Just a bit of fan stuff with Marisa

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Marisa
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Just a bit of fan stuff with Marisa

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Hey everyone!
I'm new here and still trying to acquaint myself to the Soda Shop, but I have a few fanfics and art that I've been wanting to share for a while.

This is the first fanfic I ever wrote and it surprisingly won a fanfic contest on aio insider last year! I've gotten to where I don't really care for it anymore... hopefully I've improved a bit since ha ha. Please let me know any thoughts or how I can improve! :)

Reunion
It was a bright and sunny day when I finally returned to Odyssey. I drove my old clunker of a truck through the streets fondly, recognizing the old businesses whose windows I’d washed and remembering the people who’d owned them. Just ahead—at the end of the street on the edge of McAlister Park—sat the building I most wanted to see—Whit’s End. The old building looked the same as ever. It was an old Victorian style house. It looked similar to a pile of wooden building blocks dumped randomly on the floor with towers and high sloping roofs. Children played outside, enjoying the bright sunshine while families went in and out of the friendly double doors. I carefully edged my truck alongside the road by the sidewalk and shifted the gear to park. Taking my keys, I swung the door open and stepped out onto the familiar footing. I was surprised at how normal it felt, despite the many years I had been gone. For once I was grateful for the Walton Family Reunion as it allowed me to revisit my old stomping grounds. Since Maude and I had moved to Florida, things had felt a little empty. I took a breath, stuck out my chin and strode towards the front door. I hadn’t told anyone that I would be in town. They’ll be surprised alright. I pushed open the door quietly as to not cause a disturbance. Ah… that beautiful bell. It tinkled cheerfully as the door moved. Whit’s End was a flurry of activity. Children were everywhere. Some sat on the barstools at the counter, sipping sodas or devouring sundaes. Others sat with their families in booths along the wall, laughing together as they ate their ice cream. In a corner booth, I noticed Wooton Bassett, my old mailman. While annoying most of the time, he was a good friend. He wore the same blue Moose Mail uniform that I had been so used to seeing, indicating he was detouring his route. His fiery red—and very curly—hair sat smooshed under a cap that lay lopsided on his head. He sat across from a young, blonde-haired woman with thick framed glasses. Despite the sweltering heat outside, she wore a sweater and a fuzzy hat. Interesting that Wooton had a lady friend… I decided to ask about her later. I strode to the counter and took a seat on one of the empty stools, a mischievous smile on my face. Eugene Meltsner hurried over to take my order. He didn’t recognize me yet. I blinked in mild surprise at the sight of him, however. After all these years, he finally cut his hair. I noticed for the first time that his eyes were periwinkle blue.
“Greetings and salutations kind sir! Welcome to Whit’s End! How may I be of assistance?”
I broke into a grin at Eugene’s standard method of greeting. Despite his new look, that boy hadn’t changed a bit.
“Well, Eugene,” I drawled, “you can start by getting me a Wod-Fam-Choc-Sod.” I can see the wheels turning in Eugene’s brain. He stared with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out.
“M-m-m-mi-mister Walton!!” He spluttered. I couldn’t help but laugh. His eyes bulged and his eyebrows rose so high they went past his—now higher—hairline. I reached over the counter and clapped him on the back
“Hey there Eugene! Nice to see you again.”
“Mister Walton!” He exclaimed again, his voice rising past his stuttering squeak. “You’re here! This is beyond believability! It’s been so long—”
A familiar voice came from behind the kitchen doors, “Who’s here?”
The doors pushed open to reveal Connie Kendall, drying her wet hands with a dish towel. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she wore a t-shirt and jeans. She glanced at Eugene and then towards where I sat at the counter. Her jaw dropped and the towel fell to the ground.
“BERNARD!!” In a flash she was beside me and gave me a huge hug, which I returned. “Bernard! I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you here! Why didn’t you call and tell us you were coming??” She released me and I took a deep breath. That girl could sure squeeze!
I chuckled, “Well Connie, I was just passing through for a family reunion and I thought I’d drop in. Boy, this place hasn’t changed a bit! Except for the people.” I glanced pointedly at Eugene. By this time, curious bystanders had started to drift over towards the counter.
“Did you want to see Whit?” Connie asked, “He’s out on an errand but he should be back soon. Do you want me to give him a call? I should give him a call—”
I held up a hand, “No, no, no. Don’t call him Connie.” She shot me a questioning look and I saw Eugene raise an eyebrow. I smiled, “Don’t you think it will be better to surprise him?”
Connie pocketed her cell phone with a mischievous smile, “Yeah, I guess it would.”
“Meanwhile, can someone get going on my soda? I’m thirstier than a camel on a treadmill!” Eugene nodded enthusiastically.
“Of course, Mister Walton! Fear not, I, Eugene Meltsner, am on the job! You shall have your soda momentarily.” With that, he disappeared into the kitchen. I snorted. Yup. Eugene was definitely still Eugene. At least he didn’t lecture my on my sugar intake…
Suddenly an annoying, high-pitched, excited voice came from behind me.
“Bernard! You’re back! Wow, it’s so great to see you again!” I turned to see Wooton Bassett beside me. Normally I would have groaned, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen him that I decided to go along with it.
“Hello Wooton, long time no see.” I said. I noticed the blonde girl had followed him and stood just behind him. I opened my mouth to ask about her when the floodgates suddenly opened and Wooton began talking again. Connie joined in and together they began telling me all the happenings in Odyssey since I’d left. I listened until they began babbling about some green ring and a carnival, then I tuned them out. It was a skill that took years of practice to master, but it came back easily. Eugene set a chocolate soda in front of me. I took a sip and focused on the shop’s front windows. To the commoner’s first look, they appeared quite clean. But my practiced eye from years of window washing could spot several smudged fingerprints. I stiffened. There was even a dusty spot left in the corner! Whoever had taken over my job was not a suitable replacement. I reminded myself to speak to Whit about that later when Connie’s shrill voice shattered my thoughts.
“Whit’s back! Everyone be quiet!” The shop quieted, so silent that you could hear a cat with mittens walk across a carpeted floor. Then, the little bell above the door sounded and in walked Whit. He had the same wild hair, the same glasses, and the same wisdom-filled gaze. He had slimmed down a lot since I’d last seen him. I cringed, realizing that the same probably would’ve happened to me if I’d been around Connie for too much longer. I groaned inwardly at the memory of Connie as my health instructor. Whit suddenly paused at the doorway, noticing all eyes were on him. His gaze traveled the room.
“What’s going on?” Then his eyes fell upon where I sat at the counter and his mouth fell open.
“Hiya Whit! It’s been a while!”
“Bernard!” Whit grinned. We hugged, slapping each other on the back.
“Well stuff me with feathers and call me a pillow, Whit! You look great!” I said.
Whit laughed “So do you Bernard! Why didn’t you call and tell us you were coming?!”
“That’s what I said.” I heard Connie mumble.
“Well… I didn’t want to make too much of a big deal.”
“Too much of a big deal?” Connie exclaimed, “Bernard we haven’t seen you in forever! Of course this is a big deal!!”
I took a sip of my soda and grinned. By now, everyone was clustered in a group around me. Some were old friends, others, I didn’t recognize.
“How is life in Florida?” questioned Whit.
“Oh, it’s warm. Maude appreciates the pool. Not very many window jobs though. Speaking of which, Whit, who do you have doing your windows? I’d like to teach em’ a thing or two about window washing…” I end, muttering my dissatisfaction with the cleaning job.
“Oh! Bernard!” Connie spoke up suddenly, “There’s a bunch of people I want you to meet!” She waved to the girl behind Wooton, “Penny! Come here!”
I sipped my soda and raised an eyebrow, curious as to why Wooton followed Penny over.
“Bernard this is Penny!” Connie explained as I shook Penny’s hand. “She was my old roommate and—”
“My wife!” Wooton exclaimed, finishing for Connie.
I choked on my soda and Eugene rushed to my side.
“Mister Walton! Do you require assistance? I have been trained and certified to administer the Heimlich maneuver!”
“No, no, no Eugene!” I shoved him away. I was just surprised. Scratch that, I was dumbstruck. Wooton? Married? I never would have believed that in a thousand years… well, maybe 20 years. I shook myself out of my thoughts, realizing they were waiting for my reply.
“Good for you Wooton.” I managed to stutter.
“Aw thanks Bernard!” Wooton said, giving Penny a hug. “I’m glad you finally got to meet my Penny!”
Everyone began talking all at once. I glanced around the room. Only one person was missing: Tom. I remembered when I had received the news last year that Tom had passed away. It was a hard time for everyone. Memories flashed back of the times we had together: camping trips, fishing trips, and just talking to each other. Tom was a close friend, one of the closest I’ve ever had. I pushed away the sadness and glanced at my friends. Here we were once again. All together. I dreaded having to leave again for the reunion. I sat back in my chair and sipped my chocolate soda and shoved away the worry. No use in letting it spoil my time with friends. There was so much to catch up on!
“So, Whit, what have I missed?”
"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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MonkeyDude
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This is your first story?? No way man haha! This is so great! Bernard is such a classic character and I love the closure you gave him here! I really enjoyed this!
*Finger guns aggressively*
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ASmouseInTheHouse
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I read this story when it was on the Aio Insider a few years ago. I really like it!
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
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ByeByeBrownie
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This is GREAT!!! You did a fantastic job of capturing each character's personality and voice.

I'd love to see more!
Shiyanne Rylie Steele

Buck and Jules Shipper
Wooton is the best character on Odyssey ever. Fight me.


"It's not that we don't make sense, it's that we have a different way of looking at things that do make sense." ~Wooton Bassett
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Carl
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Great job Marisa!! I love this!
Buckles shipper. Visit my Odyssey website at http://odyssey-news.com/.


Trista: Isn't it great to be an indevidual now, not just someone who wears what society tells them to wear?
Jules: But your telling my what to wear.
Trista: Of course, I'm your publicist, it's my job.

~#902 California Dreams, Part 1~
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Marisa
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Aah thanks everyone for your kind comments!

I have another fanfic that I wrote a while back after listening to "Crash Course".

Surprise
Jason’s POV
I let out a sigh as I make my way down the sidewalk. The snow crunches under my feet with every step. It’s another dreary February day in Odyssey. Every day has been the same lately. Get up. Shower. Eat. Walk to J and J’s Antiques. Go home. Sleep. Repeat. A never ending cycle. I’ve been wanting to spend more time at Whit’s End lately, but I haven’t been able to pull myself away from work. Every day there’s been another call about an estate sale, or someone finds a potential valuable. Life has just spiraled into a routine. I come to a crossroad. The most direct route towards the shop is to my left, through downtown. There’s almost no traffic today and very few pedestrians. No one’s crazy enough to be out in the cold slush. To my right is McAlister park. Maybe I could use a change of scenery and take the long way through the park. Who knows? I might just stop in to Whit’s End. I glance back towards downtown and back towards the park. The park it is, I decide. I stroll through the park casually. The snow is melted in some places leaving mushy green patches of grass. The trees are hideously bare without a covering of snow, adding to the overall dreariness of the day. Everything is dead quiet… strange. Up ahead I can see Whit’s End; it’s a pop of color against the gray tones of February. As I get closer, I squint. There’s a sign on the front door. “CLOSED” It reads. I frown. Is something wrong? Dad never said anything about closing Whit’s End today… for a second, I think about sending him a call to make sure everything’s ok but I decide against it and continue on my route around the park. As I make my way out of the park, my phone rings. I quickly fish it out of my pocket, my cold fingers fumbling. The phone display reads “DAD”. What a coincidence, I think as I tap the answer call button and bring it to my ear, then again, Dad says there are no such things as coincidences…
“Hey Dad” I answer
There is a staticky sound on the other end, then my Dad’s voice comes through.
“Jason! I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Uh, sure. Whaddya need?”
“I was wondering if you could drop off a couple of tubs of ice cream at Whit’s End. We’re running low on some flavors.”
I raise an eyebrow, “What for? Whit’s End is closed today. Speaking of which, what’s with that?”
“Oh, I had to run a few errands today. Connie and Eugene are both busy so no one could watch the shop. I forgot to restock yesterday so I was wondering if you could do it for me today.”
“Yeah sure. Which flavors do you want me to get?”
“Two vanilla and two chocolate. I already have them in the freezer in the garage at the house. I just want them in the big freezer at Whit’s End.”
“Okie doke. I’ll get that done for you.”
“Thanks Jason! Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
I hung up my phone and returned it to my pocket. That was a bit strange, I think. I wonder what errand Dad had to run that would make him have to close up the shop. With a shrug I turn around and head back the way I came. The trip was uneventful. Back at the house, I rummaged through the freezer in the small garage. Sure enough, I found two tubs each of vanilla and chocolate ice cream. Closing the freezer, I went back inside to retrieve two plastic bags and my car keys. I decide to drive rather than carry two heavy bags of ice cream all the way across the park. I placed the bags—each with two tubs of ice cream—in the front seat on the passenger’s side of my car. I then walk around and get in the driver’s side. I turn the keys in the ignition and listen as the engine rumbles to life. I then back carefully out of the garage and onto the road. I flick on the radio. I know it’s a short drive to Whit’s End, but it’s nice to have something to fill the silence—Oh great… I’ve managed to tune in to Bryan Dern in the middle of a weather report.
“—and coming up this week are MORE COLD TEMPERATURES! I mean you’d think with this thaw that maybe spring was FINALLY coming but NO! Coming up this Thursday you can expect snow, snow, and more snow! And don’t even get me started on Friday’s forecast—”
I quickly flick the radio off again and roll my eyes. ugh. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any drearier. I pull into a parking space along the road that runs past Whit’s End and turn the ignition off. The building actually looks quite dead without the kids playing on the lawn and the cheerful lights in the windows. Reaching across the vehicle, I grab the bags of ice cream and awkwardly get out of the car. One of the bags snags on the edge of a seat, interrupting my momentum and throwing me off balance so I nearly drop the other bag. I quickly recover and glance around at my surroundings. Man, I hope no one saw that. I readjust my grip on the heavy bags and stride up the sidewalk up to Whit’s End’s front porch. I adjust the bags so I’m holding both in my left hand and fumble for my keys with my right. Inserting it into the lock, I give a twist and push the door at the same time. You have to unlock it in a specific way for it to open. The door squeaks slightly as it swings open and the little bell above the door sounds. I return my keys to my pocket and awkwardly switch a bag to another hand and push through the door. It’s dark inside. Unfortunately, the light switch is on the other side of the room near the stairs that lead to the second floor. It drives me crazy. What if you trip on something in the middle of the floor on your way to turn on the light? As I’m about to close the door behind me, something on the floor catches my eye. It’s a piece of brightly colored paper… confetti?
“SURPRISE!!!!” a voice suddenly screams from nearby. I jump and nearly drop the bags. One manages to escape my grip and lands heavily on the floor. It was Connie. She stood behind the counter, her hands raised excitedly. A brightly colored party hat sat on her chestnut-brown hair. Suddenly, the lights flick on and,
“Happy Birthday!” A chorus of voices exclaims and everyone else pops out of their hiding places around Whit’s End. My jaw drops in surprise and the other bag falls from my hand. All of my friends had thrown a surprise party for my birthday. My birthday! I had been so busy, I had forgotten! My Dad stood next to Connie behind the counter, an identical party hat on his mop of wild white hair. On Connie’s other side stood her half-sister Jules. Wooton and Penny were also here, standing in one corner of the room partially hidden behind a fake plant. Wooton had three party hats on, and Penny wore camouflaged grease paint. Eugene, Katrina, and Buck peeked out from their hiding spots in the kitchen.
“I-I I don’t know what to say!” I stutter. I’m so surprised my lips don’t want to work.
“Well fortunately I do.” Dad walks from around the counter to stand in front of me. He pulls me into a warm hug, “Happy Birthday Son.”
At that moment, Connie bursts through the kitchen doors. She is holding a white, rectangular cake with the words “Happy B-Day Jason” written in red frosting. She sets it on one of the many tables in Whit’s End and everyone gathers around and begin to sing “Happy Birthday”. I smile and glance around at the friendly faces. Maybe things aren’t as dreary as I first thought.


"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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Marisa
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81tHgeOfV40

So not a story this time, but my friends and I got together to make an aio tribute video. We had a lot of fun coming up with it! :)
"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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ASmouseInTheHouse
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I like how you wrote your story based off that line in Crash Course! It was great. I laughed when Bryan Dern came on the radio :D It would be cool to hear from him again.
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
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Marisa
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ASmouseInTheHouse wrote:
Fri Aug 28, 2020 3:06 pm
I like how you wrote your story based off that line in Crash Course! It was great. I laughed when Bryan Dern came on the radio :D It would be cool to hear from him again.
Thank you! And yes I definitely agree Bryan Dern should come back!
"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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Marisa
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Got another short fic! This is my take on what Wooton's mysterious Wiffle Ball incident might have been. ;)


The Wiffle Ball Incident
There it was again. The infinity symbol with an arrow. Wooton went bug-eyed. “There it is again! The symbol for help! Somebody’s trying to tell you something!” Beside him, Bernard frowned and stepped back from the transformed window.
“Yeah and I’m beginning to get suspicious about it,” the window washer grumbled and set down his squeegee and bucket.
“Suspicious? Because you think someone is recklessly abusing the Power Boy symbol system?”
“No,” Bernard glared at Wooton, a spark in his gray eyes, “because I’m beginning to suspect that this is some kind of a prank. And I may be looking at the prankster.”
Wooton’s eyebrows shot up in innocent surprise. “Me? No way Bernard I don’t do pranks!” He shuddered, “Ever since that incident with my cousin’s wiffle ball bat. That backfired BIG TIME let me tell ya.”
Bernard wiped the window again, a futile attempt to remove the mysterious symbol,“No don’t.”
“It required surgery.” Wooton tempted in a singsong voice.
“I don’t wanna know.” Bernard grunted, still wiping the window.
“Okay…” Wooton responded. Not many people wanted to hear it, except for Connie. He remembered it like it was yesterday.

Power Boy crouched behind the bushes, waiting for the return of his adversary. His super hearing caught the sound of a car door slamming. Around the corner of the house he could just make out the sun’s glint on the green surface of a car. Wooton then grinned in anticipation. It was the last day of his short visit to his cousin’s house. He was sad to leave, but he couldn’t go without some friendly payback for Hadley’s prank on him. On the first day, his cousin had given him a bouquet of pipe cleaners and convinced him it was licorice. In Wooton’s defense it was very well disguised, but his teeth had hurt for hours afterwards. His return prank was going to be so much better. Hadley had a dentist appointment today. Afterwards, the boys had promised to hold a wiffle ball championship to prove who was the better player after a week of arguing about it. Hadley always declared himself the first to bat so Wooton had rigged the game. He left the bright yellow bat lying in the grass where Hadley would pick it up. At the end of the bat he tied a string, which would cause a ball to fall from the roof of the house. The ball would fall onto a makeshift seesaw which would launch a huge gob of mud all over Hadley. It was perfect!
“Wooton!”
Wooton snatched his lucky ball cap—It was his favorite because it had a moose on the front— and ran out of the bushes to meet his younger cousin. Hadley ran around the corner and his freckled face broke into a gap-toothed grin. “Ready to play?”
“I think the correct question is, are you ready to lose?” Wooton snorted, nearly bursting at the seams with anticipation as Hadley stepped closer and closer to the rigged bat.
“Only if you are!” Hadley reached down and grabbed the bat. At that moment, several things happened. The string pulled, the ball fell, and the makeshift catapult launched. It worked perfectly according to Wooton’s design. But he hadn’t calculated on a stray cat deciding to lounge on the launching end of the seesaw. The cat never saw it coming. One moment he had been enjoying a rare sunny spot. The next he was flying through the air with a pile of mud. Hadley squealed as the angry mud-covered cat pelted him in the face. Wooton was frozen with horror as he watched his cousin and the cat roll together on the ground, loosing similar sounding screeches.
“Hadley!” From the corner ran his aunt, and with her was Bradford and Wellington.
His aunt and Bradford together managed to remove the terrified cat from his cousin’s face and drive to the hospital where Hadley received twelve stitches. His aunt was furious, calling Wooton a bad influence and a danger, but Bradford managed to calm her down and Wooton hadn’t gotten into too much trouble, since the result of his prank was mostly an accident. Wellington acted as he usually did about it, muttering under his breath about how “unsophisticated and undignified” his twin was. Hadley was great about it though. He ran up to Wooton joyfully, bragging that he now looked like his favorite comic book villain, Professor Pumpkin. Although everything turned out well, both Wooton and Hadley since then resolved never to prank again. A few weeks later, Wooton received a package from Hadley in the mail. Inside was a packet of licorice.
"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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ASmouseInTheHouse
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Yikes, it's funny that Wooton mentioned 'that incident' with his cousin, before we even knew about Hadley! I had never thought about what the story might be, and it fits perfectly.
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
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Carl
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Agreed!!
Buckles shipper. Visit my Odyssey website at http://odyssey-news.com/.


Trista: Isn't it great to be an indevidual now, not just someone who wears what society tells them to wear?
Jules: But your telling my what to wear.
Trista: Of course, I'm your publicist, it's my job.

~#902 California Dreams, Part 1~
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Marisa
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New AIO video! A scene from A License to Drive.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqNnpDi6CMA
"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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Marisa
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Whoops. It's been a while.

Whit's End Spicy Challenge
“Eugene is the camera running?”
“Affirmative, Jason! All is in order for our little contest of skills.”
Wooton snorted. “The camera’s running? Better go catch it!”
The three men of the Whit’s End gang sat in said establishment’s kitchen at a card table behind a camera. Each had a napkin and a glass of milk. Several other items waited on the table.
Jason turned to the camera and waved excitedly. “Hey there internet surfers!”
“I prefer the term browsers.” Eugene interrupted.
“Internet browsers.” Jason corrected. “Wooton? Why don’t you explain what we’re doing here with a tray of pizza rolls and several quarts of ice cream.”
“It would be, to quote the greatest fried chicken chain in the USA, my pleasure.” Wooton giggled. “This here is soon to be the site of the ultimate challenge, one that I have so cleverly named PIZZA ROLL ROULETTE.”
Jason pumped a fist. “Yeah!!”
“You seem excited for imminent anguish.” Eugene said.
“The rules are simple. We have here, a tray of seemingly innocent pizza rolls. Some are absolutely normal, crispy golden crust on the outside and filled with delicious tomato sauce and cheese... others are filled with California Reaper hot sauce.” Wooton held up a bottle with a skull and crossbones. “This baby is above 116,000 on the heat scale and even has a TERRIFYING name. The Wicked Tickle.” Wooton cackled.
Jason cheered again.
“As you may have guessed,” Eugene said, “Each person must pick a roll to ingest.”
“Last man to chicken out and drink milk wins!” Jason said. “And as we all can tell..” he winked at the camera. “It’s gonna be me.”
“Ah! Au contrary Mary!” Wooton broke in. “You have just signed your doom!”
“I believe you have underestimated my stone faced countenance for spicy foods. I do believe I have a greater chance.” Eugene said indignantly.
Jason and Wooton looked at each other, then at Eugene. Then they burst out laughing.
Eugene stared, blank-faced. Jason had tears in his eyes. “How droll.”
“Alright then gentlemen. It’s time for round one!” Wooton said, lunging forward to pick out a lucky pizza roll.
Eugene took his time, calculating the surface area ratios to determine which would have the highest chance of containing the ill-fated sauce.
Jason just picked the one that was closest.
“Three, two, one...” the men counted down together before popping the rolls into their mouths.
Eugene was clean. He hummed rather pleasantly while watching as Jason and Wooton both just barely managed to swallow their hot sauce rolls.
“Woow.” Wooton said, wide-eyed and face turning red.
Jason was sweating bullets but his face was unbothered. “It’s not too bad...” he said slowly.
“It got worse as I chewed.” Wooton said, looking pained.
“Shall we move on to round two?” Eugene suggested with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes!” Jason grabbed another roll and tossed one to Wooton, who stared at it like it had stolen candy from an elderly woman.
Eugene took his time again and made his best guess. %67.5 percent chance it was safe...
It was. Eugene was again unscathed. Wooton was panting and practically breathing fire. “I feel like there’s an inferno on my tongue! Is this what heartburn feels like?”
Jason took in a breath. “Wow.” Was all he said.
The next round, Wooton got Scott free. Jason again had a spicy one and this time... Eugene guessed incorrectly.
Poor Eugene went wide eyed as soon as the morsel touched his tongue. “WAAAAAAH!” He gagged several times, only barely managing to keep it down.
“Tolerance for spicy foods indeed.” Jason cackled in amusement despite the hellfire that was his mouth.
“Giving up, Mr. Meltsner?” Wooton snickered.
“To quote the vernacular, ‘not by a long shot.’” Eugene rasped.
The next round went on and everything continued to go downhill.
“AAAH I ACCIDENTALLY TOUCHED MY EYES.” Wooton yiped, diving for the milk and dunking his face in.
Eugene gagged again and suddenly dove off the table to the trash can around the corner.
Jason had his head in his hands and sat there, resisting the urge to wolf down ice cream.
It was a complete mess.
“I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!” Wooton screeched like a rogue siren upon tasting yet another imposter pizza roll. The red-headed mailman lunged across the table, flipped off the lid for a quart of ice cream and stuck his entire face into the soothingly cold dessert.
“So…” Jason wheezed, his face red as a ripe tomato as Eugene continued hurling into the trash can around the corner. “Does that mean I won?”
No response from the other two.
“Okay then.” Jason said, finally reaching for the milk and gargling with it.
Connie walked in to see all three men looking entirely wasted. It was a mess in there. She slowly walked back the way she came.
Jason leaned against the table, feeling very bleh.
Victory. Woohoo.
But at what cost.
“This has been Pizza Roll Roulette.” Wooten said meekly as all three sat at the table once more some several minutes later. “I’m never doing this again.”
Jason nodded in agreement while Eugene just whimpered.
“Okay signing off now.” Wooton pushed end recording.
Any feedback is appreciated. I would love to know how I can improve!
"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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Polehaus53
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That was pretty funny! :lol: I liked it, I hope you do more. :yes:
-Signed, PolehausFifty-three

Member of The Emily Rules Klub (est. 2012)

“We have it translated in every language: (กฎของเอมิลี่, Emily es la mejor, 艾米莉规则, Emily Quy tắc!, エミリーは最高です, emilyyay ulesray!, Эмили Правила!, Emily é a melhor, एमिली नियम!, Emily est la meilleure!, إميلي هي الأفضل!, Emily Kuralları!, אמילי שולטת!, Emily Regeln!, 에밀리 담당!, Si Emily ang pinakamahusay!, എമിലി രാജ്ഞിയാണ്!, એમિલી નિયમો!) that Emily RULES!”~The E.R.K.
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Marisa
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Thank you!
"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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Marisa
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A while ago I really got into drabbles. I did one AIO, but I have a lot more from other fandoms... So if you're interested in reading those, let me know and I miiight post them!

Prompt: Bullet

It was a skeleton. A real skeleton with a bullet hole in its shirt. In his shop. Whit shuddered at the thought of how long it had been there. He heard Tom in the background, frantically calling the Odyssey police.

What kind of place was he running that had literal skeletons in its closet? The revelation planted a seed of doubt in Whit's mind.
Running Whit’s End had been a constant struggle, one obstacle after the other. Perhaps he was wrong when he thought God had called him to run the emporium.

He could hear the sirens on their way.
"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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Marisa
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Discovered a Jones and Parker story I wrote a while back for an old Club House Members Mag. I did not, unfortunately, get in with the story.



A good detective knows when to call it quits and relax. I was not a good detective today. It was near freezing outside. After a long school day, Mathew and I went to Whit’s End. But instead of hanging out, we ordered our ice cream and promptly began to study chemistry. We had a big test coming up and I was struggling to understand the different gas laws so Matthew offered to help quiz me.
“Ok,” he flipped through the textbook, “When pressure on a gas is up, volume goes down.”
“Charles’s Law?” I answered hopefully.
“Nope. That’s the relationship between temperature and volume.”
“Ideal gas law?” I guessed again.
“It’s Boyle’s Law” said a different voice from behind me.
I jumped “Morrie!”
Morrie smirked, “A detective like you should pay more attention to her surroundings.”
“I do. You just caught me at a bad time.” I stuttered.
“Can we help you?” Matthew piped up.
“Actually yes.” Morrie slid into the seat next to us and unzipped his backpack. Inside we could see a mess of papers, books, pencils, and a sheet of smiley face stickers. He began to dig around for something when a loud bang grabbed our attention. A small kid stood just inside the door, holding the remains of a once cheery red balloon.
“Not again!” he groaned.
It was Wyatt Perkins, a friend of the Parkers.
“Still working on your new balloon project?” Matthew piped up as we gathered around. I picked up the balloon remains curiously. It had a strange slippery texture to it.
“Yeah.” Wyatt muttered. “I just can’t get it to work right!”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’m trying to invent a new latex-free balloon! The ones in stores smelled funny so I decided to invent something else!” He added smugly “You know it’s proven that long exposure to unpleasant smells can dull your other senses.”
I saw Morrie roll his eyes and Matthew shook his head.
“What happened this time?” asked Matthew. Wyatt waved us all outside to a small set-up he had. He had a rusty canister of helium leaning against the front of Whit’s End, a pressure meter, and a bag of balloons.
“Each time I fill up a balloon, it spontaneously explodes!” He explained.
I examined Wyatt’s balloons. They seemed sturdy enough.
“Why don’t you try again and show us what happened.” Matthew suggested.
Wyatt nodded and promptly filled a new balloon, using the pressure meter to precisely gauge when the balloon was full. Then we waited, all eyes fixed on the big blue balloon. Nothing happened. We all began to shiver with cold. A couple snowflakes drifted down from the gray overcast sky. Morrie sighed,
“I regret leaving my coat. I don’t know about you, but I’m going inside.” We all murmured agreement and followed him inside where it was warm. We waited some more. After a few minutes, Wyatt frowned, examining his balloon.
“I guess the last seven have been a fluke.”
BANG! Wyatt squealed in surprise and we all jumped. Wyatt tossed the remains on the floor and hung his head in defeat.
“I give up! Maybe I’m just not meant for balloon making.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your balloon Wyatt.” I declared suddenly.
“How do you know that?” Morrie asked.
“Simple chemistry,” I grinned.


“We just studied it!” I declared. “You filled the balloon all the way up outside where it’s near freezing.”
Wyatt nodded, “The canisters were too heavy for me to carry all the way inside.”
“According to one of the gas laws in chemistry, Charles’s Law, the temperature and volume of a gas are directly proportional.”
Wyatt blinked, confused. “Okay… what does that mean?”
“When one goes down the other goes down and vice versa. So, when the temperature is low, the gas contracts, or gets smaller—”
Matthew interrupted me “But when it’s high, the gas expands! You filled the balloons all the way up outside where it’s cold. But when you took it inside, where it’s much warmer, the gas expanded and burst your balloon.”
I nodded, “Exactly. So, all you need to do is fill your balloons inside, or at least not fill them as full outside.”
Wyatt nodded again in understanding, “So I guess my balloons aren’t cursed to fail! Thanks!” he ran outside in excitement.
“I’ll help him carry the canisters.” Matthew said and followed soon after.
“Bet you’ll remember this particular gas law in the future.” Morrie smiled.
I grinned, “Definitely. What did you need earlier?” I asked, suddenly remembering our previous conversation.
“Oh, never mind about that. My curiosity has been sated.”
“Oh. Alright.” I said as Morrie slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked away.
I wonder what he meant by that I thought as I returned to my soda.







"Would you like a muffin?" -- Arthur Dent
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