...Dear diary:
Today started off just like any other day since I took up residence within the Smith Bank: Boring as **it.
Oh, sure, I can have some fun if I'm lucky enough to be able to rouse Roger's lazy ass out of bed in time so he can be on the road before noon, but after that initial burst of mischievous excitement, things can get rather dull.
No offense intended toward Norman, of course, since he and I get on so well and the old fellow is the epitome of a well-mannered gentleman.
But, sometimes I feel like doing something other than cleaning house, or flipping a dozen hourglasses over just to hear the
shhhhhhhhh... of the falling sand.
Yes, I could use a bit of excitement - although sneaking-up on Roger while he meditates out on the patio is a challenge I truly enjoy.
Yeah, I did it, again, and he didn't even know I was there until I spoke-up.
I am so slick.
Perhaps, then, that is why I felt I should keep an eye on him as he headed off down to the basement with that look in his eye as if he were on an important, soul-searching mission.
Well, that, and because I'm naturally curious about him.
I'll bet that he's glad I
did tag along behind, because he ended up traveling a fair way underground before falling off a ladder and screaming bloody murder.
Once I heard that, I was there in a flash and rested his unconscious head on my lap, observing him quietly breathing.
I'd not experienced something so serenely satisfying in quite a while, though it ended all too soon when Roger began to moan and groan as he came-to.
And then!, OMG!, he called me, "Ma"!
Aww.
Though he
did get a bit snippy when I asked about it.
Shortly afterwards while walking along a corridor leading to who-knows-where, I felt the strangest sensation, as if I were being beckoned.
We came upon some manner of a weird model of a city...and...I really don't know what happened next.
I remember seeing Roger standing in front of a half-buried monstrosity that looked like Big O without his black armor.
He was talking to this strange man wrapped in bandages who was standing up on the shoulder of this Megadeus.
The next thing I knew, I'm screaming as this thing comes crashing down in front of us in flames, and that man in bandages starts howling like no tomorrow as those flames rip him a good one.
I only had three words for that weird guy:
Stop.
Drop.
And
Roll.
I'd rather not comment on the events that followed, as I'd rather try to forget them.
Hummph. There's no way that thing and I are compatable.
*shivers*
So, dear diary, although I helped Roger out of a tough spot, he returned the favor as he and Big O got us back home, snug as two bugs in a rug.
And even though Roger thinks he was able to sneak-up on
me that last time, I really knew he was there the whole time.
Really.
Besides, I'd like to see
him pull that gymnastic manouver I did as I went inside.
Typos, typos!