Tiny Hammer

The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.

All the forces of the 41st Millennium descend onto modern day Earth. Except they are only as large as their miniatures depict them to be. SPESS MAHRENES are an inch tall, Monoliths barely come up to your ankle, and Imperator Titans are the size of a van.

Examples

So my techpriests got out of their box and to my computer again last night. I found them in the morning, A dozen techmarines and Enginseers and their servitors jumping up and down on the keyboard and using a Dreadnought to operate the mouse.

We had to speak at length about Wikipedia. They were convinced that nothing told to them by the Great Machine could be so fallacious. Oh, and they got into my porn file and demanded to know why there was so much information on human procreation when schematics could be kept in the same space.

Also, I've finally had it and will be taking my Dark Eldar to the sex shop. Again. The first time I was kinda drunk and they insisted (they had been begging for days and threatening to order more pay-per-view.) Its not like I've got some moral opposition, but, jeeze, ever see an inch-and-a-half tall Wych trying to operate a thirteen inch long vibrating dildo? It's... disturbing.

Oh, and they're ALL fighting over control of the TV. Literally. The Tau only want Discovery Channel, The Space Marine and Sisters want the religious networks, the Orks want Spike on, and the Eldar all want me to put on Lifetime. Except for Eldrad, who I haven't seen in days, but made a collect call and just said "Channel 4, Tuesday news at noon." I'm a little afraid to turn it on.

Doomrider found my stash. Which was just weed and two hits of acid. But given his current size and the fact that he smoked all of it and rolled around on the LSD he's driving up the wall. Literally.

Also, Privateer Press just made their big press release. It was simply "Well, fuck." I think the wargames industry might take a bigger hit.

For some reason the tyranids have been watching Nickelodeon. I can't even begin to explain why. We've set up a sort of truce around the TV. Everyone gets one hour except when I want to watch something. Then the orks inform everyone else "DAT GORK WANTS TA WATCH 'IZ UMIE SHOWS." Which would be less weird if I didn't watch so much Election coverage. The Imperium is having a hard time understanding why we aren't purging the heresy of those trying to ursurp our planetary governorship.

One of my friends brought over his Rogue Trader today. Which would have been okay, seeing his ship was pretty cool (it was about as big as my car) but the rat bastard tried to sell me my own tree. I have a single tree in my front yard and I had to pay fifty bucks to buy it back from him. Damn.

I'm trying not to be too loud while I type this. The necrons are sleeping. I had to bathe the nurglings today. The stench was just too much. God, it was horrible. Most of them came apart in the sink. I, I don't want to think about that anymore.

Apparently an Eversor got into my book bag. In the middle of a US Foreign Policy lecture he made this very clear. I'm sure everyone's had a cell phone go off in class? Sucks right, even if the professor's cool you still feel like a douche. Ever have a tiny, clawed lunatic scream "WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY" and run across the desk shredding everyone's notes?

But the Eldar have predicted next weeks lotto results. Which would be great but Eldrad insisted that I shouldn't get a ticket with numbers but instead ask for "L-O-L-D-O-N-G." And I'm pretty sure there are no letters in the lotto balls.

I need to be careful with my weedwhacker now. Before it was just rocks, dog turds, and the occasional bee's nest. Now it's Catachans, Tyrands, Kroot, Tyranids, and Orks that don't like it indoors. You don't know what a bug bite is until you've been peppered with Fleshborers.

The Orks caught a garter snake, then let it go when they found out it wasn't venomous. I thought they were going to eat it... Then the Kroot and Catachans caught it and ate it. Raw. It wouldn't have been disturbing if it was just the Kroot (or the 'nids), but the Catachans had their snake sashimi-style too. I'm going to pick up some vinegar so they can at least cure the meat first. I wish my cat hadn't killed all the shrews. One of those would go through EVERYTHING living in my yard in a couple of days, I'd bet.

Speaking of my cat Jones, he's been acting strangely...

The Thin Fa/tg/uy

(This is a direct rip from the download-able copy found here:http://rapidshare.com/files/144055315/minisaga.rtf (file is open-able in Open Office)

---

First off, I'd like to say thank you for wanting to download this. You all were ultra cool during the writing of this, and it's nice to be able to feel blah blah blah. Here are the three Minihammer stories that I wrote, the two joke ones, and the one "serious" one. All star the same nameless main character. So, uh, enjoy?

---

I rubbed my hand over my face and put my feet down on the floor, only to feel something go squish under them. That's not the way that a person wants to wake up. Glancing at the underside of my foot, I quickly decided that not only was it impossible to figure what I'd just killed, but I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to know. Maybe later. Maybe once I'd gotten human again.

Of course, since these things all ended up at my house, it's been a little more difficult to do that than ever. I positively glowered at the shower. "Hey! You little fucks! What the hell have I told you about screwing on the soap!" I don't know what they are, and I don't care. I don't want alien jizz on my soap, no matter how little the creature is.

I marched back out and began the hunt. I don't know what they're called (my friend, Dave, he knows and has told me a hundred times, but it keeps slipping my mind) but those little guys in armor, with the swords and all the whack about some sort of god ruler thingie? I found a bunch of them on the kitchen table. Despite their protests and their curses, I snatched all four of them up and carried them back in with me.

"Permission granted to kill these two xenos." I didn't have to say it twice. We had an agreement -- they thought they'd gone through some sort of time/space wormhole, shrinking them and sending them back in time. They were putting up with me only until their god guy came into power or something,but until then, I was in charge. Whatever. Either way, they literally leaped out of my hand and went to town. I looked away. Nobody wants to watch that.

Just as much as somebody wants to watch an inch tall figure stroll past the doorway, dragging a much larger rat behind it. It was yelling something about a blood god. A different god, I'd learned. But it was streaking blood all across the carpet. Good pest control, those guys. Hell on the cleaning bill, though.

Fuck coffee. I don't even want to think about what those one things did to the kitchen while I was sleeping. Probably ate everything. AGAIN. Good on garbage disposal, but...

Computer. Play some Team Fortress or something. Blow some steam before I start dumping these guys in the garbage disposal again. Wiping off the last of the grunge off my feet, I tossed the tissue to one of those red praying-mantis-looking thingies to eat before reaching to turn on my computer. Only to find that the guys with the hard-on for tech had it open again.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a harsher voice than intended.

One stepped forward. "The holy electron flow-"

Fuck. I knew where this was going. I cut him off quickly. "Like you'd tell one of the other guys."

He seemed disappointed. Screw him. "We are... upgrading your ram?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked back up. I don't know how they got up there, but the white haired chicks were dragging me a cup of coffee. They're nice. Religious nutbags who I'm always being careful what I say around, but nice. I was completely distracted until one of the green guys poked my arm.

"Me an' da boyz wanna ride again, boz."

"Later," I grumbled softly. They loved riding in my car, but had spent the last two days painting it red. To make it go faster. Their version of logic made my head hurt, but them and those freaky armored dudes love riding with me, even more so when I turn the music all the way up.

It was at this point in time that I felt something in my sweatpants. I've gotten used to this enough that I virtually ripped them off. There was one of the blue things, with one normal arm and one that's kinda like a blade, and she was... you know... trying to go at my junk.

And that's when I started screaming, officer...

---

It's been a couple of weeks since the cops came over me freaking out. Things have... calmed down a bit. Not with them, mind you. They're just as freaky as ever. Just... I've adjusted more.

We've kind of fallen into a routine. I get home from work, and the noseless guys instantly let me have the TV in the living room. They're pretty easy to keep happy. Anime, Zone of Enders and the sequel on the PS2, and just let them do their thing. They're fairly harmless when left to themselves, and they're really accommodating of me. When I get angry at everybody else, they try and calm me down. I'm starting to adopt them as my favorites.

The white haired chicks, they cook me dinner. Hand-cook me dinner. Seriously, they've got these flamer things, and... I don't know, to be honest. They seem so militant and pious at times, but at the same time they're kinda nice to me. They've almost gotten to the point where they can cook a steak that isn't well done, too.

After I watch an episode or two of the old Batman animated series (the good one), I'm always surprised to find the little human-like dudes sitting next to me and the noseless aliens. Not the humans with bulky armor and swords, but the trooper dudes. Their boss-guys mutter under their breath about heresy, but let them get away with it for the most part, so long as they don't start talking with the noseless ones.

Anyway, after dinner and the Batman episode, I put the green guys and some of the humans in the car, along with some of their equipment, and we head to the park for a bit. To the green guys (orcs, I guess) it's a trip, because we seem to be going so fast to them. The militant dudes, they're just looking forwards to practice. I have a "no fly zone" rule in the house, so this gets them off my back about maneuvers and training and shit. I just hold a complex plane remote I picked up and tell people that I'm playing with models.

When we get back, though, I always go hunting for the metal skeleton dudes. At first, they used to attack me, but lately we've come to a truce. Ever since I bought that electro-magnet, that is. The noseless guys handled the negotiations for me releasing them. Best $300 I've ever spent, let me tell you.

Before I made that investment, though, the orcs used to defend me. When they all showed up, there were the most of them and they all attacked me. I killed only about a few thousand of them while screaming bloody murder. As time's gone on, they've started calling me "boss" more and more. They, uh, got ahold of one of my videos of me at the shooting range and were in awe. Over what, I'm not sure, but they just went on about "big dacker" or something for ages. It can be hard to figure out what they're talking about.

Some of the pointy-eared ones are jerks, kinda thoughtless hedonists in a way, but others are kinda cool. The elders, I guess that's what they call themselves, they aren't that bad. When I do laundry, they get their big thing to help me fold clothes. I don't fully understand it, but... yeah. Kinda strange, more than a little creepy, but I'm not going to turn down free help.

I had to commit a little bit of genocide, and I kinda feel sorry about that at times, but... those little fuckers were dripping and disgusting. Their armor... Well... somebody's doing something with it. I don't know. I'm kind of scared to ask.

Sometimes, though, I gotta admit, everything gets me down a little bit. I've really come to look forward to the big brick dudes. They're normally in these coffin thingies, but they've been letting them out now and then here lately. When one notices that I'm down, he comes to talk to me. I think everybody else is kind of afraid to. They can handle me being angry, happy, whatever, but when I'm sad, I guess I'm a little unpredictable to them. The metal brick dudes, though, they aren't scared, and they understand more than I give them credit for.

Apparently, the little uber-hedonists have been, uh, "attacking" me while I'm asleep. Dave, he tells me that there's some kind internet fetish about tiny creatures and keeps saying that we could make a mint. Yeah, I have rules against showing my wang on the internet, and secondly, just because some people have that fetish doesn't mean that I do. Besides, I kinda want a real woman one of these days.

Now that I look at my bedroom, with all these things around, I'm starting to realize that until this situation is fixed, I'm not going to be bringing a girl home.

---

They all collected up in my bedroom easily enough. Even the necrothingies showed up, which I kind of wasn't expecting. Some of them were armed. Maybe they all thought that I was going to try and kill them or something. Sure, all that they'd caused were some little cuts and minor punctures so far, but enough bee stings can kill a person, right?

I pulled my flatscreen out and called up the website, making them watch the teasers. One for each race, both showing them owning somebody, and showing them getting owned. Some reacted with pride, other anger, some longing, but I was surprised by the amount of indifference that was before me. I already knew these guys were basically soldiers, but for them to be this cold kinda took the wind out of my sails a little bit. But I'd already promised myself...

"You all see this? This isn't just you guys fighting, or maybe you didn't notice that there were people, people like me, in the background. I'm not good at this speech shit, so I'll just cut to the chase. You!" I pointed at the humans. "You're all just hanging around, waiting for your God Emperor person dealie to show up and lead humanity. So he can return you to your normal state and all that."

"You!" I pointed at the other mostly-human guys, who were huddled up with the other things. "You've got your own pantheon thing going on. Hell, all of you have your reasons to fight, or to stay here, right?" A murmur of consent from the huddled masses. "Yeah, how do you like being made playthings, huh? How do you like somebody to try and act like a god over you?"

That got a murmur through them. Good. I was pressing buttons. I pointed to the ones with pointy ears, but they beat me to the punch. "We would not stand by such aggression against our people."

A warrior (Warrioress? I could barely hear them yelling at me, let alone make out their genders.) of the noseless guys called out. "We would support a rescue mission, if that is what you are implying."

The one guy, Magus I think his name was, stepped forward from the bug guys. "What did you have in mind?"

"WAAAAAAAAAAGH!" screamed the orcs, as if they were answering the question. I glanced to the metal skeletons. They hadn't left yet, but otherwise gave no reply. Good enough for me.

"Close enough. I say we spring them. Bust them loose. Uh... Free them from their imprisonment. And stuff. But I think that it's only right if you guys do it." I could feel the look that everybody seemed to be giving me. "Sure, I suppose that I could do it, I guess..." Me? Ha! Yeah, right. "But you guys sort of have the right. After all, it's somebody _enslaving_ your people, so I figure that a little payback is in order, don't you?"

A righteous cheer rang out, giving me a grim smile. "Alright then! Everybody out. We've got a week before the next match, and I'll need lists of everything that you need to get ready. I need a little time to prepare myself."

---

I closed my door behind them and flopped on my bed, closing my eyes tight. In a way, that was the easy part. It had just been yapping. Now I actually had to deal with the consequences of getting them riled up.

"YOU DID WELL, YOUNG ONE."

I jerked my head up, only to find one of the block guys standing next to me. The "in death I serve" ones. Another reason why I liked talking with them, they had volume control. I could hear them without straining. A weak smile found its way to my face. "I have no fucking clue what I'm doing."

"I WOULD NOT EXPECT ANYTHING LESS FROM YOU," he said, putting one of his clawed "arms" on my hand. "YOU WOULD NEVER MAKE IT AS A MARINE, BUT YOU WOULD HAVE MADE A GOOD GUARDSMAN. YOU KNEW HOW TO INSPIRE."

Sure. Right. I'd call it bluffing and letting the anger do the talking, myself. But I didn't want to listen to him blather on like that. Time for a topic change. "Can I ask you a question? Like, privately, it goes no further than us?"

"MY BROTHERS ARE GUARDING THE DOOR. NONE WILL DISTURB US, NONE WILL KNOW OF WHAT WE SPEAK." A pause. "THEY ARE... ENSURING THAT YOU HAVE TIME TO PREPARE YOURSELF." I could hear the humor in his tone.

I sucked in a deep breath. "You guys, you believe in your god-emperor dude, and from what I've gathered, you don't tolerate heresy. Like, at all. So, um... Why... Why haven't you attacked me? Or the rest of us? Aren't we, you know, heretics?"

He laughed at that. At least, I assume it was a laugh. It's hard to tell, him being a metal brick with a synth voice and all. "WE HAD MANY DEBATES ON THIS. HOWEVER, IT WAS DECIDED THAT HUMANITY HAS NOT YET BEEN ENLIGHTENED BY THE GOD-EMPEROR OF MANKIND. AS THE EMPEROR HAS YET TO ENLIGHTEN YOU TO HIS GLORY, YOU ARE NOT YET A HERETIC."

"So, if I don't follow him when he reveals himself, then I'm a heretic and worthy of death?"

"CORRECT." Well, that was comforting. "WE TOLERATE THE XENOS ONLY FOR NOW. WE WILL WATCH THEM UNTIL THE EMPEROR RETURNS, AND THEN DESTROY THEM IN HIS HONOR." He paused for a moment. "MAY I ASK YOU A QUESTION, YOUNG ONE?"

"Of course, grandpa." I had to get my rub in for him calling me young all the time.

"YOUR FRIEND, DAVID. HE IS AN UNUSUAL HUMAN." That's an understatement. "TELL ME, WHY DOES HE KEEP ASKING ME TO SAY THAT I AM IN IT FOR THE BITCHES?"

I had to laugh, if only because I didn't know the answer myself.

---

The next week was... kind of intense, to be honest with you. I'll paraphrase, because the details were kind of boring. I've always kept a spare credit card in my fireproof safe, in case of emergency. Needless to say, for this I pulled it out.

Don't get me wrong! I'm not saying that I like all those guys, but some of them are... kinda cool in a way. They're like actual people, you know? Only... smaller. (I can't believe I just thought that. Maybe I AM going nuts...) Besides, how often do you get to see something like this, you know? How often do you get to say that you got to outfit not just one army, but a whole slew of them?

That said, it wasn't easy. I had to keep telling people, no, there's no such thing as "promethium" or bolter rounds. And a lot of the stuff that the elder guys and the tech priests asked for was well beyond my ability to comprehend, even when they kept dumbing it down for me. The Tao guys, they seemed to understand that I had limits to what I could do and asked for simple enough stuff. It took me a bit to figure out what the orcs wanted, too. At first, I thought that they were making a lousy Arnie impression and asking for a helicopter. Once I figured out what "dakkah" and "choppah" were, though, it got real easy, real fast.

Pretty much, my days fell into the following rituals.

Wake up. Free my junk from the little "one arm is a blade" chicks. Get the hedonistic elder people out of my bathroom. Shower. Enjoy a meal that the battle sisters and the slash folks cooked for me. (Two breakfasts, but I don't dare tell the sisters that they can't cook eggs worth shit.) Take a peek at what the orcs built overnight. Watch as the humans struggle to improvise, something they don't appear to be the greatest at. They're better than the elder people, though.

Go to work. Call home during my lunch break, talk to everybody on the speakerphone, get a list of what they all need today. Get off work after getting chewed out by my boss that I'm not paying attention as well as I should. Hit up the hardware store, the toy store, a few places where I can buy chemicals, sometimes cloth, sometimes paper... I'd hit up friends for fireworks, empty coffee cans or tins... Whatever. I always concluded my shopping run with a trip to a different pet store. Fish, spiders, scorpions, whatever I could get my hands on. The bug guys demanded it.

When I got home, I'd divvy everything up to everybody. Race cars, sheet metal, nails (tons of those), screws, piping, what have you. Something for everybody.

If I could get a handle on what was going on, I'd lend a helping hand. Usually, it ended up with me helping the orcs, which thrilled them to no small end. They liked it when their "boss" helped them. (Apparently, I killed their former boss during the initial attack right off the bat. With a book.) I don't know why, but I'd always hum the theme to the A Team. After that, I'd enjoy another double-meal while discussing strategy, but by the end I was always feeling pretty exhausted. I'd lumber up to bed and just flop down, hoping I didn't squish anybody.

The only reason why I didn't kill the pervert chicks in the morning arose here. They'd start to massage me, which wasn't easy, you know? Eventually, some of the dark elder people would join in. I think that the humans thought the others were trying to corrupt me, so they'd join the act, too, singing hymns at the same time. It's... surprisingly easy to fall asleep to that kind of treatment. And then I'd wake up and start it again...

At least, that's generalizing it all. There was plenty of variation in-between, but that's the basic idea. I'd also do stuff like scout the place where the "deathmatch" was going to take place, look into renting a truck, that sort of thing. A lot of time was spent praying that I wouldn't get arrested by the cops following my paper trail.

Frankly, I don't think I could have managed it without Caleb, the "dead" guy in the metal walking brick. He was good about encouragement, and helping me sort through strategy. He'd fought enough "xenos" in his days to know how they operated, so he was able to give me some insights. Though some of his plans really... Well, they were kind of dumb. That's where the Tao (Tau? Whatever.) came in. Did I mention that they always wanted to help? Almost creepy in a way, to be honest. But by the time that the day had arrived, we were as ready as we could be.

---

I parked the truck and gently put on my backpack. According to my watch, I had ten minutes before the show started. Good enough for me. I made a show of locking the truck, too. Thanks to the economy, everything's been shutting down, so most of the places in this neighborhood had closed shop. This particular warehouse had been used once upon a time for those robot wars things, so it even had seating, or so I heard. (I preferred the one hosted by Lister, used to watch it on cable. Paying extra for a foreign channel was worth it.)

The guy at the door eyed me as I held out the $50. "Show's about to start." He paused. "What's with the backpack?"

I reached inside and pulled out a marine to show to him, holding it by its base. "Just want to compare them to mine. See where I fucked up, see what I got right. No cameras or nothin'! I read the rules, and I want to come back."

He seemed to debate this for a moment, then shrugged and let me through. After a moment, guilt hit me. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

The little guy seemed indignant, about to rip his boots free from where I'd superglued them. "It takes more than that to hurt-"

"Right, shh." I slid him back into the bag and milled about for a few moments. Finally, I set the backpack down and moved for a seat. Too far away to see anything, but it was better that way. From where I'd ditched my backpack, I could see marines, Caleb, some Tau, and others making their way out. Right.

"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the voice on the PA. Where did they get the power for that, since they didn't own the building? "Are you ready for the show to begin?"

He had no idea.

I wasn't paying attention to the speech in the slightest. Usual pump up the crowd bullshit that you hear at pep rallies. I left those behind when I graduated high school. No, my eyes were glued to my watch. I was close enough to hear the soft cry of the guy at the door, two seconds late. Fortunately, I seemed to be the only one who did. I prayed... Fuck, I don't know who I was praying to. God? The emperor? Slashesh or whatever? Mork (and Mindy)? I don't know, but I just wanted to have everything go off without a hitch.

The part of my brain that was paying attention to my surroundings told me that people were moving closer to the "arena." Meanwhile, I was counting down. My fist came to my teeth, and my heart felt like it was going to explode. Motion at the door, near the floor. Close enough. Now all that they were waiting for was...

The crash of glass announced their arrival. It wasn't just one window pane from above our heads that shattered, it was all of them. Instantly, I began to relax. Now my role was getting easy. Wait until the chaos, go grab the people and put them in the backpack, and scramble back outside, hoping nobody got me by mistake.

Which, considering that there were suddenly nails shooting all over the place, airplanes carpet bombing small pipe bombs and spraying homemade napalm, and then their own "heavy" weapons... That prospect wasn't looking so hot.

I wasn't going to get involved. I kept telling myself this. In the bloodbath going on around me, with the people screaming and falling over and catching on fire, I'm a non-combatant. I was like a medic, right? As I pushed through the crowd, the people running towards the deathtrap that was the door acting as living cover for me, I tried to convince myself of this. That I was the good guy, and that I wasn't responsible for anything if I didn't actually hurt anybody.

That all changed when I saw Caleb get kicked. I don't mean, bumped over, I mean as he was drilling rounds into somebody else, a guy up and kicked him right into a Tau in power armor, sending them both crashing into a wall. The little blue guy was bleeding, I could see that much on the wall, but all other details were lost to me. I couldn't tell if he was hurt, scratched, or splatted. And I couldn't even begin to guess at the fate of Caleb. My dreadnought friend.

My dreadnought.

My friend.

My friends.

I saw myself grabbing the fucker. Whirling him around. My fist connecting with his face. Again and again and again, until he wasn't fighting any more. I turned, looking back at the "arena," separated from it by a stripe of fire. I couldn't hear the battle cry of the orcs, or the screaming of the people. There was the fucker in charge. I couldn't hear the humans scream to purge the unclean, the guys with the guitars playing their ear shattering music, the distinctive sounds of the Eldar or Necron weapons. He was just standing there, watching everything. Terrified. I bellowed. I hollered. And I charged...

---

I winced as the bone in my hand shifted. ...Okay, I lied. I grabbed my bedsheet with my other hand and grit my teeth until I thought they were going to break. The dread had no sense of compassion right now, it just kept on setting bones. It wasn't Caleb, either. Rengar something-or-another. Caleb wouldn't be done with repairs for some time still. I was told that he would... survive.

I kinda wished I hadn't now. If a dreadnought ever offers to tend your wounds, don't take him up on the offer.

When you listen to them talk, everybody tells a slightly different story about what happened. Some orcs say that I yelled "Here we go, here we go, here we go" as I began to assault every full-sized human who wasn't otherwise being slaughtered. Other orcs say I yelled "waagh," or however you spell their war cry. A Tau, in order to stop the fighting, suggested that both camps might be right. Seemed to work for the time being.

The humans were a mixed back. The imperial guys thought I cried out to purge them all in the emperor's name, only in less words. Meanwhile, somebody from the Chaos side said I swore an oath to the blood god. We... lost a lot of people over that. At least the Elder and the Tau agree on what I yelled. "Finish it." Somehow, I think that everybody might be right, and wrong at the same time.

That was... a month ago or so. Yeah, I got questioned by the cops, but when I eagerly showed them my "kickass modded remote control car collection," they seem to have dropped me as a suspect. Haven't even called into work about if I went in that day or not. Which work would look at my time card and say that I clocked out right on time. When the IT guy knows the passwords to change the time cards and knows how to cover his tracks...

"YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE PUNCHED THE WALL."

"It was either that or kill the motherfucker." A demonette cooed into my ear. I wasn't sure if she was comforting me or encouraging me.

"DON'T DO IT AGAIN OR YOU WILL BREAK THINGS FOR THE THIRD TIME." A pause as he began to put the splints on again. "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"

"Yeah. Just so utterly aware of the fact that I'm alive thanks to that bastard." Rengar seemed amused by that answer. You learn to tell these things.

Dave. The bastard. I'd just tried to call him for the first time since things went down. He wigged. Needless to say, our friendship is probably over. Maybe he'll get over it in a month or two. Still, I can help but feel like he's a waste now. I did what was necessary. I did the right thing. And now he's... He said I'm not the same, and he's right. But he's the one who couldn't rescue them himself, so fuck him. I was tempted to let some of the more... disturbed Sla-whatever-I-give-up-on-this-stupid-name people have their way with him.

...But by the way that the sisters were eyeing me, I knew I wouldn't.

I had to be careful with them, now. Especially since the demonettes have been earning me extra money. They've been, uh, using household items for their own amusement, shall we say. I can see how it might be arousing, but since they started filming it with my webcam, I kinda figured why not make some extra money? Throw a filter or two on it, sell them online as CGI. Not a lot of money, but enough that I'm considering moving. Bigger house, with more bedrooms. One for each faction. That should take the arguments down a notch.

Except for the ones about my soul. Whatever.

Though, I had found the notes of a guy online. Another guy who had more of these people. I gotta admit, I've been considering trying to get ahold of him. You never know, right?

Right?

External Links

Origin of Tiny Hammer Cntd and last one