
(( A quick note about this entry. A lot of the jokes I make relate to game mechanics. I'll try and make notations of these for those that aren't familiar. In this particular entry,
Legolas is mentioned. It is
not a fanfic of Lord of the Rings Legolas. Pansey has a friend who is one of the many hundreds of Legolas misspellings that populate the world of warcraft roleplay servers. Legolas will often "lol" and use internet shorthand, causing some confusion for Pansey, who thinks Legolas a bit "special". ))
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"Pansey!"

I buried my head further underneath the warmth and security of my blankets. If I waited long enough, she'd just go away.
"Pansey!" the voice went up an octive, and someone began pounding on the thick door of the room. Such energy so early in the day! I almost envied her gusto, but not nearly enough to actually move. If only she applied her energy elsewhere; like the apartments further down the hall...
The blankets were welcoming, and I sank further into them, no part of me visible to the open air. It's safe in here, and I am invisible. I'm not here. No one is home. Go away.
After several minutes, the banging on the door became slower, all the heart gone out of it until a final resounding thunk against the surface could be heard. Some colorful cursing followed. That wasn't very ladylike, now was it? I'd always known the landlady was common as dirt. I lifted the blankets from my head and peered around cautiously, my eyes slow to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the window. Was it noon allready? -
"PANSEY!!!"
The woman has to have harpy somewhere in her bloodline. Those pipes! Perhaps a great aunt-
"PANSEY STEELSPIRE!!!"
No, it probably wasn't that distant. If I were being realistic it was far more probable the harpy was her mother; What a screech!
Some more cursing.
The colorful muttering continued and muffled scratching noises could be heard on the other side of the door.
She is creative though. I'll give her that much. I didn't know that @#$% could be used as a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, and modifer. A shame such a treasure should be confined to a small rental house such as this. Why, she could be out in the world, using that voice and creativity to oh, I dunno, drill the Silvermoon soldiers through their first week of boot camp? Or maybe she'd be more cut out for gathering sensitive information from the ene-
"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE YOU %$&#! $#%* FREELOADER! WHEN YOU COME OUT- AND YOU WILL HAVE TO COME OUT SOMEDAY - I WILL PERSONALLY RIP OFF YOUR #$&*ing $%#&! GIVE ME MY @#&$ MONEY!!!" A piece of paper was shoved underneath the door and angry footsteps retreated from the area.
Yes yes. With that voice and charming demeanor, she was definately cut out for the torture business. I was sure she could extract any item or piece of information from a fellow if given enough time... but would she be able to get money out of me? Ho ho, I think not, for I am the amazing, devilishly charming, Sir Dar-
"-Pansey, it's me, Legolas. Open up."
I shrugged away the last of the covers and fumbled for my gloves, pulling the soft leather over my hands. The gesture was soothing. "Is the cra- crazy bitch gone?!"
"The coast is clear man."
I stood up and stretched, cramped from huddling under the covers in a tight ball for such an extended period of time. The letter on the floor was a hasty thing, scrawled in large, uneven type.
Pansey Steelspire,
Pay up you bastard.
-Kisses, Your Landlord |
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"Pansey, dude! Open up man!"
I looked up at the locked door and sighed. Legolas wasn't the most patient of people, nor the most original, but I wasn't in the position to be too picky. Light knows how an upstanding fella such as myself had managed to aquire so many enemies so quickly. Friends were in short supply, and a commodity to be cherished. "C-coming, I- I'm coming!" I sighed "...moron..."
Each of the seven locks on my door clicked open exactly 1.5 seconds from the opening of the last. The repitition a further balm to what was a stressful morning. As I undid the last lock and reached for the handle, the door burst open, revealing Legolas... and that crazy bitch landlord. As I stared up at the pair from the flat on my back, I couldn't help but marvel at what amazing legs she had. So amazing, they'd been able to kick open my door, but the shape of them. Sublime. They went on forever and ever...
Legolas made some sort of strange "lawl" noise. He did that from time to time. I never understood it. "Sorry man."

As the psychotic harpy woman planted her boot firmly in the middle of my chest, I was granted an even better view of those legs made of heaven. It would have been pleasent, were it not for the popping noises I was hearing coming from my ribcage-
"I want my money."
"And- and y-you shall have it!" I assured her, putting on my most charming smile, which may have fallen a bit short what with all the twitching. I never did well under pressure. Still, the effort was there. The boot twisted. I probably didn't notice at first because I was too busy staring up at those surreal thighs, but those boots had some fairly impressive heals on them. They were busy digging their large and impressive way into my innards. Goblin craftsmanship perhaps?
"I. Want. My. Money."
I gulped. She was gonna do it. She was gonna rip off my #$&*ing $%#&. Whatever that was.
I knew then and there that I loved her.