Subject: Beware the llamas...
Author:
Posted on: 2014-04-20 20:53:00 UTC
A tall skinny fellow with purple eyes and crazy white hair stumbled into the vaguely described portion of the Board that was to serve as a ballroom. He wished for the fifty-third time in the last two minutes that he hadn’t looked at the giant invitation nailed to the Board as he tripped over his feet and landed with a smack on the floor.<br><br> The accursed invitation had been written in urple ink of all things, and it had burned itself into his eyeballs. Still the words floated, transfixed in front of his vision wherever he looked:<br><br><br>…No Sues or Cute Animal Friends permitted,<br>Always expect the Spanish Inquisition!<br><br>…A spork of your choice,<br>Some sort of Easter item…<br>Chocolate will be served.<br><br>…Oh yeah. Beware the Llamas.<br><br><br> Those words had plagued him for the last week- it had completely ruined reading for him.<br><br> And now he was headed to this ball that had plagued his thoughts (and his poor eyeballs) for the past seven days, to see if, at last, the words would fade.<br><br> Agent Legacy (because that’s who he was) looked up from the floor in time to see an angry man in red vestments bustle past, muttering about… fluffy pillows.<br><br> Legacy got to his feet and dusted off his white suit, looking about the room. There was a slow trickle of people entering the room, and already a small crowd had gathered at some sort of dance floor. A row of tables to the left of the dance floor bore a small army of snacks, almost all of them chocolate. Generic music played in the background. <br><br> “…Quaint.” He said. <br><br> “Brwaamph.” Said something behind Legacy. He whirled to see…<br><br> …A llama.<br><br> (Dramatic music! Boy, do I LOVE this!)<br>