#leprechaunprofessor

[saladgloveofficial]

To everyone who tagged me (Jo, Plug, Apple, Alex, the-last-fairie):

THANK YOU SO, SO MUCH.

I LOVE YOU GUYS.

I'm not ignoring them or anything, it's just that I'm terrible at talking about myself and that's a lot of random facts.

they will be answered whenever I can think of things that are at least kind of interesting to talk about.

sorry.

[wdya]

Doin' it For The Lulz - c:

…wait aren’t we both guys o.o

You are:

BUT WAIT I’VE NEVER SEEN YOU

[] Cute

[] Adorable

[] Beautiful

[] Sexy

[✓] askjdgfj

If you kissed me I would:

[] Kiss you back

[✓] Be shocked

[] Smile and laugh

[✓] Push you away (xD)

[] Slap you

If you asked me out I would say:

[] No[] Yes

[✓] I don’t know (depends on the intentions.  o.O  is it like “hey let’s go play mini golf because friends play mini golf” or “heh heh let’s go to some fancy restaurant and get a booth in the back heh heh.”)

Can we cuddle?

[…] No thank you[] Yes please

[] Sure 

Sex?

[✓] No thank you (xD)

[] Yes please

[] Sure

Your blog is:[] Not my style[✓] Good 

[✓] Superior 

I want your number/we should talk more:[✓] True 

[] False

[ghost-writers-blog]

Just Another Day in the Neighborhood Chapter Four

Author's Note: Because things happen when I get bored in class. Here's the third storyline to add to the mix. It's probably not going to be the last.

Title: Just Another Day in the Neighbourhood

Word Count: 1k or thereabouts

Written By: Musafreen

Summary: Come to Casper Town. It's a lovely place built over hell, crisscrossed ley lines, and the meaning of life. The inhabitants are just as charming: A sweet old lady that knows how to destroy everything we care for, a mad scientist that may or may not be responsible for the dwindling pet population, an assassin that is…er…something, a PI that seems to be stuck in the noire-times, and pets that can communicate on a human-like level.

We bring smiles, a carnival, and murder.

Care to stay?

Chapter Four: The Iguana Chronicles Part 1: PI on the Block

I have a funny feeling that this is going to end badly for the iguana.

—Ro

The story of Zadi Kim is, of course, of primary importance. Her questioning and her reasoning, both acts which should preferably performed well away from Caspar Town, is what sets the current chain of events in motion. Every story must have a point of origin, after all.

(The massive number of dead bodies and the incestuous relationships came into being long before Zadi Kims' time, however. It comes with the territory.)

Anyway, the point here is this. While Zadi (who is currently waking up from a flashback-induced slumber) and her actions require chronicling, there are other people in Casper Town whose sanities are under comparable, if not equal, stress.

Pray, direct your attention to the shady spot under the PIs' conspicuous black car. You might catch a glimpse of a sleek, lizardlike body topped off with flexible spikes…

While Ro the twice-born iguana might retain lizardly characteristics, it might be wiser to assert that she is not, in fact, an iguana. According to the primary source of random information on the cyberspace of the world past across Casper Town, an iguana is a kind of herbivorous lizard native to the Central Americas. Ro is native to Casper Town, which naturally screwed up everything else on the list.

She is presumably not herbivorous, and she is a lizard only by way of random chance. If for instance, somebody on a forum had said 'duck-billed platypus' instead of 'iguana', she would have been a duck-billed platypus. In addition to this, Ro is the only reptilian thing we know of with superpowers. By some strange dint of time, she was born twice. Possibly because of this, the iguana can swim through and exert pressure on temporal waters.

In a strange Town where the lake spits out bodies of dead tourists and the mad scientist cackles well into the night (we presume the glompworthy little thing with the glasses who opens the door is the scientists' naïve little assistant), and even the assumed sanity of the PI is coming under question, the iguana remains the one shining beacon for all that is good and right. Not because she wants to, and definitely not because she has a Hero Complex.

The iguana is the resident Casper Town Superhero, because some old lady said so.

Up to the point where she saw the Car, Ro the iguana was having a perfectly normal day. She woke up in the house shrouded with black shadows, and helped the assassin pack (which is to say, randomly throw things into) a duffle bag. It consisted of, among other things, various items of over-sharpened cutlery and things which were likely to go boom at the slightest provocation. The only object which was carefully placed rather than haphazardly thrown in was a purple and black wedding planner. With sparkles.

It has the words 'Plug hearts Cheese' on it.

The planner has been through a lot. The edges are singed, the pages are strewn with desperate tears. There are periodic rust-brown blood splatters from where the assassin tried to multitask and brought the thing to work. It is also far from new (it might have been conceived sometime back, possibly during a flashback), and has since then resisted attempts at any kind of practical implementation. This, however, has not stopped Nemo from trying.

Assassins, after all, never say die.

They prefer 'efface'.

There's more of a professional ring to it.

Moving on, while Ro the twice-born iguana, by virtue of being twice-born, was also in the House TLWitL.

In here, the air is so vastly different from the atmosphere in the assassin's place that someone might have cause to worry about the iguana getting cross-eyed. There's wood and dramatic lighting and cozy lighting and a bookshelf. There's a kitchen, and there is chocolate cake cooling on the counter. There is a smell permeating the air, that might pass for old-lady if you don't stop to examine it too closely.

And there are quilts. There are lots and lots of quilts. In contrast to the cheery décor, the quilts are Hallows' Eve themes. There are ravens and witches and jack-o-lanterns and a general impression of there having been a discount sale on black wool.

The other quilts the old lady quilts, which the people in the street usually see her knitting, are in the basement. They are the ones with the sunshine and puppies and rainbows, all bright colors in migrane-enducing combinations. The diplomatic observer might call them garish, but the old lady has, over time, developed a soft spot for the things. Mostly because the Eldritch Abominations forever trying to get out her basement grow pale at the sight of them.

Ro is in the basement. She's helping Musa Guard The Universe by of spreading a kitten-infested yellow quilt over a Hellmouth entrance, and having a strange sense of déjà vu.

This is because the basement is eerily familiar to the basement in the House WaGotP.

Oh sure, there are a few things most people would call notably different. For instance, the knick-knack of knitting needles instead of the maniacal laughter. There's equipment for torturing eldritch creatures instead of the equipment from the glassblower with the hiccups. There are snippets of string and bits of cloth instead of the occasional dismembered... something. Indeed, at first glace, the two basements don't look similar at all.

(Well, except for the blood splatters on the floor, but the only thing unusual in Casper town would be finding a house without said splatters.)

(Zadi hasn't discovered this yet. At the moment, like any self-respecting Film Noir detective, she knows blood splatters are important clues. She will soon learn otherwise, of course; it's the entrails you have to look out for.)

Ro, however, is a Superhero. Superheroes know these things. They're instincts are wired in favor of the strange, although sometimes they miss the strange directly in connection to them. Ro is one of the rare heroes who don't.

The basements are similar because they have the same vibe of greys and blacks and badly-brewed coffee hanging over them. Also, they serve as origin points for creatures we should probably shush up about because they might hear-

The old lady sighs, and waves a hand.

Sudden and Inexplicable Scene Change Later

So.

There's a car.

There is a PI in the car.

The PI is relatively sane. For now.

This is possibly one of the reasons she has received telepathic marriage proposals from many Casper Town residents. However, being sane, she declined all of them.

Despite her attempts at time-bending her into agreeing (there is so much less bloodshed if they all just go along with the madness), Ro is mildly impressed. Insanity, she'd discovered long ago, is contagious enough to make chicken pox grow hives with envy. Resistance may be futile, but is therefore also stupidly brave. Being a Superhero, she has a thing for stupidly brave people.

So Ro Keeps Zadi company. Watches. Waits. Sticks her tongue out and sees how far it will go before she has to pull it back in.

Three hours later, she decides that she's bored, that the whole stakeout gig is overrated and that it's about time she checked into Cendi's basement, anyway. Maybe it'll up the interest quotient of the day.

Ro sticks her head out into the shade, tastes the air with her tongue, and hops off towards the House WaGotP, hoping to find find dismembered body parts, suspicious stains, or maybe a catch a sliver of an evil laugh.

She vanishes into the distance, and Zadi Kim cautiously looks up from her coffee cup.

Even the iguanas in this town are strange.

[ghost-writers-blog]

Just Another Day in the Neighborhood Chapter Three

Author's Note: So, here's my two cents. I know, I know, it's nowhere near as good as Zadi's, but I did my best.

Title: Just Another Day in the Neighbourhood

Word Count: 1k-ish

Written By: Plug

Summary: Come to Casper Town. It's a lovely place built over hell, crisscrossed ley lines, and the meaning of life. The inhabitants are just as charming: A sweet old lady that knows how to destroy everything we care for, a mad scientist that may or may not be responsible for the dwindling pet population, an assassin that is…er…something, a PI that seems to be stuck in the noire-times, and pets that can communicate on a human-like level.

We bring smiles, a carnival, and murder.

Care to stay?

Chapter Three: In Which We Have A Flashback

We're trying to get Cheese and Plug together because we're fairly certain they have a spark.

—Nemo

LIES. COMPLETE AND UTTER LIES.

—Plug

The narrator faced a problem.

For some strange reason, Zadi Kim had decided to have a nap. Now, the trusty PI was comfortably sealed in her protective circle, dreaming happy, monster-filled nightmares.

But, now, without the trusty PI to guide the story, what was the narrator to narrate?

Ah. Of course. A flashback, a memory of an event that is legendary amongst the residents of Casper Town.

It all started one fine morning…

Begin Flashback

The Professor walked down the street at a brisk pace. He passed the house TLWitL without a glance, and spared only one wary look for the house WaGotP. He was be-robed in, amazingly, his walking robe, and, to the complete and utter shock of every living thing in existence, he was whistling.

What could have brought on such cheer? Had bad grammar been made illegal? Had Dickens been made required reading for everything that moves?

Not so. The Professor was in such a happy mood because he was on his way to buy the latest copy of his fifteenth favourite novel series, which was known as "Adventures of the Grammar Knight."

Unfortunately, his good mood was soon shattered. As he reached The Forum, his roving, alarmingly green eye fell upon a notice that was nailed upon the front door of The Forum. The Professor stopped abruptly, his mouth falling open, as he stared at the notice with great shock and surprise and bemusement and—

You get the idea.

The offending notice read: THE WEDDING OF CHEESE AND THE PROFESSOR IS TO BE HELD ASAP, BY ASSASSINLY DECREE. —NEMO.

The Professor huffed with great disgust at this announcement, and he marched into The Forum with an air of someone about to Make Trouble.

As it was still an early hour, The Forum was relatively quiet, with a only a few people hanging around. Ro the iguana was curled up in the corner, the barman was nowhere to be seen, and a certain assassin was sitting in a chair, scribbling something into a notebook.

Her peace was soon disturbed.

"NEMO!" the Professor said, rather loudly.

The aforementioned looked up, and smiled sweetly. "Yes, brother dear?"

The Professor brandished the poster, which he'd ripped from the door as he'd come in.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" he bellowed. For some, rather unfortunate reason, he was stuck on caps lock.

Nemo stowed her notebook and pen away neatly, and tried to resist the urge to punch the Professor in the nose. It was a little problem she had.

The Professor continued to rant for several more minutes, although even his fury didn't compel him to make a grammar error, for he knew that if such a drastic thing was done, a hole could be punched in the universe.

Nemo ignored the Professor for several minutes.

After those several minutes, there was a sudden pop, and Soapy the cat appeared on the table next to Nemo.

Now you may wonder. Soapy was Musa's pet, was she not? But, my dear, unfortunate torture vict— I mean, readers, the event that I am describing took place before the MOMENT (and yes, it has to spelt in all capitals, for when the MOMENT happened, everyone in Casper Town got stuck on caps lock). And you see, the MOMENT was the point where the pets of Casper Town were assigned their owners, along with many other fantastical happenings. But, before the MOMENT, the pets of Casper Town were mere strays, ownerless, lost without—

Right. Enough exposition.

So, Soapy appeared, and purred. Nemo looked at the cat with great delight. The assassin, talking over the Professor's protestations, said to Soapy, "Would you like to help me plan the wedding?"

Soapy purred in the affirmative.

"Brilliant!" Nemo pulled out her notebook. "I have a guest list here, and also a list of clothes. Help me pick?"

Soapy purred in the affirmative.

"NO!" the Professor roared. "I. WILL. NOT. MARRY CHEESE!"

Somewhere, deep in The Great Beyond, the entity known as Cheese stirred, as if her name had been called. She rose out of her bed, which looked oddly like a cracker, and she walked over to her hutch of psychotic bunnies— that is to say, she went over to her hutch of fluffy, friendly bunny rabbits. She tossed chunks of meat (no that isn't human flesh why would you think that?), muttering under her breath.

"Professor… Nemo… bunnies need… exercise…"

"And the Professor will wear a frilly tux!" Nemo declared happily.

Soapy purred in the affirmative.

The Professor in question, who was pacing around The Forum restlessly, stopped, raised his finger dramatically in the air, and said, "A-HA! I WILL BANISH YOU."

Nemo didn't even look up from her scribblings. "That's nice."

Soapy purred in the affirmative.

The Professor looked at the car with a cunning eye. "You! Cat!" he said.

Soapy purred in the affirmative.

"You will help me in the banishing ritual!" he ordered.

Soapy did not purr in the affirmative.

"FINE! I'll do it myself!" the Professor shouted (he was still stuck on caps lock but the narrator decided not to type all caps, for some reason known only to the narrator).

He threw off his walking robe to reveal his white magician robe.

(The narrator could not come up with a decent reason as to why he had this on when he was meant to be going to the bookshop, so the narrator has settled for a Lampshade.)

A lampshade appeared in the ceiling, directly over the Professor's head.

At about this time, over at the house WaGotP, the mad scientist was happily dreaming of some glorious things.

"World… domination," she mumbled. "Zombie apocalypse… create… endless minions…"

The Professor, having at last set up his banishing ritual, began to read from The Book of Overcoming Nemo, an ancient tome, gifted only to the greatest keepers of eldritch lore.

He chanted. Then he chanted some more. And some more. Finally, he came to the end of the spell. He named Nemo's true name, a name so terrible no one in existence ought to know it.

There was a small explosion, fog everywhere, and when the mist cleared—

Nemo was sitting there. Still chatting, calmly, to Soapy.

"Oh, this is going to be the best wedding ever!" she cried out with glee.

Soapy purred in the affirmative.

The Professor shouted in frustration, and immediately began to plan his execration.

Nemo looked at him with puzzlement. "Since when are you a magician, anyway?" she asked.

"I AM A HOST OF THOTH." he shouted back.

Nemo frowned. "Since when?" she said.

He ignored her.

At about this time, the fourth wall disintegrated, over near the graveyard. A crack team of elite teddy bears immediately sprang into action, sealing the rift in seconds.

No-one noticed any difference, apart maybe from the fifty or so spirits or were atomised in the fallout from the breakage. Still, who cares about people, dead or otherwise?

At last, the Professor unleashed his execration spell onto Nemo, with every intent of erasing her from existence.

All it did was ruffle her hair.

Over at the house TLWitL, the old lady paused in her knitting. She frowned, suddenly looking somewhat worried, as she heard a loud explosion coming from the direction of The Forum. From a cleverly concealed pocket, she withdrew a large, shiny key, which she stared at intently for a moment. Then, she tapped it gently against the wooden table which sat front of her.

After about twenty taps, she sighed and relaxed, reassured by the fact that the key was safe, and, presumably, by the fact that the door the key was a key to, remained locked.

She nodded at the key, and said to it, "That sounded like a failed execration, didn't it?"

Surprisingly, the key didn't respond, but the light from the old lady's table lamp reflected off the key in an indolent way, as if to communicate the sentiment of, well duh.

The Professor was understandably frustrated. After all, this was the forty-third time in four months that he'd tried to execrate Nemo, and it had failed for the forty-third time in a row.

He shook his fists at Nemo, ranted, before finally resolving to leave with what dignity he had left. So, he summoned a portal, and vanished.

And that's when the pack of psychotic bunnies came racing through the door.

Ah, Zadi Kim is waking up now. At last, the narrator can end this flashback.

[ghost-writers-blog]

Just Another Day in the Neighborhood Chapter Two

AN: To my adoring fans, no. I will not marry any of you. But thanks for unintentionally giving me these ideas. You will all be paying for my future therapy. And, Cheese, thanks for giving me the idea of the 'suspenseful' page breaks/scene changes.

And I find it to be awesome that I came up as sarcasm.

Hey, how many references can I keep making to books/movies/TV? Can you guys find them all?

Title: Just Another Day in the Neighbourhood

Word Count: 2K-ish

Written By: Zadi

Summary: Come to Casper Town. It's a lovely place built over hell, criss-crossed ley lines, and the meaning of life. The inhabitants are just as charming: A sweet old lady that knows how to destroy everything we care for, a mad scientist that may or may not be responsible for the dwindling pet population, an assassin that is…er…something, a PI that seems to be stuck in the noire-times, and pets that can communicate on a human-like level.

We bring smiles, a carnival, and murder.

Care to stay?

Chapter Two: Bring Out the Body Bags

OH, AND ZADI, YOU CAN'T FORGET THE WEIRD DISAPPEARANCES OF ANY TOURISTS/TRAVELLERS WHO STOP BY, AND THE WHISPERED TALES OF THE INFESTATION OF THE UNDEAD.

AND WHY DO WE HAVE SO MANY DEATHS THAT CAN'T BE EXPLAINED BY NATURAL MEANS, ANYWAY?

—Cendi

"Bloody hell," said a girl in an American accent.

She toed the corpse with the tip of her trainer, half-expecting it to stand up and do the salsa. She then wondered if a dead guy could dance properly without the usual functions of the living. Maybe it could also sing and do her laundry.

The lake that had spewed out the corpse gurgled.

That was not a good sign.

The girl, Sydney, looked at the water with her colour-changing eyes. Any second now there will be another dead body to add to the list. Sighing, she hooked her arms around the corpse's and dragged it to the wheelbarrow. Dropping it on top, she skipped a little as she wheeled it away.

(La, la, la. What a happy day this was. La, la, la.)

Ten minutes later the twelfth dead guy rose up to the surface of the lake.

He felt lonely that Sydney had forgotten about him.

Eh, she'll pick him up the next day

Back at the house TLWitL, the little old lady was knitting again. With her feet stuffed in oversized slippers, and resting comfortably in a rocking chair, she whistled a merry tune as the gold-silver needles moved into creating a masterpiece. The yarn was very strange looking. Like the house, it had an odd warped quality. The colours were colours, but no one was sure which ones they were. Maybe mauve. Mauve's the colour of the narrator's soul.

To be blunt, the lady wasn't knitting just any blanket. If the reader paid attention to the first chapter, then he/she/it would have known what the old lady was doing. She was—

A drastic scene change later.

Zadi doubled over to catch her breath. That crazy old guy just had to live on a giant mountain that had no proper driveways of any kind. Walking up was a nightmare, but what she was really dreading was walking down. She could have sworn that she saw skeletons on her way up.

She lifted her head to look at the door. The doorknob looked strange. Almost like a frog. And it was all painted, no doubt as a sign of eccentricity. She knocked the door and waited.

Five minutes later she knocked again.

Ten minutes later she stood there, tapping her foot impatiently.

What's taking him so long? Zadi thought.

The door finally opened, but only just. A nose stuck out, but it was the only visible appearance of a person. His voice was lathered in an Irish accent. "Who goes there?"

"Someone that needs advice." Zadi said, crossing her arms.

"Come Thursday of next year. I'm booked." The door slammed in her face, the green doorknob grinning at her in a mocking fashion.

"Oh. Come on! I walked all the way up here!"

His voice came muffled. "Too bad, Mr Big Shot. I already know everything, now leave!"

That was a pointless scene, the narrator decided. Probably more weak comic relief and a way to direct the reader's attention away from the lake that barfs dead people. She's not at all trying to do the same for the old lady.

Pft. What old lady? I don't see an old lady knitting?

Do you see an old lady knitting?

In Casper Town, there is this adorable pub known as The Forum. It could be as empty as a ghost town, or filled to the brim with people wanting their orders.

Oh, can someone please get me some crisps?

Whoops! Silly narrator, now isn't the time to eat. It's time to narrate and other such stuff. Like contemplating your place in the universe. That's very important and not at all important to this whatsoever.

Just for the record, I'm five steps above squirrel.

The Forum wasn't densely packed, but it had a nice crowd. The Professor was there lecturing a group of tourists. With a thesaurus in his hand, he spoke in great lengths about the importance of grammar and spelling. He also spoke about the fifth element, cheese, but that doesn't matter yet.

"That is why, simpletons, the letter 'u' is used for—"

"Excuse me," a tourist interrupted. "Why would I need to add the 'u'? We're in America. We don't need to use the 'u'."

Things got very confusing. And the narrator changed the setting to American English.

Proof: Color. Favorite. Pants. Fries. Period

Don't laugh, I would like to see you try being at the end of a sentence.

The tourist barely dodged the book as it flew over his head and hit someone else. The guy that got hit stumbled, and fell to the ground. His soul got erased by the book, thus substantiating the rumors, and he was now obviously dead. Or dead-ish.

Poor bastard.

"We are not in America!" The Professor exclaimed loudly. "We are in—"

Actually, no one knows exactly where Casper Town is.

Maybe Yugoslavia.

Yugoslavia is nice at this time of year, even though it no longer exists.

Back to the PI. She was sitting at the bar, exhausted from her encounter form the batty fruitcake. She took her hat off and put it on the counter, and then rubbed her eyes. "I can't believe it," she said to no one is particular. "I need a question answered, and he wants to terrorize the tourists."

The barman wiped a glass clean with a somewhat dirty rag. He raised an eyebrow. "He's always mad. Must be the leprechaun thing."

"What leprechaun thing?"

"Exactly. Want your usual?"

Zadi nodded, a root beer float and a plate full of french fries appeared in front of her. This town was surely something. "Hey," she asked him, holding a half-eaten fry in the air. "You know everyone, right?"

The barman propped his elbow on the counter and rested his chin on his opened hand. "Shocking, is it not?" he said in a dry voice.

Zadi resisted the urge to chuck a fry at his head. "What can you tell me about the occupants of these three houses?" With her free hand she spread the photos on the counter.

The barman picked one up and laughed. "What doesn't this town know about them."

"Like?"

"For starters, they're related to everyone. You've seen their family trees yet?"

She thought back to their marriage records and birth certificates. She shuddered, her brain and eyes, poor them. "Can't say I want to. Everything is so confusing and intertwined."

The barman was about to enter when a short girl walked up to him. "Into," she said a heavenly voice. Zadi choked on her gulp of root beer. "There's another body for you."

Into the barman threw his hands up in the air, grinning. "Excellent!" He threw his apron off and left the bar with a happy skip in his steps.

Zadi blinked several times. "Why is he happy about a dead person?" she asked slowly.

The girl spoke in her honeyed voice that reminded the PI of angels singing. "Why, he's the coroner, of course."

Zadi looked down at her depleted food. She was starting to feel sick. "Please tell me that he washes his hands."

Back at the WaGotP house, the other mad person known as Cendi cackled.

"It's alive!"

Nothing happened.

"I said—It's alive!"

Still. Nothing happened.

Cendi scowled, and stuffed her hands in her pockets. She stomped over to her computer, coughed, and typed in something. Stepping back, she repeated, "IT'S ALIVE!"

An eerie line of music filled the air, and lightning struck a nearby black cat. Bats flew in the underground laboratory, and a frightening piece of foreshadowing struck the narrator.

Bats. Why does it always have to be bats?

Zadi stumbled out of the bar-pub-thingy. Gods, she was exhausted. What a day this was: a stake-out, a crumbly professor, and a guy that touches dead people handling her food. She looked fondly at the trash can. As long as she refuses to think of fries, then she may not use it.

Putting her hat back on, a convenient wind gushed past her, making her trench coat flap behind her in a dramatic fashion. Of course, it was empathetic weather at work, but what Zadi doesn't know won't hurt her. The narrator chuckled at the thought of the next scene.

All of a sudden—with theme music—a girl appeared out of nowhere. The narrator cursed herself, but decided to add some comedy.

The girl looked down at her hands and her arms, confused. "Wait a tic, why am I not an old lady?"

Zadi rubbed her eyes. Hell's bells, this had to be the barman's fault. Maybe she accidentally ate an eyeball or something. "You know," she said, "I have the oddest feeling that there is an old-lady-limit rule." She blinked. "How do I know that?"

The strange girl shook her fist in the air, scowling. "I will smite you!"

The narrator only grinned, and waved her hand a little. "Good to see you, too."

"Er," Zadi wasn't sure how to phrase this exactly. "Who are you?"

The other girl claimed down and dusted off her shirt. "I am Cheese, of course." She said in an all-knowing voice. "Bow down before me."

"Excuse me?"

"Eh?" Cheese tilted her head to one side. "Didn't you summon me from The Great Beyond?"

"No."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Positive."

Musa woke up from her nap, and she felt very refreshed. Her cat, known as Soapy, jumped into her lap. Musa smiled and petted her kitty.

"I thought I felt a slight disturbance, but it's probably nothing." She said out loud to an invisible audience.

The cat purred in agreement.

Nemo, somehow without the narrator knowing, snuck into the next scene change. The scene dissolved into her office. It was large, there was a cheery fire in the fireplace, and she was sitting in her large leather chair. The assassin stroked the scales of beloved pet Ro.

"Hang on," she said to the iguana. "Is this when I do my evil laugh?"

Ro rolled its eyes. "Duh," it said, emphatically.

"Well, you should have told me that beforehand."

"I am not your mother, you can do things on your own."

"But I keep forgetting."

Then it was as if a camera was being backed away, the scene started to go black, when all of a sudden...

"Mwa, ha, ha!"

The narrator struck her head on the keyboard several times more. With homework needing to be done, she glared at the word processor. "Work, damn you. Brain why you not work?"

[ghost-writers-blog]

Just Another Day in the Neighborhood Chapter One

Title: Just Another Day in the Neighbourhood

Word Count: 1K

Written By: Zadi

Summary: Come to Casper Town. It's a lovely place built over hell, crisscrossed ley lines, and the meaning of life. The inhabitants are just as charming: A sweet old lady that knows how to destroy everything we care for, a mad scientist that may or may not be responsible for the dwindling pet population, an assassin that is…er…something, a PI that seems to be stuck in the noire-times, and pets that can communicate on a human-like level.

We bring smiles, a carnival, and murder.

Care to stay?

Chapter One: In Which We Introduce

Not to be rude, but what in the name of Zeus are you people talking about?

—Plug

The day started in Casper Town with some purple prose about the sun rising. It's only mentioned because it has some weird foreshadowing subtext. Maybe it could be about the dead bodies in the bottom of the lake? How the dead wake up in cemeteries at night? Or it could be nothing at all, and only the narrator trying too hard.

Nah, it's nothing.

Really.

Welcome, though.

We have a mad scientist (ignore the loud explosions), an old lady that holds the key to our destruction (please be nice to her), an assassin that uses her pets to help (yes, they talk), and a PI with a flare for tradition.

Is that everyone?

Well, there is that mad English professor on Mulberry Hill, but do speak in proper words and correct grammar. If you don't, a thesaurus will be aimed at you head. Some say the professor's thesauruses have soul-erasing properties, but this rumour is unsubstantiated.

Anyway, to get back to the point, it was a lovely morning. Perhaps too chilly, but the sun was out and everyone was still asleep. A car was parked near some bushes. The dark vehicle looked very out of place in such a quaint area. The houses were painted cheerful colours and the flowers were blooming. Yes, the car did look very obvious.

The owner of the car is the town's best (and only) PI, Zadi Kim.

She doesn't matter much right now, but she is taking pictures of the House With a Gargoyle on the Porch, and the House That Looks Warped in the Light.

"There's no logic behind this," she rumbled, barely noting her subconscious clinging to sanity by hardened fingernails, "It's like the entire town was made in a fit of particular madness by the inhabitants of a psych ward." The brunette observed in a monotone, "Or possibly one of those Internet forums."

The fourth wall was quickly fixed.

An iguana slithered out of a different house that was conveniently located in the shadows. A red tongue flickered out and tasted the air. She stuck her tongue back in and made a face. Ugh, the air tasted like morons. Ro the iguana crawled over to the dark car, her scales flashing in the light.

The PI didn't noticed and went on taking pictures. She had gotten several complaints about the three houses. But the one with the shadows gave her the wiggens, so she decided to do a stake out for the other two. "I'll say," she said to herself. "What's with this town?"

Just the other day another dead body washed up from Lake Inky. Mayor Fourohfour denied the waiver to send scuba divers down to find more. It was the eighth body this month, after all. And there was talk about cats missing, vampires in Pleasant Graveyard, and the apocalypse.

But those could all be considered small talk, and of the usual.

There is nothing to see here.

The owner of house WaGotP was reported to be a mad scientist. Zadi thought she read the paper wrong, because the house certainly didn't look like one owned it. Its bright walls, carefully trimmed hedges, and the happy birdfe—

Well, now it was looking suspicious.

House TLWitL, owned by a lovely old lady, who could always be seen knitting and polishing a large key, that, reportedly, has been in her family for ages.

The house in the shadows was still a mystery. Zadi did not want to go near it.

Of course, there was talk about the three houses, what talk there was. When the PI went to the Town Hall, she had gotten a headache looking at the marriage records and birth certificates. Nothing made sense. It seemed like one large incestuous family.

Why, that couldn't be true in this day in age.

Only in Mars, but not here in Earth.

Marry me…

Zadi jumped in her seat, the top of her head hitting the ceiling of her small car. Swearing, she looked around to see where the voice came from. There was only no one, and an iguana staring at her.

No! Marry me, please… A different voice said.

Zadi rolled her eyes and mouthed the word no.

Then everything repeated.

Zadi blinked.

Then everything repeated.

Zadi coughed.

Ro the iguana frowned. What was the point of being able to control time when the PI never reacted properly? Sighing, it went back to its owner; the old lay, and had fun causing her to repeat the same activities over, and over again.

The day continued and everything was purple prose and fine. The fourth wall cracked near the bookstore and where some teenagers were at the movies, but those were fixed. Birds chirped, a zombie got beheaded, and someone ran into the police station shouting about a psychotic bunny.

In a different part of town where the Professor resided, something relevant happened. His large house was filled with books and a network of computers. The tiny number of people that were invited inside often said that it reminded them of the Apple Store.

He jumped in glee as he read the chapters of his musty book. He slammed it shut, and dust exploded skywards. Such wonderful knowledge he found about interdimensional time travel theory. All he needed was a blue police box! Then several of his computer monitors informed him that he had mail by way of a loud PING. He opened Mail and read the newest message aloud, before frowning in astonishment.

"Zadi published what?"

In another dimension, a girl that looked oddly like Zadi Kim cradled her head in her hands. Her computer monitor had the familiar site of Fanfiction(.)net up, the message confirming about her published work displayed before her.

"Hell's bell," she muttered, leaning back in her chair, whilst slowly cleaning her glasses. "What have I just done?"

[rhaella]

15, 20, and 60?

Favorite Quote:  I already answered this one. XP

The first thing I notice in a new person:  Their eyes.

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it:  In front of it, even though I'm not photogenic.  But I'm even worse at taking pictures.

[bbcsherlockftw]

A Study in Pancake; The Great Pancake; The Pancake in Belgravia; The Pancakes of Baskerville; The Reichenbach Pancake.