Day 3 - VOTING

Once again its the robot in my mind. Matilda.

Thinking on it some more I'm going with Penelope instead.

Penelope

P is for Paper.

Or something.

Eh... Penelope?

*shrugs and crawls back to bed*

I'm still not forgetting who you voted for first BR .

Penelope it is...hope this isn't a mistake.

Those who didn't get out the vote like I said... sux to be you. I'm closing this. No super-sized weekend voting this game, soz!


Lynch to come shortly

As Penelope notarized page forty-two of the rental insurance claim regarding the disappearance of several vehicles from the Enterprise fleet (which coincided suspiciously with the disappearance of the valet staff), she was too busy to notice the small crowd of angry people that had begun to gather behind her. In fact, she wouldn’t have noticed them at all if they hadn’t grabbed her and dragged her out of her seat.

As they carried her through the gloriously decorated hallways, they came to a rather drab door with a sign simply stating: Beware of the Leopard. Unfortunately for her, they decided to ignore the advice, threw open the door and tossed her inside. A moment later she was hit in the face with what felt like length of nylon cord, though she couldn’t be certain because it was rather dark.

The door slammed behind her, and she leapt to her feet in rage. Penelope managed to feel her way back to the door in the darkness and began pounding on it with all her strength. It was then that she heard a shuffling noise behind her, and when she turned around, she realized she wasn’t alone.

“It wont do you any good, it’s locked,” a voice said from the encompassing gloom. As her eyes tried to adjust to the lack of light, she just made out a slightly hunched figure standing in the far corner of the room. “Here I am, brain the size of a planet, and they lock me in a supply closet.”

“Who’s there?” Penelope asked, cautiously reaching for what she hoped was a weapon of some sort, but ended up being an empty bucket. Determined to stand her ground, she lifted the bucket menacingly.

“I would tell you,” the voice said, low and hopeless, “but I can tell you really don't care to know. I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t care to know me either.”

She began to move closer to the creature, bucket at the ready, and the closer she got the more she could make it out. It was an android of some kind, one of the newer models, obviously equipped with some kind of G.P.P., but nothing she had ever seen before. The way it talked, it sounded as if it were in some deep state of depression. She took the risk that it wasn’t going to attack her, and put down the bucket. “Do you know a way out of here?” she asked.

“Out? I can’t see why you would want to get out.” It said, dejectedly. “I’ve been out; it’s awful.”

“Yes, but...” she started, and then took another look at the robot. She decided it had its own problems to deal with, and started looking for ventilation shafts of some kind. The android watched her, and seemed to guess what she was searching for.

“That won’t work either, you know,” he said. “You would probably just get stuck and starve to death, not that you asked me for my advice in the first place so I’m not even sure why I bothered giving it to you, oh god, I’m so depressed.”

“Would you shut up??” She barked at him. “I’ve got to get out of here!”

“I’m sorry, am I getting you down?” he asked her.

“No, it’s just that...” as she moved through the center of the room, she nearly tripped over the cord they had thrown in at her. She picked it up, and for the first time noticed that the end had been fashioned into a noose of some kind. She rolled the nylon between her fingertips.

“Because I would hate to think I was getting you down. I mean, just when you think life couldn’t possibly get any worse, someone goes and tells you that you’re getting them down...”

----

Fifteen hours later, a member of the cleaning staff unlocked the supply closet, and was startled to find Penelope hanging mercifully from the rafters. As Marvin shuffled out of the room, the woman asked what had happened. Had the girl taken her own life?

“Life,” he responded, dismally. “Don’t talk to me about life.”

SKIDS please