myOtaku.com: deadfirescythe
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Hail, friends.
I am deadfirescythe, the protector of this realm. If you wish to please me, sign my guestbook, and if you want to tell your friends to come to my site. That is all.
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I MAY NOT BE PERFECT, BUT I AM DEFINITELY NOT LESS THAN PERFECT!
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deadfirescythe may explode without warning | M EXPLOSIVE |
From Go-Quiz.com
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
ATTENTION ALL ARTISTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
hey, if there are any artists (good or bad) i would like to request that you draw Trevor Hawkins (a.k.a. Heathrow Dran) from my story.
if that sounded as wierd as i think it did, could any artist draw the main character of my story the Mistake for me?
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The Mistake
hey guys, i know i haven't been posting that much, it's just cuz i'm so damn busy. i am trying to get some time to write so you'll just have to wait for it. cya and plz keep coming to my site
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Thursday, October 7, 2004
Are you destined to be a psycopathic killer?
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hey ppl i will get my story up soon. i just need to get this massive load of homework finished before i can start writing, so bye for now.
Lame joke: Why is 6 afraid of 7?
Because 7 8 9.
yes that was bad, goodbye.
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Tuesday, September 28, 2004
check out my new avi, it's supposed to be a head of a dragon. anyways, cya laterz.
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blah blah blah
heyjust posting to tell you a phrase i just thought up.
So here it it:
I'm may not be perfect, but I'm DEFINITELY not less than perfect.
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Friday, September 24, 2004
look at my previous post, the mistake was updated! cya
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Wednesday, September 22, 2004
The Mistake
okay, here it is guys (and girls) the next chapter of the mistake. enjoy.
In the morning Heathrow wondered how he could have been so stupid to not realize that, by renting a room in a motel and giving his ID to them, he would be giving away his location. This newfound knowledge explained the post of the Speed that said the police knew where he was headed.
After filling up the gas tank at a nearby station, Heathrow decided that he would not go directly to his “friend.” He instead decided that he would go back the way he came, farther than his home and then come back to his “friend.” This would probably throw the police off his track and would also give him time to think what to do after meeting his “friend.”
With all this on his mind, Dran started his long journey back to the site of the mistake he had made not too long ago.
Heathrow’s home was now about 2,500 miles away, but he would go back about 3,000 miles until he hit the coastline. The first thing that Heathrow decided to do was to trade in the Stallion he had for some different car, so he began his search for a used car dealership. He asked around and quickly found a dealership.
The N. J. Car Dealership, as it was named, was quite big and was decorated with many foxes.
“Hello there, my name’s John, John Manik. What can I do for you?” the salesman asked.
The salesman was a chubby fellow wearing a blue plaid shirt and black cotton pants. He also had a pair of glasses.
“I’d like to buy a car, preferably a fast one.”
“Well I’ve got a few cars that are pretty fast. Just pick one you like, and we can begin the paperwork.”
The two men went to the east side of the lot and stopped at a Shade, a beautiful yellow colored sports car with black interior, but Heathrow said he was uninterested because he thought the yellow color would draw unneeded attention to him. So John took Dran to a classic Alternate, which was similar to the Stallion, but Dran again refused. Finally after seeing a few cars, John took Heathrow to the back lot which only had two cars in it. One was a rare Majestic, a gorgeous car with a custom “night-sky” paint-job. The other one was a LAN 243, the most-sold car of the last five years.
“See any you like?” John said.
“I do like the LAN 243; how about a trade?”
“Sure, what car do you have to trade?”
“A custom Stallion.”
“A custom Stallion! You actually have a Stallion, and it’s custom-made?”
“Yep.”
“Why are you trading it in?”
“Low on cash so I figured you would pay me the difference.”
“All right, I’ll give you 20,000 dollars and the car.”
“Make it twenty-five and it’s a deal.”
“Fine, let’s go do the paperwork.”
The two men went into an office. Heathrow said, “You know, I don’t like paperwork, and I don’t think you like it much either, so how ‘bout you just give me the money and car and I give you the Stallion and we can just go our merry little ways.”
“I don’t know…”
“C’mon.”
“All right, but we still have to sign some papers saying this transaction occurred.”
“Okay what do I sign?”
“Sign here and here and here and initial here and here and sign here and print your name here.”
Heathrow signed as Trevor Hawkins, an alias he decided to keep from now on.
(I will now stop calling this man Heathrow Dran and start calling him Trevor Hawkins.)
They traded keys and Trevor got the money and went to his LAN 243. The LAN 243 was silver colored with a black leather interior. It also had premium sound, and a navigation system.
When Trevor entered the car, the NAV (as the navigation system was called) asked for the new owner’s name. He entered T-R-E-V-O-R- -H-A-W-K-I-N-S.
Then he drove out of the N. J. Car Dealership’s lot and back onto the road.
hope you liked it!
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