1602: Dragon Tales Lost Episode – One ShotPosted: November 26, 2016
Title: Dragon Tales Lost Episode
Topic: Dragon Tales
URL: Dragon Tales Lost Episode
Critiqued by Angie
A shit ton of faux spoopy stuff. Although, there are also references to physical and sexual abuse, drugs, and sexual references exchanged between siblings. So, if any of that hits too close to home, kindly look away. I’ll put another warning right before and after each scene.
Alright alright alright, I’m back again. Happy late Thanksgiving, patrons! Look, yeah I’m a little late on that ‘Happy Thanksgiving’, but I decided I would bring down the mood for a second and…JEFFREY.
TURN DOWN THE LIGHTS.
*lights flicker off*
I…I didn’t say to turn them off. Isn’t there a knob?
Jeffrey: Well I can’t see now.
That’s your own problem.
Anyway, I thought I would go ahead and say who I’m thankful for. I’m thankful for my fellow librarians, to name a few, Herr, Lyle, Ghostie, Taco, Ert and SC. But to name a few others who I lead here, Austyn, Keira, and others. I also wanted to include Andy/Max here.
But enough of that nonsense. Let’s get to what you came here for. The review.
Let’s just see what’s in my to-be-riffed pile this week.
*scrolls down, suddenly jumps out of chair, falling to the ground*
Oh no…oh fuck. Shit shit shit shit shit. The day has finally come.
…actually, no. Fuck this shit. I don’t want to do this. You guys can’t make me. This is Angie, signing off.
*picks up Baby the Pistol and shoots the fic a few times*
Baby: “Ka-blam!” “Ka-pow!” “Right in the kisser!”
Oh yeah. I forgot my weapon was fake. Anyway, I refuse to do this. Sorry.
*Hiraani sneaks up from behind Angie and slaps her in the back of her head with a frying pan, knocking her out*
*wakes up, goes to feel goose egg but is strapped down to a chair*
What…what are you doing?
Hiraani: *fiddling with the frying pan* There’s a fic that you’ve been neglecting, Angie.
How did you get out of the dungeon? There’s seven layers of locks!
Hiraani: I have my ways. Now, you must repay for what you’ve done to your college interns.
Why are you talking in the third person?
Hiraani: Never mind that. You must riff…*slides over How to Train Your Dragon DVD* this.
Are you kidding? I love How to Train Your Dragon! God, it’s got amazing acting, amazing score, amazing visuals. I’m actually pretty fucking excited.
Hiraani: No, take a closer look at it.
*peers at DVD, it suddenly switches to the fic* Oh shit…no no no no no, Hiraani. I’ve already said I’m not riffing this stinker of a fanfic. I refuse.
Hiraani: Well, unfortunately you don’t really have a choice. Read it, or we’re gonna beat the living shit out of you once again.
But that means you’re not going to get paid.
Hiraani: We already don’t get paid.
Alright. Okay. Here we go. Welcome to, I’m not fucking kidding, a Dragon Tales…Creepypasta.
I literally know nothing about this fic, and as always, I’m reading it as you are. But first, some background.
According to Wikipedia, who never lies, “Dragon Tales is an American-Canadian animated pre-school children’s television series.” A very spooky show, I’m sure. Shall we begin?
A few months ago, I went outside to check the mail. I have one of those really old mailboxes that is right outside the house.
Now honestly, author. Sure, those mailboxes are fairly old, but so are literally every other mailbox ever made ever. Don’t pretend that you’re such a special snowflake for having that kind of mailbox.
I leafed through the mail.
Gotta give this guy credit for his extensive vocabulary, though. Despite that, I’m not completely sure that’s the word you want to use there.
It was all bills, and fliers, and magazines. Then I noticed something else at the bottom of the mailbox. A video tape.
Ah, shit. I wasn’t told this was going to be a direct rip off of The Ring! I’m gonna have a serious talk with Jake when I get home.
Now, sometimes I find things in the mailbox like bugs, garbage, and things like that (a few years back we had found a squirrel had made a nest there).
I’m pretty sure finding a family of squirrels in your mailbox is infinitely more frightening than finding a Dragon Tales VHS. But that’s just me.
But a video tape. I picked it up and looked at it. It looked like a normal video tape. I looked at the side.
Probably better than finding, oh, I don’t know. Something scary.
There was a shiny sticker of a butterfly on it. I peeked into the mailbox, hoping to find some explanation for the video tape, but I found nothing else.
Um…uh…*waves fingers menacingly from underneath the duct tape holding me down* Ooooooh, spooky!
I walked inside and set up my VCR, which had been collecting dust by then.
Why do you still have a VCR? I’m not sure when this fic takes place, but all things considered, if you’re surprised to find a tape in your mailbox, then I’m certainly surprised that you own a fucking tape player.
Hiraani: Questions, questions.
Oh, go fuck yourself. You know that you’re thinking the same things I am.
I inserted the tape in and waited until it was finished rewinding.
The piece of shit sender didn’t bother rewinding before they sent it? Fucking bastard! 3:<
When it was finished, I press ‘play’ on my remote.
Wait, did we just randomly switch from past tense to present tense? Okay, fine. You could argue it’s to build suspense, like in John Green’s Paper Towns. But of course you must realise, when John Green writes something, he fucking knows what he’s doing. Pretentious twatwaffle author!
It was 10:30 at night, and I grabbed some popcorn and a soda and plopped myself onto the sofa. I was ready to watch this mysterious tape.
Seven days…seven days….
Seriously, I feel like this is some 9 year old who thinks he’s so cool because he just watched his first horror movie.
The video started with one of those WNED indents. I had last seen that indent when I was maybe 6 or 7. What followed was an advert to the theme park Marineland, the old advert from the 1990’s.
Angie: Are you really shortening advertisement to advert?
Author: Yo, I’ve got a lot of things to do.
During that advert, the screen kept flashing.
Flashing? I know you’re implying that it’s some random picture or video, but it sounds like the TV is turning on and off, which isn’t your point (I don’t think). I could be wrong.
I couldn’t make out what was flashing because it only lasted for a quarter of a second. The Marineland ad was cut off, and it went to pitch black.
Precisely. So beef up your sentences a bit, try to make sense of your own bullshit.
I was about to rewind to see what was flashing, when a familiar thing came up. It was PBS Kids. There was a brief advert for Chuck E. Cheese.
I’m gonna have to start a counter on how many horror canons this fic rips off.
Horror Rip Off Counter: 1
That’s for The Ring.
Horror Rip Off Counter: 2
That’s for Poltergeist.
Horror Rip Off Counter: 3
That’s for Five Nights at Freddy’s.
Let’s move on.
I smiled as I watched my childhood return to me.
If Chuck E. Cheese was your childhood, you had a shitty childhood.
Suddenly, it faded to what show was coming up next. “Coming up next…Dragon Tales! On PBS Kids!” I’m sure most of you know the show Dragon Tales.
If we didn’t, I’m fairly certain that we wouldn’t be reading this creepypasta. Unless of course, people actually like this fic, which I really don’t believe.
It’s better that you’ve at least seen five episodes of the show, before you understand any of this.
Why do I get the feeling that this fic is going to be super OOC and it won’t matter if I haven’t seen the show?
I mean, I’ve seen the show, but that’s not the point.
The intro of the show started. Everything was right, except there was no sound.
Well, no shit Sherlock. Am I supposed to be surprised? VHS’s died out more than a decade ago. It’s not shocking that the tapes aren’t in flawless condition.
Also, clearly everything’s not right if there’s no sound.
It cut off in the middle of the intro and cut to a picture of Max sitting on a chair with the words “Dragon Tailz” crudely written above him in red.
I was warned that this fic was going to be extremely fucking cliche, but this fic is extremely fucking cliche.
Also, if you want to see the artist’s depiction, click on the URL for the fic.
The thing that frightened me the most was Max’s facial expression.
He was pale, and his eyes were tiny. He sat there if he was trying to smile, but he needed to cry. Almost like the expression of a man about to hang himself.
*eyes squint, confused* I…you…what? I don’t…you don’t…how do…what?!
Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into this time?
The episode started. It showed an outside view of Max and Emmy’s house as it always does. The sky was a dark red, and the sun was an orange-ish colour. Max walked in holding his elbow. “Ow”, he exclaimed, “I bumped me elbow on the table”.
Aye, me harty. I bumped me elbow on the table.
Seriously. I don’t remember if this is how they talked in the original show, but either way it’s a stupid-ass choice.
SEXUAL EXCHANGES BETWEEN SIBLINGS BEGIN.
Emmy stood at him. She had a frown on her face. “Maybe if you’d fuck me then your elbow wouldn’t hurt so much”, she replied as canned laughter played.
SEXUAL EXCHANGES BETWEEN SIBLINGS END.
*eye twitch* Is this fic serious right now? Is this fic serious right now?!
Horror Rip Off Counter: 4
Silence of the Lambs? Eh, I’m counting it.
I was shocked at what I had just heard. She had said what I thought she had just said. More significantly, there was no credits or episode title.
Wait. How is the fact that there’s no credits or episode title more significant than the obvious incest in this fic?!
Then Max said, “Emmy, Mommy told us to not say that word”. Emmy took a deep breath. Before she could speak, Max screamed. “DON’T DO IT EMMY”, he cried, “I DON’T WANT TO LIVE THROUGH THIS ANYMORE!”
Do what, I wondered. What was Emmy going to do?
STOP. STOP FOR A SECOND. WHAT KIND OF HALF ASSED BULLSHIT IS THIS FIC?! YOU CAN’T JUST RANDOMLY QUICKEN THE PACE. IT’S LIKE IF THE AUTHOR REALISED HALFWAY THROUGH THE FIC THAT THEIR WRITING IS SHIT AND SO THEY CHANGED THEIR WAY OF WRITING IT WITHOUT ANY WARNING WHATSOEVER.
I was starting to get scared at this point, and I knew I was not watching a normal episode of Dragon Tales. They continued their conversation. The rest was barely audible. Finally, Emmy suggested in a clear voice, “why don’t we go to Dragon Land?”
DRUG REFERENCE BEGINS.
I’m imagining Emmy saying that with a wink. “Hey, how about we go to Dragon Land? ;)” *passes LSD over the table*
DRUG REFERENCE ENDS.
The dragon wallpaper was black and bright red. The dragons on the wall had gigantic smiles on their face. They held each other hand in hand and chanted: “I wish I wish, with all my heart, to fly with dragons, in a land apart”.
After they arrived in Dragon Land, they looked for their friends.
Your pace is going so fast! Fucking chill! What is your problem?!
They found Ord sitting behind a rock. Max approached him. “Hey Ord! Wanna play with my new truck?”, he asked.
If you know what I’m saying. ;)
Sexual Implication Time!
Ord turned around. I could hear bits of radio static. At first I couldn’t hear what the voices were saying, but I began to hear what the man on the radio was saying.
Poltergeist rip off, once again!
What I heard was:
“Well, Jim, this is a terrible situation we have here. Police have confirmed the plane carrying President Barack Obama was hijacked by a few members of Al-Qaeda. The plane crashed into the Statue of Liberty in New York City, the city where Obama was supposed to appear. We are unsure who else was on that plane, or if there were any casualties. I don’t know anything else, but all I can tell you is the Statue of Liberty is in flames and the plane was carrying President Barack Obama.”
Okay. One thing though. The final Dragon Tales episode was in 2005. This is a VHS. How exactly do you explain Barack Obama’s random appearance in this bullshit pasta?
Hiraani: Are you implying Obama didn’t exist before 2009?
Oh, shut up. You didn’t even know who Obama was until yesterday.
Hiraani: At least Koori was nice enough to tell me.
You don’t get to talk about ‘nice enough’. You literally have me tied and duct taped onto a bed. You’re actually holding me captive.
Hiraani: Tomato, tomato.
That doesn’t work on text. Nor does it work in general within this situation.
Hiraani: At least I’m funny.
Sack of shit.
During the time the radio was playing, Ord was sitting behind the rock. He had no expression on his face. He was just sitting there still. He wasn’t dead, but his face almost looked like it. I thought back to Max’s expression on the chair. Once the static ended, Ord walked away.
I almost got spooked by that. But then I realised, this is a Dragon Tales pasta. So I continued laughing.
He walked expressionless and he walked in a straight line around Dragon Land. The sky was blood red. Ord then gave a slick smile. A gigantic scream erupted out of nowhere.
*WHAM* Babadook. One of my favorite movies of all time. Don’t start ripping off my favorite movies.
It cut to a zoom in of a photo realistic image of Ord in a bony-like state,lying dead, with his eyes torn out and a message carved out on his head. In Ord’s blood it said “Hail Satan”.
First off. What does he look like in real life? I don’t want to think about that. Second off, a bony like state? I don’t think that’s the correct usage of bony. Third off, shit shit fuck shitty fuck.
It cut to black at that second. It then faded in to a church. The bell rang in a distorted, deep tone. The sky was still blood red.
Dude. You’re in a church. Unless there’s a very vivid skylight, there’s no way to see the colour of the sky. Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up!
The anchorman proclaimed:
“Breaking News! President Barack Obama is dead. He was killed this afternoon in a plane crash along with Vice President Joe Biden, and 55 other government officials. Also on that plane was rock and roll legend Chuck Berry, and 40 other people.
*laughs uncontrollably* Pardon me?!?! Chuck Berry was on the same plane as Barack fucking Obama? With 40 other people? Don’t you think, you know, Obama would fly around in a private jet? Why would he have other passengers? Is he broke? Is he flying on Delta Airlines? I am VERY confused. *looks at Hiraani* Don’t give me any more shit about Obama.
Hiraani: I’m just saying.
The plane was hijacked by five Al Qaeda members, whose names have not been confirmed yet.
This is a terrible, shocking day for not only the United States of America, but for the entire World.
Ehhhh, not really. I’m sure Antarctica doesn’t give two shits about the president of America dying. Don’t make assumptions, asshat.
As you can see, we heard blood-curling screams coming from this plane crash, and called the police to investigate.
*clears throat* You see, sight and hearing are two completely different senses. We can’t see what you hear. So shut the fuck up.
Hiraani: I think what the news reporter is implying is—
Shut up. I know what he means. Just shut up.
However, all they found was a shattered television, a broken game console, and a torn up couch.
Wait. They found that shit on an AIRCRAFT? I don’t care if it’s a private jet or not, that doesn’t seem possible. Like, at all.
I claim to have heard something that sounded like a knife stabbing through flesh, and a small few even claim to have heard gun shots.
That’s a weirdly worded statement. You claim to have heard something? Why didn’t you just say ‘I heard something’? You didn’t need to add those pointless words. Are you worried someone won’t believe you?
However, none of this has been confirmed to be true, as there is nobody here. There are no bullet shells, knives, or even any blood for that matter.
In that case, why did you even mention that you thought you heard it? I get that it’s supposed to add to the spooky factor of this fic, but there was no spookiness to begin with. So this whole bit is entirely pointless.
Apparently there is one last piece of evidence that the officers missed in their original search, it is a pair of glasses. The only real distinguishing feature is that the glasses are unusually round.
*WHAM* Harry Potter, technically.
Other than that, they’re just plain brown glasses, with one lens broken.
I don’t get why you mentioned the glasses were ‘unusually round’. Like, are round glasses rare in wherever this fic takes place? I honestly doubt it.
All of the officers claim to remember seeing these glasses somewhere, but they can’t seem to remember where. One claims that they were on a TV show once. However, he can’t seem to remember what the show is called, the only thing that he can remember, is that the main character wore glasses like these.
Gee, I wonder what show these glasses are from. Hmmmmm. Hmmmmm. Hmmmmm. Oh yeah, MOTHERFUCKING HARRY POTTER.
All we know now is that there is apparently a serial killer on the loose (or kidnapper), and a teenager who is dead or missing. Folks, that’s all the recent information we received. Tune in the next 10 minutes for further details.”
After that, the radio static came back.
Okay, so. Question. If this takes place in the past, it’s bullshit because the narrator would already know about Obama’s death. If it takes place in the present, it’s bullshit because the town would be in a wide panic and everyone would be talking about it. Our narrator would be getting lots of texts and about terrorists and whatever else. And if it takes place in the future…that’s bullshit because that’s impossible. Even in this strange-ass universe.
It showed paintings of the inside of the church. At that moment, I assumed this had something to do with the death of Obama. It zoomed in on the coffin. It was photo realistic. The voice of Zak suddenly shouted “Cassie, no!”
It cut to a black and white video. It was silent, except for random beeping noises. And by silent, all you could hear was a film projector running.
Jesus Christ. If you can hear noise from the television, then it’s not silent. I take back what I said about your extensive vocabulary. It’s bullshit, you’re bullshit, this entire fic is bullshit!
It showed Cassie walking around in a white background. She just kept walking. The beeping sounds got louder.
Cassie stopped. She walked over towards the screen. I could hear her breathing. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her teeth were broken. Her hair was shaved off. At this point, I thought Cassie could hear me.
Cassie opened her mouth. What followed was the most ear-piercing, loudest sound that I have ever heard in my life. It wasn’t like a scream, but a really messed up beeping sound that was louder than any human could hear.
My ears sometimes still ring from that, that is how bad it was.
Why does this shit remind me of some Paint By Numbers coloring book? Bob Ross’ The Joy of Painting is harder to follow along with than this asshole fic.
In fact, I’m lucky I am not deaf. Cassie continued to stare at me.
I hate that. I hate how terribly these two sentences transitioned. It’s like me saying ‘My favorite Pixar movie is Inside Out. Robert said Hi.’
I was getting scared at this moment, and I didn’t want to watch anymore.
You only now came to that thrilling conclusion, that you’re scared and that you didn’t want to watch anymore? Nothing about the previous happenings made you scared, at all. It’s like watching The Shining, going through the scenes in the bathroom, Hallorann’s death, the twins, and the elevator of blood, and then wussing out when you see Jack’s cryogenic body.
I tried to shut it off. “Uh-uh-uh”, said Cassie, in the voice of a crying and choking woman, “we must pray to Satan”. Then it faded to black. It faded back to a Dragon Tune. For those that don’t know, the format was two 10 minute episodes, and a song in between. I hoped that the nightmare had ended.
What’s stopping you from turning off the TV? I mean, sure Cassie told you not to, but she’s just a character on the TV, right? Is she possessing your remote too? How does that work?
It hadn’t. The song was an organ track that was being looped. The video quality wasn’t very good, so I couldn’t see what was really going on. There were about 500 dragons in a gigantic circle chanting “CASSIE, CASSIE, CASSIE”.
Cassie then smiles and jumps into the fire.
The video quality suddenly improves. It shows Cassie’s flesh burning.
She looked at me and proclaimed, “you did this to me”, before her skin was burnt to ashes and her entire body turned to rubble. It actually showed her being burnt.
What the hell is going on? I’m not scared or anything, I’m just…genuinely really fucking confused!
Suddenly, hundreds of dragons pounced on her remains. They began to scratch at each other. They were devouring each other. It showed dragons biting into each other’s skulls, dragons ripping off the flesh of other dragons, and fleshless dragons crying blood.
Well, shit. I didn’t think I was going to be so correct about this fic’s OOC. You can’t even get characters from a preschooler show right? I feel so bad for your sanity. And mine!
I began to wonder how this was a Dragon Tune.
Well, fuck, man! Me too!
The scene changed back to Max and Emmy back at their house.
Thank God! I wasn’t sure how much more of that bullshit I could take!
“I need my truck”, exclaimed Max. “Well hurry up”, said Emmy in an angry voice. Max then fell in the toybox he was searching.
Pity. Anyway, I—
“Emmy, Emmy! I’m locked! Help me!”, Max screamed. He was crying. Like, actually real crying.
That sucks. I’m sorry. Anyw—
Emmy screamed “it’s stuck!” You could feel the pain as Max panicked to get out. To make a long story short, he didn’t.
I’ll make the epitaph. So any—
It cut to a gigantic cage. It showed Zak and Wheezie on all fours, drinking water from a dish. They began to sing. The singing was muffled, so I couldn’t understand the words.
Jesus fucking Christ! This fic doesn’t even stop to breathe! It’s hard to care about these characters when you rush past their problems faster than a brand new race car on an infinite track!
After a while, the song became more clear and the voices of Zak and Wheezie now sounded like an old man with a gruff voice, and a little girl no older than four.
Well, fuck. I mean, you could’ve just said that they sounded like Don Rickles as a drag queen, but maybe people wouldn’t catch your drift.
The last verse went something like this:
“Praise thy Devil for he is thou, let him possess unto thou, for pain and torture are all we can see, it’s better you than him and me.”
*throws a bible at the author’s face* I’m not religious, but I seriously recommend reading this book. *sprays holy water* The power of Christ compels you. The power of Christ compels you.
Then, they paused. The little girl started to cry. It was actual crying, not acting.
Do not be confused. Her crying was definitely real, not acting. No acting. None of it.
SEXUAL ABUSE BEGINS.
“Stand up”, the man says in a gruff voice. “I SAID STAND THE FUCK UP SO I CAN RAPE YOU AGAIN”, the man shouted. You could actually hear the man rape the little girl. You could feel her pain as she was being forced to do something illegal.
SEXUAL ABUSE ENDS.
*cringes* Jesus Christ. How many poorly written sex scenes are we going to get in these fics?
Also. You say that as if the little girl would be arrested for being raped. I don’t know about where you live, but here on the West coast, that’s not how it works.
Her screams and cries echoed. Finally, the screams and cries stopped.
Finally! That means in this fic is almost over! Right? Please? God?
“STAND UP YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SHIT”, the man yelled. “I want my mommy”, the girl cried. She was screaming. Out of the blue, a loud gunshot rang out. The girl continued to scream loudly.
Five shots were fired. You could hear the whispering of the old man’s voice. “Oh shit, what am I going to do with the body?”
You probably should’ve planned this out better, huh?
The video cut to a surveillance camera room. The videos playing were videos of different angles of a plane crashing into the Statue of Liberty.
Just in case you forgot that the pointless Statue of Liberty scene happened, the pointless Statue of Liberty scene happened. Thanks for the reminder. I mean, I didn’t care in the first place, but thanks.
I began to wonder how the girl’s rape and murder and the terrorism act both connected together.
Here’s a thought. Maybe, just maybe…these things don’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter. NO ONE FUCKING CARES.
It cut to pitch black. Suddenly, a face came out from the shadows.
It was a terrifying figure from one of my worst nightmares when I was 5. He looked like Satan, his eyes were bulging out, and he had a big smile on his face. He opened his mouth and let out that ear-piercing sound I had heard earlier. I was able to stop the video now. I didn’t want to see the face of that terrible demon anymore.
Good god is this bullshit dragging on. Also, side note, how many cliches can you fit into a one shot? I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. It’s bull-fucking-shit Paint By Numbers. So shut your fucking mouth, author, and finish this fic already.
I shut off the VCR and stayed up all night on my computer. I threw out the video tape, but after I took some photos of the episode. Before garbage day, I made sure the video was in the garbage. It wasn’t. I searched the house and it was nowhere to be seen.
Shit, man. I mean, that would be creepy if we hadn’t seen this exact thing in every other horror story ever.
I never have seen the tape again, and I warn you to never pick up mysterious video tapes you find.
Thanks for the moral, fucktard. No one could’ve possibly figured out not to pick up mysterious video tapes. That’s literally the point of the story. We all knew that.
Listen, I’ve seen and read some shit horror stories in my time. Good God, I annoyedly went to see The Boy last January. But nothing has been as terrible as this fic. At least The Boy tried to be scary. At least it’s a little bit scary. This one just doesn’t even try.
And so, if you ever gain a little bit of faith for humanity, just remember that a Dragon Tales creepypasta exists. It might be saved if it was the tiniest bit scary, but unfortunately, it’s not. There is nothing scary about this fic. There may be triggering subjects, but none of it is at all scary.
Okay, Hiraani. I riffed the fic. You win. Can I be untied yet?
Hiraani: *grins evilly*
What’s with your grin?
Hiraani: *walks in* Oh, hey Angie. Why are you in the dungeon?
Wait…I…what? If you’re Hiraani…who’s that? *tries to point to the person at the foot of my bed*
Hiraani: *shrugs, pulls out Baby and shoots the figure at the end of the bed*
Hiraani II: *falls dead*
Huh. Alright. That storyline was fucking pointless. Hey, it’s just like the fic! Is this just a cash grab bullshit way of tying a skit into the fanfiction?
Hiraani: Pretty much.
Hmm. Okay, then. But…how did you get out of the dungeon and back in? And why did you leave for that amount of time? What’s with all these plot holes?
Fair enough. I’m sure I’ll forget about this in five minutes or so, and the continuation of this storyline finishes here. Because fuck continuity.
*Hiraani unties Angie, Angie grabs onto Hiraani II’s leg, drags her out of the dungeon, locks the door, goes outside* Well, fellow patrons, until next time. I shall be back with another edition of My Immortal: Wake Me Up Inside. My deepest apologies. *throws Hiraani II’s body in the dumpster* See ya later, homesickles.