather painful and ever so slightly squelching whump at the bottom. The Slig cackled loudly again “Yer’ve let yerself in fer it now mud.” Larry slowly picked himself up off the ground, rubbing his back and finding-Yuck! -remains of the Slogs’ previous meals on his back. Picking the bits of flesh and slivers of bone off his back, he turned around as the metal doors of the kennels grated up. Double crap. He thought as the Slogs scurried out. A good dozen or so of very big, bulky, fully grown Slogs were sniffing around, trying to detect their meal. Which is me. Larry thought miserably. Smaller sloggies ran around, yipping as they picked at the odd few remains from previous feedings. Larry knew they’d be after him right about….now. Which they were.

The bigger Slogs seemed to have picked up his scent and, just as Larry thought this, as if on cue, some of the Slogs began to approach him. Larry did all he could do. He began scooping up handfuls of the leftover flesh, and piling it up in front of him. The slogs were still nearing, going faster now at the smell of fear and raw meat. Larry knew not to panic, noise and fear gets you detected by 'em and killed, he thought, picking up a decent sized, relatively intact bone.

“Nice Slog, good Slog,” Larry spoke quietly to the nearest Slog, whistling to get its attention. As it ran towards him, he tossed it the bone. The slog had opened its jaws to bite Larry, but instead the bone landed in its mouth. One down Larry thought. The other Slogs were mainly eating at the pile of carcasses Larry had hurriedly made, but with so many eating at it; there was soon little meat left.

“Oy, yer supposed to feed ‘em fresh meat not leftover stuff ya f**kbrain!” The supervisor Slig yelled at him. Larry ignored him for now, concentrating on staying alive. He picked up what looked to be half of a Scrab’s rib, and tossed it at a Slog nearby. Unfortunately for Larry, he hit it on the head rather than in its mouth. The Slog began growling and barking angrily, certainly preparing to charge. Larry couldn’t hide his fear now, and the scent of fear just gave the beast a beacon towards him.

The Slog lunged on him, bowling him over and it began ripping and biting at his leg. Larry swore and tried to get it off, but that prompted the creature to snap at his hands and continue mauling his leg. Larry knew he was in a fair deal of trouble now. He panicked more and more and screamed in pain as it continued biting, sure it would reach the bone. That’s it, a bone! He thought. Larry clawed around, finally laying hands on a chewed, cracked but still intact bone by the wall of the feeding pit. His paw’s fingers brushed it and finally clasped it, and he swung the bone at the Slog’s head, prompting a yell from the Slig above.

“Hey, yer can’t attack the Slogs!” Once again Larry ignored him. The Slog however, had recovered from the blow, and was pretty mad , meaning Larry was in a lot of danger once again. It snapped at Larry was holding Larry, aiming for where the blow came from, and ended up locking its jaws around the bone he was holding. Larry quickly let go, relieved inside that it hadn’t got him. Fortunately it then began gnawing and chewing on the bone, leaving the injured Larry to huddle down and try to rest his hurt leg. The Slig above, seeing that the Slog had left Larry, seemed to get bored with the spectacle. He watched Larry whimper a little longer, but grew tired of it. Rummaging around for a packet of cigars, he plucked one out, lit it, and started to smoke while taking out a copy of the Daily Deception. at least he's not paying too much attention now. Larry thought, futilely trying to stem the blood flow with his paw.

A couple of the other Slogs approached him, sniffing for the scent of warm, fresh blood. Larry was a bit surprised by this, as the pit was ful of blood, albeit dried blood. He dragged himself over to the ribcage he had been crouched by earlier, and desparately tried to snap a rib off. One of the slogs had started charging at him, so Larry thought fast. He crawled over the Scrab ribcage, trying to let as much blood of his smear onto it as was healthily possible.The Slog continued its charge, and bombed into the ribcage, snapping a couple of the bones. It started gnawing at one fragment, but Larry knew it soon would be done.

He seized a sizeable piece of a rib that had cracked at an angle, forming a sharp edge. Ensuring the Slig was immersed in the paper, Larry started stabbing at the Slog with the bone. The creature reacted ferociously and leapt at him, but by now it had been stabbed with the bone 3 times, and was dead as it hit him. The thing went into convulions, the smell of dying, fear and blood attracting the other Slogs like Iron filings to a magnet. Just to be sure, Larry stabbed another Slog that was ripping at the dead one, hoping that would provide suffcient meat to feed the beasts. The Slogs pounce on the dying Slog in a frenzy, fighting each other for the meat, bting and growling, snarling and tearing. Soon, sveral more Slogs were wounded, and they then became set upon by the other Slogs. Unfortunately, the commotion atttracted the attention of the Slig, who, looking down, saw the Slogs fighting and eating each other.
"Hey, what did yer do ter make 'em do that?" He leered at Larry.
"Uh, n-nothing, sir. They j-just started, fighting each other. I think the bl-lood and lack of food m-made them go canni-bu-bal." Larry stammered, hoping he had made himself sound confused but not overdone it.
"That's weird, cause you were s'posed ta fill in fer the lack o' food." The Slig growled at Larry, tapping hi foot on the ground.
"They hurt m-my le-gu-g, maybe the b-blood confused them." Larry got out, the blood loss starting to make him slur and stammer for real. He shrank away as a hefty Sloggie started sniffing at him, curling up into a ball small enough that made the sloggie lose interest and turn back to the more meaty Slog carcass nearby.
"Well, I still don' believe ya." He spat. And the Slig studie the Slogs.

The beasts were now picking at scraps of the carcasses or fighting each other, and Larry lay there, trying to stay small and insignificant as he watched on. A couple of Slogs did approach him at times, believing him to be a wounded Slog, but Larry grabbed any remains he could find in reach (however unpleasant it was to pick up Slog enttrails) and threw it away, distracting the beasts and sending them away, giving him time to quietly move into another corner. This didn't please the Slig though
"Ey, what uyer up ter? Why'd yer do that gobs***e?"
Larry was getting woozy now, and barely replied "I w-w-was j-just tr-tr-tryin-g to l-live, so I c-caa-n-n s-still w-work."

Just about satisfied, the Slig guard fired his gun into the air. That meant the feeding was over. The Slogs froze at the gunshot, and then returned slowly and warily to their kennels, understanding the sound as a signal to stop. Larry sighed as it was over and shakily hauled himself up, using the dead Slogs and pit side as support,then the Slig hauled him out of the pit by his neck; and threw him down on the floor. Larry lay there for a while, moaning slightly and cradling his wounded leg. “Consider yerself lucky yer survived mud.” The Slig sneered at him, spitting on Larry then kicking him in the ribs. The Slig then decided to take a more active notice of Larry’s injury and purposely stepped on his hurt leg before bending down and once again, roughly hauling Larry up.

“Now back ter work, yer lazy scrounger. An’ yer gonna be workin’ with that bad leg, serves ya right fer trying ta escape an' kill the Slogs.” Larry cursed inwardly, and remained silently in agony as the Slig marched him (slowly, to cause him more stress on his wounded leg) off to the mess hall. “Oh, and yer’ve missed breakfast if yer were wondering, so get in there and get ter yer station, slave.” The Slig dumped him down on the floor in the hall then stomped back off to his post.

Larry half dragged, half limped over to an eating table and sat down heavily, looking around through teary eyes as the mudokons still here ambled off to their posts. He saw Trevor approaching with a look of concern on his face, but didn’t feel like recounting the punishment right now. Larry just tilted his head back, resting it on the rough but cool surface of the dining table, and closed his eyes, trying to blot out the pain.
~~~~~~~~~~
There you go. And it might be a while unti lthe next chapter, as I am almost clean out of ideas. Still, read and reply and I may have motivation to come up with stuff. Don't reply and, well, I'll think of something anyway as I like writing it. So either way you win. Aren't I kind?

That was alright, though I would suggest if you do rewrite that he smacks some of the slogs with a bone, maybe be kills one to distract the others. If the slig had to leave the room while the slogs were eating he wouldn't notice and would of course help Larry out at the end of the feeding, if somewhat reluctantly. Knowing slogs there probably wouldn't be a massive amount of scraps keft from previous meals! Still, it's your story. You said you were unhappy and that would be my suggestion.

But it was once again, well written, good emotions, you did a good job of capturing the image of Larry hudling away in the corner watching the slog that could at any moment turn on him. Twas good. Keep going!

Glad you liked it. Your idea is good, I'll do that. I just wonder how Larry will kill the Slog? I'm sure i'll pull it off. Right, off to edit again!

Clonk it on the noggin!

It's your story, you tell me!

I've done it now, the changes have been made. I am happier now with it, and I'm fairly happy with how he kills it. So I have now told you. Next chapter by Sunday if you're/i'm lucky (i.e: I can think of something to write)