Wyvern Posted October 7, 2008 Report Posted October 7, 2008 The news cameras flicker on to an extreme close-up of the word “Dungeon,” which spans the entirety of the screen with its menacing insinuations despite the fancy cursive font that the word is written in. The cameras pan out enough to read the word “Polite” written in front of “Dungeon,” then turn away from the fancy gilded sign to get a wide shot of what appears to be a comfortable-looking penthouse suite. The fine leather couches and curtains of the quarters are complimented by a set of long massage tables resting in the corner, complete with supplementary pillows and massage robes. Mugs of hot chocolate are also made readily available at several chair-side counters, which only adds to the very un-dungeon-like atmosphere of the room. The news cameras turn slightly to focus on Wyvern, who steps onto the scene wearing a faded T-shirt too tight for his scales and a friendship bracelet “shackle” on each wrist. The deteriorated words “Prisoner” and “Peredhil” can be made out on Wyvern’s shirt as he licks a bit of leftover whipped cream from his claws and turns towards the cameras. “Guessss we musta hit the wrong spot.” Wyvern stares up at the ceiling with a disappointed snort, then grumbles and stares at the camera lenses. “Greetingsss, and welcome to the latest Almost Report. We were intending to broadcassst to you live from Peredhil’sss hot stripper party this week, but I guesss this polite dungeon will just have to do for now *grumble*… a happy birthday to Peredhil once again from us at the Report, by the way. Be sure to place your bidsss on his Almost Dragonic Brand Scribble Portrait™ in the Cabaret if you haven’t done so yet, and don’t forget that 0.0000005% of the bid goesss to charity.” Wyvern nods to the cameras with a deep hiss, then signals to two groups of troglyodytes to start searching the area for any signs of orange and black fur. The overgrown lizard moves over to a comfy leather chair adjacent to a massage table and slumps into it, scratching the leather with his scales and drooping his wings over the armrests. The reptilian reporter tilts his neck back and rests for a long moment, then finally hisses: “In current Pen newsss, the gelding season has officially extended beyond almost dragonsss this month as the Mighty Pen’s latest fundraissser is now underway.” Wyvern glances left and right, then pulls out an Almost Dragonic Brand Pen Donation Button Boobytrap™ and sets it so it’s properly camoflauged on the dungeon massage table. “The fundraising goal for thisss fundraiser is $160.00, all of which goes towards the hosting of the Pen site. Anyone who wishes to donate to the Pen can do so by clicking the ‘Paypal Donate’ button at the upper-righthand side of the screen and donating as much as you like. The Pen is a free site of course and no one is required to donate a thing, but we’re alwaysss appreciative of anything you can spare! We’ll keep you updated on the status of the fundraiser up until its December deadline, ssso stay tuned.” Wyvern mumbles something about petitioning for an Almost Dragonic Scheme Donation Button one of these days, then shifts in his seat to the sound of ripping leather. He raps his claws on the side of a massage table for a moment, then scratches his chin and hisses: “I supposssse as long as we’re reporting in these quarters, I might as well plug the latessst in Almost Dragonic Brand Torture Technology.” Wyvern winks to the cameras, then scrunches his snout as he digs into a sack at his side and pulls out a small tray with a large wooden mallet attached to it. “Thisss Almost Dragonic Brand Butter Bludgeoner™ is perfect for those who prefer their creamsss clobbered rather than whipped. The bessst part is, they won’t even realize it’sss a torture device until they tassste the final product! No troll housewife should be in the kitchen/slaughterhouse without thisss appliance.” Wyvern holds up the simplistic device for the cameras to get a better look, then pauses as a troglyodyte searching for fur traces begins inspecting under the chair where he sits. “Ssspeaking of great cooking, a belated happy birthday alssso goes out to Lady Celes Crusador. Long absssent but not forgotten.” Wyvern shuffles out of his seat as two more troglyodytes step into the range of the cameras in search of fur. “Now, if you’ll excussse me, I’ve got a bit of cheerline sssearching of my own to do.” Wyvern turns to wander away from the cameras as more troglyodytes start filling the screen, only to pause to glance down at the “shackles” on his wrists for a moment. “Hrmph! Come to think of it, thessse ‘bonds’ of love and trussst ain’t nearly as strong as I remember’em being…” With that, a troglyodyte steps in front of the central camera lens to inspect it for fur, effectively blacking out the Report.
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