I'm still taking it easy, as anyone who expects a Song of the Day will soon discover, but I will probably still post more than anyone else here. This is due to my deep psychological need to post, not Met's failings to post often enough (failings which don't actually exist). It's been too soon since Elphaba stopped regular posting to determine if she fails to post frequently enough. Anyway, on to the tender heart of the matter.
Monday has always been the domain of my dear GLaDOS. However, despite the fact that she is Still Alive, you'll be GLaD to hear she won't be making an encore performance until Portal II. So now we must fill the space with something, lest Met greedily snatch my posting territory, as he is wont to do. Option one is a Jacques Cousteau tale; a prequel to my first. Before the beginning, I'd like to note how astonishingly difficult it is to write like this. Even so, I managed to write
A Prequel, Part I
Well, one thing's clear, thought Jacques Cousteau, It's dark. And so it was. As Jacques descended the blood soaked stairs into the dark depths of Darkdeep, the darkness deepened. He dared not unsheathe the Feldagger the Medium of Doomspeak had given him, for it still glowed with the blood of the fallen Yeti-Worm that had ambushed him. The light would cause the hosts of Darkdeep to notice him. And when they notice me he thought, Then they will know that the Gatekeeper is no more. If that happened, even the Half-Djinni Spirit King's blessing couldn't save him.
Option two will bring us all back to the days of our childhood. It will show us the dreams we dreamed, and the lives we imagined into being. It will then proceed to trample them, rend them thrice in twain, and force-feed them to us through a funnel caked with a slimy substance of questionable origin. Yes, it has come at last!
Pokemon: The Golden Apocalypse - Prologue
Red ran through the dense forest, branches ripping at his clothes and snaring his feet. The vines that hung down from the canopy were covered in vicious thorns, but he ran straight through them, ignoring the searing streaks of crimson they left on his exposed face and arms. Behind him, a roar bellowed through the trees, causing some branches to fall, such was its ferocity. He tripped on one of these and before he could rise, the skies darkened. A reptilian monstrosity flew through the air above, spewing smoke from its nostrils and fire gleaming on its tail. As it flew past, a torrent of water erupted from the river to Red's left, and the dragon fell from the skies, somewhere to his right. The Blastoise turned in Red's direction, where the Charizard had fallen. Cursing, Red jumped up, and tried to escape the spot where soon, no doubt, two behemoths would battle. He had barely started, when both creatures fled from some creature more terrible than either of them. Though hidden by the forest, its advance was marked by the tremors that shook the ground and the crashing of distant trees. Red ran for but a moment, before reaching a clearing at the end of the forested valley. His heart sank, and his thoughts dulled as he slowly realized there was no escape; instead of a steady rise to the level of the surrounding land, there was a steep cliff, precluding any progress. Red turned, intending to run past his pursuer, when the Venusaur entered the clearing. The titanic beast stood twenty meters high, and a vine thicker than a large apling snaked from the bulb on it's back. Just as it was about to grab Red, the sun reached an angle that cause light to suffuse the scene. The vine retracted as the bulb on the giants back opened. A glow began to emanate from the flower, which grew unbearably bright and then leapt from bulb. The beam howled towards Red, heat rolling off it in waves and-
Red awoke screaming. Realizing it was just a dream, he laid back down. He was almost asleep when an errant thought strolled into his consciousness. He was sixteen today. It was the day of the Calling.
Option three is where I write a dark tale, Elphaba calls it horrible, I reply sarcastically, Met intervenes, Elphaba sides with him and I cry.