Update + Spoof

okie the gist of what my life has been the past week is that im super busy and hectic and i didnt eat lunch today WAHHHHHHHHHH               T-T
So anw since i gotta fill in more applicaiton forms now for extra school stuff and CCA trials and scholarships and whatnot i'll keep it very, very short, so BAI I GOT NOTHING MORE TO SAY.

To keep the few passersby entertained here's a little spoof that i made in the Dec 'hols'.

Q: What happens when  you read Brisingr, Steig Larsson’s trilogy(he’s Swiss; R.I.P Steig Larsson), hear Bruno  Mars’s <Just The Way You Are> and proceed to dream in bouts of sleep interrupted by intervals of waking up?

A: Bullshit.

Synopsis: Eragon and co. - let’s call them the Varden- have some cash-flow problems for the army to deal with the Empire and its lowdown scoundrels. Hence, a plot is hatched to go to a busy street in City X one day to hunt for sponsorship for those who support the Varden. The story is set in modern times.

So….. Let the story begin.

The Varden’s selected people were gathered in a group in front of a cathedral along the street in City X. Among them, Eragon and a fat bloke (let’s call him Samuel) were present.

“Okay, let’s split up.” Eragon said. “We should be finding at least one sponser each. Return here in two hour’s time, lest the Empire’s dogs catch up with us. Now go!”

The motley crew scattered.

One hour later…

Samuel had been getting most depressed as the hour crawled along. Apparently the people living in this neutral country bordering the Varden and the Empire didn’t like tall, big fat blokes who mumbled. Like himself. They seemed to avoid him like the plague. Naturally, he had gotten no sponsers thusly and the stress seemed to mount and escalate whenever he saw Eragon- the Varden’s poster boy- dragging yet another Richie along with him, the dude in the Armani suit and the gal in the crazy high heels stumbling along after him, enchanted by the spell he wove around them using his glib tongue and specially chosen words designed to flatter them.

He needed a drink.

Next to him in the bar was a middle-aged man who looked like he, too, was taking a breather from his work. The man glanced at the obese giant to his right, and was compelled to move further away when the fat man suddenly turned to him.

“Hey… Are you interested in supporting the Varden as to their fight with the Empire, so as to protect the peace and security in this God-given country of yours, in a financial way, and I would be most grateful—”

“No!”

The man shouted, growing positively alarmed at the seemingly mental obese giant who mumbled at him.

“Wouldn’t you please consider it?” Said Samuel desperately, latching on to an arm of the middle-aged man who tried furiously (but in vain) to shake off the insane giant.

His other hand was tapping the numbers for the police on his handheld device. When it got through, the knotted feeling in his gut finally subsided somewhat. Swiss police were, after all, known for their efficiency.

“Hello, this is the police. How can I help you?”

“There’s an insane fat man who’s latching on to me!”  Said the middle-aged man as he raced past crowds of dancers on the floor and knocking over wine glasses as he tried to evade the pursuit of the obese giant just a few metres behind.

“My location is The Hotsands Bar, along Y street in City X, can you please hur—”

The connection was abruptly cut off as the phone was swiped out of his hands by the giant behind. It landed among some electrical equipment, and sparks flew and started a small fire, causing even more of an uproar.

Samuel was desperate. “Why is he calling the police?” He thought. Then: “Oh, crap! Some of the Empire’s spies are also in the police force in Switzerland! I can’t let them catch us. I have to destroy the phone!”

--Hence he swiped it from behind, and finally caught up with the middle-aged Swiss.

In a bid to win back his favor, Samuel started singing. He was oddly proud of his singing ability(he seemed to have won a prize of some sort back when he was a child, but the judges were oddly absent; he supposed they had gone to the toilet to dab their tears that flew freely in their awe of his raw talent)

(Adapted from Bruno Mars’s <Just The Way You Are>)

“…  But don’t you want to feel what you’ve never felt, and then you’ll do.. as I say..”

(HIDDEN MEANNG INTENDED)

The onlookers were momentarily silent, temporarily stunned by the open outburst of two homosexuals (one being a fellow Swiss in the midst of his “second spring”) before erupting into chaos, and a cacophony burst out once more.

The man shouted once (“EARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”) before running out into the street.

Samuel, not knowing what to do anymore, ran after him.

Eragon was busy persuading a few other rich people with the help of a carefully crafted spell before he looked up and saw- and heard- the commotion.

He sighed.

“That’s probably Samuel.. as usual.” He thought.

And true enough, along the street came running Samuel looking hapless as usual, and policemen(?!) and a middle-aged man as well.

He calmly finished talking to his group of people before firing a red flare into the sky; the Varden were to regroup immediately and return to base.

“At least Samuel saved me a few minutes of more flattery,” Eragon said to Saphira as he climbed on her back. She agreed, too.

Then the next moment the group was airborne, free from the gesturing people below, as small as ants now.

K now that that's done:
BAI.

p.s. the chatbox is actually righttt below at the bottom of the blog because i didn't know how to slot it somewhere above. Template coding is so damn weirdd. I'm not a computer engineer/geek.