Once upon a time... All good stories begin with "once upon a time."

Once upon a time, there was a girl. This girl had a lot of friends. She liked to have her friends around. They were always there for her, even when she was really in a bad mood. The girl appreciated everything that her friends did to show her they loved her. Not any weird kind of love, but an honest-to-goodness, I-like-spending-time-with-you, you're-worth-it kind of love.

Sometimes (especially when the girl was in a bad mood), the girl wasn't quite so grateful. Sometimes, when the girl was in a particularly bad mood, it didn't seem like her friends loved her at all. But the good thing was that she knew that she was just in a particularly bad mood and she would feel better by the end of the week.

... THEN SUDDENLY!!!!

Eric showed up wearing a new haircut and brandishing a plastic mouse.
"Help me!" the girl cried, lunging for the $50 that stuck out of his pocket.
"I'll save you!" came the reply from a valiant Crimson King who had just torched the surrounding countryside.
"Who are you!?" Eric and the girl asked in unison, pausing their scuffle mid-'ouch.'
"Some people call me... Tim..?" he answered attempting to look mystical and only succeeding in looking rather weird.
In the baffled silence that ensued, Robin was heard whispering sweet nothings to her knight with the shining arm... er... Armor. Knight in shining armor. The girl and Eric lunged for the nearest precipice, causing Strawberries&cream to call out, "Don't do it! Boyfriends and girlfriends* can be silenced! You can plug your ears! Just don't hurl yourselves over the cliff!"
Eric and the girl landed on their stomachs with their faces over the cliff. ...The hurling sound effect followed.
"That's not what I meant, but at least they're both alive," Strawberries remarked with a shrug.

Meanwhile, David was still playing with his holocaust cloak which was rapidly being consumed by the last tongues of flame that devoured the few blades of grass than only happened to be directly beneath David's feet.
Rochwen tried desperately to keep up on on piano. The girl had assigned her to be the soundtrack for the story. Finally, she threw the sheets of music on the ground in frustration and stormed over to the girl, who had stopped hurling and now sat glaring at Robin and Knightly* sitting on the couch, STILL whispering sweet nothings to each other. As the girl sat glumly looking rather sick, Rochwen stormed over to her friend and shook a finger in her face.

"Look here, Mirelena!" she growled, "You know I would do anything for you. That's why I took this job. But if I have to play 'Twinkle, twinkle, Little Star' just ONE more time!!!!! so help me I'm going to sic Duathmin on you!"
The girl recoiled and slipped over the edge of the embankment and into the shallow stream that bubbled along behind her.

The Tall One quickly stepped out of the thick foliage that covered the landscape and held out a towel to the sopping wet girl who sat, glaring at her EX-best friend, and accepted the proffered towel from the Tall One.
Thinking quickly, five minutes later, the girl, who now was dry and holding a sopping wet towel, said to Rochwen, "Maybe you can play some of the pieces you already know!"

"NOOOO!" screamed a little bald, skinny guy with in a loincloth. All three girls were shocked to see him and averted their eyes. "It's mine!" he insisted, "My own! My precious!" and he made a beeline for Rochwen's new piano.
"No, it most certainly is NOT!" she said, her voice ringing with authority. "It's mine now. I took it as my own! If you don't go away, I'll throw you into the stream and you'll melt like the wicked gremlin you are!"
"NOOOO!" the girl cried, "You NEVER get a gremlin wet!"
"Then I guess it's a good thing I'm not a gremlin," came the reply from the creepy little man in the loincloth that the girls tried to avoid looking at.
"Fine," Rochwen clipped, "but you STILL can't have my precious!" and with that, she started to stroke her piano.

The girl jumped as a tinny song was heard and her purse began to vibrate. "It's too early for this!" she muttered as she groped around to find the source of the noise. Once the alarm on her cell phone had been turned off, she realized that it hadn't been an alarm, but a ringer! Someone was actually calling the girl!
In astonishment and surprise, the girl clutched and held her cell phone communicator, fumbling to open it. Just as she hit the 'talk' button, the person hung up and the girl grumbled....

With that, the girl ran out of creative juices and reminded people to call her more often so that she would actually recognize when she's being called as opposed to being wakened by her alarm.

...And they lived insanely ever after.


*as loosely translated from the confusion of Insanity

Labels: creative writing, Friends