Suck it, F.I.C.T.S (MMLS Edition)

[Kyle]

So, I promised Dashe that I'd write an entire short story if she'd start going to bed on time. Amazingly enough, she's been keeping her side of the agreement, so it's only fair that I honour mine! Now, writing is far from being my strong-suit, so don't go expecting any Pulitzer Prize material here.

---

Prologue - Luwak & Limerence

Deep within the depths of MMLS's main building, an electronic jungle of CCTV monitors, unread paperwork and personnel files acted as its central nervous system. This was the office of the Community Admin and Local Tyrant, Dashe. On any average day, Dashe would merely be sitting behind her computer, starting sick fires and giving droning commands to her Oompa Loompas. Alas, on this day in particular, one of her biggest fears had come to pass.

Eyes glued to a singular CCTV, she heard a knock on her door. "...Come in," she instinctively yelled across the room.

The door slowly opened, and in trotted her "errand boy" and junior member, Kyle. Dashe briefly tossed a glance in his general direction, then immediately focused her attention towards his right hand, which held a cup of brownish-black liquid. "Good. I seriously need my fix of weasel crap right now. Bring it over here, chop-chop."

"Y'know, it'd never hurt to say 'please' once in a while," Kyle remarked, making his way towards Dashe's desk.

Dashe glared for short moment before snatching the coffee out of Kyle's hands the moment he was within arm's reach. "Stuff it, kid. We've got a serious issue on our hands right now!"

Taking a small sip of her coffee, she gestured her head towards the leftmost monitor. "Tell me if anything on that looks familiar to you."

Kyle gave Dashe a puzzled look, then laid his eyes upon one of the many voyeurism-devices that MMLS's upper-management is ever-so-fond of. A chill instantaneously went down his spine, and small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. "S-surely this is a joke, right?" he stuttered, trying to remain composed.

Dashe pouted. "My sadism would never extend to something that could be used against me. This is 100% bona fide MMLS security footage, Kyle. It has returned..."

[Dashe]

I might drag Mr. Ninja back here just so he can read this and be assured that he isn't the only one I treat like an errand boy.

[Kyle]

Good. Do that. I could use the extra readers.

---

Chapter 1 - The Vowel Man Cometh.

A thick fog of tension and disgust clouded the atmosphere. Seven whole minutes had passed since the enigma's reappearance had been discovered.

Kyle merely stood there, scarcely managing to believe the total bombshell that Dashe had dropped on him. Giving his head a brief shake, he managed to piece his shattered psyche back into its usual formation. "We've got to do something about this, Dashe. We cannot tolerate this abomination roaming around MMLS for a second time," he declared. "I'm extremely worried that... thing will end up causing a freakin' catastrophe!"

Dashe slowly lowered her empty coffee cup onto her personalized Bonne Emblem coaster and crossed her arms. "You think I need a glorified coffee boy to state such an obvious fact?" She retorted, swiveling her chair around to face a nearby stack of newblood-signed paperwork. "Get Chiz to put MMLS into Alert Level Magenta. We've got an extremely dangerous individual amongst us now."

Kyle nodded and took out his cellphone. "He's practically my only contact on here, so this shouldn't take too long," he explained, punching a few digits into the screen and lifting the phone up to his ear. "C'mon, Chiz. Pick up, pick up, pick up...!"

Within seconds, a high-pitched series of keytones rang out from Kyle's cellphone; *Do Do Dee*

"Crap! His phone seems to be outta' service, Dashe." Kyle stated, sliding his cellphone back into his pocket. "And with the intercom system on the fritz after Mikey's little experimental phase with chocolate fondue, it doesn't look like we'll be able to remotely contact him."

Dashe let out a heavy sigh. "Damn you, Murphy!" She roared, converting the stack of paperwork into a blizzard of white with her foot. "Kyle, get my thermal flask. We're venturing out into Ground Zero."

[Kyle]

(Who reads this drivel? Nobody, that's who! But I'll post it anyway. )

Chapter 2 - The Adventures Begin!

Dashe and Kyle began making their way to the last known location of the abomination, the MMLS foyer. En-route to their destination, they came across various quantities of scrawling on the west-wing corridor's walls. This was odd. Usually the designated janitor makes his/her mandatory sweep of the area every thirty seconds, and yet, not a 'soul' was in sight.

"What, are the newbloods staging yet another protest-by-graffiti?" Kyle inquired, running his fingers along the crimson letters. "It's strange, though. From beginning to end, all this gibberish is completely different from their usual MO."

Dashe casually approached what seemed to be a mural that vaguely resembled a romantic coupling of the entire Dragon Romper casting. It was hard for her to pinpoint the exact origin, but she felt a definite sense of familiarity with the particular style of brushwork. Too bad the quality was utterly dreadful. Who uses a crimson ink for sketching and linework, anyway? Giving the 'art' a quick scoff, she turned around towards Kyle, and let out a whistle.

"We're wasting time here. Let's keep pressing onwards to the foyer! Also, be sure you remind me to issue an indictment to the entire janitorial staff," she instructed. If one thing ticked Dashe off, it was knowing that The Help were shirking their workload.

Kyle took a brief moment to withdraw a notepad and pen from one of the dozen or so pockets lining the inside of his jacket, and jotted down a single username and Soul Registration Number. "And by 'entire janitorial staff'," he lightly chuckled. "...You just mean Pwn, right?"

Dashe sniggered upon hearing mention of Pwn's name. "Right. Now, I'm completely aware that the poor kid is probably still trapped inside the pool, but that's no excuse for irresponsibility!", She exclaimed passionately. "Now let's get moving!"

[Kyle]

(I don't caaaaaare! What you're going to saaaaaaay! Let this storm rage oooooooooon! The hold never bothered you, anyway.)

---

Chapter 3 - A fABulous Foyer

The duo had finally arrived at the MMLS foyer, and no amount of padding would impede their quest! Now, they merely had to choose which path to take. The double-doors leading outside to the courtyard, the entrance to the registration room, or the express elevator to the basement. Dashe and Kyle looked at one another, each vying to make the first move.

"It's been almost a year since we've been out to the courtyard," Kyle stated. "'With such an unpatrolled area, it's worth the investigation."

Dashe merely gave the proposition a brief nod. Clearly she was indifferent towards Kyle's attempts at leadership. After a brief jog down to the entrance, Kyle thrust the doors open, and the two stepped outside into the chilly atmosphere.

"Why'd you make me take the stairs earlier, Kyle?" Dashe queried. "Staff Members or higher should only have to tolerate the inconvenience of waiting for their elevator to arrive! Don't tell me you get lon-"

Alas, but before she could finish her train of thought, Kyle suspiciously took it upon himself to interject.

"Something out here smells like sausage. I just hope it's sausage..." He proclaimed. "Actually, no. Not sausage. Smells like it... 'needs more talent'."

He surveyed the immediate area, hoping to track down the source of this pungent odor. Turning his eye to the base of the communal fountain, he noticed a leaflet and some mysterious black substance. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to resemble a burger patty or small steak, but with a charcoal-like texture and appalling stench. Kyle let out a heavy sigh.

"Oh, jeez! Seriously, Dashe? I thought we disposed of all your damned Grilled Whatchamacallits! What possessed you into making more?!" He lashed. "Don't you remember what happened when that newblood attempted to eat one?"

[Dashe]

I wonder how long it'll be before Let It Go references start to get old. I can also hope this makes it into the official MMLS lore, like the completely accurate and not-at-all embellished Chronicles of Dashe.

[Kyle]

The movie is still relatively new, so it ain't a dead horse yet.   As for SiF being official lore, well, that's up to YOU GUYS.

[Loken]

You have at least two readers now, Kyle. It's like MMLSCity except far more focused and quite a bit more vague.

[Kyle]

Eheheheh... Thanks, Loken. *Smiles like a complete goof*  

The story itself will be one biiiiiiig loveletter to the MMLS community in general, so don't be worried if you're thinking that only myself and Dashe are the featured characters. 

[Kyle]

Time for an uuuuuupdaaaate.

---

Chapter 4 - The Game Of Games (No, Seriously. Download it.*)

Dashe winced at Kyle's outburst. "Don't go shifting responsibility onto me! I only bring out the MMLS-brand grill during summer events!" She explained, desperately trying to segue the conversation away from knowledge that she herself invented this vile dish. "Besides, that newblood never even got the Grilled Whatchamacallit remotely near their esophagus!"

Kyle shrugged. "Exactly my point! Although, I did find it hiiilarious that the poor schmuck repeated the process seventy-eight times before finally taking a hint."

"Don't forget about that filthy sock they kept lugging around," Dashe noted.

Both stood beside the fountain for a solid five minutes, reminiscing about happier times. Then, with a satisfied sigh, Kyle leapt back into action.

"We're wasting time on irrelevant matters. Again!" He irked. "So long as we don't make it a habit, we should be fine within the perceivable future, right? Riiiiight?"

*For those not aware, I'm hotlinking the MMLS BBQ Adventure, a text-based game made last year. Download the darn thing, it's a blast!

[Kyle]

Once again coming at you with an update schedule eerily akin to The Chronicles of Dashe!

---

Chapter 5 - Bushmaster 2014

"Yeah, sure. Whatever, kid." Dashe shrugged.

Suddenly, and quite conveniently for the plot, a nearby bush rustled. Whilst being one of the oldest suspense tricks in the book, Kyle felt the need to let out the obligatory gasp of surprise.

"Gasp," he flatly murmured. "Hmm, I guess it doesn't have the same effect when you say it, huh?"

"Tch. Must be another newblood trying to escape," Dashe hypothesized. "Hey! Get outta' there, now!"

She then picked up the Grilled Whatchamacallit, and hurled it (using her arm, sicko) with the same force and determination as any professional handegg player would. Except Peyton Manning, he doesn't count. A thunderous thud rang out. Just what were these things made from, exactly? Hardened lead? I know we're nitpicking at this stage, but nobody does know the chemical or even genetic build of a Grilled Whatchamacallit. Will it even blend? That is the question.

"I just hope you didn't nail them in the forehead," Kyle sighed. "The health scheme, if you can even call it that, doesn't subsidize for stitches. Last thing we need is some newbie bleeding up the place."

Slowly but surely, a large silhouette began making its way out of the foliage. Who was it - friend or foe? Newbie or veteran? Alpha-Man or BETA-MAN? The answer is... Chiz. See you next season, folks.

[Dashe]

Oh, awesome! You're writing more of this! Keep it up!