See that's funny, because I thought I wrote better in the start and then got lazy. character development counts for a lot, Anastasia Steele. I'll keep that in mind. Also I was only in Ohio for like 2 hours, playing Moon Breakers in the terminal. connecting flight to Providence.

twilight is so passe. the new garbage lit is 50 shades. I read that over some woman's shoulder on her kindle on the plane to Ohio and it made me angry. When I found out the protagonist's name was "anastasia steele" I tried to depressurize the cabin by banging my head against the window glass. fortunately, I knocked myself unconscious in the process and at least didn't read it anymore, but I would have much preferred for the 50 shades kindle to be sucked out into the void 10 thousand feet above a corn field. Every time Anastasia referred to her libido as her 'inner goddess' I wanted to swallow drywall nails. the worst part was, it wasn't even really that kinky. find out about the job next week.

(WARNING- FORMATTING WAS LOST WHEN I COPY/PASTED TO THE FORUM AND I AM TO LAZY TO FIX IT.) Lost Chapter 1, "Mailbox baseball" Dear Diary, it was a Copperton family Texas barbecue. Cousin Bill had his bat out. He was always the scrawniest of the Copperton lot as a child, but he was sixteen now and he grew into a fine young man, an all star baseball player at that. Bill was not one of the brighter Coppertons, in that he had not yet learned that boasting in our family was typically met with being called out in a painful fashion. He was a fantastic athlete, but somehow talent and physical prowess had sapped his brain, and he was incapable of divining the consequences of his actions with any forethought at all. I think if he’s lucky he might live to see his seventeenth birthday. “I’m the best hitter in the league.” He was telling Annie and me. He was trying awfully hard to impress Annie, which was cute in the way that teenagers are when they’re trying to pick each other up but have no game and nothing to talk about. It also pays to mention that Cousin Bill was completely oblivious to the fact that nearly every night without fail, Annie and Ted were sneaking out of the house every night to hook up out in the field under the stars. We figured it would shatter his world if he ever figured it out, so Annie just kept leading him on while Ted stood behind her trying not to laugh, he’d go back to school at the end of summer and meet girls his own age and forget all about Annie anyways. “I can hit ten balls back to back, from anyone in this family, belt them right out of the yard!” He waved his bat at the congregation of barbecue worshippers. This would be his first mistake of the evening. What Bill had forgotten was that Esther Copperton, our seventy year old grandmother, and easily the most diabolical and wicked of an entire family of backstabbing pranksters, was attending the barbecue. Most people wouldn’t have anything to fear from Grandma Esther, she was by all accounts a sweet old lady, but Bill had just mentioned that he could hit off of anyone in the family. Esther in her prime was a champion softball player, and she kept herself in fantastic shape, playing in the senior league with women twenty years younger than her. Grandma Esther had a vile reputation in softball; she was locally called the “Snake on the Mound.” She was about as evil a pitcher as she was a Copperton, so Bill was about to get a double dose of the family venom. “Bet you can’t hit ten straight off of me, Little Billy.” She croaked. Silence all around. The gauntlet had been thrown down. Would Billy pick it up? He would. Billy isn’t that bright. “Grandma you can’t pitch, you play softball!” he mused. “Oh? So you think because I’m old and I play a lady’s game I can’t throw, hmm?” She cackled. “Boy, you have no idea the beast you have unleashed.” Ted mumbled. “How about we make it a challenge then, Little Billy, if hitting off your grandma is so easy, why don’t you try taking a golf ball?” Nothing about this was good. Grandma had an arm like a cannon. Have you ever seen womens’ softball on ESPN? Where some of the girls wind up so hard they practically lift off the mound like a helicopter when they pitch? That was Grandma in her prime, and she still had it too. Grandma Esther pitching golf balls was probably a war crime. “Alright.” Bill consented, realizing that his guy machismo was on the line with all the other Copperton boys, who would all naturally use that kind of tough guy posturing to bait each other constantly. Ted got grandma a bucket of golf balls from the shed. Grandma told Bill where to stand, and then walked out the distance between the mound and the plate, counting in her head as she took the steps. She was all business. “Still think you can hit ten straight off your Grandma, Little Billy?” She teased. Billy gulped. “Just pitch!” he chirped. Grandma wound up and chucked a golf ball at him. He clipped it, right down where the base line would have been on a real diamond. Grandma nodded her approval, and then spat. She had a massive pinch of chew in her mouth, she was very much a classic ballplayer in terms of vices, and it was a miracle she didn’t have mouth cancer. Grandma pitched again. Bill hit the golf ball clean this time, and it made a resounding PING off the bat and fired off into the sky, landing god knows where out on the pasture. “Not bad.” Grandma grinned. “But can you hit the old Copperton Sidewinder?” Billy didn’t know what the Copperton Sidewinder was, and by the way, it as evil as it sounds. Grandma is the most dangerous kind of pitcher, an evil genius and tactical ball player that takes every at bat personally. She knows when to throw strikes, and she knows when to throw balls. She studies the league stats, and she knows who the hitters are, and who is on the roster to fill positions. Most importantly, she knows when to hit a batter to get him off the plate if there’s the slightest risk of him belting one out of the park with men on bases. She is an evil, vindictive ballplayer, and a sore loser to boot. The Copperton Sidewinder isn’t a special pitch; it’s just her popping the batter and giving him a base. I knew what the Copperton Sidewinder was. Ted knew what the Copperton Sidewinder was. We both knew that Grandma Esther had an eye like a predatory bird and could put that ball anywhere she wanted. “Back off, Bill, you don’t want to take that pitch!” Ted warned. “She doesn’t scare me, I’m two for two!” Bill shot back. “Listen to your brother, Little Billy; you don’t want to agitate the Snake on the Mound.” Grandma taunted. But Billy did not back down. Grandma winded up. She threw the Copperton Sidewinder. Bill’s face turned beat red and his eyes teared up. His grip on his bat was white-knuckle momentarily, but then relaxed completely and he dropped it to the grass with an audible thump as it smacked into the sod. His hands instinctively reached for his crotch, and he pitched forward into the lawn, his scream of pain high and screeching. Resounding laughter reverberated throughout the barbecue, Grandma stood on her makeshift mound and spat. “You hit two of my balls, and I hit two of yours. I reckon that puts you back down to zero, Little Billy.” She cackled. Bill was not in the mood to argue. Nobody had ever hit the Copperton Sidewinder. “gosh darn Grandma is nasty.” Ted mused as he nodded in sad dismay at Billy, crawling along the lawn in a state of prolific pain. “This has nothing on the time she faked her own death just to see who would cry at her funeral, and then called dad a ***** when he found her and started bawling like a baby.” I reciprocated. “That was a good one.” Ted laughed. Bill eventually rejoined the party after spending a half hour with a bag of frozen vegetables on his crotch. You always come back to a Copperton party, just to see who else will get their pride wounded. I should mention though that aside from being none to bright, Bill is a glutton for punishment. When he came back around to where Ted, Annie, and I were sitting, he was all business. He had a mischievous grin on his face, which was typically bad news, because as boys Ted and Billy were partners in crime. Ted had two years on Billy, so between the two of them he was always the wily mastermind, and Bill the unwitting fall guy. Throughout childhood, everyone knew this to be true, but a Copperton parent never punishes the real perpetrator when blame can be shifted, and even though we were all peripherally aware that the plan had always been executed to perfection by Ted, Billy was always the whipping boy when they got caught. At first this was intentional, they’d go light on Ted and hard on Billy, just to knock some sense into him and make him realize he was being manipulated. For ten years this went on, and when everyone realized there was a fair chance that Billy was just too thick to see the writing on the wall, they all kept doing it anyways just because it was funny. “We should play mailbox baseball tonight!” Bill grinned. Ted thought about it for all of two seconds then nodded. “Tomorrow night, I’m doing something tonight.” Annie blushed. Bill didn’t see it. “Come on!” Bill rebutted. “Tomorrow night, I promise, I’ll drive. I gotta take care of some **** tonight though, so its not gonna happen.” Ted grinned. Bill walked off, self-assured. “I can’t believe he hasn’t caught on.” Annie giggled. “He’s dumb as a post alright.” Ted mused. “But that ain’t the half of it. Hellie get your keys, we gotta go to the hardware store.” “Get the **** out, Uncle Al just put the steaks on the grill.” I whined. “And Al can’t cook for ****, come on, take us to the hardware store and I’ll buy both you girls real steaks and a decent barbecue joint.” He sneered. Well he did have a point, Uncle Al didn’t know his own *** from a bag of charcoal, and I’m not going to turn down a free steak. “Why the hell do we need to go the hardware store all of a sudden anyways?” Annie prodded him. “Because I have got a really bad idea.” Ted chuckled. “That’s not a comforting thought.” I mumbled. When we got to the hardware store, Ted made a beeline for the mailboxes. He knew exactly where they were, because in the past whenever the folks caught him and Bill out playing mailbox baseball they always made him go to the store to get the new mailbox. But this time, he had something different in mind. He grabbed the mailbox that the Copperton ranch always had, and then he grabbed one of the smaller ones and shoved it inside of it. Grunting his satisfaction, he put the larger mailbox back on the shelf, and ran around the store, collecting a twenty five foot length of chain, and a bag of quick drying cement. He bought all these things along with the mailbox, and then took us out to get a steak. “So what’s the occasion for this sudden show of generosity?” I mad dogged him between bites. It was a way better steak than what Al would have cooked. “As if I needed an occasion to spoil my two favorite girls in the world.” He grinned. “For a Copperton, you’re a ****** liar.” Annie scolded. “Oh we never lie darlin; sometimes we just creatively omit the truth.” He chuckled. “Seriously Ted, what are you on about?” I pursued. “Nothing tonight.” He held his hands up. “Nothing tonight?” Annie raised an eyebrow. “Besides that.” He grinned. “Honestly. Mailbox baseball is tomorrow night.” “It was uncharacteristically responsible of you to buy the replacement mailbox ahead of time, Ted. Why the hell do you always whack our own box anyways?” I sneered. “Hellie, don’t you know the first thing about mailbox baseball? You gotta whack your own, what are the neighbors going to think when they come out on the street and see the Copperton box is the only one left standing?” He chided. “Besides, I’m fixing to make sure we never have to replace a mailbox ever again…” “That still doesn’t explain why you took us out to dinner; I’m not buying altruistic intent.” Annie chuckled. “I needed an hour or two away from Bill to keep him from asking sensitive questions.” He quipped. “And I’ll say no more about that. When we get back, it will all become crystal clear.” That couldn’t be good. When we got back to the ranch, Ted had me stop at the roadside and wrapped the chain around the stake our mailbox was mounted on, then secured it to my trailer hitch and had me pull the whole damn thing out of the ground. He then instructed me to take the round about trail back to the compound and park behind the barn. Ted pulled the mailbox out of the truck and set it down on the floor of the barn, and began mixing half of the bag of quick drying cement into a rusty old milk pail. He got a screwdriver and pried the door off the smaller mailbox so it would fit completely inside the existing one. He then placed it inside our mailbox, and arranged it so it was perfectly centered with about two inches of negative space on any given side. “Perfect.” He mumbled to himself, and poured the wet cement into the space between the two boxes, then shut the lid on the outer mailbox to test it. “Won’t know the difference to look at it, and no one will realize the mailbox is gone for a day.” He grinned. “And you’re going to drive Bill out for mailbox baseball tomorrow night.” I realized. “Yup. That’ll be a riot.” He chuckled. “I don’t know whether to be ashamed of your casual fraternal sadism or to admire your cunning and resourcefulness. You know if he hits that thing at any decent speed, its probably going to break his arm.” I lectured. Ted shrugged. “Well you know how much Nurse Eve over in the ER loves us; I’d hate to go a year without seeing that nice old lady.” “You’re depraved.” Annie spat. “Its one of my more charming qualities.” Ted bowed. Ted left the mailbox in the corner of the barn to dry overnight. Since the family was around and nobody was doing any proper work around the ranch because of it, it stayed there undiscovered, and he got his truck and drove out to the street to sink the mailbox back into its foundation right before cock’s crow. By midday, the cement was completely dry, baked to a rock hard core in between the thin sheet metal sandwich under the Texas sun. That night we got a call from Nurse Eve in the ER at one in the morning. Ted had brought Bill in with a broken arm and a shattered wooden bat. When they put Ted on the phone, he admitted to the folks that they had been out playing mailbox baseball, and noted that ‘Some clever snake of a neighbor’ had sabotaged their box with a concrete sandwich to deter such pranks. Ted came back from the ER with Bill in tow, his arm in a sling and hopped up on pain medication that morning just in time for breakfast. As usual, Ted was just an accessory for driving the car, while Billy was scolded mercilessly while he was still twelve rainbows deep in his drug-induced fairyland, the folks yammering on about how he’d miss half the high school Varsity season this year. Then Grandma Esther, no longer content to chide the unresponsive Bill, declared that she would walk out to the roadside to collect the mail and survey the damage. When she came back to the house, she was crying tears of joy. Ted sat there and grinned like an idiot. It took Grandma nearly a half hour between bouts of tortured laughter to explain to the rest of the family that the cemented mailbox that was responsible for Bill’s accident was ours. When the entire Machiavellian plot unraveled, not only did Ted not get the blame for putting a significant dent in his little brother’s high school baseball career, but he was lauded as a genius for coming up with a bat-proof mailbox. So very typical Copperton.

Because Maximus asked so politely, I went through my old files and found the Coed Monster manuscript and found some chapters that weren't specifically about brazen sex acts that no one should try with their significant others because they are way too hot. I dug up the "Lost Chapters." This was the epilogue part of the manuscript that takes place in the summer, after the normal story which encompasses the school year. Every year the Coppertons spend summer on the family ranch in Texas, where they attempt to kill each other... More on that later. THE INTRODUCTION Because most of the manuscript is about stuff you do in college, (sex and drinking) we're going to pick up the story in an odd place, where the characters are mostly already developed, and will reference parts of the book that will never be posted on this forum. Helena Copperton- The protagonist. Helena "Hellie" Copperton is a 19 year old art student. Her father is businessman from Texas, patriarch of the Copperton clan and owner of the Copperton ranch. Helena's mother is a normal human psychologist and bestselling self-help author. She insists that Helena keep a diary to help her gain perspective and resolve her intimacy issues- Helena has struggled with her sexuality since her teenage years after accidentally paralyzing her first boyfriend. He's okay now. Helena has a poor relationship with her mother and resents her psychological advice. She attends MILO College of Art and Design in Los Angeles. (She would have graduated this year. Now I feel old ) Annie the Sledgehammer- Helena's lifelong best friend, Annie is from a lycanthropic bloodline. She spent much of her childhood in the company of the Coppertons, and doesn't talk about her family much because they have been ostracized from their werefolk clan. (Annie is a hybrid and can't transform to disguise herself, in traditional werecommunity, hybrid children are often killed at birth to avoid discovery. Annie's parents were exiled for keeping her. This is never discussed at length in the story.) She has a sunny attitude and is socially and sexually aggressive, earning her the nickname "Sledgehammer." Helena is jealous of how easily Annie gets along with people and attributes Annie's charm with 'being cute and fuzzy instead of scary and scaly.' Charlotte "Miss Skeeto"- Skeeto is Annie's roommate at the apartment complex right next to the MILO campus. She is a vampire who has been dead for roughly fifty years and a nerdy geek girl. Skeeto received her nickname for her single fang, she lost her other one when she was elbowed in the face while waiting in line trying to get tickets for the original theater release of Return of the Jedi back in 83. Only her grandfather in Darkness calls her Charlotte. Lucia "Loose Luce"- Helena's roommate in Guapa Beach. Lucia is an 800lb Lamia (most of it in her tail) with a white collar job in HR. She is purely coldblooded and requires a space heater and body heat to avoid slipping into a torpid state while she sleeps. She gets along well with Helena because of their mutual preference for warm weather due to their reptilian ancestry. (most monsterfolk live together because they scare people and its hard to find apartments.) Lucia's interests are physical fitness and promiscuous sex. Helena does not sleep well on most weekends, the walls in the house are thin. Ted Copperton- Helena's cousin and full blooded male medusa. (They're bald.) Ted is Annie's schoolgirl crush and it annoys the hell out of Helena because it makes her a third wheel. Grocery- Originally one of Skeeto's friends with benefits, Grocery was bitten and turned into a vampire by Skeeto after discovering that he had a high-mortality cancer which his family was too poor to treat. Rather than bankrupt his family by prolonging his life a few months, Grocery opted to circumvent the issue by becoming undead.

I'll go through my bag of tricks and see if I can find a chapter that's only diet raunchy.

OH LOOK WHO SHOWS UP AFTER LIKE 15 PAGES You're in the dog house, Ramette.

SO LONG, WRATH. and thanks for all the fish. Servant One: So I heard a rumor that this was the last episode of The Wrath. Servant Two: Shut up. Servant One: Well, it would explain why we're back after a long hiatus. Servant Two: So you really believe it? Servant One: Well, what else is there to say? Servant Two: Goodbye I guess. OH NO YOU DON'T. Servant One: Huh? If this really is the last episode, I'm installing that gaydar I bought for 2V-R8 a million pages ago. Servant Two: Ha! Servant One: Why are you so excited? You're the gay one. Servant Two: What gave you that idea? Servant One: Only like 26 pages of banter. You watch Project Runway. Servant Two: With my girlfriend, Servant Six. Servant One: NO *********** WAY Servant Six? Seriously? She's totally hot. Servant Two: Yea, she has a thing for sensitive guys. I mean, all women do, they just don't know how to find them so they just go straight to bad boys. I'm actually kind of scared of how much sense that makes. Servant Two: Well yea, you're a woman. Servant One: Well, I guess we don't need the gaydar then. Case closed. Servant Two: Admit it. Yea, admit it. Servant One: Admit what? Servant Two: The voice who shouts loudest has the most to hide. Servant One: You don't really think I'm... Well not at first, but eventually? Definitely. Servant Two: Come on. Admit it. Last episode. Servant One: Fine. I'm gay. KNEW IT! Servant Two: Does that feel better? Servant One: Actually, it kind of does. Thanks you guys. Ha! What a queen! Hey narrator, did you see that? Of course. Well that was fun. So, what are we doing tonight? I uhm... was kind of hoping you'd come up with something. Well I'd need to go to the grocery store for some idea juice. Are you seriously out of boxed wine again already? ...Yes. You have a problem. My problem is that Two Buck Chuck doesn't live down the street from me. You're hopeless Wrath, I'm gonna go bother Havoc. Whatever, gets you off my back. Aren't you going to thank the readers for their loyal patronage? Not while I'm sober. You're so impossible, Wrath. I guess there's only one thing for us to do. You're still here, and I'm still sober. What gives? I only have one more question for you. Then you're off the hook forever. Fine. Shoot. A sphincter says what? What? That'll be all. Enjoy your retirement from fan fiction, Wrath. We had fun! WAIT A MINUTE Nope. Wayne's World gag. Swish! Havoc. Huh? What are you doing? I'm sitting on a dropship waiting to rock'n'roll all over alderaan. There's some stupid planetary cannon down there... I didn't really pay attention to the briefing but whatever, I get to shoot people. Hey that's great! We've never written action before. We can close with that. I know Greypilgrim is always trying to figure out how to write combat. I guess we'll show her how we do it in the big leagues. Well sure... In like a half hour. Huh? Yea that's the part you don't see when you're sitting in queue on fleet. Military life. Hurry up and wait. But... We just struck out with the Wrath. She's stone sober. You've got to do something interesting for the readers, quick! Look, I'm sitting on a dropship. There's not a lot I can do. Well... There's one thing. Anything. It's kind of a SpecForce thing. Military joke. Some of your readers might not get it. **** it, we'll take anything right now. Fine. But you owe me. Did I ever tell you that you were my favorite, Havoc? Were you always a crappy liar, or are you just bad with girls? The second one. Now get to work. Havoc1 took a brief look around the dropship, strapped into the gravity harness. She saw the monitor with the ETA on it- The longest 24 minutes of her life, today, just like every other day in the army. She considered checking her weapon again, and levered the action. It hit the receiver with a hearty ka-chak, smooth. So smooth. There was no need, she had already done it 3 times, she could field strip it blindfolded. Glancing around she noticed the others. The Jedi were the most boring. They never talked, they just sat in the G harness and meditated. There was nothing worse in the Republic Fleet then bunking with Jedi, their calm attitude and bland approach to every issue made the whole religion look like a truck load of wet paper bags. She wondered briefly if Force-Sensitivity made you boring, or if it was something that was just hammered into you during training on Tython. A smuggler was cleaning his pistols with an oil cloth on the other side of aisle. How a cowboy like him got roped into this, Havoc1 couldn't be sure. She just hoped the amateur wouldn't get in the way. With nothing left to do, and nobody interesting to talk to, she fell back on the soldiers that she knew. She elbowed a vanguard sitting next to her. " ." She mumbled under her breath. "Hmm?" The vanguard replied. "I have a dream about her." Havoc 1 continued. "She rings my bell." A commando across the aisle picked up the tune. "Got gym class in half an hour." Havoc1 spoke the next line. "Oh how she rocks, in keds and tube socks." The vanguard finally picked it up. "She doesn't know who I am..." Havoc1 said. "She doesn't give a damn about me!" "CAUSE I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG, BABY!" All the troopers sang out in unison. The smuggler looked confused. "YEA I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY!" All the troopers sang again. The Jedi seemed to wake up and look around. The dropship pilot chimed in over the intercom. "LISTEN TO IRON MAIDEN BABY WITH ME!" "ooohooooohoooohoooo!" The soldiers sang throughout the ship, the civilians and jedi looking at them funny. "He lives on my block. He drives an iroc." The soldiers sang. "HE DOESN'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME." Havoc1 insisted. "CAUSE I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY. I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY. LISTEN TO IRON MAIDEN BABY WITH ME! OOOOOHOOOOOOHOOOOO!" They all finished together. "Thank you captain." Havoc1 pressed the intercom. "Thank you, lieutenant." He chirped back. The clueless jedi just shook their heads. That good? Thank you Havoc, you're the best. Anytime. What now? Well first, everyone needs to click . (Simple Minds, Don't You) Then, they need to click here. (The Wrath Family Portrait) Then, they need to read this... THE WRATH The Wrath would eventually retire from her position as Emperor's Wrath, citing that she was too drunk and irresponsible to maintain the position, passing the job off to a more qualified Sith Marauder that was a stronger class in PVP. In her retirement, she set up her own dating service on Nar Shaddaa called "The ERP Server." Her policy forbid listing the clientele's faction affiliation, and was regarded as one of the most progressive institutions for inter-faction politics and dating in the Galaxy. Imperial investors in Solokcupid would eventually buy out the business and gut it, but the Wrath only shrugged. She bought a winery on Alderaan and settled down and married Quinn, and used the vineyard as an excuse to pursue her true passion in life, alcoholism. Also, she finally bought herself the Dessler Turbo she always wanted. Some days she was even sober enough to drive it. BROONMARK Broonmark would write slash fiction and do odd jobs for the Wrath for a few years, and did administrative work at ERP Server. After the company was bought out though, he focused on his writing career and eventually hit it big with his cyberpunk detective drama. Critics would rave that it was "Like Neuromancer, except the protagonist was gay and Molly Millions was a dude in drag." PIERCE AND VETTE Pierce resigned his commission in the Imperial Navy when the Wrath retired, but teamed up with his girlfriend Vette to match his black ops skills to her cat burglary and kleptomania. Together they re-appropriated many twi'lek artifacts. They would eventually retire from crime after Vette developed an exhibitionist fetish for having sex in tombs that eventually led to the couple nearly being captured on several capers. Their current whereabouts are unknown. JAESA AND CHRIS Chris eventually had a durasteel prosthetic hip replacement installed that could withstand Jaesa's bedroom antics. They got married a few years later, and had the wedding at the Wrath's vineyard on Alderaan. Satele Shan was a wedding guest, and the Wrath paid Jaesa 100,000 credits to throw the bouquet directly at Shan's face. The Wrath of course never admitted that she had financed such a vicious prank and claimed ignorance. "BIG SIS", PUBLIC ENEMY NUMBER 1. Big Sis eventually retired from active bounty hunting, and took up an administrative job in the Mandalorian Enclave in Kaas City, where she served as a handler for low level bounty hunters during the annual Great Hunt. She eventually divorced Torian Cadera over a difference of opinion on starting a family, and later married Gault. Mako and Torian later ran into each other in a bar on Tatooine, hit it off, and got married. They have 4 kids. "LITTLE SIS", GHOST WHISPERER Lil Sis went on to make a lucrative career in huttball, on account of she was a Sith Assassin. Her career on the Rotworms was tragically cut short by an ankle injury she received while force-pulling someone into a terrain hazard, from which she never recovered. She fell back on coaching, and has led the Kaas City Mynocs to the playoffs for the third year in a row. In the off season, she coaches girls volleyball for the Korriban All-Sith Girls League where she is infamous among the overseers for her pet team- "The Slime-Idiot-Slaves," made up entirely of Sith Inquisitor hopefuls. HAVOC1 Havoc1 would eventually chase down and kill Tavus, fulfilling her mission. Aric Jorgan attempted to escalate their relationship beyond convenient sex, but Havoc rebuffed him, and broke it off. She went on ERP Server for a while and ended up dating most of the Cipher Agents in Imperial Intelligence. She would later write a counter-intelligence manual for the SIS regarding the seduction strategies used by Imperial Intelligence, but it never caught on, mostly because the SIS brass at the time considered the book to have very little actual counter-intelligence or espionage in it, citing that "it read like a Chelsea Handler book, except every chapter was about screwing James Bond." Her manual was eventually declassified, and became wildly popular as a coffee table reader for women throughout the galaxy. Her literary success sparked a late night talk show, which led to the role that would cement her type-cast career in movies- the drill sergeant in Full Durasteel Jacket. She would also eventually re-kindle her romance with Aric Jorgan, and marry him. OVERSEER HARKUN While never actually featured in the Thursday Morning Wrath series, Overseer Harkun would continue to be the best NPC in the game. Slave. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thanks Everyone, Especially all the girl gamers who came out of the woodwork to read the Wrath. I know you all found us eventually, and on several occasions you laughed so hard that your husbands or your co-workers thought you were crazy. Its ok, we laughed with you. Is the Wrath really over? Yes, it is. We've had a lot of fun here, but theres a few factors that have conspired against her to bring us to where we are today. I actually had the epilogue treatment written and waiting to be pasted in 2 chapters back. There are 2 major factors that are causing us to close out the story of the drunk Sith who has become one of SWTOR Fan Fiction's favorite characters. The first of them is that next week I will be flying cross country for what might be the most important job interview of my life, and if I get that job, I'll have to relocate cross country to take it, and my SWTOR career will not survive the move if I do. The second reason is that the Wrath lives in a shadow of another story I've already written, and she's gone to a place we can't follow her on these forums without breaking rules, getting banned, and generally posting controversial material. The original Wrath, a manuscript I wrote a few years ago and tried to sell but couldn't, (Not a surprise. Literary agents have a 99% rejection rate. Everyone who's ever written a book will tell you that writing the book is the least of the accomplishments. Getting it sold is the hard part.) was a much raunchier, nastier, and Rated R story than Bioware would ever allow us to have on the boards. It was the Diary of a Coed Monster, the first person story of 19 year old art students that happened to also be mythological monsters, and Helena the medusa, Annie the werecat, Lucia the Lamia, and Charlotte "Miss Skeeto" the vampire were ten times sexier, raunchier, and more fun than the Wrath could ever be. But since the Wrath can't go there, I'm not interested in writing the same story again, but sanitized. There was sex and sexuality, growing up, strippers, online dating, feline tongue bathing, medusa haircuts (machetes are involved), embarrassment, humiliation, and drama that only a 19 year old freshman college girl who was also a supernatural creature could withstand. If I can find a chapter that isn't too awesome for these boards, maybe all post it. Just watch out for the Wrath in the fan fiction section of any game you play. She might not be there in person, but she might be there in spirit. If there's anything we love writing, its girls behaving badly. Thanks again The Dooz

Hey Wrath! What? Wanna do it? Eh... I dunno. Oh come on. Does it mean that much to you? More than anything. More than Thundercats? Better than Thundercats. Pizza Cats. Okay... will somebody please cue that bird? SAMURAI PIZZA CATS! Oh yea! Who do you call when you want some pepperoni? SAMURAI PIZZA CATS! Right on! They're stamping out crime and you know that aint baloney! There's Speedy Cerviche, he's the leader of the bunch! A heck of a fighter, makes a heck of a lunch! And little Polly Esther, whose never afraid of going into battle when the bad guys invade! Here's Guido Anchovies, a wild romantic rover. This cat gets down-down with a love hangover! HERE COME THE PIZZA CATS! They're so bad, they've got more fur than any turtle ever had! They're stronger than old cheese! They're stronger than dirt! Step on their tails... Get off my tail! And you're gonna get hurt! Don't hurt me! SAMURAI PIZZA CATS! They're fighting crime! All over town! ...satisfied? Better than sex. What are you guys doing? Bug out! its the fuzz! its the five oh!

-Ahem- that's just my opinion though, of course. Your mileage may vary. Anything to contribute, Wrath? The only Jedi knights I've ever met that I talked to for more than 2 minutes without murdering them were those sex-weirdos at the Corellian temple and Jedi Chris. And Jedi Chris dates Jaesa, so case closed. What about you, Havoc? Any insight from being on the same team? "Ancient weapons and hokey religions are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid."

I actually don't know anything about Scourge, because the jedi stories are terrible. I can sort of play consular just because I know that a consular can go into his cocoon and then one day blossom into a beautiful Jedi Shadow butterfly and be one of the best classes in the game, (especially since I already play 150 force battlemaster tankasin) but that's about the limit of my patience. If there was some kind of option at level ten to just let Yuon Par choke on her Sith Force Cancer and die, I would have taken it. The story is pretty terrible and I have a hard time sympathizing with or making a connection with any of the characters. The fact that you have to spend all of chapter 1 running around curing Sith Force Cancer might be the most boring and unrewarding story ever. You might as well just reroll your consular twi'lek female, get a slave-bikini, and just pretend that chapter 1 of the consular story is about a plucky young call girl trying to make it in a big galaxy, like one of those sex worker memoirs you can pick up in bookstores all over south east asia. (By the way, don't buy those- Buy Girl Undressed instead, its one of the most powerful books ever and Ruth Fowler is a tremendous writer.) Also there's a trandoshan following me around, so I painted him red and call him Charmander. He's annoying as hell, I don't know why Bioware thought it was a good idea to make a class-first companion with that annoying, guttural, trandoshan voice. He sounds like someone took Broonmark out to the curb and did an American History X on him. If The Wrath is an indication to anyone, a word of advice- If you're thinking of rolling a Jedi Knight, DON'T. Roll a Sith Warrior instead. Darth Baras is actually an interesting mentor that turns into an interesting antagonist, your companions don't suck, and you get to be the only class in the game that actually has a moral decision that effects your companion's personality for the entire length of the game. The Jedi stories don't actually have consequences and there's nothing you do that isn't excused or whitewashed.

"This is good to know. What other things are good to know?"

SUNDAY NIGHT QUINN-ON-GIRL ACTION One word, and I hit you again. "I like her!" The Wrath shouted at the TV. Quinn only grinned. "Hey." The Wrath grinned back. "What?" He asked innocently. "You're grinning. You've got that mad glint in your eye. When you know something somebody else doesn't." The Wrath replied. "No I don't." Quinn bluffed. "You're not a very good liar." The Wrath explained, reaching her hand under the sheets. "And you're an even worse liar when you're this close." "What aren't you telling me?" The Wrath asked. "Nothing. I just think its funny that you like Ygritte." Quinn sweated. "What's not to like about her? She's manipulative, fierce, sexually aggressive... I mean the only real thing wrong with her is that she's ginger." The Wrath observed. "I think Jon Snow likes gingers." Quinn mumbled. The Wrath moved her hand up Quinn's thigh. "What aren't you telling me? You know how much it turns me on when you do your evil genius thing." "No, don't do that." Quinn squealed, referring to the part of him that was growing to meet her hand as it made its way up his thigh. "Why not?" The Wrath whispered. "You told me not to spoil it!" Quinn breathed. Suddenly the Wrath's probing hand was back in her own personal space. "Christ. Its like I can't even watch this damn show with you." "I told you, I have all the books..." Quinn protested. "And I told you, I have the attention span of a 6 year old." The Wrath huffed. "Actually, I told you that you have the attention span of a 6 year old." Quinn corrected. "Well I didn't disagree with you. How deep does this crap go anyways?" The Wrath asked. "Huh?" "How long until I catch up with you?" She explained. "They're in the second season. Dance with Dragons is 959 pages by itself. Its going to take years for you to catch up if you don't read the books." Quinn replied. "What? That's not fair! All the other girls on this show are total *****es! Cersei is a witch, Brienne is like the Incredible Hulk, Catelyn is a freakin' gilf, Sansa is a Disney Princess and Arya is only nine years old, but she's more ****** than half the cast together! The only other girl I actually like is Shae, and she's a harlot!" The Wrath moaned. "Am I gonna have to sit here for the next 3 years and watch you grin like an idiot every time the one woman on the show with a brain and a libido in the same skull comes on the screen?" "You mean Dany?" Quinn asked. "Dany hasn't been laid since Drogo. I meant Ygritte, The only girl in the seven kingdoms who acts like she's got something up her va-jay-jay instead of her ***!" "Technically she's not in the seven kingdoms." Quinn corrected. "And I wouldn't worry about the 'next three years part.'" "What?" The Wrath asked. "You told me not to spoil it." Quinn insisted. "What if I gave you a hummer?" The Wrath offered. "If I spoiled Ygritte, you'd never give me a hummer ever again." Quinn retorted. The Wrath sat for a second in quiet contemplation. "Man, 25 pages ago you had like zero boyfriend instinct. Now you're like Captain Boyfriend Supreme." "I'm a quick reader. A lot can happen in 25 pages. Especially when George RR Martin is writing." Quinn insisted. "I- What- Arrgh, forget it. Don't spoil it." The Wrath struggled. "You know nothing, Jon Snow." Quinn patted her on the head. The Wrath put on a sullen look. "Theon is a dick." "Theon is small time. Also, don't you like his sister? She's pretty on the ball." Quinn probed. "Eh, she's cool I guess. I'm still a little weirded out that she let her scumbag brother get a knuckle up her cooch. What the hell is it with this show and incest?" Quinn sighed. "What?" "You know nothing, Jon Snow." Quinn said. "That is going to get annoying." "You're going to here it more often. From Ygritte." Quinn explained. "Do I really have to read the books that bad?" The Wrath asked. Quinn grabbed her and rolled on top of her. The Wrath craned her neck upward to kiss him, but he veered to the side and put his lips to her ear. "Winter is coming." He whispered. "For all you lazy HBO couch potatoes that are too busy to read. Things will happen this season. Things you won't expect. Things you won't enjoy. Mostly, things you will never see coming. The night is dark and full of terrors, and if you don't start reading soon, you will be very, very disappointed." "Do me hard like when Stannis nailed the Red Witch on the map table, that was hot." The Wrath whispered back. And then, you all heeded Quinn's warning. Hey, little privacy here. I'm trying to get all freaked-up Westeros style. Huh? I wasn't talking to you. And that's kind of weird. Wait, you never watch me- No. You know I never write it when you insert Tab A into Slot B. We've been over this. Well I'm not gonna stop now. I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to them. You can fade to black or cut to Havoc or whatever. I was addressing the readers. What, you're gonna tell them to read the books too? I am telling you, the Wrath, and I am telling you, the readers, right now, that if you watch Game of Thrones, you need to start reading the books, and you need to start reading the books yesterday. You are going to be so butt-hurt by the end of this season if you do not get caught up. Whatever nerd. Can't read, busy getting laid. You're a fictional character. Who has freaky table-banging Game of Thrones sex with Malavai Quinn. Winter is coming, Wrath. Winter is coming.

we've been busy. there's just some things going on right now with that ******e narrator, he keeps saying something about a job interview on some crappy planet called Pawtucket in a galaxy far, far away. I just tell him to drink, that solves my problems. But all your problems all revolve around sending someone to the grocery store for another case of PBR. Well yea, its pretty rough being the most important Sith Warrior in the galaxy, second only to the Emperor himself, I mean, if I lost my buzz, I don't know what I'd do. Hey guys what's goin on in here- OOH! META TEXT! I'm out. Vette- Don't- Ah crap. Hey Wrath, check this out- Can't. doin Sith stuff. Call you later. Wrath? ...Wrath? Anybody there? no? good. CALL THE COPS, I DON'T GIVE A ****. HAHAHAHAHA! SPIN IT! Let's begin it! Bear and grin it! Spin it! OOOOH-EEEEE-AAAAAY! TALESPIN! OOOOH-EEEE-OOOOH! TALESPIN! FRIENDS FOR LIFE THROUGH THICK AND THIN WITH ANOTHER TALE TO SPIN! ALL THE TROUBLE WE GET IN WITH ANOTHER TALE TO SPIN!

Doesn't work like that around here, HOSTAGE. You don't comment, we don't write. Oh **** the narrator is coming- What are you doing? Nothing.

TUESDAY NIGHT THUNDERCATS Ancient spirits of evil, transform this decayed thread into Fan Fiction, the ever-living! "So is she hot?" Havoc1 asked, pointing at the screen. "She's a cartoon." Jorgan shrugged. "Well yea, but so is Jessica Rabbit, and Bugs Bunny when he dresses in drag." Havoc1 explained. "You think Bugs Bunny in drag is attractive?" Jorgan asked. "If I had curves like Bugs Bunny in drag, do you think I would have to settle for a Cathar?" Havoc1 rolled her eyes. "Oh, so now you're settling, lieutenant? That's low." Jorgan huffed. "Oh shut up. I would have stroked your fur the day I landed on Ord Mantell, you're the one who took forever to admit you were into this Havoc Hotness." "Because you're not supposed to fraternize with the Havoc Hotness, sir." Jorgan answered. "Oh yea sure. Fine. Hey, why don't you call up General Garza and ask her what she thinks about me ****in the help." Havoc1 grinned. "Sir?" "No seriously. If its wrong, do it. Report me to the brass. I won't stop you. See what happens, I ****in dare you." Havoc1 ran her hand down his thigh. "Is this a bluff, sir?" Jorgan asked. "No, it's Havoc squad. And Havoc squad specializes in clandestine, high value targets. Everyone I point that gun at ends up dead, one way or another, I'm batting 900. What's going to happen if I decide to maintain the morale of my subordinate officers in an unorthodox fashion? I'll tell you what will happen- Tavus is still alive. Not for long, but there's no one else to do Havoc Squad's job. I'd be surprised if I even got my hand slapped for dipping my pen in company ink. The old lady will look the other way." Havoc1 explained. "You seem awfully sure." "Well, that's because I'm casually corrupt, morally bankrupt, and have never been punished for my disregard of human life yet." Havoc1 shrugged. "I mean I probably should be, but I'll be darkside 5 by the time we finish mopping up story mode and crossing names off our little hit list." "You have a disgustingly low opinion of the Republic you vowed to protect." Jorgan sneered. "Me? No. I ****in love the Republic. It gave me a ship, a big *** gun, a career, the privilege to nail hot military guys that have to do what I say... What I have a low opinion of is Moral High Ground." Havoc1 grinned back. "Without Moral High Ground, what makes us different from the Empire then?" Jorgan asked. "What a stupid question- Hot alien sex, obviously. They're only into humans over there. And Chiss. But nobody's going to give the Chiss any credit for another 3,000 years, until that Thrawn guy is born." Havoc1 explained. "Should you really break the 4th wall like that?" Jorgan looked concerned. "You just made yourself an accessory." Havoc1 grinned. "Forget it." Jorgan shrugged. "So Cheetara. Is she hot?" "She's a cartoon." "But if she wasn't?" "I guess she would be pretty attractive." Jorgan shrugged. "Oh come on. I know you weren't a virgin before me, you certainly don't **** like it. What kind of Cathar girls are you into?" Havoc1 ground her hips into Jorgan. "Why do you want to know?" "I'm curious! What do Cathar guys think is hot?" "You're pretty hot." Jorgan flirted. "Well I know that, I'm a Zabrak girl. Our species is the hottest." Havoc1 explained. "How humble of you." "But you would date her." "Who?" "Cheetara." "The cartoon girl?" "Yes, dammit. The only adult female Thundercat. Her name is Cheetara." "I guess. I mean I don't really have a thing for blondes. Or her weird David Bowie face tats." "I have weird face tats!" Havoc1 gasped. "Yes, but you're my CO." Jorgan admitted. "Good catch, sergeant." "She's just a cartoon though, I don't understand your obsession." "I just think its funny that my sergeant-with-benefits is a cartoon character, is all." Havoc1 grinned. "I am not a cartoon character. I'm a sergeant in Republic Spec Force." Jorgan insisted. "Right. So if I told you to smite my loins with your Sword of Omens, would that offend you?" Havoc1 asked. "Sir." "What if while we were doing it, I started shouting 'SNARF! SNARF! SNARF!' While I was in the moment." "Please don't ever do that." Jorgan sighed. "Can I call you Lion-O?" "No." "Tigra?" "No." "Panthro?" "I actually kind of like Panthro. He's the only character in this cartoon I identify with." Jorgan admitted. "Do you want to have sex, Panthro?" Havoc1 asked. "Please use my real name." Jorgan sighed. "I didn't hear you say no!" Havoc1 rolled on top of Jorgan in the bed. "THUNDERCATS ARE ON THE MOVE THUNDERCATS ARE LOOSE!" Jorgan immediately removed his mouth from her skin and grabbed her wrist. "Please don't sing that song while we have sex." "Its that or Meow Mix again." Havoc1 grinned. Jorgan sighed, then rolled her over so that he was on top. "Fine. Anything but the *********** Meow Mix song." "FEEL THE MAGIC HEAR THE ROAR! THUNDERCATS ARE LOOSE!" You're a *****, you know that right? Who, me? OH ****! META TEXT! THUNDER! THUNDER! THUNDER! THUNDER CATS! Will you stop that? I'm trying to talk to you... HEY CHECK THIS OUT- SWORD OF OMENS, GIVE ME SIGHT BEYOND SIGHT! Oh come on! ANCIENT SPIRITS OF EVIL, TRANSFORM THIS DECAYED FORM INTO MUMM-RA, THE EVER-LIVIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNnNnNnGggg Oh wow that *****ly cat tongue feels good right there, I am gonna have to make him do that more often. Screw it, I give up.