Snypiuer

It's the driving force that gives you the ability to climb the 12 foot back wall, sneak into her house and go through all her stuff - despite the restraining order and the fact she has never even met you? No. Wait. That's stalking. How about: That feeling you get as you shovel that last bit of dirt on the shallow grave, that makes you think, "Man, I'm going to miss her cooking."? O.K., so I have no clue, blame my lack of sensitivity. Some may say that my insensitivity is why I'm not married. I still claim it's because I can't afford to own a wife.

If only I had the strength. To tell you how you make me feel inside. With but a word, I'd move mountains. And turn back the highest tide. If only I had the courage. To take you in my arms. I could tread the darkest depths of Hell. With out the slightest fear of harm. If only I had the power. To show you, How much I really care. I'd show you Paradise. And how Angels fill the air. If only I weren't so weak. These things and more, I'd do. In hope that may be. Just may be. You'd understand. How much I love you.

Once in a while. I can see him. Out of the corner of my eye. At the very edge of my vision. I can usually catch a quick glimpse, If I look over my shoulder, Just so. Or if I turn around, Real fast. That little boy. The child I once was. A kinetic ball, Of arms and legs, Tousled hair, scraped knees And untied tennis shoes. An unbound bundle of energy. Running and jumping, With reckless abandon. Fearless. Secure in the knowledge, That he is, in deed, immortal. At times. I can hear him. In the background. Just below the every day noise. At a pitch, Slightly off, From the hum of average day to day life. A giggle. A laugh. A squeal of delight, When a new discovery is made. I wish. That, for a moment. Just a little while. That I could hold him close. Take him in my arms, And hug him tight. Whisper in his ear. "Never grow up. Stay young forever. Revel in your youth, And the triumph of each new experience." But I can not. Worse yet. As day after day, Goes by. I see him less. It's harder. And harder, To hear him. No matter how hard I try. I fear the day will come. When I will see him no more. His voice, Forever lost to me. And I wonder. If that sad day comes. What will become of him? The child, Of my yesteryears. Will he go on, Forever playing, Exploring, Oblivious to my departure? Or will he look around, Bewildered and confused, As to why he is now alone, His partner in hide and seek, Now gone? Will he cower in fear, Or cry aloud in my abandonment of him? I can never know. I can only hope. That that day never comes. And pray. With all my heart. All my soul. And every fibre of my being. That if that day ever does arrive. That I feel a tugging at my shirt tail. And I look down, To find him. Wide eyed and smiling. Grasping my hand with both of his, Pulling me along after him. And saying, With just the right amount of childish impatience. "Come on! Let's play!"

I remember when you left. How you turned and walked away. I never will forget. Because that's when I learned, That I never knew, I could miss some thing As much, as what you took from me that day. Since you've gone, I go through life, As if in a haze. I'm lost. I'm confused. It's as if, I can no longer, Tell my nights from my days. I find myself, Alone. In The dark, Staring, blankly, at the wall. Or, atop my bed, Curled up in a ball. Waiting. Hoping, to hear your footsteps, In the hall. I need you to return. And bring that which I miss so much, Back to me. With out it, I'm hollow inside. My life, Empty. I go over and over, In my head. The words that I might say. That would make you come back. And return what you took from me that day. Every time I think I'm over it. That I can finally go on. I feel my lose anew. My life, once again, falls apart. All progress stops. So, I write this one last plea. In hope that you will return. Give back, that which you took from me. And know, That no matter what you choose to do. You have 'till tomorrow, To return my T.V. Or I'm calling the cops.

We have all done stupid things. Some of us have done REALLY stupid things, a LOT more often then others. This is dedicated to the most stupid of those things. The ones that actually count as reasons one should not procreate. I urge others to put there own stories here. Since I brought it up, I'll put in the first one. Snypiuer has many stories of stupid things he has done. We could go in order of magnitude, but we choose to go in order of occurance. I will add a new story as often as possible. Though I have been told that I have done many a stupid thing before the time I can remember, I will give you the first that I can. Our story begins at the end. There stood Snypiuer, dripping wet, naked, atop a toilet tank, in the dark. To get to this point, we go back only a mere 10 minutes or so. Snypiuer's older brother had told him that when he (Snypiuer) took his bath that night, he (Snypiuer's older brother) would take his (Snypiuer's) two quarters. The fact that 2 quarters was worth enough to cause what happens next, should give an idea as to how old Snypiuer is. Snypiuer, being much smarter then his older brother, takes his quarters into the bath with him, but fears them going down the drain and also fears that his older brother will, some how, enter the bathroom - undetected - and steal said quarters, while the shower curtain is closed, so as the water does not spill out onto the floor. These concerns haunting him, Snypiuer attempts to hide his preciouse quarters. This brings us to moments before where we began this story. After dismissing many hiding places, including the tube of the toilet paper roll and under the toilet tank cover, Snypiuer spies the perfect hiding place. Snypiuer stands, butt naked, dripping wet, with two quarters clutched tightly in his little hand and all of 5 years old. Staring at a place where his 2 quarters would fit perfectly. Climbing on top of the toilet and then atop the tank, Snypiuer stretches his wet little hand and places his treasure in the empty socket of a 2 bulb light fixture. Noticing that the quarters can still be seen, he then proceeds to push them further in. How Snypiuer escaped death is still unknown to this day. And, beyond the humiliation of having his mother enter the bathroom to find him naked and dripping wet atop the toilet tank, his quarters were lost to the the electrical fixture melting around it. Well, that is the first stupid thing Snypiuer remembers doing. I will continue when I can. You're going to enjoy the incident that brought about the week long beating. If anyone wishes to add their own story, feel free! 'Till then.

This is the voice that God gave me. "That's funny." You might think. For an athiest to say. But, in my futile attempt. To find some thing. Greater then me. It's all I can find. That might make me believe. For in my head. My voice is strong. Powerful. A voice that leads. My words precise. Melodious. With a crystal ring. But when I speak. I stu...stu...stutter. And...........................hesitate. At the most inopportune times. When written My words mispelled. I'm lucky if they some times rhyme. So I must apologize. For what you hear. And read. For you will never hear my true voice. Or be awed by its majesty. I am saddened. For you. For all I can offer. Is the voice that God gave me.

This has been going around in my head for a while now. It's to the point that I can no longer tell if it is mine, or if I read it some where - or perhaps some thing similar. In the end, I just don't know. If it is another's work that I falsely believe is my own - I apologize. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Old Bridge I'm going down to the old bridge today. Where we used to sit and dangle our legs. As we tossed stones. Into the water far below. I'm going down to the old bridge today. Where we used to sit and share our dreams. All the things we would do. All the places we would go. But it seems so lonely. Without you by my side. And if just one dream came true. I wish it to be, we'd never say goodbye. I went down to the old bridge today. To find it broken down and rusted. From the time that's past it's way. The water gone. The river, long gone dry. And after all these years. That old bridge doesn't seem so high. I went down to the old bridge today. To leave my dreams. Among stones. Tossed long ago. And to say goodbye.

One of my favorites: A ham and cheese sandwich walks into a bar and says, "Bartender, give me a shot of tequila and a beer." The bartender looks at the ham and cheese sandwich and says, "I'm sorry, but we don't serve food here." Hello, anyone still there?

An individual walks over and introduces himself, " I am Snypiuer and would like to welcome you here." He is about 6 feet tall and dressed in (what seems to be the dominate color here) black leathers, a cape and a floppy wide brim hat. He wears an eye patch over his left eye that has a design that reminds one of cross hairs on a scope. He kind of unnerves you because he seems to be looking at you with his left eye and his cloak which appears to be darker then any thing you have ever seen and actually absorbes light from around him, seems to be moving of it's own free will. "I happened to over hear that you often forget your thoughts. I find that, usually, forgetting ones thoughts comes from being easily distracted. A sure fire cure for that is...hey, what's that over there?" Snypiuer then wanders away. Hope to see some of your writing. This place is full of great writers and nice helpful people. They even let talentless hacks such as myself post, WITHOUT telling them their talentless! They help and give advise! GOTTA love that. Have fun and join in! Oh yeah...welcome!

I can feel it. Coursing through my veins. Pounding. Pounding. Throbbing in my temples. It burns. Like an electrical fire. Consuming every fibre of my being. A humming rings in my ears. As it sings through my body. If only they knew. Perhaps they do. But if they did, they would know they can't hold me. I can feel the wards woven into the fabric that binds my arms about me. I can smell the glyphs imbedded in the padding of the room. I can see the invisible sigils etched into the glass they watch me through. And I know. I KNOW. With but a thought, I can pass them all. Because of this, I allow them their indiscretions. I allow them to believe their spells of lighting affect me. And their poisons incapacitate me. I allow it. For I am a God. And they know not what they do. They fear me. And their fear is eased. When I allow them their indiscretions. They are mortal. They can not feel the power. I can. The power is within me. The power is me. So I allow them to keep me here. With my arms wrapped about me. Bound to this pallet. Within this room of pads. As they watch me through their glass. They feel safe. They feel secure. Becuase they can not feel the power. I allow them. For I CAN feel the power. I allow them. Becuase I am a God. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm just sitting here watching Buffy, when a question comes to my mind. It is deep and concerns Man's place in the Universe. That's when the cat walks in and throws me a finger. Now, a cat throwing me a finger, should give me cause for concern. This I freely admit. And the fact that the cat is blind, that should have thrown me for a loop. She can't see me, so how did she know where to point her paw? Yet, at that point in time, I was slightly more concerned that the string cheese I've been eating was bad. No, what gave me pause, was the fact that I don't own a cat. How did the cat get in? I didn't give it a key. Didn't invite it over. "Hey cat, wanna come in and throw me a finger?" Nope, that never happened. That's when I remembered - That's my room mates cat! I'm supposed to be feeding it! My room mate left 3 DAYS ago! No wonder the cat is P.O.ed! That solved, I went back to my question. Only thing is, I forgot it. So I came up with this one: Buffy or Willow? It's a play on the old Ginger or Mary Ann question. Now every red blooded American boy (and some girls), know the answer is Mary Ann. She totally blew Ginger out of the water when it came to adolecent longing. So I must ask: Buffy or Willow? Now many will say, "What about Cordellia or Anya? Or any of the other extremely good looking women to appear on 'Buffy'?" Some may even say, "Why not ask: Angel or Spike?" This would mostly be asked by militant feminists and others whose personal choices are their own and I am not one to judge. This all taken in stride, I still believe the question is: Buffy or Willow? I believe the answer should also be supported. So I will answer and defend first. Once every body willing to participate answer's I may come up with another one. And once again, this was inspired by Salinye and her 'Life Questions' and, of course, one very hungry, blind and P.O.ed cat. ALSO, it is the character, not the actress, that the question is about. My answer: Willow. Now Buffy is nice, good looking and has that whole tough girl that can kill you pretty darn quick - if need be, thing going for her. But, Willow has something about her. Something dark and seductive. It shows up more in the later episodes, but is first shown (in my opinion) in the episode where Cordelia wishes that Buffy had never moved to town. This causes the Master to take over and both Willow and Zander are vampires. I call her Evil Willow. I can't explain it, but Evil Willow is hot. The way she says, "Bored now." is just so evil in its simplicity. Her total acceptance of the darkness within her is intoxicating. Maybe the fact that I prefer Allyson Hannigan over Sarah Michelle Gellar prejudices my answer, but I still say that Willow is the one to chose - based on the fact that there is something dark and seductive beneath the innocence.

Man, I am out of touch. I new Warren was terminal, I just didn't know he had passed. The Werewolf of London definately deserves an Honorary. But, I still want Johnny to be the first. If it goes through at all. Thanks for the replies.

It was a frigid, bitter wind that scoured the desolate, barren plain on that empty, lonely winter night......approximately 6 months before and about 1200 or so miles north of the quaint little trailer home that a bright, crisp summer day shined down upon. It was on this day that Cledtus P. Pimpernel (no relation to one Scarlet, The) and his cousin Robert Bob Boosch (Bob IS his middle name) became the super heroes known as Red Rabbit and Partial Bob. **Little known fact: The P. in Cledtus P. Pimpernel does not stand for anything. It is a consequence of his mother's rather bizzare speech impediment, in which she had to pronounce the letter P before any word beginning with the letter P. -- My appoligies and condolences to any reader who may or may not share this impediment. Let it also be known that I am a yearly contributer to the "Society of P People with the P Propensity to P Pronounce the letter P P before Speaking words beginning with the letter P P, United for the P Prevention of P Pronouncing the letter P P before Speaking words beginning with the letter P P, Until Totally Rehabilitated." Also known as: SPPPPPPPPSPPUPPPPPPSPPUTR.** The trailer was the office (and only resident) of the "Shangri-La, Down Home, Tiki-Tiki Trailer and RV Park," which was left to Cledtus when he lost his mother. She's not dead, he just can't find her (In actuallity, she ran off with her teenage lover - who also happens to be her sisters son. Which is, in and of itself, disturbing. Just not as disturbing as the fact that he's also her brother's son. Some things are just better left un-talked about.) Within it, Cledtus was yelling at his T.V. He was attempting to watch that days Jerry Springer show. He was pretty sure his mother was on it (perhaps in an attempt to contact him, he believed), but the reception was completly shot. His cousin Bob was outside, using a chain saw to saw off a branch he believed was causing the reception problem. Now Bob with a power tool is NEVER a good idea, the fact that he was using (in this order from ground up) an old wooden milk crate, a rusted out 55 gallon barrel (still partially full of some unknown liquid that glows real pretty and taste funny) and a folding lawn chair as a means to reach said branch, FIRMLY places the situation within the realm of bad. Now, several things happened at once. First, Cledtus had become so enraged, that he had given up his yelling and banging on the T.V., in order to find some thing to throw at it. While outside, an old rotten milk crate disintegrates beneath a weight that any individual with a minimum I.Q. equal to that of a craeture with the brains reserved for the lowliest and simplest of all the creators creations - SHOULD KNOW BETTER THEN TO PLACE ON IT!!! Second, as Bob engages in his fatefull journey towards mother earth (chain saw, running full throttle, gripped tightly in hand), Cledtus has found an object to hurl at his impudent T.V. set. Third, Bob's left leg entangles in the lawn chair, straightens out before him (presenting a perfect target for previously mentioned chain saw) and Bob commences to saw through it a few inches above the ankle. Cledtus turns and begins his throw. Fourth, doing his best impersonation of Nolan Ryan (worthy of the brother from 'There's Something About Mary'), Cledtus hurls his found object full force at the T.V. While outside, Bob has not only figured out a way to also take his right leg off half way between the knee and hip, he manages to lop off his left arm at the elbow (he was reaching for his amputated right leg when the chain saw bounced up and through the arm). Finally, Cledtus lets out a scream as he realizes that he has just hurled his LAST beer at his ONLY T.V. set and he attempts to some how stop the whole horrible chain of events with some hastily prayed for mental abilities. Bob release the chain saw and reaches for his severed left arm with his last remaining attached limb. The chain saw trigger seems to be jammed and it is bouncing around near the severed arm - Bob is oblivious to this and continues to place his LAST remaining attached limb in harms way. It is at this moment that every thing........stops. Half way to the T.V., Cledtus' last beer stands suspended in mid-air and Bob's right arm has some how taken it upon itself to remove it self from harm's way. Strangely, Cledtus is unaffected. Dazedly, he walks over to the beer can and grabs it. Opening it and taking a swig, he notices his cousin Bob and the shape he's in. Running outside, Cledtus comes to the realization that every thing is still, as if it were frozen in time, except for him. Him and Bob's right arm - which is busily doing first aid on his three severed limbs. As Cledtus approaches Bob, Bob's right arm shoots up in the air and the hand turns towards him (imagine making a shadow puppet of a duck and that is how the hand was held), as if looking at him. The arm then picks up a stick and writes a listed of things it needs to patch up Bob in the dirt. Waving at Cledtus and pointing at the list, Bob's arm is able to get Cledtus to get the items. It then writes down instructions on how to fix Bob that Cledtus is able to follow. Only after Bob is patched up and taken inside, does time begin to flow again. Cledtus spends many hours staring at Bob's unconscious body, as Bob's arm and hand seems to look around and study everything around it. Cledtus also comes to the conclusion that he was responsible for the previous events and the transformation of Bob's arm. The arm seemed to have an intelligence beyond anything Cledtus could imagine, while his own ability to seemingly stop time, left him dazed. Was this all he could do? Could he even do it again? How did he do it to begin with? The possibilities were staggering. Even with all this, he was still able to understand that something special and powerful had happened. He remembered what he had learned from his vast reading of comic books as a child, he had a responsibility. A great reponsibility. For, if he did have this, and perhaps other powers, it was a great power in deed. Cledtus needed a costume. Unfortunately, all he could find was an old pair of red long johns with a rear flap. Now Cledtus wasn't very bright, but he was known to be able to use common items in novel ways. Cutting the long johns at the waist, he fashioned a mask from the bottom half. Putting two holes in the rear flap for eye holes, he placed it over his head. The legs hanging down reminded him of the long ears of the rabbits that infested the RV park. Thus was born Red Rabbit. Bob's arm seemed to understand what Cledtus had in mind when he went to check on Bob while wearing his new disguise. After Cledtus provided Bob's arm with a pen and some paper, they spent the next 2 weeks replacing Bob's lost limbs with various items they could find. When Bob finally came to, he had no control over his right arm. In fact, the arm was actually able to take over control of his body (except for his head) at times. And while many a fight between Bob and his arm insued, Partial Bob came into being. This is the origin of Red Rabbit and Partial Bob, whos' adventures we will some day follow. **Red Rabbit and Partial Bob do in deed have more powers and abilities. But, this is the true reason for them.** Beneath the small trailer that Cledtus and Bob call home, a vast net work of tunnels extend through out the RV park. It is a rabbit warren inhabited by super intelligent rabbits (previously mentioned as infesting the park). These rabbits have a society and technological abilities that man kind will not even be able to concieve of for another thousand generations. They gained all this through alien experimentation. The RV park happened to be the point of first contact between Man and the Intergalactic League of Super Intelligent Beings (ILSIB). Had Cledtus or Bob been home, instead of out shooting rats at the local dump and then going to visit Bob's mom, two sisters and niece at the Desert Palms Nude Review (There were only four 'entertainers' at the Desert Palms. Yes, they would be the mom, two sisters and niece - which makes what comes next all that more disturbing) - where they spent $480 on $5 lap dances and two trips to the VIP room, they would have been the recipients of the gifts given by ILSIB. Instead, when Mindaar the Lesser arrived, it was a trailer full of rabbits that greeted him. Having a habit of never attending any meetings and being a general goof off (hence the honorific 'Lesser'), he was under the impression that the rabbits were in fact Man. Wanting to get off planet and back to his warp drive life style, Mindaar popped a few rabbits in his portable evolutionary accelerator, gave them a computer system with a data base filled with the gathered knowledge of the ILSIB and bid them goodbye. By the time the ILSIB realized the mistake, the rabbits had already advanced even beyond them. It was the ILSIB's attempt to rectify the problem that led to the creation of Red Rabbit and Partial Bob. The ILSIB (in fear of the rapid advancement of the rabbits) decided to fix the situation by eliminating....well, the planet. No planet, no rabbits, no problem. Figuring this out before the ILSIB even realized their mistake, the rabbits devised a weapon of their own. When the ILSIB fired their Planet Eliminator 5000 (PE5g) at the rabbits, the rabbits own energy weapon displaced the vibrationary function of the PE5g. Nullifying its effect on the planet and reversing and intensifying its distructive power. It was the interaction of these two weapons that caused everything (the remnants of the ILSIB have already started to reconstruct and have sent a formal request to stop hostilities in the form of an unconditional surrender, which the rabbits have accepted. The rabbits have already sent aid and experts to help in the reconstruction). Having been in the center of the interaction of the energy weapons, set off changes in both Cledtus and Bob. Cledtus was unaffected by the stopping of time due to a quirk in his genetic make-up (which is not fully known, quite possibly suspect and, to tell the truth, may be too disturbing to contemplate). It was an unexpected reaction, that the rabbits have taken full advantage of. Becuase of this quirk, the rabbits are able to imbue Red Rabbit with what ever ability they can think of, for a brief period of time. These abilities are short lived. The greater the ability, the shorter span of time he has them. The first night Cledtus went to sleep, the rabbits implanted biological trackers and other bio-electrical devices in him and Bob (who's attached spare parts they have enhanced so that they can minipulate and imbue with powers, much like Cledtus himself), to oversee their activities and help them when neccesary (imbueing what abilities they need to acomplish what ever they may be trying to accomplish). The explanation of Bob's arm is this: Bob was supposed to be a conjoined (Siamese) twin. All that developed, though, was his twins brain and spinal cord. They happen to be in his right arm. The brain spread out, encased in the bones of the hand and fore arms, all the way down to the elbow (this seperation and compartmentalization of the brain has made it an entity that is basically a community, acting as an individual. Allowing each part to act seperately and as one - at the same time. The actual limits to this set up is unknown and of great interest to the rabbits), with the spinal cord extending through the bone of the upper arm, from elbow to shoulder, behind the shoulder blade and to the base of the skull, connecting to Bob's own spinal column. This is how the arm can take over the body at times (a low level psychic bond allows Bob to communicate with the arm). It was the interaction of the energy weapons that gave the brain its jump start and it became sentient. Bob's attempt to grab his left arm by putting his right arm in harms way, sparked its survival instinct - saving it from the same fate as the other three limbs (the fact that Bob's IQ rivals that of mineral deficient dirt is the reason for the frequent and, some times, vicious fights between them). Of course Cledtus and Bob have no idea why they have the powers they do (and the rabbits will do ANY THING to keep it that way), they just know they do. Mean while, they enjoy the tranquility of their surroundings and the company of the cute little bunnies that infest the RV park. All the while trying to decide the course of their future. The questions that must be asked are: Will they be forces of good or evil? What are the rabbits true intentions? Will the ILSIB secretly seek to retaliate? Did Cledtus even THINK of washing those long john's first? Will Bob be celibate for the rest of his life now? What's that smell? and What's it all about Alfie? Well, until I can think of a first adventure, so long on behalf of the Red Rabbit and Partial Bob ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know I don't visit much and contribute even less. Never the less, I have a request. Would it be possible to have an individual declared an Honorary Bard? Perhaps a thread where some one can be nominated and if enough of us agree, given the Honorary title? I ask, because I would very much like to have Johnny Cash given this title. The Man in Black is the only person to be in: The Country Music Hall of Fame, The Song Writers Hall of Fame and The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. How can we be any less then to memorialize him as an Honorary Bard? Just asking, thanks for listening. Meanwhile, I'll be feeling like I'm.......stuck in Folsam Prison, and time keeps dragging on. ********************************************************************

This goes along with 'The Forgotten Battle', I think there is one more that should be written to go with these. If any one wants to read 'The Forgotten Battle', I've been thinking of looking for some of my old stuff from the Archmage boards and putting them in the Library. Just don't know when I'll get to it. Hope you guys like it. OUR LOVE ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Heat from the dawning sun Stirs the morning fog Sending it swirling across the valley Like the souls of long dead warriors. As the last of the mist burns away To reveal a clear, crisp day Sun light spills down upon two vast armies Reflecting off of belt and buckle, shield and sword - like shards of shattering crystals. With banners unfurled, they face each other Yet there is no movement and not a sound is made As if each individual were alone upon the valley floor. Alone with her. His entire being intent upon her. For she is here, and SHE IS BEAUTY. With translucent veils that float about her Like gossamer webs, adrift upon gentle breezes Known, only, unto them She dances before us. This is her gift And while the reasons given May be honor, pride, greed or glory It is for her that we are truly here. As she dances before us It is as if she glides across the ground With her feet never touching the ground Yet each footstep reverberates across the valley Building with intensity 'Till it is like a wave that crashes down upon us Engulfing us in its rhythm. Its cadence pounding in our veins. Its beat throbbing in our temples. Our souls burn with it. The very core of our being is consumned by it. Yet, not a sound is heard Not a movement is made Breath, niether inhaled nor released. A yearning. A wanting. A need. Builds with in each of us. The feeling grows 'Till our muscles strain with tension Our bodies vibrate with its intensity. And at the very moment that it can no longer be endured A mighty roar is heard from each and every throat For it is at that very moment that she finishes her dance And opens her arms wide to embrace us. And joyously we run to her. Our love. **********************************************************

Yui-Chan! A million thanks! Glad some of you enjoyed and liked my intro. Every one realizes this is a true story, right? Actually happened to me. In REAL life. And, my mother really DID do that. She also made me check for little green men that lived in our attic (a 6year old kid will believe ANYTHING). She also made me check all the rooms, closets and under the beds while everyone else stayed in the car when ever we returned home late. This was, of course, just so that she could sneak in the back door and jump out at me. YEP!! Snypiuer loves his mother. Well, as I said in the beginning, I would love to hear any one elses "true" ghost stories, or any other "unusual" occurances that they have PERSONALLY had. I love my mother, I love my mother, I love my mother......

Thanks, Peredhil! Actually attempting to move it now. Since, basically, I'm an idiot - I have been unable to!!! I know it's probably right in my face and disgustingly simple. Will work on it, unless some one else is able to! Nice to see you guys again, been spending most of the time reading - getting inspiration from some of the best writers I've ever had the pleasure to read (why I even pretend to be able to have my stuff in here, I'll never know!)

Unsure if this is right place to post. Or if any one has brought it up (didn't find it any where else!). If it needs to be moved, G'hed! Anyways, this isn't a made up story and if any one has one of their own (1st hand please. No, "My cousin's uncle's neighbor's dog's former owner....." stories). First off, you need to know that I don't get scared. I can be surprised, startled and such, but i don't get scared. Case in point: An individual on drugs comes through my window. I awake, turn on the light, pull a knife and calmly tell him that he came in the window, he can go out the window. Even gave him a cigaret to calm HIM enough to leave. I went back to sleep. I believe that this odd trait comes from having a mother that believed that scarring her little children was hilarious (I love my mother, I love my mother). Yep, nothing funnier then tapping on your kids window at 2am just to scare them! (I love my mother, I love my mother). This lady took me at 6years old to see the Exorcist (I love my mother, I love my mother). As you might imagine, I was unable to sleep that night. So, my mother sat with me in the living room with the tv on. As we sat watching the test pattern (Because that was all that was on - and if THAT doesn't tell you how old I am! Oh well.) I turned to my mother - Whom I love with ALL my heart - and ask' " Mommy, can that really happen?" Now, at this point, any REASONABLY sane mother (Why a reasonably sane mother would take their 6year old child to see the Exorcist? I'm still working on that!) would hug her child and say, "No. It's just a movie!" NOT MY MOTHER! (I love my mother, I love my mother). My mother puts on the evilest grin she can and slowly turns to HER 6year old child and says, in the deepest, evilest voice she can, "YESSSSS!!!!!!" At this point, all I can think is, "Well that sure does explain a LOT!" (I love my mother, I love my mother). There's more, but I digress. I only wish to point out that I do not get scared (which is vital to my story) and that I love my mother. Here goes. I was living in El Paso, Tx. about 8 or 9 years ago. It was a Friday night, around 3 or 4 am. I had just worked a double shift at the factory I worked at and was tired. I decided not to take the freeway home and make my way down city streets. I was on a part of Alameda street that, at this time of night - especially on a Friday night - should have been packed with people. There are several 24hour cafes and it is right by the border to Juarez, Mexico. People would go to Juarez and party and on the way home, would stop and get menudo or something else for breakfast before going home. There were always people on the street at this time on a Friday night. Except this particular Friday night. As soon as I turned the corner onto this stretch of Alameda, I knew something was wrong. It was surreal, like an episode of the Twilight Zone. The streets were completely empty. As I slowly drove down the street, I looked in the cafes. They were empty. Just the waitresses and cooks sitting at the counters, looking at eachother. At this part of Alameda, it is a 4 lane street. 2 lanes headed one way, a concrete median and 2 lanes headed the other direction. I drive in the lane next to the median, with a lane between me and the sidewalk. I wonder why no one is out when I notice a young lady walking in the same direction I am driving. She is wearing a short white, lacy dress with heels. As I approach her, she is to my right, I am still in the lane next to the median with a lane between me and the sidewalk that she is walking on (In the same direction, so I'm looking at her back). As I get closer to her, I get the urge to look at her. She's alone and walking down a street that should be packed -I'm curious. As I come perfectly perpendicular to her, I'm looking and her head just SNAP'S to the left and locks eyes with me, as if she KNEW where my eye's were BEFORE she looked. Her head is looking straight at me (Like her head is on sideways, looking over her left shoulder) as she continues to walk. I IMMEDIATELY look straight ahead. Because I'm terrified! Her eyes bulged out of her head, with her eyelids pulled taught around them. Her nose was flattened against her face and her teeth and gums jutted out past her lips that were stretched over them. All her teeth were long, crooked and pointed. As I looked foreward, I felt it. I KNEW that if I were to turn around or look in my rearview mirror, I would see her. She was in my back seat. I reached up without looking and turned my mirror, so I COULDN'T see behind me. I was so scarred, I wanted to cry. I felt on the back of my next, something so close, that if it were to move, not even 1/2 a hair's width closer, it would touch me. I could FEEL her behind me. The feeling of terror did not weaken the entire ride home. I was on the verge of tears ALL the way. I got home. Got out of my car. Closed the door without looking and the feeling that she was RIGHT behind me was still there! Something told me I couldn't run. I had to walk. The feeling stayed with me all the way to my apartment, where I opened the door just enough to squeeze through and shut the door. The instant I shut the door, the feeling vanished. I felt drained from the fear, but I was no longer so afraid that I wanted to cry. To this day, I wont drive down that street at night when I go to El Paso to visit! Hoped you enjoyed!

Melba sits at her desk, busily doing all the work Wyvern takes credit for, when a rip in reality itself opens before her. She calmly reaches out and presses the button on her speaker phone, "Uh, Mr. Wyvern, sir? I think you need to come in here." A dark figure steps through the rip, followed by three smaller figures. The rip closes behind them. Vast and ancient energies pulse from the figure, warping time and space around him. Melba once again presses the button and speaks a little louder, "Wyvern, I think you should come out here." The sound of Wyvern's door locking and furniture being moved against the door can be heard. A muffled, "I'm busy, be out as soon as I can!" makes its way through the door. Melba realizes she's on her own. Being the professional that she is, she composses herself and says, "May I help you?" The dark figure moves foreward and seems to transform - no longer does raw power pulse from him. There, before Melba, stands a man about 6 feet tall, with an eye patch and dressed in black leather. A wide brim hat sits atop his head and a cloak (blacker then the darkest pits of the Nether world) flows from his shoulders. Two things remain disturbing about him, he seems to look at Melba with his left eye - which is covered with a patch, and the cloak seems to move on its own, as if it were alive. Behind him were 3 squirrells, fully 3 feet tall and dressed in leather armor. As the stranger starts to walk around the office, looking at every thing, Melba tells him, "Excuse me sir, may I help you? Also, pets are NOT allowed in the office." She is startled at how quickly the 3 are atop her desk and glaring at her. The stranger continues to explore the office, as he quietly speaks, "They are not pets. They are my companions: Mr. Moog, Silvia, and Pith." As they are named, Mr.Moog takes his hat off and hides behind it, shyly, and waves - he is about 6 inches shorter then the other 2, but twice as wide. Silvia - a female squirrel, missing half her tail and with a scar that took the top of her right ear, down across her right eye and through the right side of her mouth (giving her a perminent snarl and an eye patch), just glares. While Pith - the only one that seems to care about his looks, removes his hat and, with a sweeping motion, bows deeply while taking Melba's hand and kissing it. All while keeping his eyes upon her. The stranger continues, " Together, they have killed 9 Dominion and 26 Red Dragons. In fact, the little fat one - Mr. Moog - killed a dragon by himself." Mr. Moog puffs out his chest proudly. Silvia and Pith look at each other - and fall off the desk laughing. Mr. Moog gives them a hurt look. The stranger stops, turns half way towards Melba and with a slight grin says, "The dragon tried to swallow Mr.Moog. . . . and chocked to death." Silvia and Pith finally make their way back on the desk (falling several times from their fits of laughter) while Mr. Moog puts his hat back on, refuses to look at Silvia and Pith and "Humpphh's" a lot. The stranger walks to Melba's desk, "They are powerful mages in their own right. My closest companions and I would personally appreciate if you would treat them as such." A chill ran down Melba's spine, as she realized who the stranger was. A mage of vast power. Power gained from his attempt to take the place of the long dead Blood God. Power from the very source that killed the Blood God. A power that some claim has driven him insane beyond all measures. Melba calmly pressed the intercom button and said, "Mr. Wyvern. Snypiuer is here to see you." A muffled cry and the sound of a window opening is heard from behind the locked door. With a grin, Snypiuer once again began walking around the office. That's when Melba noticed he was pocketing things. She got up, walked over to him and was about to say something when Snypiuer spoke, "Don't really need to see Wyvern." A muffled "Woohoo!" is heard through the door. In a conspiratorial tone, he whispers to Melba, "I believe he thinks I'm after him from the last time we played Nimball™." "Anyways, just felt like stopping by and seeing some old friends." Snypiuer said. "Maybe I'll stick around a bit." Melba stepped back as Snypiuer turned to her with a grin that then froze her in place and said to her, "Maybe cause a little trouble." Power once again began to pulse from him, as he reached out and tore a rip in reality. He stepped through and was followed by his 3 companions. The rip closed and the office was silent. The sound of furniture being moved, was followed by the door to Wyvern's office being unlocked and opened. Wyvern stepped out and said,"Um, I see our guest has left already?" Melba gave Wyvern a look that made him start to molt. "Look," Wyvern said, "We weren't sure if he'd ever show up!" Melba said, "Well, he's here now." "Yup. He's here now." Was all Wyvern could say, as he hung his head and sighed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hi guys, Don't know how often I'll post. Will try to behave. HEY! Why isn't there a little blue smiley with 3 eyes and wrapped with duct tape!?!

Through out the year We await the day That marks........ Wait a minute . Falcon has a girl friend!?! wow. I have been out of the loop WAAAYYY too long! HAPPY B-DAY!! But, most of all, congrats on that girlfriend thing! Guess you're not writing any depressing poems any more! Who'd a thunk it.