Wyvern

Broken Inside fidgets in her applicant easychair and clenches at the armrest with tense fingers. Her eyes dart from the mountains of paperwork to the window to the cluttered desktop to the uncluttered desktop to the neat-lookin clock to the paperwork to the door to the overstuffed drawers to the window. She hops out of her seat and begins pacing through the Office, touching and brushing over every object she approaches. She freezes upon arriving at the Office clock and clutches at it, moving her face inches away from its frame, her eyes glued to the ticking second hand as it approaches the numeral 12. "Sssorry for keeping you waiting!" Broken Inside jumps as Wyvern slams the Office door behind himself. The lizard strides into the Office and begins sorting through his messy desktop, tossing crumpled paperwork left and right. He perks up as a groan comes from the direction of the Office idoor, and shakes a claw in the direction of the door. "That's what you get for trying to jam on me in a time of need, grain-face." The groan is cut short as one of the desk drawers flies open on its own and slams into Wyvern's knee. The overgrown lizard yowls in pain and hops around the desk, then reaches for Broken Inside's application and pulls it from the corner of the piled paperwork. "Interesssting." Wyvern reads over the page and folds it. "Stuck windows. Well, at least they're better than stuck door-" Wyvern holds his scaly tongue as the desk seems to move an inch in his direction. He lets out a nervous laugh, and turns towards Woody to apologize only to watch as the door flies open again. Wyvern stutters and backs away as two children soar into the Office, chattering in loud voices. "Want a cooookiiiiiiiiiiieeeee." "Oh come on, we're gonna be stuck." "Cookie cookie cookie!" "Idiot! Let's go before-" Wyvern cringes as the two adolescents crash through the Office, knocking over one paper stack after another. The overgrown lizard bites his scaly lip and thinks fast, grabbing a leftover Tanuchan comfort cookie and waving it in the air. Having caught the girls' attentions, Wyvern tosses the cookie into the depths of the underused Office closet. The lizard watches them rush in, then shuts the aged closet door, seals it with a large lock, a d turns and stamps Broken Inside's application ACCEPTED. He hands the sheet to Broken Inside, and cringes as muffled voices echo from within the closet. "Great, now look what you've done!" "I have to peeeeeeeeeeeeee." ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Broken_Inside. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I hope that you find us a kind and welcoming community, and look forward to reading more of your work as well as participating with you in community events.

Sorry for the rather late update in this thread. I've had a few things brewing on the radio front and wanted to wait until I decided on some more themes before updating. It feels less like spamming this way, at least. ;-) My show two weeks ago on "Glitch Hop" ranked as probably the most experimental show that I've done, and I thought it turned out very well. I got a lot of mixed reactions from people on #thepen channel when I was playing it, which means it fufilled its purpose in striking some controversy. Knight seemed to be enjoying the vibes, which must be a good sign since he usually hates hip hop stuff. ;-) The Pen and various Pen listeners were shouted out as usual, and the host of the show after mine was impressed with the songs that I closed out with. Overall, it was good stuff. My show last week, which I didn't bother mentioning in this thread since it wasn't my most challenging theme, was entitled "Quannumatic" and was based on the Quannum hip hop collective from San Francisco, California. Quannum consists of Blackalicious (a favorite amongst pennites on "The Chronicles of Terra" compilation, if I recall), D.J Shadow, Latyrx, Maroons, Lyrics Born, Apsci, General Elektriks, and many more. The show went quite smoothly, and I played several tracks from a station promo of Blackalicious' new album "The Craft" a few days before the album came out. The real kicker of this show, though, is that the kind people at Quannum decided to record the show for me after I mentioned it to them. In fact, they not only recorded the show, but also gave me props in the 9/25/05 news entry on one of their main websites (http://www.solesides.com) and provided two MP3 clips of me shouting people out. The really funny part about this is that the second clip features shout outs to Appy, Sweetcherrie, and the Mighty Pen crew! Go check it out. I guess the Pen must be famous amongst bay area hip hop heads now. ;-) This week, I'm tagging my show "Adrenaline Rush" and am basing it on the speediest, most complex multi-syllabic deliveries imaginable. In other words: fastrapfastrapfastrapfastrap! I just might have to break out the micromachines guy voice in my announcements. Be sure to tune in if you're on a sugar high: 9/30/05, same place same time. Next week, I'm considering doing my second romantic hip hop show, which will be entitled "Eros Literate" and which should go a lot better than my first one several semesters ago (which was one of my first shows, if I'm not mistaken). I'm gonna try to make this show very worthy of checking out, and would like to try to get some Pen ladies to call in over the course of the evening if possible. I will be offering CD/candy prizes to any Pen gals who choose to call in to discuss the question of the evening, which I'll announce later. I will also be dressing up in a formal tux-style suit for this show, for you webcam oglers. ;-) 10/7/05 would be the date of this show if it were to occur next week, but I'm labeling it as "tentative" for the moment as I'd like to see if any Pen gals might be available then before I cement it. Please drop me a PM if you're a lady that might be interested in phoning in on that day, any help is greatly appreciated! If nobody shows interest in the next week or so, I'll probably postpone this show to a later date. Oh, and did I mention that I'll be recording this one to audio CDR with the station's equipment? ;-) That's all for now, thanks for reading/listening!

Wyvern rushes into the Cabaret Room in a typically belated manner, squeezing his way through a crack in a hologram of cryptomancer reciting slam poetry in front of several judges. The lizard admires the set-up of the chamber for a moment, his beady eyes mesmerized by a portrait of cryptomancer posing with a crowned Mallory and holding a paintbrush over his head. He ducks as a flock of holographic ravens passes overhead, then approaches the birthday pennite and extends a claw. "Happy Birthday cryptomancer!" Wyvern shakes cryptomancer's hand. "As a gift, I decided to get you the latest in wilderness fashion: Almost Dragonic Brand Hive-Worthy Pollen Makeup Powder™. One whiff of this stuff, and you'll make the pretty flamingos swoon with a single flap of your wings. Just watch." Cryptomancer raises a brow as Wyvern unscrews a small jar with his claws and shakes it over his scaly head. The toothy grin that follows is cut short, however, as a buzzing sound begins echoing towards the room. "My cue to exit," cries Wyvern as the buzzing reaches a roar. He drops his jar and scoops up a bit of cryptomancer's honey with one of his claws before departing. "Havvve aaaa nniiiiiccccceeeeee daaaaayyyyyyyy!" ;-) OOC: Happy belated, cryptomancer.

Caralyn hums to herself as she finishes sharpening her claws. She admires the elegence of their maximum potential, then tucks her knife back into her boot and lets her humming fade to a sigh. Her eyes dart to the oyster perpetual Rolodex clock standing in the corner of the room, and she squints to make sure she's not imagining the late hour. As she leans back in her applicant easychair, she wonders if she'll have to sharpen her claws again before the evening's out, just to get the Elder of Initiate's attention. Caralyn's question is answered as the Office door flies open and Wyvern barges into the room. The overgrown lizard wears an odd fisherman-style hat with various postage stamps attached to it and a return address written on its front rim. He drops the large suitecase he carries with a clank and rubs at an amulet-shaped bruise on his scaly left cheek, only to freeze and turn upon spotting the feline applicant. "A moment pleasssse." Wyvern strikes half a bow, then rushes to one of the overflowing file cabinets that clutter the Office. "Need to change quick, be right back." Caralyn stands from her seat and taps her foot on the ground as the reptilian Elder disappears behind the rows of drawers. She raises a brow and crosses her arms over her chest as the dirty Hawaiin shirt the lizard had been wearing goes flying over the top of the cabinet. Caralyn stares blankly as the lizard reemerges from the makeshift dressing area wearing an even dirtier version of the same Hawaiin shirt. He grins to her and snatches her application piece from Melba's desktop. "Good thing I always keep a bunch of my used shirtsss laying around the Office." Wyvern grins and glances at the sheet. "Some people call it 'not doing laundry.' I call it: semi-professional clothing reserves!" Caralyn nods and tries to ignore the ugly-looking beer stain on Wyvern's "fresh" Hawaiin T-shirt. She watches as the lizard carefully reads over her application pieces, then perks up as he turns to her with a toothy grin. "Nicely done." Wyvern sets the two sheets on top of his own desk, which makes Melba's clutter look like the world's cleanest desktop. "Though I must admit, I'm alienated fromyour first since my kisses usually start and end with a slap. *grumble* The child in your second piece looks like a perfect target to steal candy from, though. I'll keep him in mind." With that, Wyvern stamps Caralyn's Pen application ACCEPTED. He then looks her over for a moment, and scrawls the phrase "seek out Katzaniel, Mynx and Lord Panther for feline comfort" underneath the red glaze of the stamp. ;-) OOC: A set of ACCEPTED application poems, Caralyn. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I hope that you find us a friendly and welcoming community to write in, and look forward to reading more of your stuff as well as roleplaying with you. Once again, welcome!

Wyvern strokes his scaly chin, observing Catalyn's paw movements from his stool in the corner. He clears his throat of a few ashes as Gyrfalcon passes him a bar tab, and plucks the paper up with a claw. The greedy lizard eyes the other bar stools for a moment, then pauses upon noticing Ugh the troll bouncer downing a bucket of Bruteweiser. Wyv breaks into a toothy grin and hops from his stool, the bar tab coiled in his claw. "Scuse me, Ugh?" The troll grunts and lifts his face from his "lamb and a half" platter. Wyvern waves the bar tab in his face and points in the direction of Mira. "Sssorry to interrupt your feast, but I think that guy with the long hair and the nice hat over there is tryin to play a practical joke by passing you his tab." Wyvern drops the bar tab onto Ugh's table. He snickers to himself as the troll spits the lamb ribcage he was chewing from his mouth and scowls at the paper. Wyvern rushes over to Caralyn and Daryl as Ugh lifts himself from his seat. "Well, not really." Daryl smiles at Caralyn. "The Pen tends to be peaceful, so-" "Daryl!" Wyvern barges into the conversation, pointing a claw towards the bar. "Looks like a brawl might be goin down, you better get over there." Daryl casts a glance towards the bar, and frowns upon seeing Ugh rolling up his sleeves and storming towards Mira. "I'll be right back." Caralyn watches as Daryl heads towards the bar, then jumps as Wyvern slides up next to her. "Welcome to the Mighty Pen." The lizard extends a claw in greeting. "I'm Wyvern, the Pen's most reliable source for finance and bussssiness endeavors." "Oh." Caralyn hesitates at the lizard's sneer. "Nice to meet you." "You know, you don't look like too innocent a kitten." Wyvern strokes his chin and grins, then reaches into his tunic and pulls out several documents. "And you have quite a voice, from what I've recently heard. What would you say if I offered you a position as the very first Almost Dragonic Brand Anti-Nightingale™? A few minor uninteresting little details in the fine print, but guaranteed guest spots on the most recent Racouolette albums and a strong Anti-Marissa Argentine orientation in the singing." ;-)

Raging Red Gecko Attacks Pen Gazette Headquarters The tip of the rat's tail pointed upward like a miniature lever, peeking from behind the lower rim of the coffee machine. Christopher paid no attention to the detail in Lucy's photo, dismissing it for an emergency sugar cube vending device. He shoved the picture from his desktop and leaned back in his seat, kicking his feet up and reaching for his cigs. The pack of Salamanderstone Lights gave off a dull reflection in the Office light. "Did she say 'Wyvern?" Christopher glanced around, then tossed the pack of cigarettes to the side. He reached into another pocket and pulled out his Nicotina Extra Extra Heavies. "Yeah, she must've said 'Wyvern.'" Christopher lit up a hefty cigarette, then flicked the remains of the match into a nearby wastebasket. He turned to the paperwork on his desk and contemplated which call to make first, only to pause as the horns protruding from the trash suddenly registered in his mind. "Sssscuse me." The wastebasket hopped towards his desk. Its hiss was close to a whisper. "Can you, errr, direct me to Sweetcherrie's Office? I need to take her on a d- I mean, apply for the Office trashcan position that recently opened." Chris smirked. "Sure, it's down the hall and to the left. She's busy, so you'll probably need to make an appointment." He took out a pen and pad. "In the mean time, would you mind if I interview you about the recent incident involving female vocalist Marissa Argentin, Mr. Wyvern?" The wastebasket jumped as the 'W' word was mentioned. Christopher froze in place as several rats holding cameras the size of themselves jumped from their hiding places and aimed their lenses at the trembling trash. Wyvern sprang from the depths of the rubbish like a turbo jack-in-the-box and sprinted full speed ahead. "No comment!" Christopher watched as the rats chased Wyvern in the direction of Sweetcherrie's office, and cringed as several slams, crashes, screams, and squeaks were heard. He bit his lip as Wyvern dashed back into his working quarters pulling Sweetcherrie by the hand. The head of the Gazette had numerous papers clenched between her teeth, and two document folders overflowing in her hands. "W-Wyvern." Sweetcherrie cursed as the papers dropped from her mouth. "What're y- I was in the middle of a- what're tho-? "No time to explain, news rats, gotta run. They catch us on camera, n' the articles they publish'll be cheesier than this pun. We'll go get what ya want to eat, then go check out the new party animal exhibit at the zoo, waddayasay it's a date?!" Wyvern was halfway out the second-story office window before Sweetcherrie had time to respond. She skidded and cringed as the lizard's claw urged her towards the exterior window frame. In the office behind her, the news rats steadily aimed their cameras, their whiskers twitching in anticipation...

I saw 13 & God (The Notwist & Themselves) and Boy in Static at the Black Cat in Washington D.C this evening. This is the first time I've managed to get out to a show involving doseone, who is one half of Themselves and one of the most innovative and original M.Cs out there. I shook hands with him before the show started and then took my regular place in the front row to wait for the opening act. Boy in Static, a downtempo/soft rock band, was the first act to perform. The three-person band consisted of a lead vocalist/guitar player, a keyboard player, and a person working an MPC drum machine. They had a very warm melodic feel to their music, though it seemed more like music to daydream to than music to dance to. The most interesting part of their set was watching the MPC get played live, as I was unaware that it was used as an instrument in live shows. It was interesting to watch the person in charge of the machine frantically jabbing at buttons for different drum sounds while they played. Boy in Static had some very good tracks, but their vibe sort of got boring before their set had finished. Overall, they were a decent opening act. 13 & God then set up countless instruments for their set, and doseone proceeded to completely steal the show. A few things to note about Dose from the start: for someone who's constantly labeled as head of the "nerd rap" movement, I was surprised at how well built and muscular he was. He had a bizarre red mohawk haircut, and came out wearing a formal suite with a single angel wing hanging from the back of it. He also had on a really weird belt that constantly flashed neon letters across itself. Everyone played their music well, but doseone definitely stole the show with his daring stage theatrics. He had numerous props with him, including a toy bird, several hollow containers shaped like pills, and a projector that projected images of a golden George Washington and the letter 'E' amongst other things. There was not a single moment during the set where he was still, and his body language really conveyed the things he was rapping/singing/speaking about. At one point in the set, he tossed spare change onto the ground and introduced a song by rolling around on the floor screaming "look at all this money! There's a fortune here!" Later, he licked every Mastercard in his wallet and searched the hair of audience members for flowers. Jel also did an excellent job on the MPC drum machine (much better than the Boy in Static player) and Markus Archer's guitar complemented doseone's vocals well (though I've never been a big fan of Archer's singing). 13 & God performed two encores for the lively audience, consisting mostly of older Themselves tracks. I definitely felt that my 13 dollars were well-spent at this show, and highly recommend seeing doseone live.

"'Scuse me sir?" Knight and Mira turn at the sound of the stilted voice. A pimpled goblin dressed in a stained brown "Pustill" shirt takes an uneasy step forward, a clipboard clutched in one hand and a time-stamped box slung in the other. The goblin's voice oscilates with the awkwardness of puberty, grating like a chalk Q-tip in a blackboard golem's ear. "Package to sign, sir." The goblin glances at the box for a moment, and makes sure that the "fragile" arrows are pointing towards the ground before dropping it. Gyrfalcon steps forward as the goblin sticks the clip board in front of himself, waving it like a last line of defense. "Sign here, sir." Gyrfalcon examines the package-delivery document and reads over its legalities, then takes out a quill and signs it. He cringes as a trail of snot leaks from the goblins nose, dripping inches away from his fingers. "And here, sir." The goblin flips to a new return-address/sender affiliation document, which Gyrfalcon reads over and signs. "And here, sir." The goblin flips to yet another page, this one detailing a check pasted in the center. The faded check is made out for the sum of "one quajillion geld," and lacks a signature. Several arrows are doodled around the check in a familiar almost dragonic scrawl, paired with the phrase "Sign here!" "No thanks." Gyrfalcon frowns and tucks his quill away. "Thank you for the delivery service. Here's a silver." The goblin stares in fascination and turns the silver piece in his hands like a crown jewel. He flashes Gyrfalcon an open grin of three jagged teeth, then steps over the delivered box with a crunch as he wanders back the way he came. "Odd." Daryl removes the envelope attached to the top of the box, raising a brow at the writing scrawled on the front. To: Ultra-Super Sweetcherrie 'n' Gryphon Rescue Squadron From: Anonymous Almost Dragonic Source "No wonder Wyv had to use the 'Pustill' service." Daryl shakes his head sadly, then pauses as he pulls out a postcard from the envelope. The photo on the front of the card depicts three sultry sirens in bikinis, blowing kisses towards the camera. Attached to the sirens' backs is a large sea monster, which appears to be devouring an entire "Playboy Mansion Cruiseliner" behind them. The words "Wish you were here?" are printed in red caligrophy on the front, and the phrase "I didn't think so" is typed in small letters on the back. "Geeze, can his tastes get any worse?" Mira and Knight gather around the card, huddling with Daryl and Gyrfalcon. "What does it say?" Daryl clears his throat and reads: Dear Ultra-Super Sweetcherrie 'n' Gryphon Rescue Squadron, I recently recieved telepathic word of Sweetcherrie and Gryphon's dilemmas, but am unfortunatly detained from the Pen's quarters due to a grudge held by a certain Amulet-sporting barbarian. I still feel obliged to help out in some way, so I've sent several items that should prove most useful in your crusade. Enclosed in this package are: 5 Mighty Pen Street Team T-shirts, cus heroism is a powerful means of advertising. 1 Cassette Tape of 'Ultra-Super Sweetcherrie 'n' Gryphon Rescue Squadron Theme Song," recorded by the Racouolettes for such an occasion. 1 Tanker of Almost Dragonic Brand Lemonoaid Overstock™, in case you get thirsty. 1/2 of an Idiot's Flashlight for fending off shadows. Batteries not included. 1 Almost Dragonic Brand Party Twister/Studded Mace™ for my disciple Anna. 1 broken rubber band Use them wisely. Taa taa, Wyvern

Wyvern speeds into the Cabaret Room and screeches to a tumultuous halt. The overgrown lizard glances in both directions, then pulls out a long line of kitchen utensils connected on a string of sporks. He digs into his pocket and pulls out an Almost Dragonic Brand Sheet of Ultra-Noisy Music™, then tosses it to the side and spreads his scaly arms in a composer pose. The reptilian Elder strikes a quick bow, and throws the variety of kitchen equipment onto the ground in a cacophonous clatter. "Hear yee, hear yee!" Wyvern kicks the utensils in several irritating clangs. "Please feel free to wish the Mighty Pen's own Racouol a Happy Birthday, even if it is sssslightly belated." Having shouted this, the lizard digs into his pouch and pulls out a bag of Almost Dragonic Brand Novelty Deep-Pocket Stuffers™ tied in a ribbon. He unwraps the gift and checks inside to make sure that a distorted microphone has been included, along with an Almost Dragonic Brand Corner Pocket Drill™ designed to shape holes in the size of geld pieces. Wyvern then rewraps the gift bag in a messy and haphazard manner, and tosses it onto the pile of kitchen "instruments." "Best wishessss." ;-) OOC: A Happy Birthday to Racouol, who turned 25 on Sunday.

"Spiteless in the fight drinking fee without plight noise of names from dry lips but his is a whisper amid chaos. The Amulet of Muttering protection at the cost of clarity his name is all I hear. His sssole words that give warmth are the answer that he didn't know: how many beers were on his tab and how many were on mine." Wyvern strikes a toothy grin and ends the last line with the flick of a forked tongue and a wink. He sets his wet poem blender down on his cluttered desktop, then goes about attempting to dislodge a tiny pink umbrella from between his jagged teeth. Petey shifts in his seat for a moment, twitching as he watches the lizard grate at the umbrella with a claw. Tanuchan frowns and digs into her supplies for more comfort cookies. "You wouldn't happen to be Mr. Wyvern, would you?" Wyvern turns his attention to Petey and sneers. "The one and only." Wyvern wanders up to Petey's seat and examines the cookies at his side for a moment. He lowers his snout and sniffs for a moment, powdering them with ash, then begins stuffing several of them into his pockets. "I can see where the confusion might arise of course, given my infamy for month-long lunchbreaks I take it you're the latest applicant, given your recited poem and former Tanuchan comfort cookies?" "Errr." Petey watches as Wyvern snatches his poem sheet with an urgent claw. "Yes, that's right." "Well, thisss is certainly acceptable." Wyvern taps a claw on the sheet and nods. He rushes to his desk and fishes for his favorite stamp. He then marks the poem "ACCEPTED" in a rapid movement. "Now, if you'll excussse, I've got to run. Ta-taa!" Petey and Tanuchan watch in confusion as Wyvern drops Petey's ACCEPTED application poem and rushes out of the Office. They stand in silence for a long moment, then raise their brows as a bulky, muscular man barges in through the Office door. The hulk grunts and adjusts the amulet on his left wrist, then turns to the two figures in attendence and mutters something incomprehensible. Petey and Tanuchan both chime in at the same time: "Excuse me?" The large man grunts and mumbles something, then moves in closer to them and mutters: "Yo-umm, y'know, seen lizard? He uhh, somethin, you know the thing, he owes. For beers." ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application Petey, welcome to the Mighty Pen! I hope you find the Pen a friendly and welcoming writing community to write in, and look forward to reading more of your poetry and writing. Once again, welcome!

The "L.A Style's Back" show I hosted last Friday went well, and included everything from the Shapeshifters to 2Pac. Shout outs were given to pen people who were listening in, as well as to our resident L.A pennites (you know who you are :-)) and to the Mighty Pen as a whole. I also had a chance to school several first year D.Js on how to work the station boards over the course of the show, and it was a lotta fun overall. This week, I'll be delving into the world of "Glitch Hop." Please remain calm: the sounds coming from your speakers are not indicative of a hardware malfunction. More bleeps and bloops than Road Runner with a speech impediment. A little IDM, a little hip hop, and a whole lot of the two intertwined... not to mention even more arrogant psychobabble from yours truly. Will I plug my nose up to sound like an android? Maybe. Tune into "Any Given Moment's" take on "Glitch Hop" this Friday (9/16/05), same place and time.

Wyvern barges into the Cabaret Room and wipes some sweat from his scaly brow. He glances left and right to make sure the proper decorations have been set, then grins to himself and strikes a picture-frame pose with his claws. Dark candles outline the walls of the room, lit by dim flames that give the traditional elven art portraits and fresh gnoll skin rug of the room a gothic feel. Wyvern paces back and forth, tapping on the gigantic Bruteweiser bottle thrones that sit adjacent to him and grinning at the little sparkles of fizz that float to the top. He seats himself on each of the large bottle openers connected to the thrones to test their stability, then strides back in the direction of the Cabaret entrance. "Where're the tables?!" Wyvern signals down the hall, gritting his teeth. "They were supposed to be here seven minutesss ago, ya sloths! Get a move on!" The grunt work crew continued slowly down the hall, careful not to drop the heavy ends of the gothic arcitecture. On top of the table sat two gifts: an Almost Dragonic Brand Dehydration Mug™ (used for stopping people that try to sober drunks with water) and a tiny Almost Dragonic Brand Spider Bandaid™ for any similar sores that might arise. "Hurry up, ya dumb lugs!" Wyvern stomped his feet and tail on the ground. "I ain't got all day, the members of honor are bound to arrive at any minute." The grunt crew paused upon arriving next to Wyvern. "Here, you take it then ya stupid lizard!" Wyvern cries out as the worker crew shoves the enormous table into his claws. The lizard careens backwards into the Cabaret Room and collapses with a painful crash, narrowly avoiding contact with a booze thrown. "Ugh..." Wyvern's high-pitched squeak of pain echoed through the Room. "Where's that party assistant gal Anna when ya really need her?" ;-) OOC: A Happy Birthday goes out to Brute and Thinas, who are 33 and 22 on this day respectively. Hope you guys have a great one.

OOC: this post timelined before the announcement of the Bachelor Auction Results. ;-) IC: "Treassssson I say!" Wyvern rushed back into the Beauty Pageant arena, clutching the upper edge of a trashcan. He tossed the can to the ground, his oil-darkened snout twisted in discontent. "My booby-trapped items were never delivered to their susceptible target participants! It's a scam!" "Booby-trapped items?" Mynx feigned ignorance, raising a brow in Wyvern's direction. Wyvern raised a claw and opened his mouth to respond, only to find himself fresh out of excuses. The lizard grimaced and motioned with a claw, unable to speak. He glanced to Sweetcherrie, then Apaltra, then Stumpy, then Tom Atoe. He hesitated for a moment, then kicked the loaded can angrily. "A rematch. I demand a rematch!" Wyvern began jumping up and down on the can, gritting his teeth. "Twelve rounds! An endurance test! Survival of the fittest! Whoever maintains their appearence the longest!" The judges cringed as Wyvern tripped over his own tail and began rolling around on the remains of the can. Mallory and Tanuchan considered approaching the lizard to comfort him, but hesitated upon viewing his flailing scales and claws "H-how am I gonna be able to compete now?" The lizard wailed. "It's over. Over!" "Excuse me, Mr. Wyvern." Anna brightened upon seeing the lizard and rushed over to him. She struck an enthusiastic smile. "I was wondering if you'd still be willing to-" "Got lossst," grunted Wyvern in a matter-of-fact-manner, raising himself from the debris. "Can't you see I'm trying to bask in my own self-pity here?" Anna stared at Wyvern for a moment in silence, then slowly began to sniffle. She turned from him as tears began welling up in her eyes, and spoke in a broken tone: "I'm s-s-*sniff* sorry." Wyvern stood frozen in place and bit his scaly lip as Anna began to wander towards the Beauty Pageant exit. He fiddled with the stinger on his tail for a moment, then let out a long sigh and ran up to Anna before she had a chance to exit. "L-look, don't cry." Wyvern dug into his pouch for the Fake Tear Tissue, only to realize that it probably wouldn't work well in this situation. "Look, err, lisssten, you said you wanted an apprenticeship right? H-how old're you?" Anna stopped crying, her eyes widening with excitement. "Sixteen. Oh would you take me as a party apprentice, Mr. Wyvern?!" She clutched at his scaly knee. "Please please please?" Wyvern stared at the ceiling for a moment and let out an awkward sigh. "Well, uhhh, I mean... yeah, whatever, why not?"

Madhatter rocks back and forth in his applicant easychair as Tanuchan and Sweetcherrie smother him with thoughtful responses. He turns over his application sheet and whips out a quill to jot their comments down, only to pause as a drop of liquid lands on his eyebrow. The applicant turns his eyes to the ceiling, and his jaw drops at the sight of several clots of batter hanging from it. Sweetcherrie and Tanuchan both turn their heads upwards, and slowly begin to raise their hands to their mouths. "Well, I guess that would account for the strange smell..." Tanuchan's eyes remain frozen on the prosthetic limbs stuck in the batter clots above her. She flinches as one of the legs breaks from its position, and braces for impact as the limb falls, dragging the rest of the limb-clot along with it. When she opens her eyes, she's surprised to find that none of the limbs have hit her, and notices that they've fallen in a circle around her with their thumbs raised to the sky. "Wonder how it got this way." Sweetcherrie frowns and steps to the side as a dribble of batter patters down near her. "Wyv better not use that date as an excuse for a Fall cleaning job." Madhatter hops out of his seat as two more droplets of batter fall onto the arms of his chair. He adjusts his hat nervously, glances once more at the ceiling, then turns his eyes to Sweetcherrie and Tanuchan. "Will the Elder of Initiates be here soon? I'd really like to submit my application before any batter gets on i-" Madhatter jumps as the Office door slams open and Wyvern barges in. The overgrown lizard is dressed in his typical tasteless hawaiin attire, with the exception of a tacky new addition of mismatching socks. He hisses a gleeful greeting in Madhatter's direction, then snatches the poem from the applicant's hands. "Hmmmm." Wyvern scratches his scaly chin as he reads over the poem. "I definitely sssympathize with this little piece, Madhatter. A spinning piece of geld is indeed a sight to behold, and such a tragedy when it's lost. I can't believe the IRA has gotten to the point of using white homing doves for late revenue collections, but there ya have it." "Errrr." Madhatter flinches as a drop of batter falls onto his head. "That wasn't exactly what I-" "Geld is a perfectly good reason for grinning, though." Wyvern sneers at Madhatter, then stamps his application ACCEPTED. "Speaking of which, feel free to pay your application fee dues at that Almost Dragonic Brand Loose Gold Tooth Spitoon™ over there." ;-) OOC: An ACCEPTED application poem, Madhatter. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! It's nice to see that you've finally applied, and I apologize for the delay in responding to your piece. I hope that you find the Pen a friendly and welcoming writing community, and look forward to reading more of your stuff. :-)

Wyvern scurries back to the Kissy-Wissy Snookums Pie booth as fast as his scaly legs can carry him. The mingled soot and Mystery Aggravation Pie™ that once covered the lizard's snout are gone, replaced by a confident grin and a full-scale chef smock and hat. The "elegent" suit is coloured in a manner that would make even the most devoted of Dr. Seuss fanatics proud, gushing rainbow brights like a fairy blowtorch gone haywire. The reptilian Elder strikes a toothy grin as he parks his sheathed cart in front of the designated booth area. He tips his hat and bows to the Quincunx, then raises a claw to his chest and sticks his chin up proudly. "Here with my second installment of Almost Dragonic Brand Kissy-Hissy Snookums Pies.™ W-w-wait, before you turn to wander off, I'll have you know that I've labeled this inssstallment 'Gourmet Edition.' They're actually cooked! Feassst yer eyes on these." Wyvern uncovers the first of the new pies with a flourish, revealing a silver platter seating an odd concoction. The darkened crust of the circular pie seems to oscilate with two large bulges around the edges, and dips into an ugly hole at the center. The area of the crevice glows with a strange luminous light, casting a dim hue on the rest of the pie. A peacock feather juts from center of the hole as an awkward decoration. "I like to call thisss first piece the 'Achilles Double-Kidney Pie.'" Wyvern's forked tongue sticks from his maw. "It doesn't have the numeric parallel of a Triple-Kidney Pie, but the spot of the third kidney has been filled with Swiftness Potion-enhanced E-Z Whip. Consumption of this delicacy will surely result in a quickening of the sssenses, as well as the bowels. It'll also glow in the dark for as long as the E-Z Whip ingredient remains, and can be used as a perfect nightlight for cutting pies." Wyvern grin broadens as his claw moves to the second item on his cart. His claw digs into a large wooden box that rests there, and pulls out a large jagged mass of crust. An upsidedown goose foot waves on the top of the shapeless mess of "pie," and a grapevine trails from its side. "This one'sss called 'The Picnic Massacre/Omnivore's Delight Pie.' It doesn't serve any special purpose, but is pretty much guaranteed to have at least one ingredient that you'll really like in it. The pie features: celery sticks, tender strawberries, honey-nutmeg mix, fresh grapes, everything bagels, chocolate chip cookies, three varieties of oriental seafood, sweet raspberries, large turnips, green nuts, lentil soup, wild goose, raw tuna, hot dates (*nudge nudge*), salty potatoes, duck kebabs, and a pie tin somewhere in there. Indullllge." Wyvern lifts the crust ball with a grunt, then sets it beside the Achilles Double Kidney Pie. The lizard cackles with glee and begins rubbing his scaly claws together. "And now, for my final and most diabolical pie creation to date. Bring it in guys!" Two Elder Dwarves draped in monk robes slowly enter through the Conservatory entrance, each clutching one half of an alter. On top of the alter rests a sealed ebony platter. The dwarves hum in low voices as they set the alter next to Wyvern's cart, and back away as the lizard approaches. "I presssent to you... the Doom Pie!" Wyvern raises the lid from the platter with a trembling claw. A billow of black smoke rises from the inside of the tray for a moment, blinding observant spectators and causing them to cough. Once the smoke has cleared, the "face" of the pie is revealed... The dark crust of the pastry is badly burnt in three locations, causing the circular formation to take the appearence of a skull. Resting within the "eye socket" burns of the pie are two green gems, which gleam mischievously in the light. "Baked within the Alternating Repeating Kendricke and Scorn Launcher (RIP) and adorned with the fabled Gemstones of Tarnished Souls, this pie makes most pastries lose their flavour with looks alone. The pie itself is tasteless (please, consider its ingredients), but it has been prophecisized that once the pie is thrown, it will connect with its target regardless of circumstances. It shall be used once, and only once, and will fufill some mysterious fate. Despite the pie's menacing name and appearence, it is uncertain if this concoction will cause a positive or negative outcome upon its impact. It may be something comic and trivial, or could result in something devastating and brutal. What is known is that it will have some effect. Until the moment that it is thrown, the pie can be spun as a hypnotism device, courteousy of its gemstone "eyes." Furthermore, anyone that takes a bite out of the pie will not be able to voice an argument for a full twenty four hours." Having stated this, Wyvern swings into a deep bow, causing his rainbow chef hat to fall to the floor. ;-)

I may be stating the obvious here, but it's definitely great to hear from you both, Xaious and Vincent. :-) Please keep us updated as to your current situations, and let us know if there's any way we can help you guys out. I'm sorry to hear about your aunt in Biloxi, Xaious, and hope that she regains her footing in the near future. Very good to hear that you're both doing alright!

I found this a very interesting poem, word_eyes. :-) I liked the format of incorporating "equals" signs in each of the lines, as it's a very succint structure that I haven't seen used before. I also liked a number of the original details and pop culture references that you incorporated in the poem, as they stood out and struck me as evocative. In terms of things you may want to consider improving in this piece: the broad spectrum of ideas and wide range of subjects touched upon in the poem made it seem a bit haphazard and general to me. To improve upon this, you may want to consider choosing one of the ideas, be it commercialism, gun violence, or race, and expanding upon it as the center of your poem. Similarly, you might want to narrow down the language of the poem in certain places, as it struck me as a little wordy and conversational at times. The "equals" signs might be an interesting aspect to play off of in cutting down the language, as I'm sure they can offer all sorts of less wordy possibilities. :-) Once again, very interesting and original stuff. :-) Thanks for sharing.

.. bow to the Pollen Queen, Roaiseyulip. Seated atop her dandelion thrown, she casts the subtlest of smiles to her admirers. A huge commotion breaks out in the crowds, and a number of flower zealots begin tearing through their books of scriptures (known in previous times as "flower guides") in search of a sign. It doesn't take long before the Queen becomes irritated by all of the commotion, and she slams a stem sceptor upon the ground. "Silence!" The crowds go quiet and stare, holding their breath. "I cannot see you all, for I am molewoman by birth." Roiseyulip waves a mole-ish digging hand through the air. "But I recognize your presence, and feel your need for my guidance. Rely not upon those human tomes of flowers as resources, for they shall only give you the tiniest fraction of the truth. Sit back, and let me tell you the tale of worlds past. Of the K-Mart oracle, and the four horsemice of apocolypse... of a time before the flower dynasty, when dragons and knights reigned supreme." Roaiseyulip grips her flower sceptor tightly and trembles as the crowds break into an excited commotion once again. As she waits for the noise to subside, nobody notices the long-range can of weedkiller that one suspicious audience member aims...

Tired of hip hop crowding the college radio airwaves? Tired of E. Literate giving big ups to the Mighty Pen incessently? Tired of radio threads getting bumped to the top of the Cabaret Room forums? Well, you're straight out of luck. "Any Given Moment" is back for one last semester, with a new day and time: "Any Given Moment" Fridays, 8:00 PM - 10:00 PM US EST Stream online at http://www.gwradio.com Call-in: (202) 994-9749 AIM: RGWradio Given that this is the "semester that never should have happened," I'll do my best to make sure that "Any Given Moment" goes out with a bang. The show begins again this Friday (9/9/05), and will continue airing every Friday until mid-December. I already have several interesting themes planned out, and the tentative theme of this week's episode is a breakdown of Los Angeles' booming hip hop scene (what can I say? I'm still recovering from good times this Summer ;-)) As usual, be expecting plenty of Pen shout outs and general foolishness from me. Don't be afraid to call in to chat over the air, or IM me with comments or requests. You can also catch me over webcam if you feel so inclined. 9/9/05 - "Any Given Moment" - "L.A Styles Back." Whu-whut... Bay area, represent represent. Irvine stand up! ;-) P.S: WRGW got the new Chicharones album in, and boy is it some spicey hot bacon. You heard it here first... Listen and find out.

Epilogue "You're sure you want to keep that thing, Wyv?" Woody remains motionless, his voice directed at the tattered black sock that rests on Wyvern's desk chair "Well, of courssse. I paid for it, didn't I?" Wyvern grins and brushes a claw along the red sockdrawer that rests at the center of the room. "Besides, now that his arms have been cut off and the holes have been sewn up, I think it'll make a pretty nice sock." "Errr, fair enough." Woody swings open for a moment as Bravery reenters the Office. The Elder Dwarf shakes his head and wipes some sweat from his brow. He catches his breath for a few minutes, then turns his head to Wyvern and gasps: "The remains of the AARKaSL *pant* have been disposed *pant* like you asked Wyv. Shame, *pant* looked like a pretty nice weapon." "Oh, I'm sure somebody'll find something to do with the little bits and pieces that remain of it." Wyvern grins and circles around Satan's Sockdrawer. "I bet the remains of that dented circuit board'll make a nice halfling shoulder pad or something." "Yeah." Bravery sits and leans back against the Office wall. "But it's not the same..." "Well." Wyvern grins and tilts his head towards a sheathed pie tin that rests on his cluttered desktop. "At least the experiment was a successss." "*Ahem!*" Wyvern and Bravery both turn towards Woody. The door begins to concentrate. "Whenever you give the word, Wyvern." "Sssure, just give me one second." Wyvern examines the crimson sockdrawer for a moment, then plucks one of the picture frames from the top of it. The picture details two succubi in a position so tantalizing and suggestive that no mortal words can properly describe it. The lizard casts a quick glance in both directions, then licks his lips and pulls the photo out of the frame. He places the empty picture frame back in its former position, and whistles innocently while hiding the picture behind his back. "Take it away, err, y'know, Woody." Woody begins muttering Mahogoney prayers under his breath, detailing countless centuries of fallen trees as well as a certain special 'Closet.' As Satan's Sockdrawer begins to dematerialize, Wyvern searches for a place to hide the picture. He smirks upon arriving at the tattered sock that rests on his seat, and carefully tucks the picture within it. "Well, at leassst your good for something." ;-) Fin~

Wyvern carefully tilts the moss-covered vat, pouring its contents into the upper-nozel of the AARKaSL. The overgrown lizard squints and bites his lip as a hint of batter dribbles down the side of the cannon. His scaly knees tremble a bit as he readjusts the position of the container. Underneath the large vat, the "glove" on Wyvern's right claw stares towards the ground with a glum demeanor, its former-mouth decorated in a pattern of cross stitches. You'll never get away with this. Wyvern empties the last of the batter and tosses the large vat to the side. He grins and dusts off his claws, only to pause and cringe as he recognizes the voice. "You again?! Didn't we sow your mouth tight enough?" Satan's Sockpuppet stares up from Wyvern's claw, his gemstone eyes indifferent given his motionless mouth. I can still communicate to your mind via Terrorpathy, you foolish lizard. It's only a matter of time now before the Forces of Light arrive to stop your evil plans. Then, I'll have your claw! "Geeze, you never shut up do you?" Wyvern claps his claws hard. "Haven't you caused enough trouble already with that bad breath of yours?" Wyvern turns Satan's Sockpuppet in the direction of Bravery to illustrate his point. The dwarf continues to play on the Almost Dragonic Brand Mini-Organ,™ his face and hands charred black with burn marks. Bravery pauses in his playing to cast Wyvern an uncertain glance, confused as to who the lizard might be talking to. My jets of flame are only a tiny fraction of the wrath you will feel for defacing my beautiful visage. It is only a matter of time now, you bloated gecko. "Sure sure, forces of light yadda yadda." Wyvern rolls his eyes and makes a few final adjustments on the AARKaSL, tweaking knobs and gidgets. "Yeesh, I'm beginning to think that you're a worst investment than those Almost Dragonic Brand Stinky Troll Sockpuppets™ I fabricated years ago. And those things made Athlete'sss Foot look like minor league mold." You dare to compare me to filthy secondhand puppets? Surely, you jest! Your time will come, lizard. Your time will co- "Lisssten." Wyvern growls through his teeth and raises his right hand to his face. The lizard's beady eyes narrow. "If you keep 'Terrorpathying' me, your gonna force me to get really nasty. And trust me, you don't want nasssty." Wyvern examines sockets and switches on the AARKaSL for a moment without interruption, the Mini-Organ squelching harmoniously in the background. He then balls his left claw into a fist as the Terrorpathy cues up again. You don't scare me, lizard. I've seen and experienced dictators far more evil and- "O.K. You've just decided for me." Wyvern stands from his position and sneers at the "glove" with malice. "The pie'll have a few extra decorations." Extra decorations? What are you- no! NO! Wyvern gingerly narrows his claws around the fabric under the puppet's gemstone eyes. He tears at it for a moment, then plucks the gems out one at a time. Aaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee! Y-you bastard, I can't see! M-my hypnotism, what will I- "If you don't quiet up now, I'm stuffing you with cotton and using you as a Melba voodoo doll after this project is over. Capiche?" Wyvern slowly nods upon being answered by silence. He gives the AARKaSL a final inspection, then signals to Bravery with a claw. "Bravery, have we completed the list?" Bravery ceases in his playing and turns over his Mini-Organ sheet music, revealing a checklist scrawled on the back. "Looks like it Wyv. All the ingredients and kitchen utensils used for making a good pie... Not sure how it'll work with that cannon of yours, though." "We'll see." Wyvern grins and cackles, spreading his scaly arms. "Dwarfs, Doors, and Annoying Talkative Gloves... you are about to bear witness to an historic moment in pie baking history. The Automatic Alternating Repeating Kendricke and Scorn Launcher shall function as a mixer, beater, meader, and oven simultaneously, baking the pie of the century. The Automatic Alternating Repeating function of the weapon shall feed shots into the cannon itself, thereby causing a destructive turmoil within the batter and other ingredients. The cannon shall then overheat, acting as an oven and spouting its contents into the pie tin located underneath the lower nozel of the device. Gentlemen, please don your sssafety equipment." Bravery puts on a pair of dwarven goggles, Wyvern tosses on a some googly eye glasses, and Woody covers himself in a white lab cloth. Satan's Sockpuppet does nothing, given his lack of eyes. "Let the baking begin!" Wyvern slams the 'ON' switch of the AARKaSL with his tail. The device begins rumbling and trembling, the batter within going through countless atrocities. Sparks fly as the rumbling grows louder. The weapon grows red with heat and begins bouncing up and down. Wyvern and Bravery duck and cover as a loud roar fills the Office. The room goes dark with a crack and a bang before the noises cease.

I was going to post something similar here, so thank you for starting the topic Appy. I hope that no pennites have been deeply affected by the tragedy, and wanted to give condolences to any pennites who have friends or family out in New Orleans. I realize that this subject has been constantly brought up in the news and media, but still wanted to check if any Pen people have been personally affected. Hopefully, none have and this will be a short thread.

"Look, I'm O.K with playing on this Almost Dragonic Brand Portable Mini-Organ™ for a bit." Bravery shuffles half of a piece of white plaster in his hands. "But do I really have to wear this mask?" "The massssk adds atmosphere." Wyvern grins at the "Phantom of the Opera" set up in his office, tapping a claw on the Mini-Organ sitting next to Bravery. The wet halfling gut wobbles and squelches, causing Bravery to twist his nose and cringe. "It sure is a weird instrument..." "It is the perfect instrument and costume for the situation." The voice of Satan's Sockpuppet echoes from Wyvern's right claw. "I assure you of its perfection, my Lord Wyvern. And as to you, dwarf: the great Wyvern should not be questioned! Look into my eyes." Bravery rolls his eyes and places the mask over half of his face. "No thanks." Wyvern hums and nods as Bravery begins playing on the Mini-Organ, evoking odd squelching sounds and bursts akin to flatulence. The reptilian Elder turns to his vat of fresh batter and pushes it towards the AARKaSL. He pauses as he examines the large weapon. "Yes, your moving this vat from one side of the room to another has been an excellent course of action, my liege. Truly excellent." "Let'sss see here." Wyvern examines the AARKaSL from each side, tapping different parts of it with his claw. "Some adjustments will probably have to be made." "Adjustments, yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea my sire. Adjust it, and it shall work towards your purpo-ow! Please my liege, mind where you tap my head." "Hmmm." Wyvern unlatches a plate from the AARKaSL and stares into the dark hole of circuitry. "The egg beatersss'll go in here, I guess. I'll just put the pie tin under th-" "Yes, install the egg beaters there my liege, that would be a most cunning and innovative idea." The flatulence noises of the Mini-Organ rind loudly in the background. "Yes, the pie tin, yes. Underneath the nozel, a most intriguing idea my liege." Wyvern stomps his foot on the ground as he lifts himself from his kneeling position. He stares at the ceiling and grits his teeth for a moment, then turns to the "glove" on his claw. "Listen, glove... would you stop talking so much? It's distracting me." "Oh yes my liege. Yes, that would be a most excellent command to give me, I assure you." "Fine." Wyvern growls something under his breath, then begins searching through the piles of paper that litter his office. "Now where did I put that-" "Yes, your searching for the pie tin is an excellent way to go about commencing the project, my liege." The flatulence of the Mini-Organ rings out in an off-key squelch. "The continuence of this search is a most courageous and intelligent course of action to take, my liege." Wyvern freezes in place and bars his razor-sharp teeth, then glares at the "glove." He shakes his head in frantic disbelief and slams his right claw onto his desktop. "That does it!" Wyvern points with his other claw. "You're not speaking another word! Bravery, come here!" The Mini-Organ melodies cease as Bravery drops his mask and lifts himself from his seat. "Get me a needle and some thread." Wyvern shakes his head in the direction of the Office Door. "We're sowing this glove's mouth shut." "Ah yes my liege, that would be a most strong and- you're what?" "Sure thing Wyv. I'll be right back." "You cannot sow my mouth shut. I am the Cursed Sockpuppet of Unholy Corruption, Eternal Damnation and Doom! My alluring words and advice make those of vaudevillian sockpuppets seem petty and obscure." Bravery reenters the Office holding a needle and some thread. "I-I shall teleport myself back to Satan's Sockdrawer, as I always do when encounting danger. Bwahahahaha, foolish mortals. I shall see you in Hell!" The "glove" suddenly vanishes from Wyvern's right claw, causing both Bravery and Wyvern to gape. After a moment of silence, Wyvern begins tearing at the scales on his head. "I don't believe thisss, what a rip-off! To think that I gave a Swiftness Potion for that piece of junk! I'm gonna demand a refund for thi-" "I don't think that'll be necessary, Wyv." The grainy voice of Woody the Door booms through the Office in an amused tone. "Let me handle it." Wyvern and Bravery listen in silence as Woody begins muttering a number of arcane words under his breath, mentioning the phrase "Mahogoney Closet" several times in his prayer. They both jump in shock as a large wooden sockdrawer materializes in the middle of the office out of thin air. The drawer is colored in a deep crimson red, and has the framed pictures of numerous succubi sitting on top of it. "Ah, I've escaped once again." The muffled voice of Satan's Sockpuppet comes from the top drawer. "That foolish red gecko is probably stunned at the moment, along with that pathetic little dwarf of his. Hahaha, just imagining the looks on their faces is a pleasure in and of itself..." Wyvern smiles, then silently takes the needle and thread from Bravery's hands and approaches the sockdrawer.

So, I just went through Kawada's "Between The Waking and the Shade EP" for the third time this evening, and must say that I find it an enjoyable listen overall. :-) I'm not the biggest expert on accoustical rock music, but will try to provide some feedback for it in this thread. I found the opening track, "Gone Away," very catchy and melodic, and it may rank as my personal favorite track on the album. The guitar riff (provided by the Pen's very own drummondo, no less!) had a lonely western feel to it that complimented lauramacrhcp's vocals very nicely. I was definitely digging the tone and atmosphere of this track. "Beautiful Nightmares" is probably the track I cared for the least on the album, as I didn't think the vocals melded well with the music, and didn't like the strained singing on the chorus. "Maybe Strange" was much better... I really liked the bassline that opened this track, and found the melody and chorus quite interesting and original. I didn't care much for "Caring Touch," as I didn't like the lyrics or vocals much and found the music fairly average. "Friends" closed the EP triumphantly, though, and stole the crown for second best track on the EP. I like how the track starts sad, and then becomes more uplifting with the chorus. I also loved the way the guitar and bass complimented each other on this track, as is particularly apparent after each of the choruses. Very nicely done, overall. :-) Three out of five ain't bad... I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of this EP, as I had previously only known your recordings by the B-sides listed in your dmusic profile. ;-) I'll be on the lookout for official releases from Kawada in the future.

The two ghouls standing beside Wyvern's Office desk rasp as they set down the large moss-covered vat they carry. The hideous creatures both sport trendy (albeit torn and dirty) T-shirts, funeral caps, and gloves made out of their own deteriorating flesh. The taller ghoul on the left has "Party till the Undeath!" scrawled on his Tee, while the one on the right simply sports a picture of Marilyn Manson. "Sssorry to keep you all waiting." Wyvern strides into the Office and grins. He stuffs what appears to be a black glove into his pocket, then approaches the ghouls and sneers at each of them in turn. He nudges the tall one with a scaly shoulder, but pauses and cringes as he cracks one of the ghoul's ribs by accident. "Errr, sorry about that." Wyvern jitters. "You must be some frat ghouls who saw my add for imported air. Am I right?" The shorter ghoul grins, dislocating his jaw. "Paarrty at Jooooe's Cuuurrrsed Graaaaveyard... Flesh fall off Jamie, skelllleton now. Weee ceeellllebrate." "Aiirr kegs gooood." The tall ghoul slowly nods, evoking several cracking sounds. "Unnndeead get hiiigh. Take the air plain, huh huh huh." "Exxxcellent, I've been waiting for a pair like you to arrive." Wyvern rubs his scaly claws together and cackles. "You brought the product?" "Seeeee fooorrr seeellllllf." The short ghoul kicks the moss-covered vat as the tall ghoul begins opening its lid. Wyvern's eyes widen upon viewing the contents of the vat, and he marvels at the batter within. The lizard gently strokes a claw through the substance, testing its worth. "Ohhhh, this stuff is fresh." Wyvern lifts his claw from the batter, pulling out a bat wing. "I'll take it! Help yourself to all the imported air you want. It's at the bar in the back." The ghouls let out a collective moan of joy, then both turn towards the air bar area. They tear open their stomaches and begin stuffing themselves with cans of imported air. Wyvern waits until the ghouls have stored their shares of air, then watches as they exit from the Office. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his black "glove," slipping it onto his claw and cackling to himself. He pauses and frowns, however, when the "glove" comes to life and turns its head towards him. "I, the Cursed Sockpuppet of Unholy Corruption, Eternal Damnation and Doom, known to mortals as Satan's Sockpuppet, am finally awakened! Thank you my liege, I assure you that the decision you have chosen to take in awakening me is a most wise and cunning one." Wyvern stands in silence for a very long moment, staring at the "glove." He raises a brow. "You... talk?" "Indeed. A most astute and intelligent observation, my liege." The puppet seems to bow its head slightly. "I shall act as your most humble and trusted associate from this point forward. With my power, wisdom, and knowledge, you shall always be assured that you are doing the right thing." "Ummm." Wyvern continues staring at the "glove." He frowns. "O.K." "I must say." Satan's Sockpuppet waves back and forth on Wyvern's claw as the lizard wanders towards the Office door. "This seat is not quite as comfortable as those I've experienced in previous years. I suppose I should have expected as much, given your superior scales and demeanor. Yes yes, far superior." Wyvern raises his "glove" to turn the knob of the Office door, only to find that the knob is stuck. "What'sss the problem, Woody?" Wyvern's frown deepens as he stares at the door. "I need to get out." "I'll tell you what the problem is." Woody's grainy voice comes out in a growl, and he nudges open a little. "I don't like the way your new 'associate' is staring at my frame." "Silence, you inferior piece of wood!" Satan's Sockpuppet raises a puppet fist and shakes it. "If Wyvern wants to exit these quarters, you shall let him through immediately, is this understood? Look into my eyes, you oversized bed frame. You never even saw me here." "Piece of wood?!" Woody slams open with a bang. "Well I got news for you, puppet: us doors don't have eyes. You're gonna get yours!" Wyvern stares at his "glove," then at Woody. The lizard sighs and shakes his head, then wanders off into the hall in search of Bravery.