Twizzlers

99 Juicy filled posts on the wall, 99 Juicy filled posts.... But I am not just writing to commemorate that. You see, many years ago, a battle was fought between Juicy and a horrible Dragon, referred to by many as "The Dragon Most Vile." This infamous Dragon Most Vile pwned poor Juicy, as Juicy knew deep down within herself that she was not ready to conquor such a beast. Ergo, the Dragon Most Vile laid on her a strong and most frustrating curse, chaining her eternally to those around her who had conquored the Dragon, and limiting her movement accordingly. But over time Juicy matured as a fighter, training herself even within these ramifications, becoming even sharper and more alert. She knew that one day she must prove that she could conquor the beast once and for all, and finally win her freedom. Today, ladies and gentleman, was that day.

Today, after two brief glimpses at the possibility of prolonging the curse (mainly because her armor and sword were not registered properly) and two quick escapes to compensate, Juicy knew the time had come. The duel began. Juicy could have no help this time. No, this was an old score to be settled once and for all. It was just Juicy and the Dragon Most Vile, one on one, their purest powers raging against each other and undiluted by wavering external influences of chance. She was shaking with nerves, and almost turned back on several occassions, but she knew this had to be done.

She got off to a winning start, and stayed strong throughout the battle, but she knew the worst was yet to come. And then finally, it was upon her. The Dragon Most Vile suddenly stopped, paused for a brief moment, turned, and spoke. "Juicy," It bellowed, "The time has come...Choose a space and back in." Time froze. Juicy shuddered at the thought of her last battle, the deep disgrace of failure that was realized at this very point. But no, she could do this now. She was ready. No more dependency on others, no more waiting around, no more lack of respect. She looked around, gripping her sword even tighter, slowly aligning herself with the target. Deep, rhythmic music played in the corner of her mind as she gripped the sword's R symbol. And then, all in one swift defining motion of practiced perfection, she turned, checked, straightened, and parked. After straightening again just to be safe, The Dragon Most Vile said nothing. All of a sudden it let out a whimpering growl: "Get out of your armor and come inside."




Alas, joyous unrestricted Victory. (with a cute picture)