Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

Oh, the reasoning should be clear soon enough.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
Box Opening

Don, the husky nine-year-old boy, couldn't chase after Dan for very long. Don panted, wiping his sweaty brown hair out of his eyes, before deciding that it wasn't important enough to warrant such effort that he already exerted. Even though he was nine years old, it looked as if he was wearing a meerkat atop his noggin. He thought it was a good look.

He was wrong, of course.

He narrowed his dark brown eyes at the direction that Dan was headed. He was heading home. Don decided he didn't need this. He went home, hoping to find something to eat.

***

Dan had already made to his home, and was already setting the box down on his bed. In his unnecessary greed, he failed to recognize the dangers of taking a box that you don't know the contents of. The dangers of bringing it home, and opening it.

There could always be a number of potentially dangerous things inside. Anthrax. Dynamite with fuse alit, possibly. A deadly germ. Incriminating evidence. Anything along those lines.

But he was nine. Such concepts don't usually occur to the average nine-year-old, especially the reckless and greedy ones, such as Dan. The box was light, almost as if it were empty. But Dan refused to believe that it was just an empty box. Yet, there was also an indescribable heaviness to it that was difficult to explain.

It was about the size of two moderately-sized music boxes placed side-by-side. The front of the box seemed to have an elaborate lock on it -- it wasn't engaged. Only a minor latch remained.

Dan did not imagine all the dangerous things that could lurk within the box. He did not concieve that it could possibly affect him in any negative light. He was sure the box held gold, jewels, and other assorted such valuables. It was rather naive of him to believe such, but, again, he was nine.

He quickly, with building anticipation, unlatched the front of the box. Nothing happened. Nothing interesting or noticeable, anyway.

He placed both hands atop the lip and pulled it open. . . .

Suddenly, seven brilliant plumes of colored smoke burst forth. The violet one burst forth in a stretching, almost longingly way. The yellow one burst forth, rather overindulging in the spiralling exit. The orange one burst forth in a rather erratic way, as if looking at all the shiny knicknacks. The blue one burst forth rather lazily, as if it was too much effort. The red one burst forth like a rocket, with great anger. The green one burst forth, apparently trying to lap the others. The indigo burst forth in a rather haughty, conceited manner.

After that, they seemed to vanished, and the box was empty. Dan felt incredibly gypped.

The fact of the matter was they did not immediately. But solidified into rather spectral forms that were unseen by humans.

The red one solidified into a reddish-black, muscular, humanoid body, standing roughly eight feet in height with a pair of long, curved antennae coming out of the top of its head, not unlike overlong bull horns, and four shorter antennaes coming out of the back of its head. The antennae on top of its head have wide bases and become narrower as they become longer. Its demonic head was bovine in shape. It has small, glowing green eyes, black gums, and sharp, black teeth in its broad mouth. It was Ira. Wrath.

The orange one solidified into an orangish-black, muscular, humanoid body, standing on par with Ira, with a pair of long, serpentine antennae coming out of the top of its head and four shorter serpentine antennae coming out of the back of its head. The antennae on top of its head have wide bases and become narrower as they become longer. Its demonic head bares some resemblance to that of an andaconda. It has small, glowing blue eyes, black gums, and sharp, black teeth in its triangular head. It was Avaritia. Greed.

The yellow one solidified into a yellowish-black, muscular, humanoid body, standing on par with its fellows, with a pair of long, insect-like antennae coming out of the top of its head and four shorter ones coming out of the back of its head. The antennae on top of its head have narrow bases. Its demonic head bares a humanoid insect. It has small, glowing yellow eyes, blue gums, and sharp, black teeth which can fold out like a Predator's mouth. It was Gula. Gluttony.

The green one solidified into a green-black, muscular, humanoid body, standing on par with its fellows with a pair of long, smooth antennae coming out of the top of its head and four shorter ones coming out of the back of its head. The antennae on top of its head have wide bases and become narrower as they become longer and sunction-cupped on the underside. Its demonic head is rather cetacean in appearance. It has small, glowing red eyes, black gums, and needle-like, sharp, black teeth. It was Invidia. Envy.

The blue one solidified into a bluish-black, muscular, humanoid body, t was the same size as its fellows and a pair of long, feathery plume-like antennae coming out of the top of its head and four shorter ones coming out of the back of its head. The antennae on top of its head have wide bases and become narrower as they become longer and tapered. Its demonic head was avian. It has small, glowing orange eyes, black gums, and sharp, triangular teeth filling its bill.  It was Acedia. Sloth.

The indigo one solidified into a indigo-black, muscular, humanoid body, at the same height as the others with a pair of long, crooked tentacles coming out of the top of its head and four shorter ones coming out of the back of its head. The tentacles on top of its head have wide bases and become narrower as they become longer and spiked. Its demonic head bears a certain Cthulu resemblance. It has small, glowing yellow eyes, black gums, and a cephalopod beak. It was Superbia. Pride.

The violet one solidfied into a violet-black, muscular, humanoid body, standing at eight feet in height with a pair of long, crooked antennae coming out of the top of its head and four shorter ones coming out of the back of its head. The antennae on top of its head have wide bases and become narrower as they become longer and crooked. Its demonic head bore some resemblance to that of a Blue Eyes White Dragon. It has small, glowing brown eyes, black gums, and sharp, black teeth. It was Luxuria. Lust.

All but Avaritia vanished to parts unknown. Avaritia did not for a very simple reason.

It had already found what it was after.

[redtailedsaffa]

I see where you got Don from.

[Cloak]

It was the mentioning the meerkat-for-hair, wasn't it?

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
Sensing the Boxed Evils

Cloak was in the forest nearby the forum. It was very near dusk, and the sun was beginning its decent into the horizon. Cloak could help but chuckle at the perspective of it all, as the sun itself wasn't truly setting, but just the planet turning ever so slowly away from it. That what everything tends to boil down to in the end. Perspective.

Yes, Cloak rejoiced in this nice quiet spot. Here he could meditate and quiet his mind, untangle the mess his mind was in during some of the more mind-tangling missions. He could come here when he needed to be alone and --

"Hiya, uncle!"

"Shadow -- I'm meditating," Cloak said, failing to keep a smile from his face.

"You're not meditating, you're napping. I know the difference!" she said, cheekily.

He couldn't stay irritated at her. His smile deepened, despite himself. Shadow emulated this, happy that she managed to get her uncle to crack a smile -- not always an easy task. Cloak tended to be very serious, and getting him to smile could be an arduous endeavor.

Suddenly, Cloak had a sneaking suspicion. His monkey niece could be quite mischievous at times.

"Did you finish all your homework?" he asked, slyly.

"Uh," she replied, telling Cloak that he had hit the nail on the head, "I . . . I love you?"

Cloak couldn't help himself, but he laughed at that response. "Shadow, you know better than to shirk your responsibilities like that."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going." she said, with a smile.

Cloak found himself considering the possibility that the real reason that Shadow popped in on him was to check up on him. She might have worried that the whole Gamemaster-Malice thing would have an negative effect on him. Clearly, he had said or done something that must have caused her some concern.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was punched in the gut. He felt a twinge in his right ankle. He had no idea what brought this on.

He was not alone in this. Demos, Cornson, Bladeh, FuBar, Yarin, and more RAFians who either could sense evil, or telepathic, or had some personal experience with great evil like this sensed it as well.

But no one precisely knew what was the cause.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Such a Greedy Boy . . .

About nine months ago, it was Dan's ninth birthday.

"Happy birthday, Dan!" Don said, genially, presenting him a small present with blue wrappings and orange ribbons. He was already nine at that point.

Dan ripped open the present, to discover it was something sentimental rather than expensive.

Don asked, "Do you like it?"

Dan said, before transitioning into song:

Hmm . . .
You've given me a birthday gift.
You've really given my day a lift.
Oh, wow! A baby pic of you and me.
But I have to tell you a little somethin' now.
And I'm trying to find the right word how,
While your gift was thoughtful,
It was also chintzy.
But I can remedy the situation,
So you can avoid future humiliation,
If you would just follow these few gift-giving guidelines!
Buy me something made of solid gold,
Because homemade sweaters just leaves me cold.
Think in term of things that are expensive.
A coffee mug that says 'My Best Friend'
Will find a new home in my rubbish bin.
And if you knit me a scarf,
I'll bury it in the graveyard."

"Now pay attention," Dan said, as he displayed several items on a projector screen. He continued:

"Chintzy, chintzy, chintzy, chintzy, not chintzy.
Chintzy, chintzy, chintzy, chintzy, very chintzy."

He picked up a calendar that Don had made for Dan previously.

"This gift has a hot date with my paper shredder.
Buy me a jacuzzi filled with caviar,
Or a diamond-encrusted rocket car.
And, when in doubt, try a briefcase full of money.
Try to stay away from arts and crafts,
I don't want your homemade bubblebath,
And cookies are better when they're made by professionals.
Buy me a ranch with a million long-horned steers,
Or a mansion filled with crystal chandeliers,
Or a simple army tank,
Would be met with heartfelt thanks.
Because that is something that I drive to the grocery store."

Don said, getting into the song, "Oh, I get it!"

In unison, they sang, as they went through more images:

"Chintzy, chintzy, chintzy, chintzy -- "

"Not chintzy." Don declared, to which Dan replied, "Good!"

Then they sang some more, as they went through more images:

"Chintzy, chintzy, chintzy, chintzy --"

"Very chintzy." Don said, to shich Dan replied, "Yes!"

Dan continued:

"That's why I'm setting fire to the photo you gave me.
So, I'm glad I can help you out,
This is what friendship's all about!
But the next gift that you bring should require a trailer.
So, before a new day dawns,
Maybe cash in your savings bonds,
And buy me a present . . . that is not . . . CHINTZYYYYYYYYYYYYY Y!!!"

"Whew!" Don said at the song's conclusion.

"Ahem." Dan said, rather expectantly, "You still owe me a birthday present."

***

Yes, that was just one greedy memory of many of this boy. Avaritia, Unboxed Evil of Greed knew this boy was the perfect host to adhere himself to. Now, the newly Unboxed Evils did not possess legs, like humans, but rather ghost-like tails, not unlike Casper or a Dusknoir. When they adhered to a host, the tip of that tail is adhered to the prospective host's navel. Even after being adhered to a host, Avaritia remained hovering behind them.

The host is none the wiser of the adherence, and remains in control of their falculties, even when the Unboxed Evil "consumes" them. It was a bit of a misnomer, but it was when the Unboxed Evil took control over them, as Avaritia was quick to demonstrate.

It pushed its right arm into the boy's matching arm, which caused Dan to become dull and complacent, his eyes unfocused and pupils dilated. His left arm just hung loosely, almost as if dead, flopping as the body moved. Avaritia pushed its other arm up Dan's spine and into his skull. Dan's eyes remained the same and his face blank of all and any emotion.

Avaritias bent Dan's right arm whilst his left dangled, as if numb. It could use its antennae to loosely animate the arm, but Dan was alone, as he often was, and it didn't want to. Avaritia flexed the fingers, enjoying the experience.

"It has been so long since I had adhered to anyone," Avaritia said, through Dan, using his voice. This was one of the limits of this host adherence thing, they can only speak in the language or languages their host knows, though they can speak with a vocabulary the hosts do not possess ordinarily. And when they speak, it was just an open-and-shut movement with no lip articulation whatsoever. These adhered hosts, when "consumed", had the facial animation range of a basic Muppet. "So long. So long since I been free. . . ."

Of course, while the Unboxed Evils may be perfectly invisible to those with human-level eyesight or weaker, it was perfectly obvious that something was off with Dan, at least when he was "consumed" by Greed. But the thing was -- the Unboxed Evils, while able, don't keep their hosts in this "consumed" form. Proved by the fact that, after a few moments, Avaritia pulled its arms out of the boy, returning control to the boy who remained oblivious to his body being occupied in such a way, or the fact that Greed had adhered itself to him.

[redtailedsaffa]

What just happened.

I think I should read that again at some time that is not 3 am.

[Cloak]

And when it's 3 a.m. for me, it's afternoon for you. Yep, it's still August 25 here. And I'm babbling. Maybe I need sleep, too.

Book XCVII: "The Box" -- The RAFians must cage thirteen Revenants released from Pandora's Box -- each representing and amplifying a particular feeling (i.e. hatred), while looking for the perfect host.

Yeah, this was before I wrote the outline of this book. There aren't gonna be 13, but seven.

Since I'm posting this now, the next chapter will probably be after work tomorrow. That'll probably be wround 1 AM your time, Saffa.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
A Tipping of the Hat

Cloak was still recovering from that sense, he had met up with Demos (who had just inexplicably possessed a cow*), Saffa (who had just returned from class), and falc0, an intelligent, allegedly morph-capable kestral (who was preening himself after a a particularly difficult kill, perched in a sycamore tree) just outside the forum.

"Hiya Cl-- what's wrong?" Saffa said, switching tack mid-sentence.

"Moo." Demos commented.

"Again, Demos?" Cloak said. "What's your thing about being beef?"

"Yeah, don't you know thwt it's what's for dinner?" Saffa said, rather wanely. She was weary enough to make her a little loopy. "Or however that slogan went."

"Moooooooooooo . . ."

"You know that I don't speak cow," Cloak sighed.

Demos looked at Saffa.

"Moo?"

"Now that's just racist," Saffa said. "Or speciesist, I don't know. It was a long, exhausting day. Give me a break."

"Moooooooooooo . . ."

"Don't hand me that," Saffa said, guessing what he was saying. Then she facepalmed. "I'm talking to a cow."

"Nothing wrong with that," Cloak said, recalling a particularly friendly bovine Realm Walker acquaintance from his grade school days.

"Moo!"

"In any case, I think that this has gone on long enough," she replied. She slapped Demos's bovine backside, "Get out of ther Demos!"

"Moo!"

"Did you just say no?"

"Moo!"

"Fine." Saffa said, placing her hand on the cow's tough hide, and began to acquire it. Demos really didn't care for the trance-like state that came with the acquiring of DNA. The cow vomited up and belched up black smoke which quickly solidified into Demos, wearing a rather rumpled silk suit.

"That," Demos sniffed, "was unnecessary."

"You think I want a cow morph? I mean, when am I ever going to use it?" Saffa countered. "You could have simply --"

"Mooo." Demos said. He hadn't possessed the cow again -- which had just wandered off in an sort of dazed stupidity.

"Hilari--"

Cloak whipped around suddenly, launching a scarlet-gold energy tether at some unseen foe, with falc0 shrieked in alarm, but not because the tether shot feet away from his tree. But that's because he saw what apparently only Saffa could not see.

"Cloak! What's the deal!"

Falc0 gave her a skeptical glare, as if he couldn't believe she could not see what was so obviously there.

Meanwhile, he had just tethered something with a head like Cthulu, with tentacles atop its head, and no legs. It was Superbia. Pride.

Cloak's innate pride, coming from a very prideful family and species, had attracted it, but it could never adhere to Cloak. Realm Walkers don't have navels. They are hatched from Life-Light Eggs, not developed in a mother's womb.

"Superbia?" Demos gasped, as he got a better look at it. "But . . . that's . . . that's not possible."

"How so?" falc0 said**, speaking for the first time in a while. It managed to break free of the energy tether, and vanish away.

"It was in the Box!" Demos proclaimed.

"The . . . the Box?" Saffa asked. "That sounds like a rather shady item."

"Wait a minute . . ." falc0 said, slowly.

"This box," Cloak said, rounded on Demos. "Is it the box that I think it is?"

Demos looked strained, and said, "It was supposed to be in the Box . . . Pandora's Box."


* Just a little something Demos would do in chat sometimes, in the days when he was, you know, active.

** We have a talking seal. A talking kestral shouldn't be all that farfetched.

[redtailedsaffa]

Yeah, and he's Chinese, too. Random fact.

[Cloak]

Okay . . .

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
The Madness of the C.E.O.

Meanwhile, Luxuria had searched fora host to adhere itself to. It scouted a C.E.O. with a rather lecherous reputation. Considered to be a very poor C.E.O. by the lowest echelons of his company, and his board. But he was also the owner of the company. His name was Oscar Jeremiah Steele.

His assistant, Zachary Zu, was not very impressed with his boss. If he didn't need this job, he'd probably quit. Zu wasn't too happy with all the blatant corruption in the corporation either.

Oscar said, before translating into song:

"Zu, why am I not loved?
I am that rare and awesome thing!
I'm every inch a king.
Yet I feel a twinge of doubt,
As I go walk about."

A trio of hired goons, inexplicably dressed as '50s gangsters, came in. Came in, unasked and unbidden. There was two male and one female human -- Bonnie, Clyde, and Ed.

"Hey, boss!" one shouted. But Steele continued:

"When my name is whispered with or without pride,
Is this talk of love or regicide?"

Bonnie asked, "Reggie who?"

Steele continued as if he wasn't interrupted.

"Tell me I'm adored.
Please tell me I'm adored."

Clyde said, "Hey, boss!"

Steele, irritated, said, "Oh, what is it?"

Clyde said, "We got a bone to pick with you."

Bonnie said, "There's no food, no water . . ."

Clyde said, "Yeah. It's dinnertime, and there ain't no stinkin' entrées!"

Steele snapped, "Oh, you and your petty complaints! You don't know what real hunger is. Day after day it gnaws at the very core of my being. Ingrates! If it weren't for me, you'd be beating off rats for your next bite!"

Then the three sang, sycophantically:

"Yeah, you're our savior, thanks a bunch!
But how about some lunch?
My bones have moved to where they've never been!
They are on the outside looking in!"

"Are you blaming me?!" Steele demanded.

"Oh no!" the three denied, "It's dietary department!"

"Ah." Steele said, apparently satisfied with this.

The trio sang:

"You are so adored.
Oh, you are so adored."

"That's more like it!" Steele declared.

Then the trio sang:

"But what I'd give for one more hit
Of mac and cheese with kielbasa,
Or maybe a pig on the spit . . ."

"Oh, how I miss Felix!" Zu blurted, unable contain himself.

"Felix?! Felix?! How dare you!" Steele growled, as the trio scampered away. "I told you never to mention that name!"

"Note taken. I shall never mention "m-m-m" again." Zu spoke meekly.

"Even in death, his shadow looms over me." Steele said, wearily. Then he thought he saw Felix. "There he is! No! There he is! And there!"

"Calm yourself, Sir, or you'll get another one of your splitting headaches!" Zu declared.

Steele sang:

"I am perfectly fine!
I'm better than Felix was.
I'm revered!
I am reviled.
I'm idolized!
I am despised.
I'm keeping calm--
I'm going wild!
I tell myself I'm fine.
Yes, I am -- no, you're not!
Yes, I am -- no, you're not,
I tell myself I'm fine.
No, you're not -- yes, I am!
No, you're not -- yes I am!
No, you're not!
Yes, no, yes, no, who am I talking to...?"

"Oh, pull yourself together, Sir!" Zu said.

"Oh, very well." Steele said. "Zu? Zu, Zu, Zu . . . ?"

"Yes, Sir?" Zu said, wanely.

"Nobody loved me," Steele whined, "there's the rub, not even as a kid! What did my brother have that I don't have?"

"Do you want the short list or the long?" Zu said.

"Whatever!" Steele said, dully.

"Well, he had adoring employees . . . a loving family . . . a devoted wife . . ." Zu said, listing them off on his fingers.

"That's it! I need a wife!"

"A what?"

"A wife, man! A wife! Without a wife, what am I? A dead end, no line, no descendants, no future! With a wife, I'll have kids . . ." Steele said, "Immortality will be mine! Immortality will be mine!"

A worker, dressed all prim and proper, named Thalia came into the overly opulent office. "Steele."

"Ah, Thalia . . . your timing couldn't have been more perfect." he said. Then his voice turned lecherous. "My, how you've grown!"

"Steele, you have got to do something. We're being forced to be overworked!"

"She's got those assets feminine."

"You're the boss. Control the executives!"

"I have to make her mine!"

"You're destroying the company."

"Nobility in every gene!"

"If we don't stop now. . . don't you see. . . ."

"She has to be my queen."

". . . There's still a chance for things to be all right again . . ."

"Come, sweet Thalia,
It's written in the stars!"

"What are you doing? Are you listening to me?"

"We'll create a host of little terrors!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Tell me I'm adored."

"Get away from me!"

"Tell me I'm adored -- "

SMACK!!

Steele grunted, "Oh, Thalia . . . you know how I loathe violence. . . . One way or another, you will be mine."

"Never, Steele. Never!" she declared as she fled.

"You belong to me!
You all belong to me!"

Luxuria had made its decision. It adhered to Steele and briefly "consumed" him, before pulljng back out. Yes, this host would do.

[guitarhero01234]

. . . Exactly how much acid did I drop before reading this chapter?

[redtailedsaffa]

I'll have whatever you're having.

[Cloak]

I do suppose that it is a bit surreal.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Blow His Stack

Ira, the Unboxed Evil of Wrath, was scouting a host, and he found a particular man named Dylan Rosenbaum.

Dylan Rosenbaum was a small fellow with a big mouth and a prominent, rounded, bulbous nose. He has a temper as short as he is, often drawing his guns on anyone who dares to defy him -- if he guns, that is. He wears a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. He was reckless, very stubborn, and hates it when he's wrong. He possesses a mean and somewhat vindictive streak.

Currently, he was reciting his life story in an effort to stem his anger, his wrath. He had anger issues, obviously.

"I had a toy train when I was young
But a wheel fell off and it wouldn't run.
And oooooohh!!!
I blew my stack!
Daddy sent me to school, but things got weird.
When the kids made fun of my long, red beard.
And oooooohh!!!
I blew my stack!
The Merchant Marine kept my temper at bay.
Until a seal looked at me the wrong way.
And oooooohh!!!
I blew my stack!
Aw, man!
So I worked at the library. Peaceful place.
But people kept turning their books in late.
And oooooohh!!!
I blew my stack!
Well, I try to stay calm, cool as ice.
But somebody says something that's just not nice.
Deep inside I just don't feel right.
I'm like a walking stick of lit dynamite.
I'm about to blow, you better go!
You're about to guest star on the "Blow My Stack Show"
Show, show!
Anger management class says "count to 10".
But I only get to three and then...
Guess what?
I blow my stack!"

Ira wasted no time and adhered itself to Rosenbaum. It "consumed" him briefly and then oulled back out Rosenbaum's body.

[redtailedsaffa]

I'm surprised I didn't attract Sloth, but then again, I work a lot more as a RAFian than as a student.

[Cloak]

Yeah, getting 10,000 posts isn't easy work.

Well, unless you're Steph.

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Pandora's Panic

Oh, the embarrassment.

Several millenia of success, of having reclaimed all the Evils of the Box, of having somewhat undone the damage her curiosity had done. She didn't have any curiosity of what lay within the box. She knew. She knew full well.

And she would keep them there. She would guard the Box personally. She didn't know when precisely it changed from a jar to a box, but she didn't sweat the semantics. Things were bound to change over such a length of time, even she did. She didn't even remember if she used to be a mortal or was always a Titan, but she didn't consider that really all that important to remember.

All that mattered was that the Box never be opened again. That the Evils contained within never be released up on the Earth ever again. She could not allow her mistake to be repeated.

And through all these years, she never let her guard down. Not once. Not ever.

Then she started getting into that show* -- one that she refused to say out loud, due to it being such a guilty pleasure -- and she started to get lax on her guarding of the Box . . . but the show was just that good! She just had to know what happened next. She had to know.

It turns out her curiosity had never really, truly left her. But she was allowing it to consume her, allowing it to occupy her thoughts most times. She knew of the dangers of such a powerful curiosity, but she could not help herself.

It was during this show -- which she totally got too into, going as far as to yell at the television she had about the characters moves and motivations. This was the moment that her security with the box was at its most lax.

And Malice easily capitalised on it. While she was in one of her rants at her television, Malice stole into the room, and took the Box without any notice whatsoever. When the show ended, Pandora was panicky and fretful when she quickly discovered what happened.

She swiftly abandoned her tower home, and fled to the streets, desperately and fruitlessly looking for her Box. It was almost futile, as it could be anywhere. . . . But, suddenly, she knew. She knew that it had been opened.

"Pandora, I presume?" said a cloaked figure to her right. His right palm held some sort of glowing sigil. He was accompanied by an odd-looking dinosaur, a rather disgruntled kestral, an armored vampire, a demon with a fondness of silk suits, and two humans, one with a guitar slung over his shoulder who looked as if he was yanked out of bed and the other looking more prim and proper.

"Who wants to know?"

"Oh, now she's careful!" the demon said, stuffily.

"Demos," the cloaked figure said, and the demon was silenced.

"We need your Box," the prim human said -- a female. "We happened to have come upon one the Eviks that was supposed to be in it. I g-guess."

"Mortals cannot see the Evils," she said, haughtily.

"Oh, lose the tone, girl," the vampire said. "Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone, and all that."

Pandora said nothing, humbled by a vampire.

"You don't have it, do you?" the cloaked one said.


* I kept this deliberately vague. What show was it? Well, that's up to your imagination.

[guitarhero01234]

The 700 Club? Keeping Up With the Kardashians?





The O'Reilly Factor?

[redtailedsaffa]

Desperate Housewives.