Heh, great comments, guys. Well, I won't keep you waiting any longer.
I'd think of some kind of wise and/or funny thing to say right now, and make your respect for me go up a bit higher, but I can't think of anything right now. Maybe it's somewhere in The Lost Chapter, I dunno....
Anyway, I'm typing this completely in the post box, so hopefully you won't see the
's any more.
Here we go.
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CHAPTER 2: New Faces, In The Same Place(s)
Bullet Magnet kicked open the door to the cafeteria, and a explosion of sound hit them like a train.
Laughter, sobs of terror, regular conversation, shrieks of pleasure, and even a few zombie moans were heard. Although, they moans were somewhat normal, in the daily life of OWF. It was probably just Goresplatter raising people from the dead, again. Mitsur made a mental note never to lend out an evil tome of immeasurable evil again.
Then again, he should've known not to let OANST borrow the evil, spirit-possesing daedra-summoning book disguised as a bedtime-story book for his daughters. Maybe he shouldn't have blamed that on Snuzi.....
Forcing the thought out of his mind, he walked with Bullet to the bar at the far side of the cafeteria. At the regular tables, sat the less-expirienced members. Ever since Alcar had implemented the one-thousand posts or more areas, it had been noticiably easier to have a coherent and intelligent conversation. The only way you were allowed with less than 1k posts was if you were specifically allowed by an already-admitted member to go to the bar. If you didn't have either of those two requirments, you were in for a very long ride.
Mitsur and Bullet sat down at a stool, the rest of the bar empty. The polished wood was so clean, they could see their reflections in it.
Bullet immediately slammed his head onto the bar, and pulled back up. A scruffed-up, blood-colored mark was left. Bullet looked stunned.
"I thought that was my evil twin..." he said dazedly. "The bastard seems to be following me around, lately..."
Mitsur, however, was paying no attention, as he was combing his hair by the reflection. And by 'combing', that meant 'running his hand through his horrible bed-head'.
As he gazed down at his beautiful and dashing face, a hand slammed on top of his reflection, making Mitsur jumped. He looked up, and was horrified to see Old and Not So Tasty running the bar. Patrick, it seemed, was on a vacation.
"Geez, you pussy..." OANST muttered. "All I did was put my hand on the bar."
"Yeah, but you'd freak out if you almost lost a head, too." Mitsur countered.
"You wouldn't lose much there, so what's there to be afraid of?" OANST taunted back. Bullet, by now, was passed out on the bar, apparently knocked out by his head-banging.
Mitsur sighed, realizing resistance was futile.
"Oh, now you have to rip off Star Trek?" OANST interrupted.
"How did you know-?" Mitsur began, but he was cut off, again. But not by OANST, but rather by Snuzi, who had dashed up to the bar, wild-eyed.
"Get me a tapioca pudding, and a piece of french bread, stat!" He said, panting heavily. OANST immediately thrust the items into Snuzi's hands, without comment or taunt.
Snuzi ran off, as foam began to flow from his mouth, and hair grew all over him.
"-that?" Mitsur finished lamely. But OANST had either forgotton about his Mitsur-abusing, or just didn't care anymore.
"What do you want?" He asked. Bullet awoke, coughing. Drool had caked his face as he was passed out, but otherwise he was fine.
"Where a I?! Am I dead? Am I in heaven? Yes, I must be!" He shouted excitedly, then he spotted OANST.
"Wait, he's here!? Oh my god, this must be the other place! Noooooooooooooooooooooo!"
Bullet ran off, sobbing uncontrolably. He slammed into a few walls, then sped out of the cafeteria to utter silence. However, after the door slammed shut, and his cries faded, volume eventually went up.
"What a retard...." OANST muttered, then turned back to Mitsur. "Now, before anyone else can interupt, what do you want?"
"I'll....er....have a-" Mitsur began, but was cut off again, and Havoc, Rexy, Splat, and Jordan walked up. Mitsur immediately went red in the face at the sight of Rexy, embarrased by his dream. He suddenly became extremely interested in tying his shoe. The group sat on a stool each, except for Rexy, who went off to the serving line to cook for the hungry members.
"Yo, Mitsur, how's it going? I just bought me some dope wheels from Michelin, and they are tight, yo. They are da filthy." Jordan said, faking an African-American accent.
"Uh, not much, really..." Mitsur muttered. "And what the hell does da filthy mean?" Jordan pretended not to hear. Havoc, however, Mitsur noticed, was holding something in his pocket. He saw that Mitsur was looking at his pocket, and quickly withdrew his hand.
Noting this strange behavior, Mitsur turned back to the bar, to see that OANST was gone, and had been replaced by the old bartender, Patrick.
"Where'd you come from? And where'd OANST go?" Mitsur asked stupidly.
"I got back from my vacation." Patrick replied simply. Mitsur left it at that.
Splat, by now, had removed the usual trenchcoat. His regular tuxedo stood out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else's regular clothes.
"Mitsur, why are you wearing a shirt that looks like a tuxedo?" Splat asked. "Trying to copy me, but not sophisticated enough?"
"Well, like Cal Naughton Jr. said about Jesus, the tuxedo shirt says, 'I want to be formal, but I'm here to party.' So, basically, I look cool and formal."
"Actually," Splat said, "You look kind of retarded."
"Eh, I can live with that."
"Not to interrupt this tender moment," Patrick interrupted, "But what do you guys want?"
"I'll have a glass of Ovaltine. More Ovaltine, please!" Jordan said, speaking in exactly the same tone of the children from the commercial.
"Oh, great, another sponsored member..." Havoc muttered, attaching straws to his face like whiskers, once again.
Jordan shrugged, but didn't respond. He ambled over to the breakfast line. (which read REXY'S POT O' MEAT)
None of the people at the bar expected to see him alive again.
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I apologize for the lack of length, but I will write more for the next chapter.
The only note I have is that Da Filthy is a refrence to apointlesswasteoftime.com, a hilarious humorsite. John uses the phrase da filthy in an article about Halo.
I also apologize for any misspellings, as I intentionally did not use Word, to try and prevent the
's. I had to rely on eye, and that means something got through.
