Viewing Single Post From: Sentenal's Bright Idea

Viewing Single Post From: Sentenal's Bright Idea
Rin	Dec 26 2008, 01:18 AM
TOTALLY A MAN Posts: 2,148 Group: Veteran Member #111 Joined: June 10, 2005	Chapter 1 – New Year’s Eve: Goals and Resolutions “10…” The second hand ticked into place in time with the click of the tile onto the scrabble board. ‘PAPER’ it spelled. “9…” Quick as lightning, ‘NIGGA’ appeared on the board, followed by satisfied sniggers. “8…” ‘EXPLICIT’ was there before everyone had time to blink. “7…” “Hey man, that’s a good word,” said one of the players, wondering how he could top the new branch. The EXPLICIT guy grinned with glee. “6…” A hand roved over the row of tiles, searching for a word. “5…” Really he didn’t have to think very hard on it. There were a fair few good letters in there. “4…” Which would give him the most points though? There was a triple word score right there, but how could he reach it? “3…” Well he could spell “HORNY” with that R, but he really wanted to use that Z, especially on a 3xL or 3xW tile. “2…” The clock ticked. “1…” “OMG hurry up! Just put a word down!” *“Happy New Years!!”* Daniel Kang, otherwise known as PR, stood abruptly, stormed to the balcony and leaned over the edge. “Hey, SHUT UP! We’re trying to play Scrabble here!” “It’s New Years!” some nameless face in the party crowd thirty-five stories down in the street outside the hotel yelled back to him. “Do I look like I care?” PR replied. “Seriously, shut up!” “Or what?” the other challenged. PR thought for a moment, then, “Or I’ll call my mom.” “Wtf, you’re gonna call your mom?” The crowd laughed. “Yeah you go crying to your mama, mama’s boy. I’m sure mama wants to hear from you again. It’s probably been like 5 minutes since the last time you called!” PR ignored him. A secret smile crept onto his face as he took out his phone, dialed home and held the phone out towards the crowd. The phone rang thrice then… “KANG MYUNG SUK? MYUNG SUK IS DAT U!? Y U NOT CALL HOME MORE OFTEN? IT’S NEW YEARS! Y U UNGRATEFUL LITTLE—[Censored for obscenities. Trust me. If you knew, you’d thank me.]—GOT DAT!? OK BYE.” PR hung up. There was no reply. No, not because they didn’t know what to say. It was because they were dead. “That may have been a bit much, PR,” Phil laughed as the other sat back down on the table to rejoin the game. Feez nodded, glancing at the clock to check if it really was the start of the new year. “Yeah, your mother is the true Queen of Rage, after all.” “Jokan?” PR replied half sarcastically. Steven Nguyen, affectionately known as PZ, mumbled to himself, still staring at the board. “Dude, just put down a word! You’re too slow!” Phil shouted in exasperation. “Hold on,” PZ answered. “Doing homework.” That he was. He was trying to read Dante whilst playing, hoping to finish the book quickly. Unfortunately, there was just no motivation at all. There was a knock on the door and someone walked in without waiting for an invitation. Sentenal slammed the door behind him (unintentionally, of course) and pulled up a sofa to the table. “Guys, this convention thing sucks. Too many people are really annoying.” Yes. The first truly successful (and large) FEFF convention was taking place in a 35 story hotel. “Well you didn’t have to invite every single active member of FEFF,” PZ said as he made to pick up a tile, thought better of it and thought some more. “You should’ve just invited the good people.” “I dunno,” Sentenal replied heatedly. “How would I pick out which are the good ones?” Feez waved a hand in front of his face. “Uh, hello? I write member reviews.” “They’re kinda biased,” PZ said slowly. The other four paused and stared at him, angry flames burning in their eyes. “Feez’s opinion is the only one that counts,” PR whispered menacingly. Incredible. He’s never spoken a word under 120 decibels. Sentenal was the first to break the tension with a casual shrug as PZ waved an apology. “Well this is supposed to become an annual thing so…” “Oh yeah, New Years,” Phil said in almost a sigh as he shivered his leg and tapped impatiently on the table for PZ. “You guys have any resolutions or goals? Like, say, finishing a game of Scrabble before April?” PZ rolled his eyes at him. “No resolutions here,” he said, putting the book down as well as the word ZYGOTE. “Can’t think of anything anyway.” Phil practically leapt onto the Scrabble board and added TITS to NIGGA, a move that was met with impressed and amused congratulatory curses. Unfortunately, the feeble entertainment given by the game had met its end and soon everyone was heading to the living room, Sentenal dragging the sofa back with him. An hour later, room service had brought up a feast for the party of young men, and they had already stuffed themselves to the point of bursting. “Looks like none of us are gonna have a weight loss resolution this year,” PR sighed in satisfaction, patting his very round belly. “That’s a boring resolution anyway,” Feez said, burping. “Goals are better.” Suddenly, a very very bright, possibly fat-overdose induced, idea came to Sentenal and he was so very very excited that he sat up. “I have an idea.” The younger men of the troupe groaned in unison. Whether from the immense amount of food they had consumed in a short space of time or from Sentenal’s idea, I’ll leave to you. “Let’s write down some really good resolutions or goals onto some bits of paper, put them into a hat, each take a draw, and whatever’s on the piece of paper will be ours for the year.” Silence followed. Then, “Phil, could you kick me over a bit? I’m sinking into the sofa.” “Ok, let’s do it,” Sentenal decided for them, ripping up some of the hotel room’s pamphlets and passing them around. “Write a lot of them on different pieces of paper, so we have a wider variety.” PZ groaned again and looked at his piece of paper. “Fine…but I’m gonna write it in chicken grease.” “Dude, that’s disgusting,” PR replied, reaching for a pen. Minutes later, Sentenal had gathered in a bowl (for lack of a hat) twenty-seven slips of paper, ripped, folded and greasy. Shuffling them around, he offered the mix to the others around him who were now unexpectedly curious. “These are for the year, guys, so you’d better choose well.” “How do we do that if it’s a lucky dip?” PR asked innocently. He was met with a punch to the head. “Shut up and do it,” Sentenal said. “Can’t we make it more of a…6 month plan?” Phil whined. “Or a 6 week plan?” Feez suggested. Sentenal heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine, geez, 6 weeks. Happy? Now just pick some will you?” Deep breaths all around and an encouraging nod, five hands fell into the bowl and five strips of paper were removed.
	Av and Sig were definitely not made by Pendant or fez.

Sentenal's Bright Idea · Fan Fiction