Sweetcherrie

Wooohoooo :woot: :woot: I loved this story, been giggling through half of it, thank you so much for posting this; it made my saturday morning a lot better all of a sudden. The characters are nicely worked out with each their own little quirks, and the references to the original fairytale made them come out even better. I liked the pace of the story, 8 pages when printed, but because it was so well written I really had no difficulties at all reading through them. I've discovered three little finger slip-ups, nothing bad, but maybe you're a bit like me, and would want to get them out lack should probably be back. should probably be "now it's too cold!" There seems to be a word missing in the first part here. I have no idea if there are others, seeing that this story read so well, I might have read over some. Oh, and that I'm taking out the little things, means that I really don't have anything big to say Once again, thanks for posting this, and please, please keep posting this sort of stuff *hugs and then runs off to find out when she can attend a Freakingly Handsome Fairy-Tale Prince ball*

Thank you so much for replying I'm glad to hear that the poem touched something....unfortunately we all probably know these sort of people, and if only I had the strength I would help each and every one of them to not end up on that lonely path.... In the end I would already be glad if I managed to spread some friendship Thanks again for taking the time to read and reply. *huggles* Sweet

You think… You’ve got the right to hurt That you’re the one to say What one and all should do That all should go your way You think… That you’re the only one To tell how things are done The sad thing in this is That you’re so very wrong You see I think… That life is give and take That by giving you receive But, no worry I’ll be on my way Now that must be relief I think… That you’ll end up alone No one to watch your back If you don’t change a bit You’ll take the lonely track

Hmm....Ok, I'll give it a try...and at least say what I felt at reading this... The first stanza really had me going down the spiral, not falling, but almost floating like a feather. Probably because of the "not a pound" part... Then the word 'grinning came' and I stumbled, which is definitely not a bad thing It announced nicely the next part of the poem. The imagery of the second stanza is pretty nice in my opinion, I can see the village nut in front of me....and he wasn't a nut at all, just a bit lost. After this the feel sort of changed from mockery to serious lost love and all that...not too sure if I personally liked that change of feel, but in the complete view of the poem it fits well. Technicalities are not my strongest point in poetry, and I won't say anything about that here, I think what's important is that all in all the poem was one that I definitely enjoyed reading, and that has left me with a pretty good image. Thank you *huggles warmly* Welcome and yes, please let us have more of this

Sorry drum, been meaning to reply earlier.... I liked all of the songs, but defintitely think that "Gone Away" is the best I've probably said this before, but your band would do great in '2 meter sessies'. It's a music program in Holland, and if you ever managed to find some of the music recorded during that show have a listen....pretty sure you'd like it

Her eyes grew big, had he really said that he would go scavenger hunting with her? This must be a dream day. Sweet jumped at him, hugged him happily, and then started pulling him out of the Recruiter's Office. Two moments later she suddenly thought about something. "You stay here!" Sweet told Cerberus and ran back inside, where she started bouncing around the almost dragon. "Aww...come on Mr Lizard, you know you want to play with us..." She stopped bouncing for almost a whole ten seconds and looked up at Wyvern with begging eyes.

a fluffy kangaroo, including the pink feathers of course. The knight rode (read wobbled) over the moutains and into the hills and there he discovered...

Ok, you asked for feedback... First of all let me say that I think the story was nice, otherwise I wouldn't have taken the time out to write extensive feedback on it In my opinion both characters need more feelings. We see their actions, but their feelings could be worked out a bit more. Scry dies, but seeing I hardly got to know her it touched me less than it might have when we knew what she had felt about her vision, her life, herself... Also, I'm not a native english speaker, but the tenses seem to change almost every paragraph... I keep having problems with this so I won't be able to tell you where exactly you have to change what, but sometimes I was reading the story in the present and other times it was as if it happened a long time ago. There are also quite a few weird sentence constructions in the story that had me stumbling every time. If you would like a more detailed version of this I can send it to you by PM Personally I'm not too fond of starting sentences with 'but' and you've started a couple of them with that. There are quite few words that you could use instead of this word, and I saw one case where a comma would solve the whole problem. Prevent repetition by variation. Lastly, and I've had a hard time with this as well in the beginning, but online reading is a lot easier when you leave space between the paragraphs, and everytime someone says something you start on a new line. (thanks Wyvern btw ) for example: Would probably look better: As I said in the beginning, I really like this story and I hope to read more of your stories on the Pen in the future.

With the carnival almost over Sweet bounced into Wyvern’s office, looking for someone to play with. She asked the nice door neatly if he would let her in, and ran up to the new person. “Hello…..who are you? Are you nice? You look nice. Do you want to play?” Cerberus was still staring at the accepted stamp on his story, and the energetic entrance of the little girl threw him off balance. “Errr…yes?” “Yes? Yes! Ooh, goodie this will be so good, we can play tag, and we can colour, and and” Sweet was summing up a great list of games they could play, but suddenly she was silent and looked at Cerberus with a question mark on her face. Obviously an answer was expected, if only he could remember what she had said last....

Siteless in Seattle? Mr. Google told me that Seattle is called 'The Emerald City' so maybe something with Emerald in the name?

Sweetcherrie fiddled with her geldbag, and counted of she could afford to bid again, after all she also had to think about the Bachelors being auctioned off....but she really wanted this... "21!"

Congratulations

Sweetcherrie nods, and with that confirms her bid of 15 geld.

Morning Glory. Lost and alone Pearl between the pigs Silver ray of sunlight Clouds of dawn Night retreats Diamond for the dogs Grey on the pillow Insomnia sleeps Gold left behind Fluke for the flocks Spirit fought down Bleak refined OOC: I've been tweaking this ever since Appy gave me the headline, I might still make small changes, but for the moment I'm not too unhappy with it

Sweetcherrie ads the last headline to her list and declares it closed.

Time slowed down for maintenance. She stood on that lonely station, watched the trains pass her by, slowly lifted up her hand, and wiped the tears away she’d cried. With the tears the years of learning were gone, and time had come to make a new start, right from deep inside her heart hummed a song long forgotten, long lost into the realms of tomorrow. Where time had stopped, and slowed down for maintenance.

Sleep can save rare rhino. At this hour the zoo was still, the monkeys were still asleep in their caves, and even the normally so loud chattering of the exotic birds was subdued. Matt loved these hours of the day; no visitors yet, and all around him the calm breathing of sleeping animals. With a relaxed pace he walked passed the cages, and stopped to pat one of the ponies that had stuck its nose over the fencing. From the outside Matt looked utterly calm, but inside a storm of excitement was raging. Today the latest acquisition would arrive; a rare, white rhino. The animal had been spotted in a circus and the director had sent out men to ensure the zoo of this rare creature, and today, finally, the rhino would arrive. Ever since he’d been a kid, he’d wanted to become a rhinologist, and though all the advisors had said that he would not be able to make it through his studies, sheer determination had pulled him through. Hours and hours he’d been studying alone in his room, and he still read everything there was to read on rhinos…and now he would get to meet one of the rarest species of all. The nights before he’d had difficulties to even sleep, but he didn’t feel tired at all; adrenaline was pumping through his body, and kept him wide-awake. The truck with the animal would arrive in about twenty minutes, and he had prepared everything with the same care as one would prepare the arrival of a newborn. Whistling happily he rounded the corner towards the gate where he would wait for the truck to arrive when his phone rang. A little annoyed about being called now he wanted to fully concentrate on what was coming he picked up. “Hello?….yes…yes…no! What happened?….Yes, of course…I’ll be there in five minutes.“ Matt ran back to his car, and within the five minutes he was at the scene of the accident. The truck was lying on the side, and the backdoors had slammed open by the power of which it had crashed into the trees. Inside the cage with the rhino in it was open, and the poor animal was lying on its side. Blood was streaming out the side where it had been hit by some flying object. Matt looked in its eyes, and it was almost as if it was begging him not let him die. It wanted to live, it wanted to breath and run, and walk free, and….Matt’s heart was beating fast, he felt so sorry for the poor thing, something had to be done. From the trunk of his car he took the blowpipe and the sedative arrows. Quickly he shoved one in the pipe and walked back to the animal. Ten minutes later the rhino was fast asleep and they could start to get the animal out of the wreck. Matt left others to deal with the police and made sure that the rhino got all the best care that they could provide. They transferred the sleeping animal to an open trailer, and with haste they brought it to the medical centre of the zoo; there, the medical specialists did all they could to save it. The right side of the animal was torn open entirely, and they had difficulties to sow the tough skin back together. All this time Matt was pacing around in the waiting room, in his state they wouldn’t let him inside the operation room, and after he’d bitten off all his nails he’d started pacing. The carpet was showing the wear of thousands of feet that had done the same before him, but Matt didn’t notice anything about his surroundings. With his right hand he kept pushing his glasses up against the bridge of his nose, and a red line had appeared already. He was just about to turn around again to pace back towards the door, when one of the surgeons came out of the operating room. “and?” His voice was tense, as tense as he felt, as if he was a jack in the box that could be let out any moment. “He can survive…but we’ll have to keep him asleep for a while….at least a week. His heart would not be able to stand anymore stress at the moment.” Matt gasped, never before had this been tried with a mammal this big. It was already risky enough to anaesthetize an animal this big, to keep it asleep for a week, or more, was downright ridiculous. The surgeon must have seen the expression of disbelief on Matt’s face. “It will be risky, but it’s our only chance.” It looked as if he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth again and turned away to make his way back, but Matt stopped him. “Can I…can I go and see him?” The surgeon turned back and nodded. “But be prepared, he won’t look pretty at the moment I’m afraid.” Matt swallowed hard, and followed the man back inside. There were tubes sticking out the rhino to drain abundant fluids, and a pump was at the same time making sure that it kept breathing and asleep. A lump appeared in Matt’s throat, the mighty animal looked so helpless, and in those moments that they had looked into each other’s eyes a bond had been forged. He simply had to survive! he had to! A week went by, and the rhino slowly recovered, but the surgeons said it would be better to keep him asleep for a few days longer. Matt visited every day, and if possible twice a day. A few times the rhino balanced on the edge of death, but every time the medical staff managed to pull him back to life’s side again. When ten days had passed the medical team decided that they would try to wake the rhino up. They had baptized him Brady by now, and they would slowly bring Brady back to the waken world by graduately lowering the amount of anaesthetics used. They transported the animal to an environment where it would be safe for him to wake up, and started the procedure. One kept checking its heartbeat, and another verified its breathing. They all held their breath when the chief surgeon said that this would be the point that he should start waking up. The only sound heard was that of the breathing pump, but nothing else happened. The beep of the heart machine was still regular, but the rhino didn’t move, and then all happened at the same time. The heart machine flatlined, the breathing pump stopped pumping, and all the people from the medical staff started running around to do what they could to save the animal. Matt, who had been watching, felt his insides pull together, as if someone had tied a rope around it and slowly pulled it tighter. After all they had done, this couldn’t happen, it simply wasn’t allowed to happen. After half an hour of hard work, the head surgeon called the time; the rhino had passed away. At first they wanted to dispose of the body in the usual way, through the burner, but Matt objected heavily. He felt that Brady deserved a more dignified treatment; it wasn’t as if he was just an ordinary animal. He managed to convince the management, and they allowed him to bury the animal in a quiet place at the back of the zoo. It wasn’t easy to dig a hole large enough to fit an animal this size, but in the end they got it done. The day that they buried Brady, Matt felt dead inside. The strong ties that had come into being during that short moment of connection when he had looked straight into the mirrors of the animal’s soul had been cruelly ripped. He cried shamelessly about the death of this majestic animal; king amongst his own kind, and wished they had never brought him over. They should have left him where he was happy. His phone rang, and he cursed as he picked up. “Yes?” It came out rather harsher than he had meant to. “What? Where?…..really?…wow, yes, of course I’ll be there in about an hour.” He hung up, and sped off. The director had called that they had found a rare rhino somewhere in a distant zoo in Africa; a female white rhino, very rare, very rare indeed.

12. Sharpein Commerce Flourishes, Cuban Cigars in Style. The walls were closing in on him. The horrid smell of the other inmates entered his nose, and made him feel sick, but he didn’t want to add his own sting to the already acid air. So, he breathed shallowly, and tried to put his mind into getting out of here, instead of going round in circles on how he managed to get in here……he’d never thought a Cuban cigar would manage to land him in jail. On his way to the black market the shadows in this part of the city provided him with enough places to hide, and he made sure that no one would see him. Nowadays it wasn’t good to be seen in this area, people would start thinking funny stuff, and he was only here to get a good deal out of this whole business. It had been going great for the Sharpein commerce lately, and he thought that he deserved a piece of the pie, a big piece as well. Who had decided that that Voodoo Jimmy would have to get al the honors anyways? Ever since he had made that mistake he’d been getting all the dough, and the ladies. But he didn’t mind too much, he was snacking along. In fact, he’d gotten the goods for today from Jimmy himself. It was especially this last thing that he was after, and not just any lady, it was a special lady. Her eyes were like tropical seas, her mouth like a rose petal, and her…no he shouldn’t think of her now. It would only make him lose his concentration, and make mistakes. He slid around the corner, and found the door he’d been looking for. He knocked twice short, then waited and knocked another time. The door opened and a hooded figure asked him his name, after giving it he could slip inside. The hooded figure cast a glance over the streets and when he saw it was safe he closed the door once more. Blue lines were circling up from various corners of the room and the air was heavy with smoke, cigar smoke. He looked around; his eyes searching for that special person who he knew would have the stash. Finally he found him. Sitting on an enormous red, velvet pillow was the boss of bosses, the godfather of Sharpein, the heavenly divine Kingpen. His rolls were falling over each other, and next to him were two poodles with big fans made of peacock feathers that were waving him fresh air. He looked around the room as a king would look around his court. When their eyes met, a short nod followed. Kingpen retreated and he followed into the backroom. “You have them?” “Yes sir.” “Good.” Money exchanged hands, and he left as stealthily as he had come. In the dense space of the cell he let his mind wonder over the love of his life. She had loved him; if it hadn’t been love he had no idea what was. The memories of her scent and body were so vivid that for a short moment he could feel her softness. He pulled himself back to the now with force. He simply had to get out of here. With the money he’d gotten from the king stashed deep inside his pockets he made his way onwards to the next stop. Kingpen had been happy with his special Cuban cigars, they were rare nowadays, at least ever since some weird guy named Bob had managed to crash the cigar market. He didn’t mind though, it had offered him an excellent opportunity to earn some extra money, and get his darling something extra nice for her birthday. He entered the perfume shop, and looked around at the different exotic names; “Catnip”, “Postman”, “Tree”, even “Roll in the Grass” was still available, but he wanted something special. He nodded to the sales lady, and she guided him to a back door, here he was told to wait. Moments later, the owner himself came walking over. “Can I help you sir?” “Yes, I would like the special please.” The owner grinned a pointy-teethed grin, bowed, and disappeared again, only to appear again only seconds later. He carried a golden bottle in his hands, and gently handed it over. “Will this do sir?” “This will be perfectly fine, please rap it up.” The delicate bottle was wrapped up in velvet, and when the gift was ready it looked worth at least a thousand dollars, and this was also about the amount he had to pay. He left the shop with the precious gift in his pocket, feeling happy anticipation to see her face when he gave it to her. He turned the corner, and was hit to the ground. Two policemen were standing over him with their guns at hand. “Hold it right there!” His head was banging, and the bottle had broken in his pocket; the precious liquid inside was wetting his legs. “What’s wrong?” He tried to get back up, but was worked back to the ground, and one of the policemen cuffed him. “You’re being charged with murder.” He had no idea what they were talking about, but hoped that once they were at the station it would all be explained, and he resisted no further. At the station however, they didn’t even take the time to listen to anything he said, and he was thrown in a cell without further questions. He had asked for them to listen, and asked them for an explanation, but none had been given. His sweetheart would be so angry with him for being late at her birthday; he couldn’t disappoint her. He stood up and once more started banging the bars of the door. “Let me out!” Finally someone decided to react. A big, fat dog came walking over and rattled the bars of his cell. “Shut your mouth, murderer.” He hadn’t stolen. Why did they keep calling him a murderer? “Excuse me, but what am I being charged with? And what exactly happened?” “Don’t play innocent mister, you know very well that those cigars you gave to Kingpen were poisoned, he died after having inhaled twice.” He felt the blood pull away from his face. He…killed…someone? “You’ll go to your hearing tomorrow, but we don’t treat murderers lightly.” He sank back to the bed, and over thought what had happened. He’d simply bought and sold goods, and those goods weren’t even illegal to sell, but if Kingpen died, something must have been wrong with those cigars. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, he’d find out tomorrow. He knew that somehow he must have fallen asleep, because he woke up with a shock the next morning. He wasn’t given the chance to shave or wash himself, but was dragged into court straight from out of the dirty cell. He was put on the witness stand, and all did their stories. Basically he was charged with murder, and all the evidence was so over clear that he saw no possibility to get out of this. Finally, the judged looked at him. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?” At exactly that moment the door in the back of the court opened, and his heart jumped with relief. His love came walking in. Seconds later his heart felt as if it would break; just behind her came Voodoo Jimmy. They walked to the front and he put an arm around her as she nestled close against him. He blinked, and looked from the judge at the love of his life, and back. “No your honor.” The judge had followed his stare, but didn’t say anything about it, instead he bid people to get up and hear the verdict. “This man has murdered The King by knowingly selling him poisoned cigars, he…” The judge’s voice droned on, but he could only look at his love. She was kissing Jimmy now, and hadn’t even looked at him once. He was silently wishing he’d had one of those cigars now. He wanted to die, and didn’t care anymore what would happen to him, they had betrayed him. “….of 15 years in prision.” The hammer came down. It would mean life for him, but he was dead already.

Beaver attacks man's log. I'm sorry for all of you that can't read this story, but my inspiration led me to write something with this headline that ended up in the Scarlett Pen. For those that can access that forum this is the link.

The cemetery everyone is dying to get into. With her head in her neck she looked at the trees. The leaves waved at her and the sun speckled through them, and left her face freckled with sunspots. The trees were of the kind that was so high you could hardly imagine them ending when you looked up, and their green leaves rustled softly in the summer breeze. All together there were twelve of them, and they were encircling the marble tomb like the numbers on the clock encircled the centre. Rumours said that the statue on top of the tomb wasn’t really a statue, but a witch that had been turned into stone long ago, when the fairies till dances on flowers, and there still lived gnomes in the old estates. Rumours also said that the witch had been turned into stone when she tried to steal away the king’s son by placing an enchantment on him that would make him love her. It was such a romantic story that she just had to come and see it with her own eyes, and here she was. It wasn’t the only thing around worth seeing; all around there were long forgotten artefacts of even longer forgotten times. She had already seen a couple of small temples that were decorated with names of the rich families that had found their last place of resting, and some of the mausoleums were so big that her house could easily have fitted in them. The journey to this place had been long, but it had been worth it. She never again wanted to live through that again, and although this was highly unlikely, she had taken all the precautions possible. She had her own sort of enchantments. When she had arrived the pain was screaming through her body, and for the first couple of hours all she could do was sit still and try to breathe shallowly. It had felt as if every bone on her body was broken, including her ribs, but now she felt tip-top ok. The sun was crawling downwards across the sky, and she knew that she would have to find a place to sleep soon….but first she just wanted to enjoy just sitting here. She had waited a lifetime to get here, and now she wanted to stay here as long as possible. In the distance she heard children’s voices, laughing and gay. What a joy to be a child; careless and innocent, and still able to enjoy the little pleasures that life had to offer. In a way every experience that man gained, only numbed his feelings, and with every new discovery he’d feel a bit less of the wonder he’d felt with the first discovery. She remembered well the first time she had ever left her hometown to travel all the way into the big city. The city had been only two hours from her village, but for her, back then, it had seemed an eternity away. When even the last traces of red and gold had fled from the sky, and the clouds were slowly making their way down she got up, stretched her back, and walked towards where she hoped she could find a bed for the night. The cemetery was quiet now, and instead of walking towards the great entrance gates she walked towards where she knew would be the smaller side entrance. Even in the evening the air in here was drenched with lost voices and everlasting peace. She could almost hear them whispering to her, and some of the voices were all too familiar. She reached the small wooden door, but when she placed her hand on the handle to open it she noticed how it was locked. The guard had probably already done his round and had closed the gate for the night. With a small sigh she started walking back towards the grand entrance, taking a different route now, she knew she would pass the place that was reserved for her; right next to her husband. It had been a while since she had visited the grave; it always gave her the shivers to see the empty spot next to his name reserved for her own, and if possible she avoided looking at it. And though she loved the cemetery, she had hired someone to place fresh flowers on her husband’s grave; the thought simply hurt her too much still. When he had died, part of her had died with him, and she had never felt the same again. He had died too young; not even forty and the truck driver that had hit his car had brought a small fortune of flowers to the funeral. Many times she had thought about…but no, she shouldn’t think about this. There was the grave. The familiar shiver ran over her spine, and she stopped to look at the grave. She ran her hand over the carved out letters of his name, and glanced sideways to where her own name would be….but… Her own name was there! She felt her legs shake, and the next moment she knew that her legs would no longer carry her. Sinking down to the ground, she heard her name. “May, why?” She looked up, felt a bone shift in her battered body, and saw him. Her husband looked at her sadly. “Why May? Why did you do this to that poor train driver?”

Prized ducks set off alarms day and night. “Where did that bird go this time?” Sweetcherrie looked around her room, and checked the fireplace. The phoenix definitely liked sleeping in there, but this time he was nowhere to be seen. She sighed, and hoped for the best. It was true, Troy had been behaving rather strange lately, running off in the middle of the night, only to come back very early in the morning. Luckily the bird had finally learned to control his fiery flames, and he was starting to discover how to use his healing powers. He was growing more beautiful by the day, and was also becoming more responsible. Where at first he’d constantly been sending images of candy to Sweetcherrie, he would now wish her an enjoyable diner, before he would even start his own food, and where at first he’d only wanted to play, he was now calmer and on the whole he was growing up fast. Sweetcherrie had never thought about kids, but Troy almost felt as one sometimes, and she could now imagine how hard it must be for parents to let their children go into the grown-up world. With Troy running off every night she almost felt as if she had a teenager on the verge of leaving the nest, and it filled her with sadness. She walked out the door to enjoy the last sunshine of that day, and headed into the direction of the lake. Sitting at the side of the lake, with only the soothing sound of birds and the water, Sweetcherrie felt her worries disappear a bit. Being lost in thought wasn’t the only reason she didn’t hear Troy until he was right next to her; the phoenix was flying! Gracious and silent he lighted next to her and laid his head on her shoulder to be cuddled. Impressed with what she’d just seen she stroked the bird’s head, and he hummed softly under her touch. So that must have been what he’d been doing all those nights out! Inside she smiled and sent images of love and affection to Troy, and got the same feelings in return….and something else… Ducks? Why was Troy sending her images of ducks? She asked him to explain himself, and all she got was more confused images about ducks and some sort of bird show. She shook her head, and decided that he’d probably met some birds somewhere and was so enthusiastic about it that he wanted to share it with her. She cuddled some more, and then the bird flew off again. Feeling relaxed Sweetcherrie decided to have an early night and walked back to her room. Within ten minutes after she had lied down she was fast asleep. The next morning she woke up feeling all warm and sweating, and the reason was clear immediately; Troy had come back and had curled up against her. The fire the bird was spreading didn’t hurt her, but it did make sure that she was awfully hot. She slid out of bed without waking the bird up, and walked to get a shower when someone knocked on her door. Quickly slipping on a bathrobe she opened the door. “Hello?” A very angry looking man stood in front of her. The man was wearing clothes you would only see at the countryside, including the muddy boots on his feet. Sweetcherrie decided that she’d better not ask him in, and just looked at him inquisitively. “Do you own a firebird lady?” “No sir, I don’t drive a car.” “I mean a proper fiery bird lady, one that flies.” In her head Sweetcherrie was starting to panic, and sighed. “What has he done this time?” “He’s managed to start a revolution under my ducks, miss.” “A what?” “A revolution miss, he managed to convince some of my best ducks that they have the right to fly free, and now all they do is honk day and night to be let out of their cages.” Sweetcherrie swallowed, and looked back in the room….Troy was nowhere to be seen. Of course, she should’ve known he hadn’t only been gone to learn how to fly. By now she started to get a bit angry with the phoenix, and decided that he would get some lessons in obedience when he got back. She turned back to the farmer. “I’m sorry mister it won’t happen again.” “What? But I want it to happen again, my ducks have never scored higher on the shows. Because of your bird they suddenly feel proud of who they are, and this shows when I show them.” At hearing this all Sweetcherrie could do was blink, but the farmer continued. “I would like to buy that bird of you miss.” The only possible reaction to this could be laughter, so that’s what she did; she laughed until she had tears in her eyes, and had to squeeze her legs together so she wouldn’t pee in her pants. “You mean to say you want Troy? He…he’s not mine” She tried to breath in the middle, but found it quite difficult, “besides you wouldn’t like him setting your house on fire mister, here there’s some magical protection at least, but there…” She giggled some more, until she saw how the man’s head had drooped. Sweetcherrie felt a bit sorry for him, and thought about what she could do to cheer him up again. “I tell you what, I’ll speak to him, and ask him friendly not to go back, knowing Troy this will then be exactly what he will do, deal?” He gave her a suspicious look, but apparently realized that this would be the best he would get. He shook her hand, and left. Sweetcherrie laughed some more, and walked over to the shower, mumbling that this was one of the strangest ways to start the day.

Update: Only 1 more! Phase 1: 1.Saved for the second time 2.Then there was rain 3.Cuban Commerce Collapses! 4.Police puts lid on pot 5.Armadillo Speaks 6.Dogs gone and done it again 7.Pigeons drop drop project; collect crap 8.Parasites under our skin, locals complain 9.Prized ducks set off alarms day and night 10.The cemetary everyone is dying to get into 11.Beaver attacks man's log 12.Sharpein Commerce Flourishes, Cuban Cigars in Style. 13.Sleep can save rare rhino 14.Time slowed down for maintenance Oh, and I'm sorry for losing the font Wyvern, but I will keep it in the story that goes with your headline

The prince bent over her, and kissed her softly on her face. Sweetcherrie smiled, she had been waiting for him for most of her life. He kissed her again, but it felt a lot harder all of a sudden, and she was just about to say that he had to be more careful, when he bit her in her leg. With a shock she sat up straight, and looked around bewildered…..and screamed loudly. She was staring straight into two bright, black eyes, and as she blinked the eyes blinked as well. Troy bit her again, and now she was entirely awake. The phoenix sent scared feelings at her with the speed of lightning, and she was about to start feeling dizzy with them when she looked at the clock. Of course this didn’t help, seeing that she was horribly late for the last round of the Beauty Pageant. She jumped up and ran; she couldn’t miss this. She’d been there all the other rounds, and wouldn’t miss the last and final round…no matter the cost. For once she was even too fast for the bird, and the door slammed shut in front of him. Slipping around the corner she ran into the portal and found herself back at the beach. Only twenty meters to the stage…..ten…..five….one…she jumped on stage, and looked around. Her hair was reaching for the sky, and her bikini had twisted in her sleep. A bright red mark where Troy had bitten her was starting to show on her leg, and all in all she was simply a mess. Trying to regain her breath she grabbed the microphone. The first sound that sang over the audience was her wheezing for air, and she decided there and then that she should pick up sports again. All she could get out was a hello and a thank you; she turned once in front of the jury and exited the stage possibly even faster than she had come on. Finally, this nightmare was over.

Sweetcherrie had looked at the presentation with fascination; it would be hard to chose, but she already had a couple of people in mind. Some of the people that had presented themselves here she hardly knew, but that would probably make it only more fun. As Venfyxatu stepped off the stage, Sweetcherrie stepped on it. She was getting used to talking into the microphone and managed to barely make it sing this time as she announced that the presentation round was closed, and the bidding could start. “Please ladies, you can bid on the three gentlemen of your choice and send this in a Personal Message to me or Katzaniel. The bidding will be closed around Tuesday so make haste, thank you for your attention.” With this she stepped of the stage again, and prepared her own bids.

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