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Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Episode 01

At last, Jen, have finished writing our first Episode. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the randomness.

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Our Poor Narrator: *looks down upon script in dismay* Fancy meeting you today.. Or… fancy you reading me!! -.- And not between the lines in that matter. Presently I am scrambling for the right memory in which to describe. That odd day of a happening in the life of Black-Kun & Aaya. Wish me luck?

Black-Kun: So listen here, as we start to dive into our non-understandable minds . . . there is probably a better word for that. Hari would know.

Aaya: Heck, with all those books she reads, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her running a small country.

Our Poor Narrator: *Ahem* Excuse me, you two but what does your obsession with this Hari have to do with the story? As a professional narrator, even I fail to see how this fits into the rest of the story.

Aaya: You are a mere figment of my imagination! Shut up, dearest narrator, and let us finish this. Now, set the stage my flunky!

Our Poor Narrator: I think she needs to work on her word choice. *looks back at Jen’s poorly written script* Anyway. . . that not-so-glorious day was during finals. Our heroes *said with an air of question* finished quite early since we have a waste of a class for 6th period.

Black-Kun: Let’s not get into that *sweatdrop*

Aaya: *bursts into tears* I will forever be remembered as the lost one who always grabbed the dysfunctional music stand!

Our Poor Narrator: *ad-libbing* Some hero.

Aaya: SHUT UP, NARRATOR!

Dora, The Human Time Bomb: *says nothing but twitches uncontrollably as an anger mark appears on her forehead . . . ticking is heard in the background*

Our Poor Narrator: *drops script, screaming like a girl in pure terror* Who is that?! I am terribly confused.
*to Dora, The Human Time Bomb* You! – How did you get in there?! SECURITY!

Black-Kun: Keep in mind dear readers that this blog exits because we don’t have the ability to create a web-show, but our blog should be treated as such.

Security: *silently lures Dora, The Human Time Bomb off the stage using an assortment of milk cartons*

Dora, The Human Time Bomb: *offstage, her ticking gradually subsides* Mmmmmmm Miiiilk.

Our Poor Narrator:*still recovering from shock* Can we continue please?

Aaya: Yes. So we finished our finals early and sat outside near the amphitheater on a rugged terrain of sand next to a area of mass produced grass. (you don’t have to get that comment).

Black-Kun: We sat our bags down next to us, while I started to take out my portable DVD player. Aaya took out a glorious and glowing object that would blind any drama maniac. ISWAK.

Our Poor Narrator: *ignoring script yet again* But I believe the correct name is __

Aaya: SHUT UP NARRATOR! The title is to cheesy to mention. And your script, READ IT.

Our Poor Narrator: . . . But it says I am supposed to sing the Hallelujah Corus.

Aaya: Of course it does. I pulled out a shiny, glorious and glowing object. By video game standards, that is important. The same thing applies. A glorious object appears = you spontaneously burst out into song.

Black-Kun: We shall try again. Aaya took out a glorious and glowing object that would blind any drama maniac. ISWAK.

Our Poor Narrator: *reluctantly* Hallelujah … woot … Hallelujah … woot. *aside and with a note of sarcasm* Let me find a container for my innermost joy.

Aaya: It was time. We folded our knees in front of ourselves, roping our arms around them as we started to stare upon the loading screen. I could swear that people walking by saw our huddled bodies with our bags and thought this word –

Our Poor Narrator: *looks down at script and looks back up* Hobos

Aaya: Very good Narrator. *pats his head*

Black-Kun: We just smiled at them and waved with no wall blocking our judgment from the outside world. Just two hobos who just so happened to possess a shiny portable DVD player, and huddled around it wondering if it could produce some form of warmth. *dramatic sigh*

Our Poor Narrator: Yeah right. With the way you describe it, it probably looked like some kind of cult.

Aaya: SHUT UP, NARRATOR.

Black-Kun: That could have scared some away… ANYWAYS, -

Our Poor Narrator: *looks down at script and reluctantly recites* Alas, tragedy befell our heroes. The words “unreadable disk” blew up upon that DVD player’s face. And those words quite literally blew up their brains.

Black-Kun: So, as we waited for it to work . . .

Aaya: We cried…

Black-Kun:….And sulked

Aaya: And cried …

Black-Kun: And sulked

Aaya: And cried …

Black-Kun: And sulked…

Our Poor Narrator: *following script* For hours on end…*aside*
Our “heroes” seem to have no life.

Aaya: SHUT UP, NARRATOR!

Black-Kun: Well, perhaps it wasn’t THAT long. Anyway, that’s when noticed a peculiar object about 3 feet away from mine. Yes, mine own feet. Bad grammar… Did you laugh at that joke?

Our Poor Narrator: No. You disgust me.

Aaya: SHUT UP, NARRATOR!

Black-Kun: Um Mr. Narrator, it might be wise to stick to the script.

Our Poor Narrator: *looks down at the parchment* Behold. It was a brown looking lump in the ground.

Aaya: I’ll be honest; ever since an incident involving perverted grasshoppers, I have a weakness for huge, black and freaky bugs. I was half or more like ¾’s expecting for this “thing” to jump and fly with long freaky legs sticking out from its abdomen to come kiss me on my forehead, or worse …

Black-Kun: Your nose?

Aaya: . . . perhaps. *ahem* But it didn’t. It sat there, slower than any sloth on sake, or, even more so, than my pet rock on “remain still” day.

Black-Kun: You have a pet rock? Since when?! I was not aware of this.

Aaya: A long time ago, in a summer program, I had to make a pet rock. I modeled it after the tiger form of Kisa from Furuba.

Our Poor Narrator: Pet rocks? These people are insane O__o

Aaya: SHUT UP, NARRATOR!

Black-Kun: Aaya and I inched ourselves over to that “thing”. Looking down, we trembled at a fossil-like, wood carved, insect looking, poop colored object. We just couldn’t figure out what it was. Poking and rotating didn’t work. Not even in the sunlight could we determine its form. I would like to call it a new specimen. Maybe the “thing” or “object” could play out a good name.
. . . No, I got it.
A “hobo’s treasure

Our Poor Narrator: *stares at script one last time* This concludes this episode of A Day in the Life of Black-Kun and Aaya. *sigh*

Aaya: No, no! You’ve got it all wrong. You are supposed to have enthusiasm. Kinda like that omnipotent voice from Veggie Tales!

Our Poor Narrator: “Omnipotent”? Wow. Big words for such a small brain. But don't you mean "omnipresent"?

Aaya: Stop it, narrator!

Black-Kun: *sweatdrop* Maybe you should try again.

Our Poor Narrator: No way. I don’t get paid enough for this.

Aaya: You are a figment of my imagination. I don’t pay you at all.

Our Poor Narrator: Why not? Spend all your money on ISWAK? Also known as-

Aaya: SHUT UP, NARRATOR!

*the end and cuts to random credits*

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