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Paddington

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Nihil Obstat

You could keep the same characters and stuff......... just with a new story. <_< Srsly, my lame quota is destroyed for the day now.

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SaintOfVirtue

Albert is the ordinary pizza delivery boy. He works part of the neighborhood which, he complains, never tips high enough, but he'll do what he can for a few bucks to get himself into college.

"Hey, Al, we've got an order here's the address." his boss said as he handed him the receipt with the order information and the address written on it.

"Hmm, I've never heard of this street before, where's it at?" Albert asked looking at the greasy receipt in his hand.

"It's over on the east side of town. Maybe one or two people still live there...they say there's a deserted haunted Victorian mansion over there...they say its huanted by the ghosts of people who went to a ballroom party there...and never came out! MUW HAHA Ha haha ha!"

"Thanks Bob, you should know by now: your crazy #$% stories don't scare me. I don't believe in ghosts." Albert told his boss, not a glimmer of belief in the ghost-tale in his eyes.

"Yeah, here's the pizza, and I hope you don't talk to our customers like that." Bob handed Albert the pizza and then cuffed him on the head for his colorful vocabulary.

It had just started to rain as Albert got in his car. The dim light was a tell-tale sign of an early evening sun, which would soon give way to night.

"Ghosts, my left foot." Albert said as he left the parking lot. Little did he know this could be his last delivery.

Edited by SaintOfVirtue
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Not A Mallard

[quote name='SaintOfVirtue' date='26 June 2010 - 11:10 PM' timestamp='1277604643' post='2134704']
Albert is the ordinary pizza delivery boy. He works part of the neighborhood which, he complains, never tips high enough, but he'll do what he can for a few bucks to get himself into college.

"Hey, Al, we've got an order here's the address." his boss said as he handed him the receipt with the order information and the address written on it.

"Hmm, I've never heard of this street before, where's it at?" Albert asked looking at the greasy receipt in his hand.

"It's over on the east side of town. Maybe one or two people still live there...they say there's a deserted haunted Victorian mansion over there...they say its huanted by the ghosts of people who went to a ballroom party there...and never came out! MUW HAHA Ha haha ha!"

"Thanks Bob, you should know by now: your crazy #$% stories don't scare me. I don't believe in ghosts." Albert told his boss, not a glimmer of belief in the ghost-tale in his eyes.

"Yeah, here's the pizza, and I hope you don't talk to our customers like that." Bob handed Albert the pizza and then cuffed him on the head for his colorful vocabulary.

It had just started to rain as Albert got in his car. The dim light was a tell-tale sign of an early evening sun, which would soon give way to night.

"Ghosts, my left foot." Albert said as he left the parking lot. Little did he know this could be his last delivery.
[/quote]
Do I...?

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[quote name='SaintOfVirtue' date='27 June 2010 - 12:05 AM' timestamp='1277607903' post='2134733']does that mean I should just continue anyways?
[/quote]

I think so.

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[quote name='SaintOfVirtue' date='26 June 2010 - 11:10 PM' timestamp='1277604643' post='2134704']
Albert is the ordinary pizza delivery boy. He works part of the neighborhood which, he complains, never tips high enough, but he'll do what he can for a few bucks to get himself into college.

"Hey, Al, we've got an order here's the address." his boss said as he handed him the receipt with the order information and the address written on it.

"Hmm, I've never heard of this street before, where's it at?" Albert asked looking at the greasy receipt in his hand.

"It's over on the east side of town. Maybe one or two people still live there...they say there's a deserted haunted Victorian mansion over there...they say its huanted by the ghosts of people who went to a ballroom party there...and never came out! MUW HAHA Ha haha ha!"

"Thanks Bob, you should know by now: your crazy #$% stories don't scare me. I don't believe in ghosts." Albert told his boss, not a glimmer of belief in the ghost-tale in his eyes.

"Yeah, here's the pizza, and I hope you don't talk to our customers like that." Bob handed Albert the pizza and then cuffed him on the head for his colorful vocabulary.

It had just started to rain as Albert got in his car. The dim light was a tell-tale sign of an early evening sun, which would soon give way to night.

"Ghosts, my left foot." Albert said as he left the parking lot. Little did he know this could be his last delivery.
[/quote]


"Bob is such a @#(*)&$()* idiot!" says Al punching the dash then giggling to himself. Their rivalry, built on mutual disrespect and intense loathing, served an important purpose for both of them, because the days at Pizza Shack Den felt as degrading as they were boring and the paychecks were below the Mendoza Line for pizza professionals. Their arguments were at once petty and highly symbolic, a never-ending contest of responsibility and moxie, experience and zeal, attention span and relevance, and impotence vs. HPV.

"Oh well, college is coming up and then it's gonna be Girls! Girls! Girls!," Albie thinks as he pulls up to the mansion, the sun disappearing. Brown furry bats sleep next to the doorpost thru the howling doorbell framed in cowbones. A paunchy middle-aged man, not unlike Bob in appearance or gait, answers the door with a blank, tormented stare behind thick glasses. "I need your help," says the big, sad dufus.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT DOOR YOU LITTLE MONSTER," screeches the manly witch lady from upstairs.
Who is she calling a monster? Before the question could be researched, an elf stole Albie's keys from his pocket and ran into the dark at roach-like speed.

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SaintOfVirtue

[quote name='Paddington' date='27 June 2010 - 06:05 AM' timestamp='1277643905' post='2134836']
"Bob is such a @#(*)&$()* idiot!" says Al punching the dash then giggling to himself. Their rivalry, built on mutual disrespect and intense loathing, served an important purpose for both of them, because the days at Pizza Shack Den felt as degrading as they were boring and the paychecks were below the Mendoza Line for pizza professionals. Their arguments were at once petty and highly symbolic, a never-ending contest of responsibility and moxie, experience and zeal, attention span and relevance, and impotence vs. HPV.

"Oh well, college is coming up and then it's gonna be Girls! Girls! Girls!," Albie thinks as he pulls up to the mansion, the sun disappearing. Brown furry bats sleep next to the doorpost thru the howling doorbell framed in cowbones. A paunchy middle-aged man, not unlike Bob in appearance or gait, answers the door with a blank, tormented stare behind thick glasses. "I need your help," says the big, sad dufus.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT DOOR YOU LITTLE MONSTER," screeches the manly witch lady from upstairs.
Who is she calling a monster? Before the question could be researched, an elf stole Albie's keys from his pocket and ran into the dark at roach-like speed.
[/quote]

hmmm...ahhuh.....maybe....nope I got nothin'.

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