Dr. Hiffman thought some more. She didn't move. This was probably because she was dead. Her spirit was floating around the New House. She was trying to remember who had killed her, but everything was so muddled and she was starting to feel the hunger of the eternally damned.
Mr. Woodson stopped in the doorway. After yelling in her ear for 5 minutes, he realized that she wasn't just being rude to him, and he took a swig from his martini shaker. "Blast it!" he said, "I'll have to go and find Gornibas. He knows how to fix a toilet." He left the room.
"Harry, I'm very disappointed in you. That amulet was very important. It had powers...powers, which you, Harmon, can't even begin to comprehend. Halley, listen to me when I talk to you!" Gornibas was chewing out Harold unsuccessfully while Harold writhed on the ground in the clutches of Dangelique's curse. "You know Habeas," said Gornibas, "You could be a little more polite to your master. And weren't you going to tell me something?" Harold's hand attempted to choke himself.
Mr. Woodson came bursting through the trees. "Thank god I've found you, Gornibas," he panted, "I need you to fix the toilet." Gornibas was suddenly very nervous. He had been afraid that this day would happen, ever since he'd met the Woodsons. He had said that his job was antique plumbing, that he was in fact the most prestigious and renowned antique plumber in the world. But now his words were catching up with him like a very fast table. If he wasn't able to fix the toilet, everyone would know that he was lying, and they would automatically assume that he was a vampire. He had to do something, and fast...
(OP: Nate, October 11 2006)
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment