How the dying see it

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How the dying see it
Topic Started: 15 Oct 2009, 12:49 PM (95 Views)
cheesebug	15 Oct 2009, 12:49 PM Post #1
Ultimate Threadkiller Posts: 1,865 Group: Members Member #295 Joined: 3 July 2009	This is my story. yes, i stole the names ira and jonathan, and the opening scene. not plagiarism, i edited it quite a bit. so here ya go! btw, typing this at school....snicker. How The Dying See It Chapter 1 Ira looked out the car window, rain splattering against it making a drumming sound. Her daughter would’ve loved this weather. She wished she could see it. “We’ll be there in a few more hours.” said Ira’s husband, Jonathan. “I know it sounds like a lot, but this is a shortcut. On the interstate it would take an extra day.” He took a swig from his little metal flask and sighed. Ira’s brown hair fell on her face. She tried to brush it away, but suddenly her head hit the top of the car, her seatbelt ripped and her window shattered in her lap. A scream escaped her lips. It was all over in a matter of seconds. Ira climbed out the shattered window of the upside-down car, glass cutting her arms. She observed the crash dizzily. “Jonathan!” she yelled as her husband groaned and climbed out of his window. He stood up in a pile of shattered widow glass. “Are you okay? What happened?” Jonathan held his head as he looked at his new ruined sportscar. “There was a deer in the middle of the damn road. I’m sorry.” “Great! Now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere because of a damn deer! I told you to stay on the interstate!” “You know, I tried to stay on the interstate, alright? I.....I just thought this would be shorter.” Ira shook her head. Jonathan came behind her and hugged her. She shrugged him off. Her silence scared him. “You know, I think Tia would’ve loved the shortcut. Look at this scenery!” “Don’t bring her up, Jonathan.” “Wha- how are you ever going to get over this...THING you’re in if you can’t even say your daughter’s name?” “We never took her anywhere.” “Yes we did!” Ira turned and looked at her husband. His shiny oiled black hair fell on his broad forehead. His dark blue jacket flipped in the wind coming from the trees behind him. He was frowning. “Why didn’t you just stay on the interstate, Jon?” “Oh I don’t know, Ira. Maybe I just wanted to take this trip and crash so I could hear you nag about it ON and ON and ON!!!” Ira turned and hugged herself against the cold eyes of Jonathan. He stuttered. “I thought the news station had said-Wait! Did you hear that?” “Hear what?” “I think the engine just made a noise.” Ira and Jonathan could barely find the car in the thick forest smog. Ira could see though that Jonathan’s neck was gushing blood. “Oh dear Jon, you’re bleeding. Forget about the car right now. We have to go get help.” Jonathan brought his hand up to his neck then in front of his face. “Darn it.” he cursed as blood oozed off his hand and on to his cheek. The couple silently walked down the road. In about fifteen minutes, they came to a gas station. Chapter 2 Jonathan walked up to the large gas station window and looked inside. “Is anyone in there?” “I don’t think so.” Thick smog curled around their feet. Down the road a little farther, a neon pharmacy sign blinked on and off, and finally went out. A man dressed in an officer’s uniform came out the gas station door. “What are you two doing outside? Get in here!” he yelled at them. Jon looked over at Ira, then walked inside. Ira followed. Inside, Ira looked around. The bright artficial lights stung her eyes, not used to the brightness from being outside in the dark. At the counter, a man worked on a model car. TIM read his nametag. He kept looking over uneasily at the man who had invited them inside, who was currently blocking the door. A young man with reddish brown hair and a gawky build worked on a snapping and crackling fax machine in the corner. A fat man sat near the counter watching a small buzzing television. Near where the gas station kept cool drinks, a scruffy hobo snored. Jonathan sat down and held his neck. Ira walked over to the man guarding the door. “What’s going on outside?” she asked him. “Why are so many people here?” The man glanced at her from behind his dark sunglasses. Sunglasses at night? “Supernatural forces.” he said. “This is a sign! We have to protect ourselves from the work of Satan, ma’m.” The hobo near the drinks woke up and nodded. Ira backed away a bit. “How is it-” The man at the counter, Tim, looked up from his work. “As if, Rick. There’s nothing out there. It’s just foggy today, that’s all.” Ira guessed Rick was the man who was near the door. “Oh, yeah? Then care to take a walk?” Rick said, reaching for the door handle, but refusing to open it. Tim winced, then went back to his work. Ira turned to Rick. “You know what, I don’t have time for this. My husband is hurt. Is there any way I can get him a first aid kit?” The man in the back piped up, “We don’t got no first aid kit ‘round heuh, but down the road is a pharmacy. You could go theres, if it’s urgent.” “It kindof is.” said Ira. She read the man’s nametag. It read “JARED-MANAGER”. “No!” shouted Rick. “I will not allow anyone to go out there until I get further notice of the situation.” Tim mimicked Rick behind his little counter. “Myeh Myeh Myeh......” he sneered, rolling his little car back and forth. An old man in a labcoat came out of a door market EMPLOYEES ONLY. “Hey, I have the tool you wanted right here, Sloan. It-” He paused when he saw Ira. “Oh! Hello. Great, another one. It’s getting stuffy in here. Jonathan groaned again. The man turned to the teenager working on the fax machine. “I’m Winslou, I own the pharmacy down the street. And this is my son, Sloan.” The boy looked up from his work to grab the tool. He nodded at Ira. “‘Sup?” Ira smiled. Then she looked back at Winslou. “You wouldn’t happen to have any medicine on you, would you? At least an Advil?” Winslou sadly shook his head. “At least some sanitizer?” she tried again. The pharmacist shook his head again and turned to his son. “A....band-aid?” whispered Ira, too quiet for anyone to hear her. She sat next to Jonathan. “Crap.” she muttered. “We’re screwed.” Jonathan muttered something about, “crazy stupid cops” then leaned into Ira’s lap. She stroked his cobalt hair, bits of dried blood falling out. Chapter 3 Ira Walked over to Rick. He had his hand on his gun, glaring at Tim. Tim moved his hands quickly around the counter, grabbing at this and that to add to his model. “You seem a little hostile towards Tim,” Ira observed. “Why is that?” Rick turned from his position at the window to look at her. “He’s so juvenille.....” sneered Rick with disgust. “I know he’s up to no good. Probably has drugs stashed somewhere around here.” “Drugs? Why don’t you search him?” “I don’t have a warrant!” “Then how do you know he has them?” He opened his mouth to answer, but shielded his eyes from two orange lights coming closer to the station. They belonged to a little pink car parking up front. A lady in her early 20’s came out, her shiny blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders. She opened the door causing the bell to jingle, but didn’t close it. Rick shut it quickly and scowled. “That’s Tim’s sister, Cherri.” he growled. “She’s probably his accomplice.” Cherri stared at Jonathan on the floor, the hobo in the corner and the angry cop glaring at her. Then she shugged and walked over to Tim. Tim barely looked up as his giggly sister started talking to him and started swinging her little pink purse. Ira felt a little uncomfortable. And a little intimidated by the pretty young woman. “So........” she started to break the tension, “What do you like to do in your spare time?” “I’m probably the best one here at sudoku.” Rick boasted. “I can finish an intermediate puzzle in less than a minute!” His eyes shifted to Cherri. She was handing Tim a little packet full of a white powder. But it was not whiter than her teeth. In a flash, Rick whipped out his gun and pointed it at the packet. “Finally!” yelled Rick. “I’ve been waiting for an excuse to take you down, Tim. Now you’re using your poor sister as your main supplier?!?” Tim looked up. “What?!?” Ira let out a scream as the gun sounded. Her scream wasn’t louder than Cherri’s, though. Cherri held her arm, spewing blood. “He shot me!!!!!!” She screamed. She dropped the packet and fell to the ground. Tim stared in awe at his sister. Then a growl rose and got louder in his throat. “Yoooooouuuuuuu BASTARD!!!” he screamed as he jumped over the counter and ran for Rick. He tackled him and both the men fell to the floor. “THAT WAS MY ONLY SISTER!!!!!” yelled Tim. He punched Rick in the eyes. His dark sunglasses broke and cut his cheeks. “Don’t you yell at me, you DRUGEE!” shouted Rick. “Surrender! Surrender! I have the gun, not you!” “It was sugar for my coffee!!!!” snarled Tim. “I’m not a druggee, you must be! Or maybe you’re just plain stupid!” Tim flew off of Rick and gasped. Rick had punched him in the chest, and he landed heavily on his arm. He groaned. “You broke it, you idiot! Now the only protection you losers have is injured!!!!!” yelled Tim. Jonathan growled. “Maybe you shouldn’t have tackled a cop.” he said. Tim turned to Jon. “Oh be quiet.” he told him. Then he turned to Ira. “How could you have married such a jerk? A woman as pretty as you!” Ira blushed with anger and flattery. “He’s not a jerk.” she said. “And don’t tell him what to do!” “You’re all crazy!!” yelled Tim. Winslou looked up. “You know what? I’m sick of this. I’m going to the pharmacy. I’ll fax you if I find a medical kit.” he said. He walked out. Nobody seemed to care at the moment, but suddenly Rick slapped himself in the face. “Look at the counter!” he said. “He took the only walkie talkie!” Chapter 4 Ira was holding both Jon and Tim in her lap. They both groaned, then glared at each other. There was a tapping sound near Rick. He screamed. “What-Wha-Is that a-” Rick sputtered. Everyone looked at the window. There was a creature there with the body of a locust, the face of a man and a crown of gold upon it’s head. “What is that thing?” asked Sloan in disgust. The thing buzzed as more gathered around it. “I TOLD you it was a sign from God!” declared Rick. “How does this have anything to do with God?” sneered Jon. Rick walked up and tapped the glass. “These creatures where sent from Him to tell us something.......This is the end of times. These are the rulers of this world now!” “Look,” interrupted Jonathan. “I grew up in a Christian family and the God I grew up with doesn’t do these kinds of things!” ”No, I’m serious,” said Rick, pulling a small book from his pocket. The New Testament. He started to read from Revelations, 9:6 to 9:10 “9:6 In those days people will seek death, and will in no way find it. They will desire to die, and death will flee from them. 9:7 The shapes of the locusts were like horses prepared for war. On their heads were something like golden crowns, and their faces were like people's faces. 9:8 They had hair like women's hair, and their teeth were like those of lions. 9:9 They had breastplates, like breastplates of iron. The sound of their wings was like the sound of chariots, or of many horses rushing to war. 9:10 They have tails like those of scorpions, and stings.” Sloan crept up to the glass. “That can’t be true. These things can’t just come out of nowhere, it’s against the rules of science!” “Against the rules of science,” mimicked Rick. “If you and your father rely on your, your PUNY science so much, then explain just how these things got here without the Lord’s help.” Sloan was silent. Rick sneered. Sloan sulked and went back to fixing the dying fax machine. Jared snuck on up to the glass, also. “They’re everywhere. That doesn’t help buisness at all, does it? Goddamn-“ “BLASPHEMY!” screamed Rick, pointing his gun at Jared’s head. “Thou shall not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain; For the LORD will not hold him guiltless that thy taketh thy name in vain!” “KNYEK! KNYEK!” agreed the hobo. Or disagreed. Ira wasn’t sure. Rick turned to him. “Shut up.” He said. “Shut up.” Repeated the hobo. “Stop it!” “Stop it!” “You know what? I’m going to do the same thing and see how it makes YOU feel.” “You know what? I’m going to do the same thing and see how it makes YOU feel.” “You know what? I’m going to do the same thing and see how it makes YOU feel.” This absurdness went on for quite a while. In the meantime, Jared quietly went up behind Rick and reached for Rick’s gun, still clenched in his hand. Rick flipped around and again aimed the gun at Jared. “Dawg, you crazy!” yelled Jared, wrapping his arms around his small dome-shaped head. With the sound of gunshot he was on the floor. Ira screamed as blood splattered on her shirt. Jonathan was covered in it. Sloan looked up at the gunshot. “My father is trying to send us something!” he yelled, barely acknowledging that another person had been shot. “The stupid fax machine is jammed with a-“ Sloan pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of the machine. He smoothed it out. “…With a Sudoku puzzle?” he continued, holding it up. It was halfway done, with a few crossouts every other square. “You know what, I better go see what my father needs. I’ll be right back.” Sloan took an axe from the corner and left. Rick did not hold him back. Chapter 5 Ira got up. Jon and Tim’s heads fell from her lap to the ground. They scowled at each other. Just as she got to her feet, the fax machine, unattended, completely exploded. A piece flew right past Ira’s face, then fell behind the counter, smoking a black haze.  “Oh, crap.” Said Ira. “I forgot to tell Sloan to get the first aid from the pharmacy. I’ll be right back.” She walked towards the door. All three men yelled “STOP!” Rick came forward and pushed his gun into Ira’s hand. “Take this. I doubt Sloan knows how to swing an axe correctly if he can’t take a piece of paper out of a machine.” Jon came up behind Ira and hugged her. “Stay safe.” He said. “I’ll be fine.” Ira assured him. Jon looked at his wife with the gun in her hand and the sad smile on her face. He held his hand up to his neck. “You fascinate me.” He said. Ira turned and headed out the door. “I hope you’ve seen enough. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She smiled and disappeared. Turning the corner, Ira spotted Sloan wildly thrashing around his axe at the locusts attracted to him. “They don’t freaking die!” he yelled to Ira, who almost laughed. Then she felt ashamed that she could be happy in this situation. She walked around him quickly and yelled, “QUIT IT!!” Sloan put the axe down. “Sorry.” He said. Ira grabbed the young man by his thin hand and pulled him along towards the blinking pharmacy sign. “If these locusts don’t kill us, you sure will.” She muttered. Upon entering the pharmacy, they found it dark and cold. It reeked of death. There was a buzzing sound on the other sign of the room. Sloan screamed and rushed towards it. Ira, her eyes finally adjusting to the damp dark, saw Sloan huddled over a bloody pile. Next to it lay the first aid kit. All that remained of the once-person was a white labcoat. “Oh, Sloan, I’m so sorry,” whispered Ira. Sloan closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. The other deaths and the whole night itself must’ve calloused him up. He’d feel it later. Ira knew that. “It’s fine. I don’t need a father. I’m seventeen, damnitt. Now let’s just get the first aid kit and get out of here.” He snarled. Ira picked up the first aid kit and opened it. “Shoot.” She said. “We need gauze for Tim’s arm.” “Top shelf.” Was the icy reply given. Ira had reached up when another boyish shriek sounded. “It’s….it’s moving!” Sloan whispered. Ira looked down. The bloody pile twitched. She squealed. The two ran out of the pharmacy as quick as they could, Sloan with his axe and Ira with her first aid kit, a loaded gun getting looser and looser from her belt loop with each frenzied step she took. She hoped Sloan wouldn’t fall onto his axe. They rushed into the gas station, and Sloan shivered to the ground. Ira stood at the door, panting. The bloody axe in Sloan’s hand clanged to the hard linoleum floor. Jonathan ran over to his wife and grabbed the first aid box. He threw it to the ground and turned Ira around to inspect her. “Are you okay?” Jon asked Ira. She felt sick to her stomach, but she nodded. Tim lashed out and grabbed the first aid kit. He ripped it open, cracking the white case stained with blood. He partially used his teeth as his broken arm hung limp at his side, oddly twisted. He threw the kit down. “You forgot the supplies for my arm.” He glared at Sloan. “Of course.” “It wasn’t his fault. I dropped it.” Ira said. She went over and whispered in Tim’s ear. “His father is dead.” Rick overheard. “Ha. That lunatic deserved it.” He cackled. Sloan stood up. “Don’t you tell me what my family deserves!” he barked. “Well you know what? I think we all deserve nothing less than death! We are all sinners! Especially YOU and YOUR father!” Rick ranted. He snatched the gun from Ira’s hand. Sloan growled as he stood up and threw himself at Rick. Ira grabbed Rick by the shirt and tried to pull him back. “Don’t-“ Ira’s ears rung loudly, not used to being close to gunshot. She shrank to the floor. Jonathan winced at her, but rushed to Sloan’s helpless limp body. He was dead. “He was……just a kid, Rick.” Sputtered Jonathan. “He had so much left to do in life. He wasn’t crazy. And you JUST shot him. And, why?” Jonathan’s cobalt eyes burned. “Because the Bible told you to?” He stood up, Sloan’s bloody body falling to the ground. “Are you FREAKING MENTAL?!?!” Rick and Jonathan flew at each other and wrestled, both of them as strong as each other, even though Rick was extremely thin. The gun dropped from Rick’s hand. Jonathan picked up Sloan’s axe and swung it near Rick’s face, missing him by an inch. Rick pushed him into the glass gas station window, and Jon’s muscley body crashed against it hard. With a sound like a scream, the whole glass window protecting them from whatever was outside shattered. Everything was still for a moment as a cold wind blew everyone’s hair back. Suddenly, there was a loud sound like the galloping of a thousand horses. Millions of eyes glowed in the dark surrounding the five people inside. The hobo muttered to himself in his corner and shivered. Suddenly, Ira and Tim where gone, as was the hobo. Rick ran into the staff room. “Now you’ve done it!” Jon heard him yell, “Now, we’re all screwed.” Jon’s eyes widened as the locusts got closer. He held the axe tighter. All he could do was scream as a sea of a million creatures rushed at him and trampled him to the ground. Chapter 6 Tim took Ira’s hand and ran with her into a cool room behind the counter. Literally cool room. Ira shivered as she and Tim sat behind a few boxes of ice cream. Ira heard Jon scream, but Tim held on to her hand in fear, so she didn’t move. Tim never released his death grip, but he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Jon’s in trouble!” said Ira. “And I’m freezing. Can’t we go help him?” “Who needs warmth?” muttered Tim. Ira expected him to say something like, “You warm up the whole room,” or “You’re all the comfort I need.” Instead he curled up into a ball and mumbled, “We’re all going to die, anyway.” ` Ira stayed quiet. It was just then that she realized that Tim had been shot, the same bullet that had killed Sloan puncturing his side. His breath stuttered, and his hand slowly began to loosen. It fell to the ground. If only Ira had held on tighter. That was how Tia died. Ira had let go. And now, she felt even more guilty. Ira stood up. A tear rolled down her flawless, blushing cheek. She tried to open the door. It was locked, and she could hear Jonathan struggling on the other side. She had to help her husband! Ira looked around for another door, but only found an air shaft. Opening it, she found a dead rat and a trail of ants leading to it. Ira smashed one. None of the ants cared. They didn’t crowd around it, instead they merely walked a different trail away from it. Ira didn’t want to be like those ants and completely ignore the deceased. She stood up. Tim wasn’t where Ira had left him! The door was open, and light streamed in. She ran out, double checking first that Tim wasn’t still inside the freezer. Outside of the chilling room, Ira looked around. Where was everyone? There was a puddle of blood and Jon’s jacket lying on the floor. Ira gasped. “Jonathan?!?” called Ira. She walked to the puddle of shining red blood. A light flickered and went out. “Ira….” Said a voice. Ira flipped around. There was Rick, with a gun in his hand. He put it in his belt. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to hurt you. But it’s the end of the world. Don’t you want to spend it together?” “What?” screamed Ira in a quaky voice, stepping back. Rick started to step forward. “GET AWAY FROM HER!” yelled a familiar voice. Ira turned her head and saw Jonathan, his neck bleeding again, stingers from the locust’s tails sticking out from every spot on his body. Blood dripped to the ground with every step he took. Ira whispered, “Jon? Wha-“ Rick spun around and shot at Jonathan over and over. Every time a bullet hit his dishevelled body, Jon winced but kept walking. He still gripped his axe. Rick, in a frenzy now, reloaded and shot at Jon again. In the arm, in the torso, clean head shot. Ira yelled for him to stop. Rick ceased shooting as someone pulled him to the ground and punched him in the nose. Tim stood up, his side bleeding. He took the gun from Rick’s hand and thrust it at Ira. Then he fell to the floor, and Ira saw that his back was cut clean down the middle. “Just kill me!” Tim begged. Ira screamed. “Strop, you’re scaring her!” demanded Jonathan. He took the gun from Ira and shot Tim in the head. Tim rolled around on the floor, painting it red. “Augh! You can’t even shoot a person right, you sorry bastard!” Rick got up and tried to pry the gun away from Jon, accidentally pulling the trigger and shooting himself in the stomach. He keeled over. Jon grabbed the shaking Ira and looked into her eyes. “Leave!” he said. “Run!” he pushed her towards the door. Ira stumbled out and ran. She bolted up the steps of the first house she saw. The lights where on, but no matter how much she yelled, nobody would open up for her. She looked in the window. Two small bodies lay crumpled on the ground. Ira ran back to the gas station. Nobody was there to greet her. The whole floor was blanketed in red. Ira scooted behind the counter and grabbed a key off the floor next to the stiff body of Cherri. Ira then ran to the supply closet to try to find an extra axe. She opened it up and screamed. There was the hobo, sitting there, looking up at her. “SOCKS!” he shouted. Ira pondered her situation. She didn’t want a hobo in the car. But she couldn’t just leave him here. She picked him up by his jacket and dragged him to the pink little Buggy in front of the station. She pushed him in there and then entered herself, scooting over to the driver’s side. She put the key in the slot and revved the engine. She turned her head to see out the back window before backing out. Facing forward again, Ira gasped. Tim stood in front of the car, banging on the hood, barely recognizable with gore dripping down his face. Ira drove forward suddenly, running him over, and then sped away. She panted as she drove down the dark road, passing the pharmacy, passing Jon’s smashed up car. She didn’t let herself cry. The same fog that had enveloped her and Jon when they had crashed blocked her view of the world. “Boop.” Said the hobo. Ira shook her head and kept her eyes on the road. “Boop.” It was getting a bit annoying…….. “Boop.” Ira turned her head to face the hobo. He was holding a pink cell phone, his eyes wide with curiosity. The blue backlight shone on his face. He pressed a button. “Boop.” Ira snatched the phone and pulled over. She practically fell out the Buggy’s door, clutching the cell phone in her clammy hand. She shook, making it hard to dial. “9…..1…..1….” Ira spoke softly to herself. She put the phone to her ear. Nobody picked up. How was that possible? Ira spoke into the phone, speaking to an imaginary person. “Hello…..I’m here and I desperately need help…..” she whispered. She looked into the black sky with the shining moon in the corner. It was almost red, maybe reflecting something? Suddenly, the moon disappeared and all was dark. A black creature had flown in front of it. More gathered around it, blacking out the stars. The noise the locusts created was tremendous. “Oh…..” mumbled Ira. She had never been very religious. It got darker and darker, the noise got louder and louder. “God, please help?” whimpered Ira. It wasn’t much of a prayer. For her, it was enough. Soon she couldn’t see anything, blackness and the roar of a million chariots enclosing her. You can only look for Him in the dark.
	At Wendy's one day... My bud to cashier: Hey can I have some ranch? (dude hands her some ranch packets) Me-OH THANK YOU ALMIGHTY RANCH GIVER! My mother to my bro-You need to find a nice girl and settle down. An Italian girl! And no Sicilians! If I find out you’re marrying a Sicilian I’ll beat you to death with my slippers! VOT FOUR CHEESAY, SHEES GUD AT SPELING!


Luemas	15 Oct 2009, 03:35 PM Post #2
All ur Walrus R belong to Me Posts: 4,060 Group: Members Member #189 Joined: 14 January 2009	Well... aside from the taking of Vorago, yes it isn't plagiarism, but it's not overly original. It's got a good start, but It was driving me mental the similarities. I'm just like that.
	YOU MADE ME


cheesebug	15 Oct 2009, 05:04 PM Post #3
Ultimate Threadkiller Posts: 1,865 Group: Members Member #295 Joined: 3 July 2009	its not original? excuse me? who are YOU to say? im twelve years ol;d thats one of the longest thingsive ever written and it has a really good plot that other than the begggining and two or three characters has nothing to do with vorago! in fact, the whole story and ending is different!!!! sheesh if you dont have anything nice to say dont say it! gosh thanks for ruining my spirit....if you think you can do better just TRY i want to see you do it. doubt you can though, ive read your work. i can barely get through the first sentence. all my friends LOVE it and want copies and they dont think its even close to vorago!
	At Wendy's one day... My bud to cashier: Hey can I have some ranch? (dude hands her some ranch packets) Me-OH THANK YOU ALMIGHTY RANCH GIVER! My mother to my bro-You need to find a nice girl and settle down. An Italian girl! And no Sicilians! If I find out you’re marrying a Sicilian I’ll beat you to death with my slippers! VOT FOUR CHEESAY, SHEES GUD AT SPELING!


Luemas	15 Oct 2009, 08:01 PM Post #4
All ur Walrus R belong to Me Posts: 4,060 Group: Members Member #189 Joined: 14 January 2009	Sheez, I was trying to have Constructive criticism. I just meant there were some parts that veered to close to the game, and felt like I was reading something for the five hundredth time. I've played the game alot. One can see similarities when he's played the game alot, and I could just see them sometimes. Besides, whats wrong with my work? I'm curious. Your work is good, it could just use fine tuning. Like all work, the first draft is no good. This is a matter of fact, regardless of the author. I am sorry I offended you.
	YOU MADE ME


cheesebug	16 Oct 2009, 08:15 AM Post #5
Ultimate Threadkiller Posts: 1,865 Group: Members Member #295 Joined: 3 July 2009	that....wasnt....the rough draft. smart, lue. maybe i should just stop writing the 5 months series altogether. and theres nothing wrong with your work. it just bores me a little. its good, though. you didnt deserve that. well, actually, you kindof did, i dont even know you and you crushed all my inspiration. maybe i wont post anything else from the series on here......
	At Wendy's one day... My bud to cashier: Hey can I have some ranch? (dude hands her some ranch packets) Me-OH THANK YOU ALMIGHTY RANCH GIVER! My mother to my bro-You need to find a nice girl and settle down. An Italian girl! And no Sicilians! If I find out you’re marrying a Sicilian I’ll beat you to death with my slippers! VOT FOUR CHEESAY, SHEES GUD AT SPELING!


Luemas	16 Oct 2009, 03:01 PM Post #6
All ur Walrus R belong to Me Posts: 4,060 Group: Members Member #189 Joined: 14 January 2009	No, it's not that it's bad, especially since from here on it, theres nothing to take from. It would be entirely your own work. And don't worry, my work kinda bores me too, I just need to either get around to writing it or somehow make it shorter, but still decent.
	YOU MADE ME


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