Current mood:

worried

Gah
I'm gone for, what, two days and the plot has moved on without me?

(Pedro)
NOOOOO~~~!
(/Pedro)


The City, exterior. Choirmaster, severly injured, is lying on his mother's lap.

Choirmaster: Ma...ma...

Mother: Shh, don't talk, you're safe now...

O.S.: Oh, I wouldn't bet on that just yet...

Mother is slightly alarmed when the ghostly figure of Evil Dot (tm :) descends in front of them, flapping her pitch black wings awkwardly as if she isn't used to them.

Mother (defensively): What do you want, Warner?

Evil Dot (pouting): Hey, I'm trying to be helpful here! Poor little birdie is going to croak unless a little Deus Ex Machina can intervene and save him.

Mother (suspicious): What's the catch?

Evil Dot (smirks): Ah, yes, the ten-thousand-dollar question...well, Choirmaster's Female Parental Unit, what would you consider a fair exchange if I kept him from dying horribly?

Mother (glaring daggers at Evil Dot): ......

Evil Dot (golf clap): Come come, that darling son of yours is going to shuffle off into the Great Beyond any moment now. You really... (evil grin) "have no chance to survive make your time."



Aren't I evil? ;p