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All I Need is You...part thra(Read the description, kay?)
Late, late that night, Grissom lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. For some reason, he couldn't get the image of Hermione Granger dancing the hokey pokey in a frilly red dress out of his mind. Her performance really had been memorable.
Sara had gotten up earlier because she could no longer stand the idea that her beloved Grissom might very well be sneaking out to see some adolescent ho, and Sara was missing it! It was inconceivable!
She went into the kitchen to prepare a Magic snack of Magic. She could really get used to this whole magic thing.
There was a loud knock on the door (which was invisible, making privacy difficult). Sarah looked up, surprised. It was two in the morning; who could be knocking? She looked up to the inconveniently invisible door
A gorgeously scruffy hunk of man-candy peered back at her. It appeared that his head was on fire. Along with his hot bod.
She left her snack on the counter and went to open the door. She was almost blind
All I Need is You...part two(Read the comments, kay?)
Grissom and the others were led into the castle by a rather recalcitrant old ogre wearing a yellow tunic that was too short for his own good ("Long story," he had growled when Grissom dared to comment.)
After a while of tramping across the grounds of this mysterious castle, Nick had had enough of walking behind this fellow and being forced to look upon his hairy, much-too-exposed legs. So he ventured a faint, "Do you get a lot of babes with that get-up?"
"No," came the gruff reply.
"Do you-do you get mistaken for a prostitute?"
"Do you realize how much you're disrespecting yourself and your fellow women by dressing in that manner?" Sara interjected.
"I'm not a woman."
"…Just thought that I'd bring it to your attention."
The ogre rolled his eyes. "Bloody feminists."
Another hour or so of trudging through the feces-ridden lawn (no one cared to ask what sort of feces it was) brought them to the castle door. They were greeted by a crazy-looking old man with
All I Need is You...and Them(Read the description, kay?)
Once upon a time in a little town called Las Vegas, there was the magical kingdom of Crime Lab.
Or didn't you know that already?
It had been a particularly taxing day for Gil Grissom, as he struggled with the perils of his job and his fractious existence, what with getting guns held to his head and those pervert writers all making him flirt with his coworkers. So when the package arrived at the crime lab, he was not overmuch pleased.
Catherine grabbed the package from the UPS guy. She was in a bitchy mood also, because her ex-ex-ex-ex husband had taken out a thirty-fifth mortgage on their daughter. After grabbing the package, she kicked the man in the shin and went on a crazy feminist rant. Finally, breaking off, she screamed, "How u like dem apples?"
Sara took over from there. As did Maddy.
Thank you, Charlotte.
Sara did not take over from there. The UPS guy ran away from her down the hall, and crashed into Nick. Nick was feeling pretty bitchy as well, due
EasyJim stands under the torn awning in front of a sleazy hotel, listening to the rain and the buzzing of a neon sign. He's wet and cold, and pissed as hell. He pulls his coat tighter around him and shivers, and growls at Tyler, who's late again.
He looks up as a cab approaches. It stops by the curb, and lets a young man into the street.
"You're late, Tyler."
"I know, I know," Tyler grumbles. He shuffles over to stand next to Jim, hunching his shoulders. "I had to wait twenty minutes for a cab. I'm soaked." He wrinkles his nose at the rain. "This sucks."
"Shut up. I've been standing out here for a fucking hour waiting for you." Jim turns away. "Come on."
Tyler stays where he is.
"I said, come on."
"I don't want to do this."
"Don't start with that."
"Look…I just can't, okay? Why do I have to do it?"
"It isn't your job to question. It's your job to do what you're told. You know that. Now come on."
Tyler stands motionless and stares at the ground.
"Don't make me stand out here all night."
CSII want to be a CSI
If I cannot, then I will cry.
Whenever I see someone die,
I will use my sharp, sharp eye
To catch the man who tells a lie,
And show everyone he's the bad guy
It will be hard, but I will try.
Every question, he will deny.
But those who, the law, do defy
Will get what's coming, by and by.
To do this job, you must be sly.
To chase criminals, you have to be spry.
(Greg is so totally screwing a guy.)
I might even work with the FBI.
They will be a good ally
If villains manage to slip by.
If you want to find out why
I want to be a CSI,
I will tell you, I'm not shy.
And that is why I'm superfly,
Enough to be a CSI.
The Italian Lesson8:00 PM.
"I give up!"
Ferris slammed his textbook down on Marco's kitchen table. "There's no way I can do this anymore. You're pathetic. I'm going home." He stood up and grabbed his coat.
Marco jumped up on the other side of the table. "You can't go, I still don't get it. I'll fail."
"Marco, your entire family speaks nothing but Italian. Every single person in your neighborhood speaks nothing but Italian. You watch fucking TV in Italian! If you've spent as much time as I think you have around this language, and still can't speak a word of it, then there are bigger problems here than I can deal with."
"I can speak a little! I just need to go over the chapter again. Please? Just once?"
Ferris growled and sat back down reluctantly. "Little bastard. Fine, one more time. But then I'm going to bed."
Marco grinned and sat back down, reading from his textbook. "Anthony cameena al negoshio ee compra un proshuteo…"
Ferris sighed and
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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