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Sunday, 12 August 2007

<Insert bad-ass title here>

I couldn't think of a good title today so, I thought: Screw it.  Who cares?

Well, anyway.  We went to play badminton today.  That was the ulterior motive, as we were sending Leann (my cousin) to Birmingham and stuff.  So, we just thought we'd play anyway.

And sorry, no psycho-analyzing this time.  Not that I know of anyway.

In other news, I received a letter from the college I'm going to.  It's about becoming a mentor.  It drivels on about how they worked with secondary schools well, it's an on-going operation, yada-yada.  I'll cut to the chase.  I get paid.  Which sounds good.

But come on.  It's secondary school kids.  Knowing me, I'll be stuck with the crappy kids who'd rather be stabbed through the heart than go to school.  And if it's to the school I went to.  It'll probably be one of those kids.

For example, in my maths lessons: we are sent to another room for our maths lessons.  Not because I'm bad or anything.  It's just that it's higher-tier.  But you would think that higher-tier would get better amenities.  We were in a storage room.  And what made it worse was to the back of us were the lowest-tier set of kids (in the same year as us).  And in front of us there were like fresh out of primary school kids, who probably don't even know the meaning of the word sex yet.  Oh, and they were also the lowest-tier set.  Damn.

That meant a f*ck-load of noise.  Heck, one time we were going through vectors or something and the door slammed open in front of us.  Scaring Sammi - she's scared very easily.  A kid bursts into the room - sulking and throwing a tantrum, you know the like - screaming: 'I dun wanna!'  And runs amok inside our "classroom."

What also made our endeavor in the storage closet (not that kind of endeavor; you sick b*stard) was that the middle-tier group.  Which was the actual class we were assigned to (but were taking out of due to our unnaturally high ability in the art of mathematics - which was probably not very high).  They were messing with these "egg" things.  It's like a computer game quiz thing, which is miles better than what the hell we were doing.  They'd come out of class saying how they enjoyed the lesson with "baldy-head Patrick" - self-explanatory.  And to add insult to injury we were always let out after them.  Argh.

Ok, maybe not always.  But most of the time.

So anyway.  Yea, I'm probably not going to be a mentor.  I'm in a procrastination mood anyway.

Anyway to the story we go:


'It indeed seems so.'  I replied to Gavin's question.

I watched, and laughed, at the sight of Gimely's yoda moves on the beast.  Although Gimely struck hard and without fear.  The beast had no problem blocking his shots; despite the  look of terror in it's eyes.  But still, it blocked successful each time.

'This is not good.  Gimely's going to lose.'  I said to Gavin.

'What?  Why?  He's obviously has the upper hand.'  Gavin replied to me, watching the fight with increasing anticipation.

'Don't you see?  Gimely's fighting in blind rage.  And his breathing has grown heavy.  He won't last long.'

Gavin made no reply this time.  He just drew his swords.  He walked forward.

I also drew my swords and followed him.

'Oi!  Bucket-head!  Pick on someone your own size!'  Argh, Gavin.  That line was way to cliched.

The beast stopped and for the first time in the last few minutes, it drew it's sight away from Gimely.  It's eyes still full of terror.

But Gimely had no intention of stopping.  He had already jumped into the air and was bearing down on it at full speed.

Before it knew anything happened, Gimely had sliced off it's left upper arm.  This action, however, made it break out of the terror that ran through it's veins.  If it had veins, that is.

It snarled.  Now Gimely was showing signs of terror.  He has finally understood what he has done.  He's a 3 foot penguin fighting a giant insect-like alien wielding several claymores.

The beast has instilled fear into Gimely.  Gimely was frozen.  It drew it's right claymore up into the air, as if to behead someone.  And brought it down.

In the next moment, I reacted purely on instinct.  Without knowing otherwise, I had broke into a run as the beast lifted it's claymore.  As it brought it down, I lunged and just managed to hoist Gimely out of harm's way.  I could feel the air hitting the back of my neck as the claymore barely missed me.  It did hit my coat-tail however.  That was how close it was.

'Yargh!'  I heard a battle-cry.  I turned around to see Gavin in mid-air, ready to slice the alien's head cleanly in half.  He brought it down, just as the alien turned it's head.  There was an almighty clang as sword his helmet.

Gavin landed next to me.

The helmet landed a few feet away to the right.  It landed upright.  I saw the gash running from top to bottom.  Surely, it couldn't survive that.

I turned in horror to find it, indeed, had.  But not without some harm.  Blood was flowing from the alien.  I couldn't see all that clearly, since it had it's back to me.  But it was most definitely bleeding.  Red blood.  Just like us.

It turned.  I saw it's face for the first time.


What's it look like?

It's up to Gavin to do the description!  He's going to so hate that.

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