Leroy Johnson was born in Detroit 2050 to a member of the mob known as Gunny Johnson whose first name was Gary, but names like that just don't fly with the mob. his mother died when he was two; when a deal of high-tech contraband weaponry went horribly wrong (obviously making her name unneeded). Gunny, a coward by nature, hid behind his wife who turned just perfectly for Leroy to be unharmed, and she took the main initial blast which glassed her entire back and reflected the blast into the malfunctioning laser beam, stopping it altogether. Leroy first began to smell at this moment. He also immediately lost his sense of smell as the stench of burnt human skin and disintegrating steel and iron.

Only one good thing came from this loss, a greatly attuned sense of hearing. His father ran and hid, leaving his son to cry and later be found by a Detroit policeman who fostered him until, at five years of age, Gunny found him and claimed him. No questions were asked, mainly because Gunny was an arms dealer with the best guns around, and was always armed. Leroy was then raised by Gunny and his new wife, Leah Serene, a mob hairdresser. He then had a step brother who had a severe case of ADD, which was now rare. Leroy hated Roy. A lot. At the age of ten he decided to try to teach Roy, 7, to swim, and drowned him using a pool styro-tube. no one found out except the pool boy, who wasn't about to rat out the mob's Arms Dealer's son.

Gunny, rather annoyed at everyone dying around him, decided to commit a murder-suicide pact with his wife. Completely ignoring Leroy's existence, and without telling Leah, he gunned her down and then disintegrated himself. In his will he left everything to Roy in delirium. Because lawyers all know they're going to Hell, they gave the pool boy all Gunny's belongings, instead. Leroy then disappears for several years.

I assume your trying to make this into a fanfic, correct? If that is the case then here is what I would do.

Don't list off the background like this is some kind of RP, unless you were truly trying to make this for some kind of RP. When you just open up listing off his life like this, it can be quite a turnoff. Instead, start the story, then reveal the background piece by piece, so were not bogged down by all this info hitting us at once.

Also, watch out for your grammar mistakes, there was quite a few of them. Slowing down, re reading, and downloading some kind of writing software can help. Also, your story itself was quite confusing and even re reading can't help me in some parts. So try to make it clearer, re read it yourself and see if you can clearly see what's going. I'm still lost on how he has such good hearing.

A side note...I hate it when people write number like 7 instead of seven. But this is just me speaking...

Anyway, work on those things and I'm sure you'll do fine...

...Keep Writing. :thumbsup:

Ytt, it must really annoying how you have to explain you're peev to every new forumer.

good story so far, although it could use a touch-up on certain sections, for example:



I understood 'annoyed' was an understatement (and good job if wit is what you were going for), but up to that point of the story, I have no idea who all is dying around him, and suggest you make that more clear or delete that altogether. Yes his wife did die when Leroy was 2, but after that, who else? Who is Leah? If she's the bartender, than you should say her name in the first sentence shes introduced. Also, howd he make a pact with her if he didn;t tell her? Little things like this you need to watch out for...

Installments as short as this is effortless to reread, so don't be afraid to do so.

I agree with Yttrium, as I so often do.

It's a good post, minus some grammar problems, if intended as part of a RP (that is a story wherein different writers control different character)

If this is to be a fan-fiction might I suggest you rewrite that entry in the first person?

So it could be more like




A Ghoul's Life in the Wasteland

"My name is Leroy Johnson. I was born in Detroit in the year 2050. My father was a hired gun for the mob. His name was Gary Johnson, but names like that just don't fly with the mob so he went by Gunny.

.................................................

My father had had enough. In (whatever year) he gunned my mother down and turned the weapon on himself. The bastard left everything to the pool boy. It was the last straw, I disappeared for years afterward."




You could then continue in First Person if you like writing in that style, or switch to a more narrative style. You could start back up with.



"He sits in a dive bar somewhere in the reconstituted state of (whatever). Several shots of Johnny Walker Red have removed those hard times from his thoughts. The door to the bar opens and he turns to see who has come in. It was the woman who would change his life forever."




Keep it up though. Those are just vague suggestions. I personally really like stories involving ghouls, I think they would have an interesting perspective on life, so I'm really looking forward to seeing you flesh your story out.

Never knew that. You ever look at my fanfic WNMarcus?

and now this semi-rude-seeming post is gone. I was having a rather bad day. I like criticism, but repetition is always bad.

Waking Up To The Storm
from Leroy's point of view

As i set my two aces and two kings down on the table made of porcelain, A bright flash entered the window to my right, which I initially ignored. Everyone else went to the window to see what was going on, since it was eleven PM at night, and light wasn't very common here in Detroit, due to the high crime rate. Almost all the lights along almost all the roads were either cit down for scrap metal or broken in vandalism. I stole an Ace out of the guy to my left's hand and replaced it with the three in mine. I was now looking at a Full House and another three hundred dollars to put into reviving my arms trade business. The first thing to hit the guys at the window was the smell of liquefying buildings and millions of burning people. I could hear it long before the closest skyscraqer was toppling into our building. The elevator cables screeching and cutting through the center of the skyscraqer pierced my ears like a frag going off behind glass.

I was safely behind the porcelain table as the needle top skyscraqer collided into the fourth story building we were in, the guys I was dealing with were too stunned to move out of the way, and they all died instantly upon contact. blood sprayed everywhere. I quickly blacked out from the concussion I received from a porcelain shard cutting two inches across the top of my head...

I woke beneath a table surrounded in rubble with blood covering me, a silenced pistol in hand, a ridiculously painful headache, and....

I woke again with only memory of the past time I had awoke, and memories of killing a kid named Roy with a severe case of ADD who was so annoying...A distant very loud man crashed his train of thought into a deep chasm: "Anybody else alive in here?" I decided I'd take my chances, anyway the pistol felt comforting in this hot world I was in. "I am!" I yelled, and realizing how feminine I sounded due to thirst and a dry throat, changed my tone to "Who wants to know?!"
A few halting footsteps of someone slipping on rubble came from behind me, and i heard a short, painful groan. "God da.." leaded into a fit of coughing, turning into "help if you're not also in need of help, please good sir!" from the person presumably trying to find survivors.

Trying to get up kinda svcked, so I yelled "How do I know whether or not to trust you?" He responded "Other than the fact that I'm unarmed and bleeding out?" Me: "Oh" I waited two moments, focused on standing, and when i finally did, I also finally got a good look at my surroundings. The world was flat. All I could see was fire, glass, smoke, and bodies. When I turned to look where the groan came from, I found a pistol handle roughly hitting my face, and...splat. Unconscious again...

This is actually an oxymoron. I see what you're trying to say is something like:

and light wasn't very common here in Detroit, thanks to the crimes aruond here.

or

light is seen often here in Detroit, due to the high crime rate there are always searchlights of some form in the area.



Smell doesn't travel very quickly, unless the flash wasn't the first of the night or maybe the building holding millions of people was 2 feet from them.




Small grammar error, you had from twice in the same sentence, that can be rephrased to:

I quickly blacked out from the concussive blast of a porcelain shard cutting two inches across the top of my head...

Also break the dialog up into paragraphs so the last paragraph would look like:



Trying to get up kinda svcked, so I yelled "How do I know wheter or not to trust you?"

He responded "other than the fact that I'm unarmed and bleeding out?"

Me: "Oh"

I waited two moments, focusing on standing, and when i finnaly did, I finally got a good look at my surroundings. The world was flat. All I could see was fire, glass, smoke, and bodies. I tuned to look where the groan came from, and I turned to find a pistol handle roughly hitting my face, and...splat. Unconscious again..



Lastly, if apocolyptia had just happened, people wouldn't sound as...calm. It would be more alert and panicked.

NOTE: Feeling upset about your day doesn't give you the right to act or seem standoffish to anyone else, so keep that in mind when you write. Take it from me, no one here wants to get snapped on. Good job so far.

just clarifying--
1. The smell of steel liquifying travels very fast, I know having expierienced it; the sound of a nuclear blast turns into a shrill ringing for the people within 3 miles of it, but only after you would smell anything burned by it, because your brain senses the smell easier than the sound, because of the intensity of the frequency of the sound.
2. He recieved a concussion [medical term] from the porcelain cutting open his head. There was no concussive blast of porcelain.
3. Leroy just lost memory from radiation, and he had no idea what just happened- he is VERY confused as he should be.
----I did my research before typing any of this---

Chapter 2 -and yes there are suddenly chapters- Swimming through land

I awoke to the sound of a steel saw at work, dusty air, and a calmness for the world to have just ended. Aaand I was strapped to a table with an empty sedative IV in my arm. Five minutes later, I was counting to keep my sanity, a man in doctor's scrubs splattered with blood walked up to me and calmly asked "How are you today?"
I responded with a slur due to the sedative having not entirely worn off. "I hab a headache, bub oberwise I do beweve I'm fine"
The doctor wiped some saliva off my numb cheek, and said "Do you know what happened?"
"No" The sedative began to give my feeling and motor controls back.
"Bombs fell on everything. We have no idea who started it but now it's all over."
"So how am I alive, and you?" I started to look around. I recognized the guy in a black suit, but couldn't place his name.
"Just random, possibly lucky survivors if you believe in that sort of thing"
I wasn't really paying attention, since the steel saw was off, covered in blood, and there was a corpse beneath it i was thinking I need to escape.. "believe in what?"
"luck" he said and proceeded to replace my empty IV with a full dose of sedative. And out I went.

I groggily awoke to an annoying school-bell-like noise, which turned out to be an alarm. The straps and the IV were gone, so i guess I owe someone my life, because the building was on fire, and coming down fast! I quickly got up, and immediately fell back down onto a badly burned doctor. I slipped on the gore as I got back up, and discovered to my dismay I wasn't wearing any pants, and was in a pink patient scrub.
Luckily, I found my pants and shirt on a nearby table marked "loot". I also found my pistol, which I shoved into a holster which I connected to my pants using a leather belt, an assault rifle and ammo, and a bag of miscellaneous items. I ran through the room toward one of those red lit-up exit signs, opened the door, and behind it was a brick wall with "moron" painted on it in gang-graffiti-style. since the building behind me was kinda collapsing, I started to wildly beat at the brick wall.
As the bricks started to loosen, a tank rolled through the wall next to the door, and a burly man with a bandanna wrapped around his forehead began firing a gatling laser randomly through the smoke while yelling stupid references to ancient movies. I ran through the hole the tank had made, unnoticed by the crazed gunman.
I kept running in a straight line, for about six hundred feet, and fell forward onto some convenient, comfortable-looking rubble. Then as i looked back toward the burning building, it exploded in an awkward fashion, arcing over toward me.

Alrighty, I like the fact that you can comeback with good facts, and appreciate the time you took to research these things because it shows your dilegence, but my discrepancy is with your translation to the story.

1) I know steel liquifying travels fast, I think faster than burning rubber, but it all depends on how you write it in the story. As it reads, it seems as if as soon as the bomb hits the smell is already at whatever building you were in, instead of it taking a few sounds. I'd just make that clearer.

2) Thanks but I know concussion is a medical term, and my sentence was a enough example that I thought of at the top of my head so you could get a just of what I meant. When I said concussive blast I meant a blast strong enough to cause a concussion. And that must've been a hefty glass of porcelain in order to knock him out.

3) You should make it apparent tat he lost his memory, that way the reader won't be left too in the dark, seeing as that is an important part of any story. Maybe you did put it in there, but I just didn't see it. And also confusion should make him even more scared, instead of the collected Leroy that I'm reading.

Just read your chapter, mand it was great, only space out the paragraphs to make it an easier read. I like the Borderlandsey, wicked humor it has to it, and don't be afraid to give us more. If you look at other fanfic's yo'll see we usually write alot/installment. Either way, im reading.

Thanks a lot. I'll space it out more, about length, I'm usually forced to get off the internet early or just run out of my 'creative brain juices' for a while. Also- I've noticed you read and commented on The Anomaly of Regahn, and Galen, the author; he's my friend in real life, so I get some inspiration toward gruesome/wickedness from him. More to come!

CHAPTER 3 Red Dawn
Most of it fell in front of me. A couple pieces fell around me. And the world once again went dark. But this time it was actually dark, not unconsciousness. I scrambled around, trying to find a way to get out easily, when I heard a scratching noise outside. I figured it was some animal, until a distant voice yelled “Where are you?” This time I wasn’t to be fooled. I sat down roughly and suddenly from behind me a glow appeared. I turned around, but the glow was again behind me.

I then remembered my backpack. I took it off, and set it on the ground. I cautiously opened it, and found a plasma pistol inside; its micro fusion cells were
glowing as if about to…my train of thought derailed as I panicked and threw the pistol against the opposite corner of the office cubicle I seemed to be trapped in, and hid behind my backpack in the opposite corner of the pistol. The resulting blast threw a lot of rubble, and allowed me to escape unscathed into the dawn air.

My backpack was a little worse for wear, but not too destroyed. I decided to look through it for other useful or dangerous items. A jelly sandwich in a Ziploc baggie designated for ‘Joe’, some Luzianne tea bags, some coffee grounds, four medium throwing knives which looked rather familiar, and a bottle of water. A calendar pinned to a cubicle wall told him it was 2077, August 20th. It has been two days since then, making it my birthday. I chose to celebrate by eating Joe’s sandwich. Bastard probably deserved it, working for a law firm.

As I finished the sandwich, I heard a groan. I looked over to see a guy with half his body pinned by some of the rubble I just blew off of me. Hmm…what to do? I walked over, bent down, and asked him his name.
“Joe” He said, gasping for air.
I followed with “Who did you work for?”
“The Carmen Law Corpor -coughing- corporation.”
“Well looks like you’re going to Hell then, buddy!” I muttered as I looted his shirt pocket of paperclips. “God I hate lawyers.”
“You bastard, you can’t leave me to die like this!”
“I kinda just did, and by the way, I ate your sandwich.”
His raging screams tore through the air faintly as I made headway towards the south to find a warmer place, snow was falling. The clouds were so thick that I barely noticed the sun rise reddening the clouds. Thunder roared its way through the snow clouds, which was rather new for me. Thunder-snow? Well I guess anything’s possible now…

I saw a group of people running in my direction off the horizon, through the light snowfall. As they got closer I counted five, four of them running in an awkward loping fashion, the fifth running normally, but bleeding from the shoulder. I readied my AR, all sixteen bullets raring to tear flesh. The bleeder yelled “I’m not your target!” and trustfully dove into a pile of snow. The rest of them looked almost like zombies, and began trying to drag the poor bastard by his legs out of the pile.
Not having noticed me, I shot two down, with several bullets whizzing past the other two’s heads. They looked up, and before they realized a threat, I put three bullets into each one’s chest, putting them both down for good. I dragged the person out of the snow, as she tried beating me off, probably thinking I was a zombie. I backed off for a second, letting her recalculate her situation. She looked up at me in wonder, and then asked “Why did you help me?”
“Why not, you don’t look like a lawyer”
“What if I was?”
“I would find a way to revive the zombie-.”
“They’re Ghouls!”
“What?”
“Ghouls, people who’ve been in contact with an ungodly amount of radiation and didn’t have the luck to die.”
“Well. svcks to be them”
“Where are you headed?”
“Somewhere warm…South.”
“Smart, but you would need to go East also, near the coast, other wise it’s just colder due to the nuclear winter”
“How do you know all the [censored]? You look like a fifteen year old girl!”
“Twenty-two, thank you very much, and I’m a nurse, or at least I was studying to be one…”
“Then what happened?”
“The...Bombs...Fell…”
That’s when it finally hit me. The whole damn shebang. I immediately remembered the poker game, and that I was trying to revive my Arms dealing business, but that’s it.. Nothing else except killing Roy. The flash of light…The smell of burning…Everything. The world was gone and I was alive, along with maybe a ninth of the population…
“Sorry, I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I have a radio if ya need to catch up. Sorry if’n’ my accent comes up ev’ry now n’ then, but I’m from Alabama.”
“Umm, no thanks, I’d rather not hear about the world in ashes right now.”
“Mmk. Whatever works for you, but either way I’m coming with you!”
“Wait, what?”
“Continue walking, I’ll just be following you.”
“Umm..yet again, no thanks.”
“But I can help and I need someone to protect me and I need to get to D.C. and please please please please PLE-!!!”
“Shut up and we have a deal.”
“Yay! We’re going to be-”
“Never mind, shut up or I drown you with a styro-tube for a pool!”
“Wha?”
“Shup!”
“Eep..”

Chapter 4 And I thought MY day svcked...
We kept walking south, the girl was a friggin’ boyscout, somehow. She had a map, compass, and a bunch of medical supplies gathered up in that purse of hers. It was grey now, but looked to have been made of leather, with a gold clip to keep it closed. Someone must’ve really cared about her…
This time I started the conversation: “What’s your name?”
“Wha...who, me?”
“No one else to talk to, you never told me your name.”
“It doesn’t really matter, now, does it? I mean nothing but survival matters now.”
“Being remembered matters, being known, truste-”
“It’s Sarah. Sarah Moraine.”
Moraine hit me. I recognized Moraine. I don’t know why, but Sarah looked away now and didn’t seem to want to talk. I honored it, for now.

We walked on until we came to a white sign, the paint peeling of the letters themselves, which were of lead-based paint. It read “Welcome to Ill~nois” with an E painted at the end. [~ = words/letters scratched out]
“Ill Noise, eh?”
“Now it is…” Her voice trailed off as bloodcurdling screams pierced the air…And twenty men came from a dead-looking bunker, all dressed in makeshift leather armor, wielding a strange assortment of weapons. Purposefully they turned from us, and looked toward an area of still-standing buildings. One young-looking boy came toward us.
“My name’s Larry- that’s the most I’m trusting y’all to help us, you look better armed and we’re in trouble ammo-wise.”
I got closer to the frail thing “Why would we help you?”
“Because we OWN the metro, which is the safest way to wherever you’re headed.”
Sarah piped up “How do we know you’re not gonna’ just kill us after?”
“Because we’re a cleanup unit from the Enclave.”
Me: rather confused: “Enclave?”
“We’re what’s left of the U.S. Army. We haven’t had our power armor sufficiently sent out to us- it’s on a vertibird brought down by a large hostile force of raiders who have gained the ghouls as allies”
“Ya lost me at raiders- please explain”
“Shut up; put your sights on target.” He said and began to take position behind a convenient burnt-out car. I took point in front of him, and looked over the edge, then handed my pistol to Sarah, who sat next to me looking dumb. “They’re coming!” The kid yelled, and then I saw the enemy. About thirty people in wicked-looking armor making them look bigger than life. Armed, rifles, no way to tell how much ammo they have. Some with wicked looking spears, others with Rippers…

Four of our ranks ran out and charged –no one’s telling us the plan! - and were each ripped apart by laser rifles. A test. Someone to the right of us fired a single bullet from a sniper rifle; it ricocheted off his chest plate into his helmet, dispatching one of the bastards. “Flamer!” a guy yelled, and then he ran from his cover, and was shot down. The sniper looked hopeful. He mouthed “Last two” to the guy behind cover to his left, who had a commander’s hat on. He fired a bullet perfectly into the flamer-wielding raider’s napalm canister. He exploded, causing about five losses on their’ part, and sixth guy was on fire, but ignored it. Shrapnel from the explosion killed a guy near him, who was on our side, trying to ambush them. His yell got his two helpers mercilessly killed by the next one nearest them, who fired most of a cell into the guys.

The raider group was past us, and none of us got noticed. Larry whispered “now” I got up, and creep-ran toward the last guy, put my AR an inch or so from his back near a patch of over-heated armor. I fired, and as I did, I shoved my rifle into the guy’s back and waited for the Ringing to stop, meaning bullets were flying through the guys’ armor. When that happened, I pivoted the rifle back and forth, alternating which second I pulled the trigger, hoping to increase my accuracy and waste as few bullets as possible. My rifle jammed at 15 rounds, and I quickly leaned the guy’s body against mine, checked my gun, and a piece of his spine had fell into the chamber.

I tried to fire to dislodge it, but the piece allowed no air pressure to build up. I threw the gun in disgust, and it went off, the bullet hit a guy in the back of the left shin, crippling him, and the bone hit his shoulder, causing the pain to at least knock him out. I dragged the rifle with my foot, and looked at the laser rifle my cover was holding. I grabbed it, leaned down and grabbed my 10 bullet AR, threw the body away and hoped for the best.

No one was standing in front of me. One guy was running away, seeming to have ditched the armor. I decided to let him live, as did everyone else. There were spears in armor; we took another six casualties, two of them my blind firing. Eight guys, and Sarah trembling next to the car, were looking at me.
“Nice job.”, “Smart move”, and “What the hell happened” came from the guys there. We all started looting, I grabbed a bunch of AR ammo, and loaded it into clips, next body I grabbed a frag, and a plasma grenade, but passed it to the guy looting the corpse to my left, plasma weapons are too unstable. I got up and looked around, and said “Where to?”
Sarah came closely behind me; the men were giving her dangerous looks.

About third chapter:



Seems like you kinda jumped outta first person there.

That convo between Joe and Leroy was quite cliche, which I don't know if you're going for, but don't be afraid to add your own pizzazz to your stuff yaknow.



'rearing' is better, also ready would be better than both.



like the direct import.



I think you see why this can be confusing.



Brilliant stuff, I think I know who she is as well. Good write and I'll do the next chapter after my own fanfic hopefully.

Thanks, Ant. I guess I slipped the him instead of me, and the cliché' was on purpose. The reference back to the bomb going off during the poker game was supposed to be confusing. I've been reading yours, and it's really great. I'm working on the next installment tomorrow,or tonight, maybe :user: right now I'm in The Pitt blasting raiders with the Tesla Cannon :gun:

Aww man I was too scared to get all 100 ingots. Every time I look at my achievements I look at that with shame. :sadvaultboy:

You've been reading mines?! Which one Reign and Resistance or Wastelander Named Marcus. If you chose the first one, you should pisit my profile and check out the latter.



Love it.



Love it.





roadie ran.



I see why you are trying to achieve, and you mist continue to stay below absurdity. This can't happen in real life. Also, making that whole section easier to read would help. I do understand how hard writing action can get, and that's why I don't really care too much. The whole section is just hard to put together in one's head. I would offer a paragraph in reiteration to what you were trying to say, but I'm too tired for that.



How could a bone that could fit in a chamber knock him out from a shoulder hit. Better question, how wasn't he already dead? Things brings me to a problem that needs to be addressed immediately, and is so important its the first thread on the forums. That is...NO UBER CHARACTERS. now your char isn't uber yet but he is brimming the ceiling here. That last stunt was the borderline. Any further and he is now an uber. Don't be afraid to make him human and allow him to get seriously f*cked up every once in a while. That's all.

WNMarcus, I should read the latter also, and about the bone- least was meant to be last. At last knocked him out. The bullet in his leg and bone-shrapnel in his shoulder- the pain knocked him out. And I tryied to not make him uber- just the situation and luck of that saved him. plus the bit of ingenuity- putting the gun in the guys' back so he wasn't really seen or in the way of fire. but blech- i need to get back to writing the actual story...
I'm going for all 100 ingots, mainly because I'm not frightened by the Trogs because my Auto Axe + repair skill of 100 and pickpocketing more axes off of slaves....

Yeah I'm a real nut.

If you read my current fanfic, leave a comment saying what you wanted me to correct do do otherwise, because I don't get comments anymore really, and especially not corrections.

Looks like Ant has things covered well. I'll just add a few quick things...

1.) I could care less if your character is an übermensch. And Ant, that's generally for RP's. You could make an über Character, have him jump twenty feet into the air, do a back flip, and kill fifty soldiers with his two pistols(that he never has to reload) before he hits the ground. As long it's written clearly, catches my intention, and draws me into the story. Though don't expect to be taken seriously if you go that route.

2.) Lengthy dialogue. I noted this in chapter three, you had a very long sequence of dialogue. Now, that's okay, but how you did it was not okay. He just had it like a list, no breaks in it. It kills me...on the inside. I can't remember having read a book with such a lengthy dialogue, but with no breaks. Example:



Could be:

“Why not, you don’t look like a lawyer,” I asked, bemused.

“What if I was?"

“I would find a way to revive the zombie-.”

She stomped her foot on the ground, causing me to stop mid sentence.

“They’re Ghouls!” She yelled at me, nostrils flaring.

Something like that, it's late and I'm tired, you could probably do better. It gives more of a visual, and helps lessen confusion, cause frankly, I got lost reading that lengthy conversation.

3.) Nothing much else to add...'cept watch those numbers. I think I saw a 15 instead of a fifteen, but I was probably seeing things.

Anyway, keep this up. It's pretty good. Remember were just giving out advice, take or leave it, but...

...Keep Writing. :thumbsup:

Honestly, I can't find much at all other than small mistakes, otherwise i love your writing. You do seem to have "that voice."
I spent most of my day reading all your stuff, when my computer wasn't malfunctioning, of course :brokencomputer:

I'll take most advice y'all give- the numbers slipped- I was called to go do some work, I typed the number real fast so i would remember it, and forgot to change it. -I'm trying to keep everyting straight and not accidently lie, b/c of my own peeves-
And I know I've seen three pages of straight dialouge with nothing else in it, but I don't remember what it was called at the moment.

A play!?

No, but seriously I would love to know. Need to know. Cause I haven't seen a story so far that does that, and if it did, I'd probably stay away from it. I mean it seems boring to me, but eh...I'm unique, I'm not sure how everyone else feels on the matter.

You would probably have an allergic reaction to it if you got near it.... but seriously- i'll ask my library-of-a-friend if she can remember the title. Or I'll look it up. But I'll find it for you, so you can look disgustedly at it. :angry:
good night for now, 'cause I've got a morning of school-related stuff to do...bleh