Photo Caption Results

The results are finally in! But if you lost and still want some hot Photo Caption action, visit my blog.

Photo #1

Ando: "Take my picture and I clobber you!" - Mr. Bennet
Honorable Mention:
Hiro: "Mmmm... that waffle looks tasty."
Ando: "Mmmm... so does that waitress!" - Jana B

Photo #2

Police officer w/ pen: "What's a 3 letter word for "needs to get a life"?
Charlie: "You" - Kenny
Honorable Mention:
"Ok what's a 5 letter word for "eating establishment?" - Tarot

Photo #3

Ando: "I don't care what you say, that's not me punching those babies." - Mooskers J. Featherbottom III
Honorable Mentions:
Ando: "Nathan's my dad?!" - Anonymous
"I still don't see the 3-D picture." - Claire
"Even it has bangs?!?!" - Mr. Bennet

Photo #4

"Raise your hand if you're Sure." (Also available as a roll on.) - Nathan Petrelli
Honorable Mentions:
Charlie: "Wow, you really are a teapot!" - Mr. Bennet
"Yes that's Japanese for "Disco!" - Tarot

Photo #5

Charlie: "Oops, I spilled the chocolate syrup. Better play dead." - Claire
Honorable Mentions:
She was voted by her class; most likely to die a horrible death and not mess up her hair and makeup. - Matthew
CSI person: "Well, apparently she died from losing all the blood in her arm." - Val
And this is why, we, at Burnt Toast Diner, mop before we close for the day. - Anonymous

Wow! If I weren't a prisoner of a paper company right now, I'd probably be laughing.

Special Announcement

from The Chef
You know, people always think we're just a buncha hicks here at Burnt Toast. But truth be known, we're a very cultured people. And to prove it, we're having a poetry contest here on this very blog. Some of your favorite regulars will be putting poems up for your consideration. You will get to vote at the end and pick the winner. So be sure to tune in to our blog.

Prison Blues

I was able to get away from my cell to post this entry. It been a rough few days here. I am used to being the center of the whole world. Now I have to fight for attention with other ugly beings. I am used to having control of the TV. I miss blogging and talking to all my friends online. I miss Mommy the most.

I hate it here. I want to go home.

A typical day in prison goes like this:
Some hype active woman wakes me up early. If I try to bite her I get a time out so that's out of the question. She act so happy like she just high on sugar high. She brings me my morning meal. This prison gives their prisoners some organic food. AKA some nasty food. I had tofu Turkey this morning. I wanted to throw up on the woman's cotton shirt.

After my meal, the hyper active warden takes me for a walk. She brings me some room dressed as a garden. They have fake grass. It looks real because I tried to eat a piece and realized it not the real thing. I hear natures sounds but I think they come from a CD. In the middle of this "garden" is a water fountain. I like to spend most of my time in this fountain just to tick off the staff. When one of the wardens walk up to me, I like to accidentally splash them. It kinda fun.

Next is my brunch. Same organic food.

After brunch, I have my daily bath. This guy is not as good as my gal. First off, he like the honey soap. I think it organic soap. I hate to smell like I rolled around a bucket of honey. Second, He uses lukewarm water on me. He is very rough with rubbing soap on my soft fur. Finally, when he dries me, he brushes my fur so hard. I really want to bit him.

By the time I am done with him, I am ready for my daily massage. It feel so good. It the only bright spot in this prison. It seems to go by so quick.

Another dinner of organic food and a trip to the "garden".

At the end of all this. They put me in my cell. They turn on a TV to some pet show with some stupid dog running around some retarded boy. I want to watch MY shows. I am missing all the good celebrity gossip. Who did New York pick on I Love New York? What going on American Idol and America's Next Top Model? I am going crazy here. Please tell me what going on in this world right now?

The Figmentation of Cyber Aquaintances

In all of cyberspace, there exists more humans than anyone could imagine. Anyone but someone from my country. For my people, as you most assuredly know, are many. It is possible that India is the only country outnumbering the denizens of cyberville.

Having spent my childhood and beyond there, perusing the marketplace, mingling with the mindless peasants that would walkabout like wandering weasels woefully practicing and honing their meandering ability, I know a thing or two, but honestly a lot more than that, about people.

And yet the congregation of many outside my home, filling the streets of my town, had not prepared me for the society I would meet on the Internet. How could they? They had no knowledge, no concept, of cyberspace. They could not hide behind an anonymous Internet Protocol number as they strike out with razor-sharp wit lashing at lightening-speed, accounting for typing and a read-over prior to hitting enter, mind you.

No, these were what one may call real people. They were not merely figments of a cyber imagination, frolicking in the mind of a computerized community serving as a cognitive center of cyber-thoughts and pseudo-actions.

Living life is easy with eyes closed, yet even easier when all senses are interpreted, relayed, through computerized circuitry, supplying us with the reality which we want to see. And in this reality, how many friends can one truly possess? Would it depend on merely the size of one's database? Or how loosely one defines 'friend'?

I would confess to you that I have many cyber acquaintances myself, and yet, where are they now? For when one is sporked to a ceiling, there is no digital means for stepping in to lend a hand. One cannot take a bullet for their companion when their only means of connection is a telephonic circuit. Would a true friend, a non-figment, sit idly by and perhaps even laugh out loud at my humiliating situation? Would they perhaps roll on the floor and laugh their posterior off? I would think not. Yet the course of action for a digital buddy is greatly limited by his or her emoticon set.

It is now that I find myself realizing the true falsehood of this medium of a so-called social outlet. And yet, as it seems computers often do, it mirrors reality, human life and mentality, so well.

For if these figment friends are merely a numeric ghost of ones and zeros, then too might each and every real person, of flesh and blood, be a mental phantom created by one's very own brain itself. And while we may strive to interact with these supposed people, can we? Do they exist? Or are they, as are the cyberville residents, figments of a macrocosmic mechanism?

I will NEVER be a Vivian....

OMG! I am totally gonna miss the Burnt Toast Diner. Like, the waffles there were the total hotness. My Dad totally sent me away with this Haitian guy who’s all “You must leave the Country, Claire” And I’m all like “No, I want to see that Kinda Cute Peter Petrelli again” and He was all like “No, you really can’t cause you have to be Vivian” And I was all like “No, Vivian is a freaky dork’s name!”

Come on! Vivian? Vivian? It was so horrible that I had to go in the bathroom and started banging my head against the wall. You will never know how good blood is as a face Moisturizer. The hydration is insane. The absolutely bestest way to tell when you have enough is when brain matter actually starts dripping down your eyes, then it’s time to rinse. After that autopsy I was covered in it and my skin never felt better, like never ever ever. I was barefoot and naked in the middle of the morgue but my pores were so small.

N.E wayz. Who gets a fake name like Vivian? I should totally be like Paris Reid Lohan. And what about Zack?!? Who will he practices his weird Wiccan rituals with? I was seriously his only supply of human blood cause he was absolutely all drama queen about actually cutting himself with a needle and I was all like “OMG, I’ve totally broken my neck before, you sissy!” Every time he wants to call up the wind or some stupid crap like that I have to lose a freakin’ limb and he’s all like “Jeez, it will grow back! Cause you’re little miss miracle grow ha ha ha LOL.” I swear if I hear Ms, Miracle Grow again I will rip one of my arms off and bash someone with it. You will not believe how absolutely sharp a shattered bone can be. I almost totally slit that jerk, Brody’s throat with my pinky toe bone.

So, the Haitian guy is like “Get on the plane, Claire, ugh, I mean Vivian, God *French that I really don’t understand* and I’m like “I totally wanna check out that fab necklace you have cause I’ve seen that freaky deaky symbol everywhere” And he was like “French French French, okay but you’re still totally getting on that plane cause the mysterious phone person said that you had to and I don’t argue with the mysterious voice. Don’t make me *French, French, French French* you” And I was like “Oh my god! Testy much!?!!??!?! And then he was all like “I haven’t taken an exam in years” and then I was so like “Got your passport!” And he was like “ I really have to go with that mischievous little blond because she’s totally my daughter, Mr. Security man with a huge gun, here let me fondle your head” And I was totally like “See you later, I have to find my Kinda Cute Petrelli cause he’s the only one who could possibly understand being a freak like me even though you suck thoughts out of people’s brain, My Kinda Cute Petrelli is the only one who will ever understand the agony and angst of being me!”

So weak...want...waffles...goodbye cruel world...!

Darkness. Depression. The emptiness of my stomach. Oh God, why did Sanjaya have to stay on American Idol for another week? Now I must carry on my hunger strike for another...two days. Until Thursday. When he'll hopefully be voted off. OH GOD WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LET SANJAYA STAY. Is it because you want revenge on Your Son for being a vampire hunter? WHY, GOD, WHY. This boy is worse than the ten plagues. He's like all ten plagues rolled into one. His singing voice turns water to blood and kills the first-born with its horrific intensity.

Okay, so maybe I'm exagerrating -- but only a little bit.

Comrade Lenin is still taking over Los Angeles in an attempt to hunt down Simon Cowell (or Sanjaya -- whoever he gets to first, really). I've gotten so desperate in my search for casting a new lead in my show that I've joined the ranks of the damned (hey, Dick Cheney would fit the role of Sweeney Todd perfectly, come to think of it...) I beat Jesus at cards (sorry, Jesus! I needed the money). Now God is punishing me by using the speed dial in heaven to keep Sanjaya in this god-forsaken competition because God laughs at me every time I try a new diet. God is obsessed with Dial Idol results. I think he wants to enlist Sanjaya in his eternal struggle against the devil since he thinks Sanjaya has the voice of an angel -- or maybe a voice that sounds soothing to the ears of the Hounds of Hell. I shudder to even think of it.

This Sanjaya Diet really really sucks. Can't eat anything. The world is turning into darkness. My hair has been covering my face for the last two days, which I've spent talking to anonymous people on my webcam being all emotional. Why does existence have to be so bland. Why, why must you have sucked me into your dreadful grasp, American Idol?! Why have you stolen me from what really matters? (I'M STILL COMING TO SAVE YOU, MY LOVE!) Life is so tragic. Are we all not players in the great game of Go Fish! that God has laid out for us? What if you don't have any queens? Or twos? Or even aces? Will you not be granted your salvation?

Great, there I go hallucinating about card games again. At least I have Devil Bush and his vampire cohort to keep me company. Devil Bush is so silly. He has a lot of spare time on his hands when he goes to his "secret ranch" in Texas. To cheer me up out of my sudden bout of emo-ness, he made me a Mohinder Trap:

So he got the spelling off a little bit. It's a big name. But I like the concept! I plan on luring him out of his apartment and off the ceiling with a piece of cheese. From India. If I can get some imported. Do they even make cheese in India? I thought they worshipped cows there. Come to think of it, I could never worship a cow. Unless it was already turned into a hamburger. Mmm. Hamburgers. ...I can't take this diet much longer. I might be forced to chew through Mohinder's ceiling to save him. But somehow I don't think stucco and drywall taste all that appetizing. God is punishing me for having eaten too many George Foreman grilled waffles of virtue as a child. Either that, or maybe it's a sign that in order to fit into Mohinder's apartment (which I really hope he hasn't changed the layout of -- I put so much work into turning it pink and all Valentiney for our honeymoon, you know), I have to slim down enough to fit through the doorway first. Hmmm. Well, I'm not really one who's much for theological discussion and/or thought. Sometimes I think God just likes to laugh at me. Er...with me. Whatever.

In the meantime, Bushie, Cheney, and I are all on our merry way to save Mohinder, frolicking down the yellow brick road of destiny (I really want some waffles). I guess I could be the Cowardly Lion, Cheney could be the Tin Man, and Bushie could be the Scarecrow. I'm kind of timid and enjoy rapidly waddling away from a fight, I think Mr. Cheney could use a heart (y'know, with the whole undead thing going on, a heart might be useful), and Bushie could use a brain (maybe man-catlady could spare one?)

But mostly I hope that Sanjaya gets voted off this week. I don't know how much more starvation I can take before I lose another pound. My pounds are my only friends. OH GOD, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SPARE SANJAYA FROM BEING VOTED OFF? My life is coming to an end. The darkness is descending. Life without waffles is not worth living. GOODBYE, CRUEL WORLD! I'm going to drown my sorrows in several wine coolers now. Vamp Cheney is really hankering for a Bloody Mary, and I hope he doesn't mean me.

Ew.

~ Lana

Incompetence

My beautiful Nathan told me about this little hole in the wall pancake and coffee place called the Burnt Toast Diner. Why would they advertise the fact that they can’t make toast? It seems rather silly to advertise the fact that your diner can not properly heat bread.

I have no earthly idea why my dear boy considered this…restaurant to reach my culinary standards. The décor is deplorable and those uniforms, my God. Don’t these people have stylists? No one can wear that shade of pink. It’s like something off the rack. Nevertheless, I suppose I shall reserve judgment until I try one of these little waffle creations. Perhaps the fare can make up for the absolutely horrid furnishings. This entire shop needs to be feng shui’ed.

Where’s the service in this place?

Where are the waitresses?

What is that tacky little candle/flower stand doing in the middle of a diner?

It seems like ineptitude follows me around… That little strumpet just walked past me. Did she just…did she just have the nerve to walk away from me and ignore me when I wanted service? Does she not know who I am? Does she not understand the power of the Petrelli name?!!?!

Incompetence! I am surrounded by incompetence. Not just here but everywhere. My precious Nathan’s staff can’t seem to protect him from horrid little leeches like that filthy little Meredith and that little blond strumpet that Linderman sent after him. And my staff?!?! They are the worst of them all. All I asked that brain-washing Haitian to do was smuggle my super-powered granddaughter out of the country after shooting and erasing her adoptive father’s memory after her entire family was taken hostage by a radioactive psycho. Is that so hard? Was that simple task really so complicated? I expect dedication! Perseverance! He should have erased the memory of every smarmy little security guard in little podunk airport to protect my precious Nathan’s progeny! And the little brat picked his pocket!

I wasn’t expecting her to look so much like that tramp Meredith. Maybe we’ll dye her hair a nice Petrelli brunette. I wonder if that would help Nathan’s campaign. I suppose it might do to replace Heidi. That wheelchair doesn’t really do anything for Nathan’s chances in office. And he will be in office. He will be a congressman if I have to make that Haitian erase the memory of the other candidate in the minds of every single…I need to practice my yoga breaths my life coach taught me… Honestly, I really can’t believe she had the nerve to come looking for my darling Peter! Well, I shall enjoy disabusing her of that particular notion!

Photo Caption Contest

Well, I did this on my blog and it's a lot of fun! It helps me pass the time sitting in my Primatech cell. It's still going on, so check out my blog and post your captions!

But, I was talking to the Chef and asked him if he had any pictures he'd want to use for a Burnt Toast Diner Photo Caption Contest. He gave me a ton of great ones. I looked through them all and chose the ones below.

So, commment your captions and the Chef will announce winners later.

Rules:

1. Comment!!
2. PG-13ish, in case Claire is reading
3. Be the bestest and funniest and wittiest!

Comment your captions for as many of the Photos as you can. There will be a winner for each one! Well, here they are:

Photo #1

Photo #2

Photo #3

Photo #4

Photo #5

Gargoyles

You know it's odd, but I've always had a fascination with gargoyles. I used to have quite a collection of them, too. I never found them creepy, just fascinating and exotic. I had several up on high shelves back home overlooking my doors. Rather helpful at helping me scare off unwanted sales people. I always wanted to go check out the ones that are rumored to be on the great cathedral of Notre Dame. Like this one:I have to wonder how they made him. All the carving etc. What inspired them to make him that way? Was there some creature that looked a bit like that and they extrapolated off of it? And then I gotta wonder how you get something like that up there, without the benefit of modern construction equipment either! Well, maybe I'll go someday. I hope they have a secure place you can look at them from, because I'm not so big on heights! I dunno if my interest is because I'm goth or that I used to work 11-7, but I think I've always liked gargoyles. And not just the Disney variety either, though I do have to say that Demona was a favorite of mine.
Yeah, I do recall she was evil and out to kill all the humans but it was an amusing cartoon just the same. I'm not sure why I've recalled this hobby of mine, just now. Maybe it's the fact that I've been spending so much time up on the roof lately that has me thinking about my fascination with stoney gothic guardians. Or maybe it's watching my feathered pals fly all day. I'm not sure what it is but I just can't get them out of my head. I didn't dream of them, mind you, though my dreams are bizarre enough in and of themselves!
No, before you ask I didn't see the movie that Sci-Fi channel ran, but some folks who did told me that I didn't miss much. I'm still thinking about the reasons why, as I type this, and can't quite figure out what has made me recall this hobby of mine at this present point in time, but, seeing as everyone else seems to be sharing, I figured that I might as well. And, while we're on the subject, let me just say to any vampires out there, just remember this:
Don't make me stake you...

Buzzed Reflections

Spending time in this hell hole got me thinking about my life. I began to think about what I could have done with it. Why am I here at the drag club prop room with a bad hangover?

Sometimes I wish I would have had a child. Maybe I could have taught him to ride a bike. I could have took him to his first pub or showed him how to kick another guy's arse. The only relationship I had with a child was my former best friend Bennet's daughter Claire.

I remember when we first saw her. Her witch of a mother blew up on me. The fire got on my nice trousers. Bennet went in and grabbed the little girl out of her crib. I could tell from the minute Bennet first held her that he was going to raise her as his own. He wouldn't admit it, but it was true. He tried asking me advice on how to take care of the child, but I didn't know jack crap. Did he think I had some child running around England that I take care of on the weekends?

Once he adopted Claire, he quit going to the pub with me. Which was fine with me. I was tired of him getting washed after a few drinks. I think I was more sober after seven drinks than he was after two.

One night, drinking alot, I realized Claire rhymed with Bear. After I left the bar and got back to my flat, I left myself a note to remind myself to get a cute bear for Claire. I could be a nice uncle to her. There is a chance she could have powers like me. Plus, she was kinda cute in a odd way. I jotted down the note and passed out on the floor.

When I woke up the next moring, I found a note saying this:

"Buy Small Beer for Claire Beer"

I thought what the Hell did I drink? After ten minutes, I was able to decode the note. I headed out to the local Toys R Us.

Walking into the toy store made me want to throw up. It was so brightly painted. The colours on the wall were so neon. I didn't have a clue where I could find a bear.

I went up some pimply-face wanker. "Excuse me, where are your stuffed Bears" I asked

"Uh, huh?" replied the kid

"Stuffed Bears" I asked again

"You mean Care Bears" He answered me

"What is a Care Bear?" I replied

"It is a brightly coloured bear" He answered back

"OK, Where are these Care Bears?"

He pointed to the end of the store. I followed his finger. As I was getting closer to the back, the store paint began to get pinker and pinker. I saw ton of display of Barbie dolls.I didn't realized that they made so many types of Barbies.

My favorite was LSD Barbie. The outfit like that something a crackhead painter would paint. I don't think even that sissy would wear that dress.

And then I saw it.

It was setting at the end of a display. Maybe it was my hangover but its face said to me "Claude, pick me!" There were other bears but this one was perfect. I wanted a bear to be there for her when she cried or when she had tea and biscuit parties. I did see the Care Bears and thought they looked like rather shallow buggers.

When I gave the bear to Miss Claire, she smiled at me and for that one moment I felt like a real person
.

Vampire Peter

Hi guys. Peter here. Sorry for my long absence. I have been traumatized by the loss of my lock of hair, one of the few things I had to live for in this terribly waking world. You see, sometimes, those awesomely emo bangs would fall in front of my eyes, hiding my visiono from the death that is the world. Those moments, moments when I was hidden from the true nature of the world, moments with hair in my eyes, were my few moments of sanity.

On top of my hair travesty, I am kind of incapacitated at the moment. No, not by sporks, more by this professor's mind numbing conversation that has too much to do with destiny and not enough to do with sadness and pain. God, how can someone devote their life to research and intelligence when there is so much darkness in the world? Razorblades. Fog. New moon. Such is Peter.

In order to try to keep myself from listening to his mind numbing, empty talk, I have taken to daydreaming, a world I can mold to be my own. Of course, I do not eliminate suffering from my daydreamed world, for I have never known such a life. There have always been lacerations. Dislocated shoulders. High cholestoral. Metaphorical medical conditions of course, but you get the idea.

Anyways, in my daydreams, I am Vampire Peter. It is the perfect state for me. I am dead, so my constant wishes of suicide are fulfilled (OH GOD SIMONE, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE ME? DON'T YOU THINK OF ANYONE BUT YOURSELF?!). Yet while dead I still exist in a constant state of perpetual suffering and misery. The perfect life, or unlife, or whatever.



But I wouldn't be one of those evil vampires, sucking blood of the innocent and hurting people. I couldn't do that. I am a nurse, after all. I'd be one of those totally awesome emo vampires. Like Angel. Except skinnier. And more sensitive. And less manly. And with more mascara.

My daydreams have been totally awesome. As Vampire Peter I would stand on high skyscrapers, staring out at the moon. I'm deep like that. Deep. Poetic. Sexy Sylar. I would fly over the city. There was a drought going on. I needed to save the day. No problem. I found other people whose girlfriends who just broke up with them and bit their necks and turned them into vampires. Together we would fly over the city and cry about our losses, giving rain to the city. Tears. Fussy. I need to be burped. Such is Peter.

Maybe one of these "heroes" I come across will have the power of vampirism. To be able to absorb that would be awesome, in a totally terrible, painful kind of way.

She lives!

After the whole fiasco with the Cat Lady I thought I’d finally be able to get back to Micah and DL. Jessica’s been quiet for a while; I wonder what she’s up to. Anyways, any thought of heading back was forgotten when I got to the shore.

I was exhausted, all those ninja skills sure did take a toll on my beautiful body, so I sat in the sand. I was so relieved that the woman who had haunted my childhood dreams was now cat food at the bottom of the sea. Now I could finally live in peace. Get back to DL, make sure Micah was coming out of his weenie phase, and maybe think about having another little weenie! Maybe a girl?

Well, that was all forgotten when the bushes rustled behind me. I turned, and there they were! The eyes I’d faced at the Scratching post of Doom! HER eyes. They had to be!

That’s when Sylar and the holy man came up from the surface, and when I turned back to the bush, the eyes were gone again. But I know she’s alive! Somehow she survived! My vengeance is not complete!

The holy man didn’t seem to be moving, and it took Sylar’s power to see how things work to figure out he was dead. It’s too bad, I was almost starting to like the guy, when he wasn’t reading scripture aloud in hopes of knocking the Atheism out of me.

Now I’m sitting back, enjoying a cup of Hazelnut coffee and a chocolate chip muffin at some diner. I’m sorry to say it’s not Burnt Toast, the muffins here aren’t half as good. But sometime you need to settle, and it’s the grand opening, so at least the coffee’s free.

Sylar was in a pretty snappy mood earlier, he said something like “NEED BRAINZ lolz” before taking off. I wonder if it’s his time of the month. I picked him up a chocolate bar just in case. Nothing like chocolate to make a girl feel better! Hopefully he’ll do what ever he needs to do so we can get rid of the holy man’s body. It’s starting to smell funny in that truck. The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can find Simon. The Cat Lady had to have headed back there. I’ve heard Simon pays in cat nip.

withdrawal!

omg SHUT UP i cant even think. my LEAVE ME ALONE ILL KILL YOU lack of brainz iz rly starting 2 get 2 me. im so wound up i cant even say lol, lol. oops i just loled lol. well mayb just those 1 times lol but thatz it! i had 2 take a break from my simon hunt 2 get sum fresh brainz! i mean sure ive had sum monkey brainz n sum kitty brainz n even sum suspected muslim terrorist brainz but I NEED A BRAINZ FIX those dont rly cut it i knead sum genuine heroes brainz!

unfortunately the hot dr mohindy is sporked 2 the ceiling at the moment so i dont haf such easy access 2 special peeps nemore. i am gonna haf 2 rely on my intution alone! n thatz not so good. but luckily my intution WUZ good 4 1 thing n that wuz random pop BRAINZ culture references!

so i pulled out my pop culture references notebook n started looking thru. i knew that VAMPIRIC VESTIBULES 1 of these peeps wud haf 2 have SUM pwr. and then i stumbled upon the 1. it wuz him! carl weathers! a guy that awsum had 2 have a pwr! hear u kin see 1 of his finest performances.







well i went 2 find him wear i new he BOLERO BRAIN BITER wud be. the set of his knew movie rocky 7 lolz! he wuz playing the roll of zombie apollo creed rezzed by milo ventimiglia who had bcome a priest so he cud rez zombie apollo!

newayz wen i met w/ carl i cud totally tell he wuz broken. so i proofed that i had a pwr by totally stickin my face in his hot tub I NEED SPECIALNESS OMG 4 a whole min 2 show that i cud breath underwtr! w/ my pwr proofed i cud totally axe wut his pwr wuz!

me!: hmmm. ur last name is weathers. i got it! u kin control the whether! totally awsum lolz!

The Man: Wow, good guess! I wonder where you got that idea, it was close! My actual power though, is predicting the weather!

me!: omg like a meteorologist or sumthing!

The Man: :chortles: Hahaha, that's a good one, but wrong. More like an Indian.

me!: like mohindy?!

The Man: No, like Squanto.



me!: or pocahantas!

The Man: Uh, sure.

me!: so does that pwr rly u no do nething?

The Man: Hell yes it does! It makes me the perfect tornado chaser! In fact, I was up for the main role in Twister. Damn Bill Paxton. Everything he touches turns to gold! There was no way they were turning him down once he auditioned. Plus, his character doesn't die, and I'm kind of type cast as "big black guy who gets killed off."

me!: hmmm. i guess thats kinda a decent TERRIBLE BUT I NEED BRAINS pwr. good enuf!

i tore off carls skull n ate his brain. oh heaven! it wuz like a triple fudge banana split sunday! mmmm mmm so good! i had nvr had a brian so good. thank u carl. evn tho u haf a totally useless pwr u totally alleviated my brain fix! well that wuz fun lol. now bck 2 the simon hunt lolz! toodles!

Cyber Evil

Well, I guess Ted and Matt didn't do a very good job! I know I shouldn't have left them alone!!

But something interesting has come from the situation! Bennet is switching sides!!!

I hope it's not a trap! Or a joke! I was possibly moments away from ridding the world of one of its biggest evil-doers! Both in size and ego!!

I was deep in Simon Cowell's lair when I got the urgent message. I had no choice but to leave immediately!! Hopefully that girl I saw can take care of Simon on her own!!!

Now, I've been planning. Planning and eating waffles!!

How can I rescue Bennet? Should I trust him or spit in his face?

Perhaps both!!

This has been difficult. Planning is hard work!! I need to take my mind of it, then come back with a fresh start!

So, I want to warn you of a new conspiracy!!

It's the evil-doer known only as CNET!! CNET has been around for many years and they have slowly been taking over the Internet! They currently own a sinister plethora (the worst kind of plethora!) of evil sites!:

BNET
CHOW (Working with the Chinese!!)
CNET Channel
GameSpot (This spot doesn't play games!)
International Media Sites (World Domination!!!!)
MP3.com
mySimon (A partnership with the evil Simon Cowell, no doubt!!)
Search.com (Just what do they want to find???)
TechRepublic (Sounds like a revolution plan to me!)
TV.com (The most evil of evil sites!)
Webshots (Soon they'll be webshooting you!)
ZDNet

They're so evil they even own the domain name com.com!

When I saw this banner, I knew I'd have to take action!



We have to stop them before they kill your mom and eat her legs!!! Yes, that's their plan. I recovered this email from The.Man@cnet.com:

To: Employees
From: The Man

Soon, my babies, soon it will be time! We will kill their moms and eat their moms' legs. We must continue to grow our network, and encompass the entire Internet. We will rule the world! And you will all finally get health benefits!

-The Man

What can we do? We can fight back! Throw rocks!!! Torch buildings!! Send emails!!!!

Send out an email to these addresses requesting that CNET stops being evil!:

jarl.mohn@cnet.com
neil.ashe@cnet.com
shelby.bonnie@cnet.com
eric.robison@cnet.com
cammeron.mclaughlin@cnet.com
gloria.lee@cnet.com
support@tv.com
support@cnet.com

If they don't comply, then we'll have no choice but to destroy them!! As much as I'd like to do that, I haven't the time right now! I have to rescue the man in horn-rimmed glasses!!!

New Hire

My fellow citizens:

Over the past week, it has been brought to my attention (via Mr. Muggles) that my inadvertent, insensitive nature could cost me at the polls. After speaking with my campaign manager, it has been determined that a new staff member will be hired. His name is Scott McClellen, and his official title is PRCC, (Public Relations Crap Corrector.) The job of a PRCC entails examining every comment that I make; and if is determined that my comment was offensive he will be responsible for explaining what I really meant say or should have said.

If the name McClellen sounds familiar to you, it may be because he used to work for our current President, Mr. Bush. Mr. McClellen’s first attempt at crap correction for the President followed this statement: "Too many OBGYNs are not able to practice their...uhh...love with women all across this country." Mr. McClellen immediately went to work and issued a statement explaining what the President really meant to say, which was: “Women are free to practice love with the assurance that it will be possible to find a good OBGYN.” (It was a classic.) Mr. McClellen finally left his position in the White House when the amount of crap he had to correct exceeded 200 public statements a day. Now, Mr. McClellen has agreed to join my staff and will serve me in the same function as he served the President. In a statement made earlier today, Mr. McClellen said, "I do not foresee the same amount of work load, even though my friends think I have jumped from the frying pan into the fire.”

I don’t really know why I mentioned that last part. I’ll have McClellen correct that later today... Anyway, I put Mr. McClellen to work immediately and he has agreed to type out an explanation of my true sentiments to the following statements:

"I was assaulted by the most deplorable Odor. I turned around to see what was causing the smell, and that is when I saw IT…"

What Mr. Petrelli meant to say was: “I was overwhelmed by the most delightful aroma. I turned around to see what was causing the smell, and that is when I was captivated by…”

"It was the biggest rat that I have ever seen."

What Mr. Petrelli meant to say was: “It was the most beautiful and rare breed of dog that I have ever seen.”

“I noticed it had a collar. I think it is called Mr. Muffins…I couldn't tell; and I didn’t want to get closer...Humph…A collar…Oh…My…Lord…Do all under-privileged people domesticate their rats?"

What Mr. Petrelli meant to say was: “Help. I am being forced to say this at gun point. If I do not comply, terrorist will kill my family.”

...Well…Thank You, Mr. McClellen for clarifying my statements. With all of this said, I hope that we can all move on to new prospects and great futures. The future of politics is upon us. I hope, Mr. Muggles, we can one day put all of these misunderstandings behind us. Perhaps if we do, we can combine our special talents, and a new life will be available to you. http://www.whitehouse.gov/barney/.

Thank you

Nathan Petrelli

Future Congressman

I Heart E.W.C.W.S.P.

Ladies and gents, I am proud to announce that I have recovered from my little bout of depression. It took a little bit of soul-searching and several dozen of my patented bologna sandwiches, but yesterday I was able to stand up and smile for the first time in weeks.

But let me digress a little. If you haven't been reading up, I had been thrown into a fit of rage over the possibility of my wife cheating on me with a certain @#$#@$@#$@ politician. After these rumors turned out to be true, my rage quickly fizzled into feelings of powerlessness and depression. I took a leave of absence from work, and lay in bed sucking on my thumb and nibbling on bologna sandwiches. I couldn't even muster up the emotional strength to use my rice cooker! Instead, I had to make the sandwiches in the toaster. Can you believe that?

It occurred to me that the only way I was going to get through all of this was to surround myself with activity and to lose myself in my work, so I returned to the Burnt Toast Diner. That's when everything changed...

While I was busing a table where, unfortunately, my good old friend "Big Sammy" was sitting, out of the corner of my eye I caught the strangest of sites. A stunning brunette with small boobs had just transformed into a weird-looking middle-aged dude with horn-rimmed glasses! In this disguise, she then started asking around about some cheerleader. I totally forgot about my friend, who was still yelling at me about some dog, and stared after the new love of my life.

I watched from a window as she left the diner, threw off her disguise and walked to her car, kicking a cat out of her path and stealing a lollipop from a baby on her way there. Ooohhh she was bad to the bone, and it was completely riveting. Heat flared up in my heart (and my loins) as I watched her throw back her head and laugh as she reversed over a badger and drove away.

I have to admit that I have a problem; I am completely smitten for E.W.C.W.S.P. -- Evil White Chicks With Super-Powers. My new-found love (I still have yet to find out what her name is) has allowed me to move on with my life after my wife's actions. I have come to accept her desire for an open relationship -- so far she has been schmoozing with a congressman and a psychotic killer -- and I intend on doing the same.

My shape-shifting, reality-altering love, I will pursue you to the ends of the Earth, and to the tops of the tallest mountains! I looooooove you!

Lost in a place called "Texas"

I decided to stop at this cozy little Diner for a rest due to my trip to see Dr. Suresh and his mental patient ran into a hitch, I don't know where he is. However, this place is great! They have Wi-Fi here and everything so I got my laptop and ordered some Waffles. I was a little leery when I saw the cook using a rice cooker to make bologna sandwiches. Come on! ::Everyone:: knows that you make bologna sandwiches in a toaster. Still, these waffles are damn tasty! I wonder what their recipe is...

Waffles, oh how I love thee. Can there be a more perfect food on this planet? You are the Lennon, the FDR, not the PS3, the best of all foods.

Eating has given me time to think, that is, when my navigator George isn't talking. You know for a pink elephant he sure can be gabby, "Why did we have to leave home?", "Why can't we stop for a break?", or "Don't worry, they'll never find the body." Even so I'm glad to have him around, he chases away the leprechauns that tell me to burn things.


Damn leprechauns, got me fired (literally and figuratively) from my last job. "Just a little fire", they said. "No one will notice" they said.



I haven't been to Texas since I went to a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert back in college, which wasn't that nice a trip due to the fact that my friends never showed up. I wonder what happened to them... I was only going with them because I was having the exterminator fumigate my apartment for goblins and needed to stay in a hotel anyway.

Did you know goblins looooove the inside of walls? And cheese, almost as much as I love waffles.

Meh, I have other problems to deal with, and waffles to finish. I'll see about finding Dr. Suresh soon though, I wonder if any of the fellow diners here might know his whereabouts? I doubt there's too many Sureshes around...

I also hear that in nearby Odessa there's a fascinating paper company that I'll just have to visit while I'm in the area!

Dear Mr. Nathan Petrelli

I was deeply offended by some of the comments you made in your last post. You say that you are unintentionally offensive to 14% of the voting public. I am part of 14%. Let me correct you on some of your statements.

"I was assaulted by the most deplorable Odor.I turned around to see what was causing the smell, and that is when I saw IT…"

Excuse me, Are you 100% sure that I was the cause of this odor? I just recently had my weekly pampering. My girl used lavender and chamomile on me. Don't you fly though smog and bird waste? You were probably smelling yourself.

"It was the biggest rat that I have ever seen."

For someone so smart, you can't tell the difference between a rodent and a Pomeranian. I took the liberty to look them up for you. I even add pictures for you to compare. Here what I found:

Rodent
–adjective
1. belonging or pertaining to the gnawing or nibbling mammals of the order Rodentia, including the mice, squirrels, beavers, etc.
–noun
2.a rodent mammal.


Pomeranian
–adjective
1.of, pertaining to, or characteristic of Pomerania.
–noun
2.one of a breed of small dogs having long, straight hair, erect ears, and a tail carried over the back.
3.a native or inhabitant of Pomerania.


Lets see, I am not a squirrel. I HATE nuts. Don't have the big tooth or build dams so that rules me out as a beaver. Cheese gives me digestive problems. I didn't carry the Black Plague to Europe. I can't even stand looking at garbage, let alone eat it. Oh wait, the last three were rats. If I were a rodent, then why does Mommy breed me? The only reason you breed rodents is to have food for slimy snakes.

"I noticed it had a collar. I think it is called Mr. Muffins…I couldn't tell; and I didn’t want to get closer...Humph…A collar…Oh…My…Lord…Do all under-privileged people domesticate their rats?"

You really need to learn how to read. Why don't you start a literary program instead of humping any females you come across. Better yet, teach all your illegitimate children across the country to read and write.

I hope you where enlightened by the truth. I am NOT a rodent. Just because you kiss babies for a living doesn't mean you can discriminate against a whole species. Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,
Mr. Muggles

God, finally!

So my last week has been utter and total hell. I got arrested for rushing the stage on American Idol, got set up on a reality TV show in a bunker underground somewhere with a bunch of idiots, my dog and several of his friends started a revolution, but most importantly, I lost five pounds. I am SO sad. Now, a girl never says how much she weighs, and five pounds is really a drop in the bucket for me, but still. I didn't want to lose that weight! I can't believe they only gave us three meals a day. Three! I was starving to death, I swear.

But all that aside, I realized once Comrade Lenin sprung me out of Hollywood jail, things were very different in California... There were kittens all over every street. Dogs and cats chasing each other merrily down the avenues. Killer rabbits throwing holy hand grenades that exploded with confetti at passersby. Really quite strange things. I swear I was hallucinating. Almost like how grandma hallucinates that she can hear animals. I saw a few cats run by wearing Guy Fawkes masks. Did I take acid or something this morning and not know it? I mean I have heard that they put drugs in the water in California, but this was just too strange.

Comrade Lenin saw to it that I made it safely on my plane to New York. Unfortunately, I kind of tipped the weight limit on it and some people had to sacrifice their luggage so the plane could get off the ground (just kidding -- well, only sort of). But nevertheless, I made it safely back to New York so I can now avenge my dear Mohinder's unceremonious sporking to the ceiling. It warms my big (big big BIG) heart to know that someone missed me, even if he is out to eventually steal my power and eat me. I keep telling him that if he eats my brain, he'll put on like 8,375 pounds, but I don't think he's listening. And it's not like my brain is all that appetizing anyways (not that I've ever tried to eat it before). But I imagine it's probably full of thoughts of cotton candy, bad childhood memories, David Hasselhoff crying (WTF? That's not my memory...), fluffy kittens, and spoons. Oh, spoons. I love spoons.

See, in one of my old theatre courses back in high school, one of our teachers would threaten us with spoons. Those little plastic ones really hurt if you have one chucked at you! Beware the spoons! Violent l'il buggers, they are! Anyways, we got him a golden spoon when we graduated. Hmmm. I don't know what made me remember that. Spoons have hidden agendas. Sure, they look all innocent just sitting there, waiting to be plunged into some ice cream -- but if you listen closely, you can hear them conspiring with the forks to run away. Seriously. Stop looking at me funny! You know you can hear them, too! Okay, I think grandma's genes are acting up again. Can anyone cure me of my senility before I hit thirty? Please? In a way that doesn't involve a temporal lobotomy (sorry underwater breathing shark man dress guy. :/)

While checking my email on my stolen laptop, I also noticed that mr glasses seems to have been broken for a little while. That made me sad, but only for about a minute or so until I found a food stand that sold pancakes. Mmm. Pancakes. I love pancakes. Especially with bacon. I just love how when it's cooked perfectly, it curls up and gets all brown around the edges--I really need to stay focused on my plan of attack here. I'm not back in NY to eat bacon. I'm here to save Mohinder from being eaten by his ceiling. Those poor sporks. What I wouldn't give to have their ominous and macabre job of holding him to the ceiling! I'm sighing wistfully now.

Apparently in my absence, MY MOTHER got into my account. That's interesting. So much can happen in a week. She called me up once I got back into NY and talked to me.

Mom: WHEN YOU GET BACK?
Me: A few minutes ago. I have to go save Mohinder now.
Mom: YOU COME FOR DINNER?
Me: No, mom, I'm on an important mission to save Mohinder! You know, "Save the Hindu, Save the World?"
Mom: LANA ARE YOU ON THE DRUGS?!
Me: Huh?
Mom: YOU KNOW, THE DRUGS. THE MA-RI-JU-A-NA.
Me: No.
Mom: WHO THIS MOHINDU?!
Me: Mohinder.
Mom: OH, MOHINDER! I LIKE HIM! IS GOOD! HE VER NICE! YOU GO TO KIDNAP?
Me: Yeh--NO. I'd never do such a thing!
Mom: OLDEST DAUGHTER MUST KIDNAP FUTURE HUSBAND! IS TRADITION!
Me: ...How's grandma?
Grandma: HA! COMRADE LENIN START REVOLUTION! ALL THE TIME KITTENS AND BUNNIES FROLIC HAPPILY THROUGH STREETS OF HOLLYWOOD! MAKE GOOD FUN!
Me: I'll take that as meaning she's doing all right.
Grandma: LANA, I SEND COMRADE LENIN TO SAVE YOU. HE VER SMART DOG. START GLORIOUS REVOLUTION! BREAK YOU OUT OF HOLLYWOOD TV JAIL! HE SMART DOG, HAVE MANY CREDIT CARDS, EH?
Me: Yes...?
Mom: YOU GO MOHINDER HOUSE, BREAK DOWN FROM CEILING AND BRING BACK HERE!
Me: I'm not sure if he'd like that. I mean, he's kind of attached to his ceiling. And I just got finished redecorating his apartment, too.
Mom: WE COME HELP! WE BRING THE TOOLS!
Me: Oh God, no.
Grandma: AT LEAST YOU KNOW WHERE HUSBAND IS! GRANDPA IVAN LEAVE MANY YEAR AGO, NEVER SAY HE LEAVE TO JOIN GYPSY CIRCUS! MAKE GRANDMA VER SAD. SO GRANDMA RUN INTO HIM ONE DAY IN CIRCUS ON TIGHTROPE AND TRY TO--
Me: Okay, I'll go scrape him off the ceiling -- just don't follow me.

Trust me. Grandma's old Russian stories can drag on for an eternity. Anyways, with that conversation out of the way, I put up my things and set off on my next quest: To take over the world! to save the Hindu so I could take over save the world. Wish me luck!

~ Lana

Solitaire with Peter

At first glance one would surely arrive at the assumption that my life is currently devoid of fortune. And while it would most definitely be true that it is quite unfortunate to be in my current predicament, I find myself hopeful for two reasons.

The first being my possession of the device which allows me to write this post. As a good scientist, I keep my Blackberry within the interior of my frontal shirt pouch. Perhaps it is the work of destiny? For only by being one who would keep such an artifact on their person at all times will I have this chance, this small opportunity to survive. And if I am in this predicament for a while, then I am blessed with a plethora of fun activities to perform on my Blackberry. I find that I am a fanatic when it comes to the game of Solitaire.

When I discovered my small computing device, I was relieved, but not only relieved, I was overjoyed. Overjoyed like a spinster walrus after finding its long lost whisker comb. And now, with my device, my metaphorical dragon-sleighing sword, it will be made possible for assistance to be provided to me, and perhaps Peter.

"Hey, dude, are you like writing on your blog?" he inquired.

"As a matter of fact, yes, yes I am. However, it goes beyond the act of simply writing. This is not just a minor periodic account of mundane events of mediocrity and/or misery. This is our golden ticket, our free pass, to escape the vile clutches of the evil Sylar. For with this device as my only hope, I can distribute a signal to the cyber masses and await their assistance."

"Email my brother and tell him Petey's finally dead. He can win his campaign now because I'm not going to be here to whine and screw it up for him! He never loved me! He kisses me and hugs me and feigns concern, but he doesn't understand me. Nobody does. Simone almost understood me, but Isaac killed her. I'm glad he did. Everyone should die. Dying is better than living. People accomplish more by their deaths. Do you believe in an afterlife, Mohinder?

"Well, I would not put it past destiny to create some form of eternal void in which the souls of the deceased may frolic and play. But the concept does seem quite silly, does it not?"

"I think when we die, we just become ghosts. And then we have to stay on Earth and watch everything, because Earth is Hell. There is no Heaven. If there's a God, he would have protected my hair. But there can't be a God, Mohinder! There's only a devil, and evil vile mastermind to this entire event we call life! There's no hope, no joy, no happiness. I thought I found happiness in a chocolate bar once, but the taste only reminded me of how rich and wonderful my life isn't. If only I could be a chocolate bar.."

I had no choice but to ignore the quite philosophical speech. As much as I enjoy conversations likening one to a edible block of candy, my cyber writing was of the utmost importance. For through it I can send my cry for help. And whom will receive it you ask?

You. Those people with whom I have friendly relations. Yes, it is finally time for you all to repay Mohinder for all that he has given to you. For without me, would destiny exist? Were it not for me, where would your lives be? Most definitely in a far worse place. I may lack an anamolistic ability of my own, but I have an enormous intellect, one that would rival the best of them. A brain with more potency than a legless wallaby during mating season.

And so it is my request, perhaps I could go as far to say demand, that you come to my rescue. And should you find that there is ample time and resources, you can also rescue Peter at your discretion.

"...And that's when I realized the truth about the Toothfairy."

"Peter, help is most assuredly en route as we speak. At this very moment, a swarm of evolved humans will descend upon my apartment, why there could even be a dyslexic cop as well! We now must wait. As one would wait for Santa or the Toothfairy to bring the rewards they so desire and often deserve."

"Toothfairy! Why? Why would you do that to me? How could you? I hate you, Toothfairy!"

I'm starting to become all to familiar with the sight of a man sobbing his eyes out like a Mesopotamian waterfall drowns its would-be travellers. Fortunately, for moments like this, there exists Solitaire.

Help Out a Stranger?

Wow, the waffles here suck! You'd think as fat as all these people are the food would be delicious. These people would probably eat roadkill if they had the chance.

Speaking of which, I ran over a squirrel on the drive from Odessa! Yay!

But I didn't come here to eat waffles or kill squirrels. Unfortunately I'm here on official, murder-free business.

I'm looking for a cheerleader. Claire Bennet, anyone hear of her? Personally, I don't think she's that important, but Thompson really wants to get her. He must have a thing for cheerleaders. If we get to torture her, it will be so cool to do it in front of the Bennets.

There was a time when I liked cheerleaders, before one broke my heart! We were best friends all through school, then she had to go and start dating the quarterback. Oh, my God, it was so cliche! It made me sick!

Then after I morphed into her and cut his intestines out with a golf pencil, she never wanted anything to do with me! I went through a lot of trouble to keep our friendship strong, and when she saw the gift I had for her, laying on the football field with his own guts in his mouth, she just puked and ran off! Not even a thank you!

Oh, well, who needs her. Or any cheerleaders for that matter. They should all be destroyed!

That's why I took this job. Well, I took it for the pay, and plus I was sort of kidnapped. But when I found out we would be wreaking havoc on people's lives, I was ecstatic. Some people say we're harming the innocent, but that's a load of bull-cheese! There's no such thing as innocent.

I saw this personal ad in Parade Magazine. It was like it called out to me. Totally fate or something!

Seeking attractive, tough female with a love of cruelty who enjoys mutilating farmland creatures and destroying the lives of happy suburbanites. Small boobs and magical abilities preferred.

So, I responded. I was like really expecting the one, you know? The love of my life. But instead I see this Thompson guy. He gave me this job and it's been great!

I've been particularly enjoying this Bennet debacle. It has all the pieces of a great tragedy. Now, we just wait for Act III where they all die! Yay! I'll bring the popcorn.

But before we can kill anyone, we have to find the cheerleader! So, help me out. Tell me where she is, I know you know something! Don't make me dip your children in a boiling vat of olive oil. Well, go ahead, make me. It'll be fun. But then you have to tell me where she is after that.

Don't worry, though. Primatech has many tricks up its paper sleeves. This post isn't our only plan to retrieve the girl. We're going to pull a Primatech classic. Soon, we'll give Bennet his Blackberry back, slightly modified so that we can track his activities on it. He'll lead us to her sooner or later. And I can't wait to see the look on his face when we disintegrate his little Miracle Grow girl in front of him.

So what do you say? Will you help out a stranger?

crime fighting adventure force!!!

r team is formed! the crime fighting adventure force!!! lol! xcept we dont rly adventure...we just look 4 peeps 2 kill. n we dont rly fight crime. we kinda R crime. i guess were kind of a force tho. a force 2 be reckoned w/!!!! :giggles madly: newayz heres r theme song that i just came up w/

were the crime fighting adventure force!
wen we speek r code is morse!
guess wut shud always b the main course?
brainz! even if their from a horse!

lol rnt i clever! i can rhyme! newayz in case u havent herd r force consists of my crazy bff niki/jess n the silly door 2 door salesman of god jeremy. we r on a mission 2 kill simon! he is totally a muslim! (or at least thats wut jeremy thinks lol). newayz b4 we went after them we figured we shud get sum practice so we went out!

we were at the liquor/bibles store wich ironically sold the things both my partners kneaded! thank goodness 4 new mexico n there liquor/bible stores! newayz we stepped outside and looked dwn at the ground. we all looked at each othr n realized we had r first target! n hear he wuz!



Jeremiah: Look, he's praying to Mecca! Die, heathen!

silly jeremy lol such a go getter! he pulled out his m16 and fired a shot into the bums leg! good thing he didnt kill him we all kneaded sum practice!

the bum roused groggily n got up. he didnt seem 2 feel the pain lol. newayz niki/jess punched him a couple times n he fell dwn lol! her training wuz going well! she dragged him up off the ground.

Niki/Jess: There was nothing I hated more than to see a filthy old drunkie, a-howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blurp blurp in between as if it were a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts. I could never stand to see anyone like that, especially when they were old like this one was.

me!: who r u tlking 2?

Jeremiah: She is narrating, obviously. Haven't you ever narrated anything?

i had know idea wut he wuz tlking about. newayz! niki hit the bum agin n he went sprawling on the ground.

me!: my turn my turn!

i raised my hand 2 mind trick him.

Niki/Jess: No! This is a test of strength! No powers!

the bum got up slowly. i raised my hands in a catlike stance. i clawed! meow! the bum wuz unaffected. he punched me! ow! i wuz takin a lot of abuse this week! he punched me agin! i fell down. i wuz hurt! i crawled into a ball n took his pummelings! i started 2 cry. it wuz like high skool all ovr again! newayz i got kinda fed up n looked up at him n force broke his neck. he fell dwn n i giggled thru my tears!

Niki/Jess: Well, then. I guess we'll steer clear of any use of physical abilities from you.

me!: yup!

newayz i got up n brushed myself off! r test had been passed w/ flying colors lol! now that we had r practice it wuz time 2 find simon! we wud be like charlies angels lol!