The Narrator's gone on hiatus, again.
I feel like we are standing frozen in place each time that old bastard decides to take a break and go play with Frank or Dixon or the Spartan or whoever else he's got going on the side and ignore me!
you bastard!
you bastard!
you bastard!
"Who are you yelling at?" Ismie asks.
"Nobody... what gives you that idea?"
"Well you are screaming at that book and hammering it on the desk at the same time."
She's right, we are in the middle of a jailbreak and I lose it.
Still, am I the only one that knows we've been standing here about to go free my friends for a month while that bastard picks his nose and plays with his other books?
I like milk, sipped slowly from a saucer- and to be scratched behind my ears by Ismie's long fingernails. I curl into her lap and purr to my heart's content. This is the perfect life for a kitten.
No, wait- he didn't- he wouldn't! HE DID!
Ismie looks down at me in curled up in her perfect lap.
"Have you learned your lesson yet?'
Maybe.
"What have you learned?" Ismie asks.
Don't call the writer/narrator a bastard.
"Whose story are we trapped in?" Duke Ivan says (a frozen wail on his unhappy face)
"I dunno my lord, but he's one temperamental wizard to be sure." Rupert says still stuck in mid jump in the air. "Been like this for a month and I really need to pee-"
Fine!
I am sorry I called you a bastard.
I look around hopefully.
Something worked because I am standing next to Ismie who brushes cat fur off her skirt.
I feel like we are standing frozen in place each time that old bastard decides to take a break and go play with Frank or Dixon or the Spartan or whoever else he's got going on the side and ignore me!
you bastard!
you bastard!
you bastard!
"Who are you yelling at?" Ismie asks.
"Nobody... what gives you that idea?"
"Well you are screaming at that book and hammering it on the desk at the same time."
She's right, we are in the middle of a jailbreak and I lose it.
Still, am I the only one that knows we've been standing here about to go free my friends for a month while that bastard picks his nose and plays with his other books?
I like milk, sipped slowly from a saucer- and to be scratched behind my ears by Ismie's long fingernails. I curl into her lap and purr to my heart's content. This is the perfect life for a kitten.
No, wait- he didn't- he wouldn't! HE DID!
Ismie looks down at me in curled up in her perfect lap.
"Have you learned your lesson yet?'
Maybe.
"What have you learned?" Ismie asks.
Don't call the writer/narrator a bastard.
"Whose story are we trapped in?" Duke Ivan says (a frozen wail on his unhappy face)
"I dunno my lord, but he's one temperamental wizard to be sure." Rupert says still stuck in mid jump in the air. "Been like this for a month and I really need to pee-"
Fine!
I am sorry I called you a bastard.
I look around hopefully.
Something worked because I am standing next to Ismie who brushes cat fur off her skirt.
