A Second Contest of Rhetoric and Verse

Is it not the nature of all great things to endure a sequel, to seek to prevail a second time? It is certainly the nature of poetry, the most flamboyant and metaphorical style of language second only to my own narrative prose. And so begins the second Poetry Contest here at the Burnt Toast Diner. You, the patrons of this eatery, shall cast ballots upon the termination of this contest, opting for a winner, a Grand Poobah of literary proportions.

Our first contestant is an adolescent figuratively shooting for the moon, where I am certain he has previously traveled, with this odd poem of aliens, machines and, of course, the greatest of man's inventions, love.

Western Sestina

by West “Kal-El” Rosen


Born at the gateway to a new frontier was an alien,

Meant to live set apart from the machine,

And rise above it all in meteoric flight.

But for this god-like being to realize his destiny,

He was subject to unknown terror,

And forced to bear it as his secret.



And at the center of this hidden secret

Existed a man to whom morals were alien.

Behind his every footstep followed terror,

Answering the call of the pernicious machine,

Haunting the young god as he pursued his destiny,

Weighing down his heart as he struggled for flight.



Yet from his unearthly vantage while in flight

He found a woman who could share his secret,

And be a goddess in their shared destiny.

Even though he had the spirit of an alien,

And she the compliance of the machine,

Love emerged to fill their hearts with terror.



And although the prospect of newfound love posed a terror,

They stole moments together in flight,

Throwing sand into the cogs of the machine.

This love of theirs was a blessed secret,

And gave meaning to the life of the young, god-like alien,

Secure as he was in the promise of their destiny.



But, oh! Fragile as glass was this destiny,

Once the man in the horn-rimmed glasses drove him off in terror.

Father to the invulnerable goddess and foe to the alien,

He made his enemies choose not fight but flight.

And the young god feared that they would lose their secret

As their hearts were ground to a pulp within the machine.



And more cogs erupted from within the machine

To disrupt the course of the young god’s destiny,

And to save them the goddess vowed to sacrifice their secret.

But the young god knew that to do so would bring him yet more terror,

And he parted to continue on his flight,

Continuing on the search for another alien.



And as he kept his secret from the machine,

He met that alien who would share his destiny

Fighting hidden terror rather than choosing flight.

Hey Everyone!!!

Hi ya'll,

It's Monica here.

Micah was nice enough to open up this pretty dog's account so I can post. :) I see my little baby brother posts here. With Micah's mom and dad passing on, Micah been taking rough. I told him I know what it like. My mother was killed when hurricane Katrina hit the Big Easy. I have to live with it for the last few years. He feels bad about what happen to his mom. I told him I blame myself for my mother's death too. Micah just sit around staring outside. I try to get him to play some Xbox but he doesn't want to play. I blame myself for what happen to his mom but I shouldn't let it get to me. It been rough but I know he is a trooper.

I am thinking about leaving Burger Bonanza. I was upset that I didn't get promoted. I thought Lamont would see that I make a good manager. He can't use the excuse about my home life. I don't think meeting a 18 year girl on the internet and running up his mom's phone bill count as a good home life. Everyone in New Orleans had a rough life these last few years. I don't think that is a good reasoning. Maybe I am supposed to do something better.

Look at this comic that I saved for Micah:


I could do this. I could watch Kill Bill vol 1 and 2. Throw in a little Chicago and Moulin Rouge for some dance moves. I can use Star Wars movies as a guide for weapon fighting. I could kick some serous butt. I could watch Project Runway for some sewing idea. Heck, I could even model my outfit after this St. Joan chick. I want to tell my BFF Camille about my idea but I know she wouldn't go for it. Like that time in 3rd grade, We where at the playground and this mean 5th grader boy bothered an another 3rd grade girl. When I saw it, I knew it wasn't right. I wanted to kick the boy's bottom. I ask Camille for help but she said "No, we will get in trouble". I looked at her and said "Come on, we can do it". She stood her ground and I decided to do it my self. I beat the tar out of that boy. I got in big trouble but it was worth it. I know if I told her about my super hero idea, she would have thought I have totally lost it. Oh well.

Well folks, its been nice to be able to post her. Hopefully maybe Micah could get me an account here.

C-Ya,
Monica

Your Xbox Wants to Kill You!!!!!!

Those of you fortunate enough to be living on EARTH (the greatest planet in the world!!!) may have heard of a little thing called the Xbox 360! Maybe you even received one for Hanukkah, or Christmas if you're a guilt-free gentile!!!

It turns out these video game consoles are nothing but an box of pure evil!!! EVIL!!

Why???? It's simple....I did some research...being dead I have a lot of time for that kind of thing...and it turns out...big spoiler alert....it's quite shocking!....the Xbox is made by none other than.....MICROSOFT!!!!!

Yes, the Standard Oil of the computer world! They are out for no less than world domination!!!! If you own one of their consoles, the best thing for you to do is to blow it up!!!! With a big explosion!!! Use eco-friendly combustibles!!

There is hope, however!! You may not need to blow up your own Xbox. Apparently, they all tend to self-destruct on their own!!! No doubt a insidious mechanism installed by its creators to cover all trace of their nefarious deeds!

These Xplosions are happening all over the country, and that statement is applicable in whichever country you happen to be in!!!

I have always been against things that blow up!!! It's bad for the average human being!!!! The Big Wigs like things to blow up, though. It keeps us on our toes, fearful of the next blast that could kill or badly damage our face to the point of unloveability!!!

So, while the new threat is the Xbox, don't let your guard down elsewhere!!! Just because the Death Star seems fun enough to wear, doesn't mean a proton torpedo won't find its way inside!!!

So whether it's the Death Star, your Xbox or just your Crazy Aunt Carol, hide it deep inside Carlsbad Caverns unless you're happy with the risk sponaneous combustion brings!!! With any luck, a bat will scare the nitroglycerine out of it. Then it can take up a life of crime-fighting with an acrobatic associate, maybe a reformed PS3?

And a quick warning to Microsoft: I'm on to you!!! Maybe I can't slap you, but I can infiltrate your precious computers....as soon as I figure out how to get past the little paper clip body guard. "No, I don't need help destroying your evil creators. Just die, Clippy!"

Nathanless Christmas

"Such a pretty tree!" Peter gushed as he flew to the top to place the last
ornament there.
Peter had helped me decorate the tree while the boys had gone to bed for the night.I had focused alot of my confused grief into making sure my sons and brother in-law had the best Christmas ever.
I did everything my role model would of advised me to do if she knew I existed.

"It's a good thing." she would tell me.

I awoke that morning with a heavy feeling on my chest.
"Peter, wake up." I muttered rolling him off me.
"snnzzzzzzzz"
Peter had once again crawled into bed clutching his Hello Kitty doll and dressed in his plaid cashmere jammies.

I had spent the whole night crying and then applying ice packs so it wouldn't look like I was crying.
Sure,Nathan had virtually ignored me and cheated on me with every tramp in the Western Hemisphere. Thing is, he was my man tramp and I had a ring and a prenup to prove it.

Why Nathan Why? Are you dead? Are you alive?Did you finalize your Will?
"Gold brother." Peter sputtered.
We had gone to the oddest Christmas party ever. There was a beautiful Indian
man there. I think he was married to a cop dressed in a Santa Suit. I don't remember much else, I have no idea why.

The boys loved all their toys and stayed around just enough time to consume
Christmas breakfast. Then they ran to their friend's house and were not seen until
Christmas dinner.
Peter and I created an After-Christmas shopping plan while we watched films and
sipped Champagne. It was the first time in years I wasn't locked in the bedroom slugging back Vodka trying to ignore the fact Nathan kept vanishing from the house.
Mama Petrelli wasn't sniping criticisms in my ear, in fact she still was missing.
I could walk everywhere and not have to roll around in that chair I used to be forced to sit in.
You know what? This is the best Christmas EVER!

3 Cheerleaders in lane 2

Wow, I can't believe this year is almost over. It's hard to believe that all that's happened to me this year took place in only a year! It's so much more than any of the other cheerleaders could say they've been through in their entire live, much less a year.

I mean, I ran into May (the creepy cheerleader who liked to watch me and West) and Debbie (the biggest skank like EVER) at the store. They were browsing through the pregnancy tests right below the condoms. I was planning on ignoring them and coming back for Mom's nasal spray later, but May spotted me. "OMG! Claire! Like, I heard West broke up with you! Does that mean you're available?"

"Umm..." I was taken aback for a moment. "Is he going around telling people that he broke up with me? That is the biggest pile of poo that I have ever heard. I broke up with him because he was whiney and didn't have the balls to take down a major corporation with me... Wait. It's Christmas break. How did you know we broke up? West doesn't talk to you robots,"

"Oh, Claire! You are soooo high maintanance. You are soooo cool! Isn't she Debbie? Isn't she?" May said brightly, ignoring my question. Is California like the national stalker state or some thing?

"Psh, like no way," Debbie muttered. May wasn't listening. I was so the new head cheerleader. That seemed to piss Debbie off so she dropped her test of choice into her basket and looked at me head on. "So that means you don't have a boyfriend anymore. When I dumped mine, I had a new one the next day,"

"Maybe it's because you're an easy sleazy drunken floozy," I said. That shut her right up. Unfortunatly, May was still trying to fight for me.

May gasped. "Claire has a new boyfriend! She has to! Don't you Claire?"

"No," I said without thinking. Debbie had her "I'm better than you" look and poor May looked like she was going to cry.

"I mean, I've got two in line, but it's like so hard to choose!" I said hurridly.

"You must have a picture, right? Maybe we can help you choose," Debbie sneeered.

I was so not going to let that little whore win this. I dug in my wallet.

"In fact I do. Look," I looked at them happily as they stared in awe at the picture.

"Oooh! The one on the left! No... Wait... Yeah... OMG! It's so hard to choose!" May shrieked, drawing stares from the old woman in the depends section.

"Come on May, I have... A hair appointment. We're leaving,"

"Bye Claire!" May shouted as Debbie dragged her to the express lane.

I let out a sight of relief and put the picture back in my wallet. They'll never know, right?

Worst Christmas Ever

That's right...while you were all enjoying yourselves, singing holiday tunes and drinking eggnogg, I was stuck here in this cheerless box. Wallowing in a Christmas of darkness and solitude. Well, you know what? I didn't want to go to your stupid party anyway.

Even though, according to that kid ol' whats-his-face, EVERYONE was there...including the younger Parkman and his Indian wife, and Elle and her evil dad, and Claire, and even suicidal Peter! Not to mention Sylar, who was apparently responsible for Lester being sent home with brain damage...I miss all the fun. Plus there were muffins, and there NEVER were muffins at the other Christmas parties. I didn't even get any presents this year, because there's no chimney in my coffin for Santa to come down in.

Well, you want to know what I did? I'm going to tell you. I lay in the dark and sang Christmas carols to myself. And when Hiro came on one of my bathroom breaks, I tried asking for a short reprieve, but he wouldn't give it to me, the Scrooge...he wouldn't even give me a little tree, and I asked nicely. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed yourselves while I was still trapped in my underground prison. I knew it was a mistake to send Lester to speak for me, but did no one even think to look for me? I hate you, I hate all of you. Merry Christmas.

Crashing X-mas!

OMG, shhh! It's like me, Sylar! I've been at the X-mas party all along, hiding in the corner! I had planned on surprising everyone as Santa, but they already have one, and he's like, totally fat. He's like, twins with the other one I killed to steal his costume before I came in here, lol! Anyways, I was totally tired of not being noticed, so I modified my costume a bit, used my cleavage generation powers that I somehow have, 'n laid out provocatively in front of the X-mas tree, like a bear skin rug that was somehow provocative lol. Almost immediately I like, drew some attention! That of my beloved Mohindy!

"Is it not destiny that drew my eyes to meet those of this voluptious vixen in front of me? Like a radical wheat monkey will forever delouse its rectum, I...oh, sweet Josephus! It is Sylar!" Mohindy shrieked, puking all over everyone's X-mas presents!

The lil cheerleader girl came over. I drooled as she spoke. "OMG! Stay away everyone!" Hehe, they had to know I was there now "I like, learned in biology that Indian puke can cause Mad Cow's disease or something!"

"I do not dine on the bovine. It is merely the ironical twist of destiny that caused my sudden expulsion of partially digested Taco Bell."

"Yeah Claire! Gosh, you're like so stupid! I bet you don't even think Santa exists! Well, I am he! And you've been naughty! So, like, prepare to...um...Mohindy, help me out here!"

"Expire?"

"Expire? You mean like how you're like, not supposed to eat food until after its expiration date or else you'll like, get Mad Cow's disease?"

"You mean before?" Bob asked.

"No, after."

"Regardless of your nutritional idiocy, I believe the word you are lacking from your lexicon is die," Mohindy interjected before I outsmarted everyone lol.

"OMG that's it! Prepare to die!" I raised my sexy finger, ready to activate my super mind trick! All of a sudden, from out of nowhere, Mr. Glasses came running in!

"NOOOooooOOOocoOOOooOO!" he shouted, pushing Lysander in between Claire 'n me! Poor Lionel's head got chopped off! "Thanks for saving me, Louis!" Claire said. She 'n all the more important people ran into a corner to huddle while I started mind tricking all the extras, er I mean, waiters 'n caterers 'n stuff, lol! Well, after a while, I got bored, so I like, illusioned myself to look like Micah 'n joined their huddle!

"We should get a bit of Claire's blood to resurrect your son, Noah," Bob said.

"What? Oh, yeah, sure, whatever. If we've got time. But right now, we need to figure out how to stop Sylar!"

"We could all kill ourselves, submitting to death's warm embrace. He can't kill us if we're dead," suggested Peter.

"Let's call that Plan B," Bob said.

"I have an idea!" some cute guy said. "Well, Sylar's like an alien, right? And not just any alien, but a stupid alien. And stupid aliens are dumber than stupid robots. Or am I getting it mixed up? I forget. Being an alien's not easy. Anyways, why don't we tell him that we're all counting on him to deliver brains to all the children of the world tonight?"

"Brains? Sounds tastey!" I said, my voice cracking. Everyone looked at me with suspicion or smoething! I was found out! I shifted back to my sexy Sylar form. "Christmas fools, lol! It's me, Sylar!" What a prank I had pulled! The best Christmas fools joke ever, lol!

Mr. Glasses gave a sexy sigh of relief. "Oh, thank Andy Griffith. We didn't invite that weiner kid, Micah. It was kind of awkward with him involved in our plan to foil you."

"Wait...so that means...you invited me?" I asked, a tear in my eye.

"Of course!" Mr. Glasses responded. "What better way to clear out the diner at the end of the party than a homicidal murder spree?"

"Awww, you guys really care! Even you, Mohindy?"

"Uh...there is no time to answer such quandries. It is an evolutionary imperative that you take to the sky and deliver brains, the biological souls of all humans, to the currently soul-less children."

"But, I can't fly," I said, pouting.

"I think Peter and I can help you with that," the cute guy, West said.

"Are we killing ourselves and volunteering our brains? I think that's a good idea," said Peter, raising his finger, ready to tear off his skull.

"We'll call that plan B," West responded.

Well, a Plan B with brain eating would have been good, but Plan A, which, like, involved me looking at Peter and West's butts all night was pretty good, too, hehe! Brains! Brains for every girl and boy! Eat them, get big and strong and special so you can grow up and get your brains eaten by me lol! Yay! Merry Christmas everyone!

SQUEE! IT'S CHRISTMAS.

I love the holidays because there's always countless gifts waiting under the tree for me. A tree for every ounce of guilty Daddy feels deep inside for the tortures of my childhood. Maybe this year I'll get a BMW!

Thought looking under the tree, I didn't see...welll, anything! Am I being punished for having a boyfriend? Crap. I think Daddy is officially on to me. It's alright though, West gave me plenty of things to tide me over...physically and materialistically. Is that even a word? Wow, that was a tough one.

See, West and I had to show at Daddy's stupid Christmas party and act like we weren't together because a) the cheerleader happened to be there and b) Daddy would have taken away my internet privledges if he knew I was seeing West.

A string of lights went out and Daddy pulled me aside and had me stand there keeping them going. I was *this* close to passing out when he finallly showed with a new string of them, told me I'd been a good girl and sent the Haitian in my direction. I made a B line for the punch bowl and shoved the stupid cheerleader in his direction. WTF does she need to remember? I'd be happy if she just forgot about my boyfriend! Actually...I would like to forget Peter Petrelli. He kept making eyes at me and I just wanted to zap him. Break my heart and then show up at the holiday party, why don't you?

Oh! The boyfriend, I happened to snag Daddy's gold card (lol, get it? gold card...and it literally is gold so it gets annoying when he needs it swiped through the machine at Nordie's...ugh.) and ordered him some stuff with robots on it from Hot Topic because his emo hair makes me think he'd love anything from there. So I got him an Optimus Prime hoodie and Optimus Prime undies for myself to wear for him. He really likes playing autobots and decepticons...the dirty version ;)

Well, I have to go model my new cheerleader costume for West before Daddy comes in to read me a story. Did I mention how fantastic flying boyfriends are? Screw you Santa Claus...my flying man looks much better coming down the chimney than you!

Happy Holidays, My Fellow Bloggers:

I was wandering around in a state of limbo trying to communicate with my loved ones when I noticed that Bennet was hosting a Christmas Party. Can you even imagine? My body isn’t even cold and he’s throwing parties….Well, I was so incensed, I made a deal with the devil to get back into my body. (I’ll tell you that story another day.)

As soon as the Prince of Darkness had shoved me back into my body, I realized he had given me the shaft—and not the good kind. I was still bleeding profusely from my bullet wound. I looked around anxiously for that foreigner Matt was dating, Mohinnylicker. He is supposed to be some sort of doctor. I never got around to finding him though because I saw one of my many lovers…Ummm. I mean acquaintances. It was Elle, and she looked like she was playing Doctor with a five year old.

Well, I can’t even imagine how that happened. He’ll never be able to satisfy her. I mean, seriously, how could she ever be happy with beans when she has tasted bean dip? ... [Crickets chirping]…Maybe that wasn’t a good analogy. Just forget I said that last part. With an adjustment to my pants, so my bum would be the center of attention and not my bullet wounds, I made my way across the room to reclaim Elle.

Unfortunately, before I could get there the man with horn-rimmed glasses stepped in front of me…No, not Bennet, the other guy—Bob. He stepped up to me and pounded me on the back, “Nice to see you son. Nice to see you. Did I ever thank you for saving me from Parkman’s Dad and the syringe toting Niki? Well, Thank you, son. Thank you.”

I was like, “No problem. Sorry I can’t talk but I have to get over there and rescue that sexy blond from that little boy before he gets chocolate all over her…blouse. I really can’t let him steal her away from me. Nobody plays the skin flute like she does.”

I could tell from the look on Bob’s face that he was unhappy about something, but I never got the chance to ask him about it because the hair challenged #$% turned me into a statue. The #@%^ didn’t even place me in front of a mirror so I could look at be perfectly chiseled features for the rest of eternity. However, a few minutes later, he did show up with my little Petey. There was a lot of blah, blah, blah, and then the little bugger grabbed a knife and ran toward my illegitimate progeny. The TWIT, if I weren’t a statue, I could have pointed out that his blood could probably do the trick as well, but like Petey is always saying…”Such is Peter.”

Getting into the holiday spirit

I never would have believed it, but here I am celebrating the holidays with my arch nemeses, my ex-girlfriend, and my current girlfriend at the company Christmas party here at the Burnt Toast Diner in Midland, Texas. It was kinda last-notice too, considering my inability to keep track of time, but hey, aliens don't need to pay attention to such trifling details like Earth time measurements.

I needed to get a Christmas present for Elle, so I flew on down to the Buy More in the outlet mall. My girl Elle is a classy gal who just wants to make her daddy proud, so I bought her this hi-tech surveillance system so she can spy on her dad 24/7. It's a much better system than the surveillance I had running on Claire's house, which consisted mostly of webcams hidden in trees. I also bought Elle this tight little t-shirt with the Slusho logo on it. Mmm, mmm, Slusho...

When I was at the Buy More, I ran into Claire's little brother Sylvester (?) in the computer aisle blogging on Adam's site. I would have offered Sly a lift to the party, but I figured that it'd be hard enough flying there while carrying all of Elle's presents. Not to mention the fact that I want to interact with Claire as little as possible. But I see he got here all right anyway.

Yeah, I think this is the best Christmas party ever: My parents aren't around, I've got an awesome girlfriend I can sneak under the mistletoe, and maybe I can take that mistletoe and use it to poison the eggnog and get rid of the company once and for all!

But I've got this really weird feeling that I know the guy serving muffins from somewhere, and I don't know why. He just seems so familiar...Wait! I know where I've seen him before!

Can you believe that Mos Def was invited to this party? The day just keeps getting better and better!

It's Christmas already?

It's Christmas already?!?! OK I missed something. A lot of somethings. The last thing I recall is Claude saying something about needing to step out for a bit for a funeral and the next thing I know I'm back at the Burnt Toast Diner with a bad hangover. Claude's about, not that much of anyone can see him. Claude keeps telling me to avoid the eggnog, which is just fine by me. I know he likes to drink but if all drinking gets me is memory holes and bad hangovers, no thanks. Claude also keeps glancing over at me like he thinks I'm going to change into something or somebody. I'd read my deck to figure this mess out, but my head hurts too much right now.



I'll tell you this much, Bob creeps me out. I'm wondering if the Haitian knows anything about retrieving lost memories. I'd ask him but Bob seems to be hanging about near him. The guy with the glasses is here too, and every time Claude notices him I can tell he's muttering curses under his breath even if I don't know what half of them mean.



On the plus side the party is cool, even if I'm not much of a party person. I think I recognize our Santa, and not the one who had an "accident." (Did I mention that Bob creeps me out?) Nice as this party is, it would be better if my head stopped hurting. Anyone here know how to fix a hangover headache from hades?

Feliz Navidad

I remember Christmas. My family would all gather around the Christmas bush and exchange gifts. And I would weep tears of joy over wonderful gifts such as dead rats and mangos.

Now, we haven't had a real Christmas in quite some time, seeing as Alejandro and I have been on the run. So when I recieved an invitation for this Christmas party, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go. But I had a dream. My brother visited me and told me to celebrate, as it was good for my health. I argued for a bit, but when he threatened never to visit me again, I had no choice.

The decorations at the diner were nicer than any I had ever seen. But then, I haven't seen all that many. And such joy! There were two lovely Santa's spreading cheer and what looked like brain candy canes.

In the corner was a young man sobbing into his cocoa as the man called Bob wheeled away what looked like a gold statue of my sacrificial congress lamb. His sorrow gave me hope. Perhaps there was room for festivity and depression in the same room! I made my way over to him and asked what made him weep.
"Everything," he said. "Dying brothers, dead girlfriends, such is Peter,"

I gave him a tender pat on the shoulder. "My brother is dead too. Sylar killed him,"

"In the future with the bomb, Sylar killed my brother and used his image to dominate the world,"

"My brother died protecting me and I shunned him, leaving me with unspeakable guilt,"

"My brother became an alchoholic because I was hiding in Ireland. We both have lots of guilt,"

"I cry alot," I said.

"I bet I cry more. I cry for the metaphorically dying world,"

"When I cry black goo comes out and everybody around me dies,"

We were both silent for a moment. "That's so hot," He said finally. And like that were lost in a tangle of limbs and tears. It was a beautiful melding of sorrow and arousel. But almost as soon as it beagn it stopped. A man in horn rimmed glasses was spraying us with a very festive looking spray bottle.

"Thats enough. We don't want to give the children any ideas. Children meaning my little Claire Bear. She's very innocent, you know,"
Behind him, I saw a cheerleader throwing very angry glares at a woman shooting playful sparks at a young boy.

"I'm sorry!" I wailed. "I do nothing but destroy! Lives, innocence! I kill!" Overcome, I ran about the room groveling at as many people's feet as I possibly could. The man called Peter clapped and moaned in time. It was glorious.

Feliz Navidad, my friends! May your year be batter than mine!

Hppay Hnuhkah!!!

Os, teh Brunt Taost Dienr decdied to hvae a Crhitsmas Praty. Mloly, Mhonider and I wnet togteher. Snice Mhonider wsan't a Crhistain, we werne't srue abuot giong. To be hnoest, I'm nto srue if I am a Crhistain. I hvaen't been to a regilious srevcie snice my dad wlaked uot on me. I'm tihnking we were Jweish, thuogh. I do lkie beagles!

"Yuo can be Snata!" Naoh siad to me wehn I arrvied. Apaprently, thier frist Snata had an accdinet.

Depsite bieng myabe Jweish, I siad I'd gvie it a tyr.

"Dno't worry," Naoh assrued me, "three wno't be ayn raeding ivnolved."

It wsa ncie of him to tkae my dylsexai itno cnosdiertaoin.

A fwe mintues ltaer adn I wsa in full cotsume.

"OH! OH! OH!" I siad, brusting thruogh teh door. Instaed of bieng wlecmoed by hppay praty-geors, I swa Pteer running at Cliare wtih a btuter nkife.

I qiukcly sued my tleepaht pwoers to sotp him. Naoh siad, "Tahnks, Prakman."

Mloly seemed cofnsued. "Prakman??" seh aksed. "Dno't yuo maen Snata Cluase?"

"He siad Snata Cluase," I siad, frocing teh thuoght itno her mnid. "And I'm the rael Snata!"

"He siad Snata Cluase...and yuor teh rael Snata!" She jmuped otno me and strated raeding off her lsit of tihngs she wnated fro Crhistmas. "A pnoy, a Droa the Epxlroer toohtbursh, a sadlde fro my pnoy, Teh Litlte Mremiad Spceail Etidion DDV, nwe aerings mdae of sliver, a chimpunk..."

"OH! OH! OH!" i ctu her off. "Hvae you bene a good gril?" I aksed.

"Of cruose!"

Snata Prakman strated getting hugnry. Os, I glacned aruond fro the snakcs. "MMmmm....Fufmins, my favoirte." I aet there of tehm wehn I swa teh fwafles. "MMmm....fwafles, my favoirte." I aet fuor fwafles tehn nocticed teh gignerrbaed cookeis. "Mmmmm.....gignerbaed cookeis, my favoirte."

"Hwo can yuo eta wehn my proo brohter is glod and dynig!" Pteer creid.

I ingored him. Three wsa fra mroe ipmrotnat tihngs no my mnid. "MMmmm....gaint tnisel-covreed borcolli!"

Naoh stopped me. "Tahts not borcolli, it's teh Crhitsmas tere."

I cuold see Mhonider sahking hsi haed in dipsapovral form arcoss teh room. I'm srue I'll get an aer-flul wehn we get bcak home.

Btu fro now, I'm giong to ejnoy all the fsetviteis!

Pre-Menstrual Heartbreak, with a Dash of Festive Joy

So here I am, at a Primatech Christmas party. Wasn't I imprisoned by them just a month or so ago? Now they invite me to a Christmas party? Hmm, seemed suspicious. Luckily, I could take anyone in this room if they tried to capture me again. But what would the point be? It would be about as worthwhile as a gazelle evading a cheetah. You see, the gazelle is me, Peter. The cheetah, it is death. Even I gracefully evade the cheetah of death with my gazelle-like reflexes, it will still be there to hunt me down and tear off my cute gazelle limbs a few days later. Frolic. Galloping gazelle. Disembowelment. Such is Peter.

So, why am I here, you may ask? Well, to get attention of course. That, and I'm an innocent, naive boy, and don't believe anyone would ever hurt me. Except girls, they're evil, especially when they die on me. Selfish vixens. Anyways, the only thing emos like more than crying, is to cry in front of other people to get attention. So that's what I did. I went, sulked in my corner away from everyone, started quietly sobbing, until I began shouting, "Caitin! Caitlin!" like a rabid wildebeest.

All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the man I knew as Noah.

"There, there, Peter," he said. "I'm sorry to hear about Caitlin, but aren't you forgetting someone?"

"You mean Simone?"

"No, actually, I forgot about her. She sure was useless, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, but that's what I loved about her. You talking about Isaac?"

"Didn't he kill Simone? What do you care about him?"

"Touche. Um...Ted?"

The man in horned rimmed glasses looked at me for a moment, before bursting in laughter. Even I had to laugh a bit at my silly thought. But only a little! Laughter is like the laxative to the constipation of death. It's only temporary relief.

Suddenly, I realized who Noah was referring to. "Oh...oh God...You speak of Nathan!" I wailed. "Nathan! Nathan!"

He tried to console me. "If it makes you feel any better, you're the first person to know my first name."

"That just further pushes me into despair! That means you'll die too! As everyone close to Peter does! I am the plague-bringer! I am the hand of death! Everything I touch turns to ash! I am the daylight that burns the vampire! Except my light is pitch darkness!

Noah gave up, and left me be. Someone approached me, and I looked. I gasped at who I saw. "You! You're the guy who was shot in Kirby Plaza! I heard you were dead! Did Claire's blood save you?! Did it?!"

He glared at me for a moment. "I am not D.L. I am the Haitian. Are you saying that all black people look alike?"

"Does it even matter, D.L.? You're alive! Alive! What a joyous day."

"I am the Haitian! D.L. is dead!"

I heard this, and wailed once more. Bob, the evil King Midas, stepped up beside the Haitian. "Nice going, Haitian. Way to put it delicately."

"In my country, to be tactful is tactless," D.L./the Haitian said, walking away. Sounded like France was a neat place to live. But I digress.

"Peter," Bob said, "I have a surprise for you. I made you a gift, something so that you'll alwayd be able to remember your pet Nathan. Bring it out, Dr. Suresh!"

I looked up, and this is what I saw:

"You bronzed my dead brother?!" I asked in disbelief.

"No," answered Bob, clapping his hands. "I golded him! And he was alive when I did."

"What?! Can you undo this?!"

Bob thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Why would I want to turn something BACK from gold?" he asked.

"Claire's blood!" I shouted. "That'll save him!" I grabbed a butter knife, raised it over my head, and charged forth towards the object of my incestual lust. No, not gold Nathan! Claire!

But before I could get there, I felt the sudden urge to go back into my corner and cry. So I did. I hugged my gold Nathan and cried. I noticed Santa enter the room, one that seemed grossly overweight.

"Thanks for stopping him, Parkman," Noah said, shaking hands with the suited tub of lard.

Bob stepped up to me. "Fine, don't like my present! I guess we'll take some Claire's blood, de-gold Nathan, hide him away, and not tell you if he's dead or alive! I hope you're happy!"

"But you just told me he was alive!"

"What? Oh, I don't know. Didn't you see the news? It only said he was shot, not that he died! But maybe he did! Bullets do kill people, you know." Bob stormed off, as ambiguous as a hermaphrodite.

Haitian D.L.s. Gold Nathans. Overweight Santas. Such is Peter.

Happy Holidays?

Man...I'm dusty and exhausted, not to mention starving. But I'm finally here, at this waffle place everyone keeps talking about! Usually when I ask about it people say, "None of your business, Luke" or something like that. But this time I was determined to go, because I think I should tell people where Adam is, as he can't be here himself, you know?



That's right, it's me, Lyle? I'm on Adam's blogger account because he told me to go to this Christmas party and get the word out. We met on the internet or something and he's like my hero now...anyway that's why I told Mom I really wanted to go to the annual Christmas party this year.

Well, so much for that. I can't believe they forgot about me AGAIN. They always leave me behind, always? And I end up having to spend Christmas with the Playground Hobo or at my Tae Kwon Do studio. This year I had to follow them all the way here to Texas just to be included.

I finally found them at a table toward the back of the cafe...



"Hey, son, you made it! Did you walk or something?"

"Yeah. Listen, there's something I need to talk to you about--?"

"Look, Sandra, it's Larry!"

"Oh," she smiled, "Merry Christmas, young man."

"No, Mom, it's me, your son Lyle."

"Oh, that's right," she said, "Want some waffles?

"No, Larry doesn't like waffles," Dad interjected, pushing the steaming plate away.

"Yes I do," I started to say, but just then Claire jumped in.

"Like, yay! Waffles!" She said, and started to eat them. "Oh, hi, Barnaby."

"Yeah, hi. Anyway, Dad, about Adam Monroe--"

"Son, don't talk about things you don't understand," said Dad, wandering away.

So I kinda started mingling with the rest of the crowd, listening in on the other conversations and stuff?

"I wonder where Adam could be," said one middle-aged guy with a bald spot.

"I know where he is," I said.

"Yeah, wouldn't he be here by now?" Said a blonde chick who kept sparking.

"He can't come," I said.

"Maybe he's stuck in traffic," the girl guessed.

"Would this Adam fellow be the four century year old Englishman we had previously discussed? Perhaps he neglected to reserve the date on his calender," an Indian man joined in.

"No, he always remembers the Christmas party. I'll bet he ran into trouble."

"Something to do with the virus perhaps?"

"Ha, I wonder if that Asian chick finally caught up with him."

"No, she didn't," I managed to butt in, "he's trapped in a box somewhere in--"

"Oh, hi there, you must be Landon!"

I gave up. There was so much to keep me entertained, anyway, there was a fat Santa, a slightly creepier Santa lurking in a corner, a couple of gold statues, muffins, a Black guy, and I bet a bunch of people here have superpowers. As I sipped my egg nog, a waitress was electrocuted, and some emo dude ran sobbing at my sister with a butter knife.

I walked unobtrusively over to the tree and stood next to Mom, who was staring at all the pretty little lights.

"Want some egg nog?" I asked her. "It makes you feel all warm and tingly."

"God, Lucas, you talk too much," Said Claire from behind me.

"Shut up, Claire!"

"Oh, is that you, Louis?" Asked Mom, pulling me into a warm embrace. "Come look at these cute glowy things with me."

Well, I guess this party isn't too bad. I'm with family. This place is indoors. There are lots of presents around the Christmas tree. Who knows, maybe I'll actually get one this year!

Love, Ly...sander? No, Lyle. It is Lyle, right?

It's a Burnt Toast Christmas!

Being back with the company means I get to kill people again. But it also means office Christmas Parties. Since Primatech has a catering deal with the Burnt Toast Diner, they decided to co-host a Christmas bash with them. Naturally, due to my wonderful party planning abilities, I was put in charge of the festivities.

Oh, and Bob wanted me to monitor all the special people that would attend. The free stocking-stuffers are actually tracking devices. I told Bob that wouldn't work because they'd re-gift 'em anyway and we'd end up tracking their Aunt Joyce instead.

"Ready for the party, Claire?" I asked.

"Uh, no! My bio-Daddy is dying! My blood could save him. My blood!"

"I'll let you drink some alcoholic egg nog," I bribed her.

"Okay!"

And the Bennets were off.

"Crap," I said as we pulled into the parking lot. "We forgot Linus."

"You mean Lloyd?" Claire asked.

"I think it's Jocephus," Sandra offered.

Mr. Muggles barked.

"Oh, well. Your brother doesn't like Christmas waffles anyway."

I set my family at a table so I could finish up the final touches before everyone started showing up. Bob and The Haitian already had most of it done.

"Don't you think the gold Santa is a little much?" I asked.

Bob replied, "Well...about that. We're going to need to find another Santa."

Before I could begin stressing about the lack of Santa, The Haitian came in with Christmas muffins. He seemed to bump into thin air and the muffin tray flew into the air. With the exception of Mr. Muggles, we were all disappointed.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate," a familiar voice said. "I didn't mean to stand in ya way."

"Claude?" I asked.

Bob said, "Quick, bag and tag him!"

I began to lift my Primatech gun when The Haitian spoke up, "No. It is Christmas. A time to be together. We must put our differences aside, for now. In my country, Christmas is a horrible time. The evil tyrant gang lords rob the children of their gifts. I do not want such unpleasantries in my new home."

He had a good point. As much fun shooting an invisible man would have been, I had to think about the children. "Claire, clean up the muffins," I said, holstering my sidearm. "Haitian, finish stringing the lights. Bob, lay out the silverware."

"You mean goldware?" he asked.

"Fine. Lay out the goldware."

Finally, things were coming together. I ran back to the kitchen to cook up more Christmas muffins. The Burnt Toast Diner staff had prepared a wonderful meal. Everything was looking great.

Our first visitors arrived. "Peter, welcome," I greeted the younger Petrelli as he entered. "I didn't think you'd make it with the whole dead brother thing."

Holding back tears, he said, "Christmas has always been about death for me." He noticed Claire still cleaning up the muffins on the floor. "What a wonderful metaphor for life....starting out as a tasty and sprinkled muffin, only to be tossed onto the scum-ridden floor of this miserable world. What do I want for Christmas this year? Death, to end my suffering."

"I like the black sweater," I said, trying to avoid the awkward death talk. "It's quite festive."

Peter mumbled something as he went inside. Behind him was Detective Parkman, Mohinder and Molly.

"Hey, Parkman," I shook his hand firmly. "Molly, how about you run on in and have some sweets." She took off excitedly. I glared at Mohinder and said coldly, "Hello, Mohinder."

"Greetings, Bennet," he replied.

As they walked past me, I grabbed Matt by the shoulder. "Say, you know we really could use a Santa," I said. "Our first one had an....accident."

"Gee, thanks. It's because I'm fat, huh?"

"No," I said. I quickly thought up a lie, "You're jolly."

"I can read minds, you know?"

Stupid Haitian. Paying more attention to his decorating than he is suppressing abilities. "Do it for Molly?" I pleaded.

"Fine."

A shaky start. But we'll see how things progress.

My Slusho brings all the boys to the yard!

OMG GUYS. Life is SO good right now. Seriously. Seriously!!!!!! Okay so, let me start at the beginning...or the end? So Nathan Petrelli just became human swiss cheese by taking a few to the chest, meaning my first REAL boyfriend plans were up in smoke. We weren't officially dating or anything, we just played Candyland and other sorts of board games...and then did things on...nevermind. He taught me many valuable lessons about myself, I'll leave it there. This was after I went after my old BFF Sylar to impress my Daddy of course. Daddy, however was not at all impressed. Even after Mohinder posted the video of me going after Sylar on youtube and labeled it ELLE BEING HEROIC, I was still sent to my room without pudding and was really mad about it.

THIS IS WHERE IT GETS GOOD. Okay so, I was checking my blog and well, being nosey/spying on the cheerleader when I found out WEST LIKES ME. So I was like, fly in boyfriend? HOW NICE IS THAT?! So I let him know I was thinking about him and soon enough there's a tap tap on my window and WEST. We made out for two hours. It was so nice...*sigh* He got over the electrocution thing pretty quickly. I think he may kind of like it...Plus, I'm learning self control because you know...no self control isn't very heroic, is it?

So, not only can my new boyfriend fly. But he's so...plotty. He has all these plans and great ideas and he lets me use my powers to power up all his little robotic creations. He told me he plans on taking out the Company some day which'll get him one step closer to world domination. How SEXY is that? He also told me I can finally put my DAD in a time out and punish him for all the terrible things he's done. See, I'm newly heroic and West? So totally heroic and did I mention MANLY?

Things couldn't be better for me. West does like to talk about cheerleaders a lot, and do you guys think he has a fetish? He told me he wants to get ready for next Halloween early and suggested I get a cheerleader costume and try it on now and show him. I'm considering it. Anything for my snuggle birdie.

Hobo Muggles

I started the day just chillin' in window. Mummy and Lyle where packing to move Utah. Claire is going though all the Primatech Boxes. With all those boxes, I could make a hobo house. I could create many rooms. I am all set if I have to become homeless. There is some good reading in those boxes. There is this one guy that can read minds. Another one is some gay guy from San Frisco that can control the weather. From the report of him, Father had a hard time catching him. It was a pretty funny story.

Back to my window story, I just sat there listing to all the bickering. All of a sudden, this vehicle pulled up. I didn't get too excited. Cars pull up everyday. People think our drive way is a turning area. They also think our yard is a huge trash can too. Mummy has found trash, fast food wrappers, soda bottle, Soda cans, condoms, school papers, and lawn chairs. Linus made 15.00 on all the cans and bottle in our yard. He used that money to buy the newest "Nickelback " cd. I HATE that cd. "Rockstar" is a stupid song. I would give my left toe to cut off the lead singers hair. I hate them.

Back to my story agian, I see a guy come out of vehicle. At first, I couldn't make who it was. Then all of a sudden, I recognized the person. It's Father!!! I start to yell to everyone that father is coming but they where too busy talking. I keep yelling that "Father's Alive". They still didn't listening to me. Finally, I started to yell "IDIOTS, GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR A**, FATHER IS ALIVE, YES, HE IS ALIVE. LISTEN TO ME. WORSHIP ME. I AM HURNGY , FEED ME, FEED ME, FATHER IS COMING TO THE DOOR, YOU KNOW WHAT, I HOPE HE KILLS YOU!!!"

Once, father came to the door and walked it. Mummy and Claire finally saw father. Mummy went to hug father. Claire then hug father and they had one of those Lifetime moments. He asked for Linus and Linus look happy to see him. He broke the news to us that he back with the company and we will be safe from the company. Claire was disappointed. She was ready to use all of her PMS power to over throw them. Then Father told Mummy to keep saying he is dead to get some money off father's insurance. Father did look at me and said that I am his golden child and I need to come out of Dog show Retirement.

Father didn't stay long but everyone is happy to see him. Oh, crap, Claire is screaming now about someone getting shot. I heard the words" Bio dad, hot uncle, shot, No" being used. That my cue to go and see whats going on.

Ever have one of those days

You ever have one of those days where you wish you'd stayed in bed? I wasn't allowed to. I think that kid Hiro's been mucking about, either that or Poodle who copied his power has. I woke up this morning with a nasty hangover and saw myself looking at me. And the other!me was wearing my good suit, too. I was going to ask him where he/I/we'd left it but I didn't get the chance to ask it



What the Bloody Hell is going on?








Good question, but you should know that shouting isn't good for us in the morning, mate.





What is going on, Tarot?







I dunno where she went, but just tell me we don't get the bloody virus.






What virus?








The one that takes your-our power away and kills us. You can still go invisible, right? Because I can't.






What do you mean you can't go invisible? You read tarot cards for goodness sake!




I do now, yeah. I needed a drink after last time.






A drink?!?! Oh bloody hell! No wonder you're like that! I thought I told you to stay away from the bar?






Funny I don't recall that.






Why am I not surprised?






Because you're future!me?






No I'm not. Not unless you were planning to get surgery and have Hiro send you back in time. Just tell me you haven't lost our winnings.





Actually I added to them, you should know.








Why would I know that? I've been away! Wait, you added to them? How much?






We won the big jackpot next door. Wait are you from the past? If you're from the past, whatever you do don't trust Noah...Or have you-we already been though that?







Never mind about Noah! Where are the winnings?





In the safety deposit box. Here's the key.





And I handed him/me the key. Funny thing is the universe didn't explode. So much for all the stories I've heard about that. He surveyed the winnings.



Well, that's good at least. But we still need to fix you. Can't have two of "me" running about. Blimey! I ask you to be a decoy and this happens... I just hope you haven't done any major damage. Soon as I get you sober and back to being you, we're going to another casino.




Sober, me telling , myself I needed to be sober and that I wasn't me. It was so surreal. I'd thought it might have been a dream but I'm never hungover in dreams.