Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Way of Continuation

No, it's on the doc. It's all done. All you have to do is correct it.

Wow, that's shorter than I expected. Well, I edited it. I'm sure the natives are ready for it.

(native language)

Ooh ooh, ah ah, mongo ah ooh ee ee ah *pounds chest* ah woooooooooooooooooooo ahhhhhhhhhhh eeeee ohwa kaba kaba moop moop ma baba bongo longo! Eeee mooba taga taga toombobobobo lalaga gotanga rororoshoobo maboogo, ***atanga sebobombino al pacino me noog noog reto reto reto!!!

(Translation: Ready. =D)

Chapter 2
Part 2: Continuation Indeed

[Approximately a very long time ago, pang, Storm and the rest of the team had ransacked a rather large base full of Penguins. Essentially, they did this so they could free a God-like character, Freakenstein. Freakenstein, otherwise known as Frank, is known as a mod-prophet. As a result of the battle, the previously deceased Pickpocket, Matrix and Daleks were brought back to life. Among the summonings were Riptizoid and Nilo. Of course, you, the reader, can always go back and read that at a later date. Or now. I donât really care. But anyway, letâs check into what our friends are doing now, shall we?]
It was a blisteringly hot afternoon this day in ArmorCity. In the older part of town, which is often referred to as the V-District, a frustrated writer sat in his desk in a loft above a bowling alley, which was also below another bowling alley. The study in which he occupied was filled with cobwebs and dust and rats and holes and mold and slime and goo and blech and chunks of dead whale and everything else you could think of. Unsurprisingly, there was a colony of squirrels burrowing into the ceiling. They would often crawl out of the bowling ball polishers upstairs and attack unsuspecting heavyweights who had just arrived for a good time after an exhausting trip to the local, homemade apple pie Wal-Mart.
Anyway, this particular writer had finally had enough. He flung his pen across the room and jumped out the window. As you can imagine, the loft was fairly high. But it wasnât extremely high. It was more of a moderately high type because they never used to build skyscrapers in ArmorCity. The V-District was filled with shorter buildings because the city developers discovered it would lessen pollution from shoe-smelting factories. For some reason the newer district had skyscrapers, but that was due to a presence of a horrible mayor. He was thankfully in power only for a few years, though. To slide off the tangent, this particular writerâs loft was only 3 stories high. He fell for a few seconds before landing on an innocent passerby; this passerby would be known as pangtongshu.
pang had been returning to his own loft, which he shared with a few members of the team. He had been focusing on the activities of the past few months. [Could you imagine if someone just randomly fell on your head like that?] Startled and otherwise confused, the two of them had gotten into a short-lived confrontation. After a bout of yelling, they began introducing each other. [You readers know pang, of course]. The frustrated writer, with his leather jacket, slicked-back black hair, stylish jeans, and oval spectacles, introduced himself as Kasic. He had explained how he was working on a book that would hopefully put an end to the belief of Newmanism. Unfortunately, he entered a bout of intense nihilism and also wondered what would happen on the other side.
Needless to say, pang was impressed. He had never really been a man of intense skepticism, but there had always been things that confused him. Or, maybe not confused, but made him wonder. After they talked for a few minutes they established a date to get coffee at El Sol next Friday at noon. The two shook hands and wandered in opposite directions: Kasic uplifted and pang intrigued.
The walk home for the bassist warrior, however, was very lonely. In fact, he had been lonely for some time. Frank returned to his duties as mod-prophet, which was probably to be expected. Xeano decided he had enough venturing for a while and returned to his place in Aristocrat Way. He frequently visits the team, though. Mino joined some far-away project in a mountain range somewhere. The team woke up one day only to find the letter saying goodbye with a vague description of his work. Clancy started his own maple syrup business in Canadia, and he ended up becoming a very wealthy businessman. He had his shack rebuilt in the form of a huge mansion in the Shahamas and is said to frequently vacation down there. Matrix finally caught up to Pickpocket and arrested him. Pick is now serving a life sentence for over 412 felonies committed across the country. Matrix took his benefits from the arrest and is now living happily with his girlfriend and Trailblazer in a nice suburb far away. He never said goodbye, although he never really knew the team much in the first place. Storm went back to doing Storm things. Daleks had been living in a large, abandoned warehouse downtown, but it didnât take very long for him to be found and sent away. No one really knows what happened to him after that. Nilo grew very tired of living in the city, and one day he threw a backpack on and wandered off without a word.
The most saddening, however, was that Gamer got mugged one night while wandering, and his naive heroism had him killed. It had all happened in that order, and the remaining members of the team had a quiet funeral for him. Each member cried softly to sleep that night.

Seems the stars have aligned as Sal has finally made another part of the story. Finally...