These will all be fixed in the coming days at which point I'll remove this notice.[Prologue]You remember falling and the hard ground rushing up to mee... you, then... nothing.You groan and clutch the back of your head. Everything seems to be in one piece, but you feel pretty banged up and are more than likely concussed.'How the hell did I get here?' you think to yourself, slowly trying to coax your battered body off of the cold stone floor.You groan and collapse back down, too tired and sore to. "He tried them all—even the head football coach's door. They were all locked."It's getting to be three-thirty. I'm wasting time."He was hoping that someone with a key would show up and let him into an office where he could use a phone. He could hear the muted public address outdoors announce that the relays were beginning. That was the culmination of the meet and would take about an hour to do all of them. He knew no one would be coming back to the locker room until they were done."I'm not. "Hello, any clich ridden monsters in here" said Bill in a loud voice.(I didn't write that! Now, you'll be sorry!- Author)"What, kill me; turn me into a vampire? No, I got it, this is a Bad Irvingstory, so I wind up some big busted babe right? Welo, maybe I'd rather get itall over with right now, instead of continuing this annoying and boringtripe! Huh, how about that? Smuck!", said Bill in the most annoying voicethat has been heard on this planet.(Piss off! I am not going to write anymore-. Excommunication was the least of his worries. Her only regret was that she still had to pay the fool alimony to finance his dissolute lifestyle.She should have listened to her dear departed gay agent and best friend Arthur who warned her Roger was nothing but trouble. Only a couple of years ago, her best friend Debbie confided that her husband had taken her "doggy style" right in the bridesmaid's bathroom with her head almost in the sparkling clean commode. Debbie was so ashamed of the fact.
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