What do you mean you don't want to be a ballerina? How about a Nun?

Chapter 11
What Kind of Girl Do You Want to Be?

Elan Owen - Part 11
What Kind of Girl Do You Want to Be?
By Jesse Rabbit

Edited by Erin Halfelven

Now, I've had lots of things to cope with lately and I think that I've done very well, but trying to sort out my sense of feminine identity was completely beyond me. I mean, I had never thought, "Gee! I wonder what kind of girl I am?" and for good reason. But I'd never even thought, "What kind of boy am I?" before. It just never occurred to me. I just was one. I suspect that making me consider what kind of girl or boy I was, was Grandpa's way of making me figure out what kind of human being I was. But couldn't he have waited until I was older? Like when my body had finished growing so I would know what kind of boy I was? No, probably not.

I thought about the question long and hard and finally realized that I was stumped. "Umm... What kind of boy was I?" I asked Karen, figuring that maybe her answer might help me decide.

She shrugged, "Smart, quiet, good at singing, crazy? You were a boyish boy I guess."

"Oh, gee! Thanks! So much help you are!"

"Well, you asked!" she shot back, grinning wickedly, so I threw a teddy-bear at her, which she ducked.

"So, if you don't know what kind of boy I was, what does it matter what kind of girl I am?" I felt really confused now, and flopped back onto Karen's bed dejectedly.

Karen grunted in an annoyed way at me, "Elayne has got to think about it cause it's important what girls wear. Boys just wear anything for the most part, but even they have types: punks, gangstas, preppies, yogs, rocket bois, beatniks, no names." She grabbed my leg and began tugging me off the bed. "It's important how a girl dresses, how she carries herself, how she acts. You just never thought about what kind of boy you were, but it was mostly geek." And with that I fell onto the floor with a yelp and a thud!

"HEY!" I wasn't sure if I was protesting being pulled off the bed or being called a geek, but I figured I'd go with geek. "If I was a geek what were you?"

Giggling, Karen said, "A geek groupie?" She laughed and helped me to my feet. "No, really. You've seen how I dress. I'm a party girl. I like fun, I like info, and I like looking good. You just toss on a t-shirt and some old shorts and call it good. I mean, look at how much clothing I've got and think about how much you've got."

I gaped, "But these are your shorts and T-shirt!"

"And you picked them 'cause they were the simplest and the most boyish."

She had a point there, and I had to admit it. "So what kind of girls are there?"

She grinned at me, "This is the wrong place for me to educate you."

"Okay? So where is the right place?" I asked, knowing instantly I'd made yet another mistake.

"The mall!"

***

And so it was that twenty-five minutes later, after another leisurely bike ride through the heat, we arrived at that palace of consumerism, Watch Hill Plaza, our local mall, full of trendy places to shop, trendy places to eat, and trendy people doing at least one of those things.

As we walked, Karen pointed out various girls and women to me, pointing out the way they walked, dressed, had their makeup, or even chewed bubble gum. There were sports chicks, moms, goths, working girls, bimbos, intellectuals, grunge grrls, transvestites, princesses, diesels, biker chicks, proper young ladies, and so many others that my head began to swim.

I turned to Karen and whisper-screamed, "AAAAA! Overload! Overload! My Brain is MELTING, MELTING, MELTING! AAAA!" I sighed and slumped slightly, "It's too much. How do I pick? Why do I gotta? You pick! Please?" The last was almost - almost - a whimper. Dignity? Who me?

She hugged me and shook her head, "That would be like telling you who you are. I can't do that. But I can help you dress the part."

"But I can't decide! I mean, I don't like playing sports, I'm not an adult, I'm not a bimbo, I'm not catholic. I am an intellectual, but you said I shouldn't dress like one."

"No, I didn't!"

"Well, not in words, but when you pointed them out you sounded disgusted!"

"Well, yeah. Did you see what they were wearing? Their clothes were rumpled, they didn't match, and one was even wearing two different pairs of socks. Ugh! But look, if you want to go for the smart girl look, that’s okay, but just have some style!"

"But why? I'm too young to pick up boys, or girls for that matter, even if I wanted to. Why are you laughing?"

She looked down at me as I tried to look indignant, "You're never to young to start flirting. And the most important person to look good for is you. It shows you care about yourself, makes you look more confident, more powerful, and cuter. And why not try and pick up boys, or girls, or whatever. Just cause you get them doesn't mean you have to do anything with them, right?"

I shrugged and sighed, "I guess. Whatever. So, are we going to do some shopping?"

I remember making a mental note that in the future I should never speak the word "Shopping" to Karen ever again cause she almost pulled my arm off of my shoulder as she squealed, "Oh Yeah!" and dragged me into some store, I think it was DKHK or Lane Bryant or Yuki Akai or something like that.

As I stood there, staring in silent horror at the sheer amount of clothing there was to choose from, mind threatening to meltdown for real this time, a saleslady came up and asked if there was anything she could help us sweet little girls with, to which Karen responded by pulling out her credit rod and, grinning evilly, announced, "Yep, my girlfriend here needs an emergency fashion transplant. We're here to loot the place."

I went "Huh?" and they both laughed at me, but not maliciously. Over the next hour and a half I must have tried on three dozen different outfits some of which Karen liked, some of which she didn't but all of which I was told that I would look soooooo cute in before being herded back into the changing room once more.

Eventually Karen and Cassidy - the saleslady - settled on a dozen outfits, several of which were "mix-and-match" which I learned meant that I could swap tops and bottoms. They kept reassuring me that the clothes they were picking out would make me look stylish without putting me into a category besides well-dressed. At one point Cassidy even complemented Karen on her keen fashion sense which made Karen blush.

Once we had finished, I figured we would be leaving but as Cassidy began to ring stuff up Karen took an outfit out of the pile and handed it to me, saying, "Here, go put this on."

Looking blankly at her I whined, "Why? What's wrong with...." But I just trailed off in the face of her steady gaze. So I turned and stomped towards the dressing rooms, muttering "Hail, Karen. Karen the great, Karen the Bossy. Karen the Pain in my butt!." I tried to slam the dressing room door, but it didn't work cause of the hydraulic. Still grumping to myself I looked over what Karen had selected and sighed. The bottom was a skirt.

Now they'd selected roughly equal numbers of skirts and slacks, and Karen had promised to help me figure out what went with what and what was appropriate for which occasions as the need arose, but it wasn't like I was going to be wearing any of this stuff around my parents or at school. Especially not the skirts. I wasn't happy they'd selected skirts, but I couldn't make a scene in front of Cassidy, now could I have? But I had wanted to.

I might be a girl, but that didn't mean I had to wear skirts did it? Well yes it did, but damn it all! I wasn't ready to wear a skirt. I didn't want to wear a skirt. I'd feel stupid in a skirt. I might skin my knees if I fell down while wearing a skirt. I didn't want to wear a skirt!!!! So I put on the skirt, smoothed it out like Karen had showed me and turned to look at myself in the mirror, something I had avoided doing while I was trying all this stuff on.

There before me was the girl me, dressed like a girl for the first time, if you discounted the swimsuit. I was wearing a cream-colored blouse with short puffy sleeves, a black and robin's egg blue checkered vest which even I had to admit was cute, and a matching skirt which came down to two inches above my knees. I looked good, I guessed, but I felt more than a little naked, especially since the blouse didn't button all the way up to my neck like I would have preferred. But I did look nice.

I tried stomping my foot and looking petulant like I've seen some girls do, and it worked. I looked really cute and I was sure that I could use this to my advantage, somehow. Unfortunately, the look was spoiled by the fact that I was wearing my running shoes which, aside from not going with the outfit, were bright red and kinda ratty. I was sure this meant that we would be doing more shopping.

And I was right. Shoe store, four different jewelry kiosks, a store that sold nothing but hair clips, bands, and such, a sports wear store, and a store which sold nothing but girl's under garments. The last was 'cause Karen said I should have my own so that she didn't have to share. I sighed and followed along, my new black patents so stiff on my feet that I had to split my grumbling between them and Karen. The one bright spot in the shopping was when we found some panties decorated with Darth Holzt fighting Tyra Solo. Karen tried to hide them from me but I saw and wouldn't be talked out of getting them.

We even went into a costume shop, just to look around. So while Karen was looking at fairy princess costumes and wicked witch costumes, suggesting them as possible girl types to me, I was looking at the Batgirl costumes, figuring that might be the type of girl I wanted to be. Like Batgirl, or Tyra Solo. You know; tall, deadly-looking. Powerful and stylish, all in one. I almost wished I was older so my legs would be long enough to wear those really long, sleek boots, but then I'd have to be an older girl and I wasn't really thrilled with that idea.

As it turns out my ignoring Karen prompted her to come over and see what I was looking at, and then to proclaim me a genius - well duh?

I went, "Well, yeah! But what are you talking about?" to which she pointed at the boots.

"Those are perfect! Sam will love them!" and she hugged me and jumped up and down, giggling while I muttered, "So glad I could be of service." Karen is such a spazz!

And then, finally, we were done with the shopping. We dropped the last of our purchases off at the Watch Hill Courier, so they could deliver it to Karen's house instead of us hauling the load back on our bikes. After that we set out to have some fun and do some window shopping while Karen pointed out more girls and suggested their life-styles to me.

***

As we passed the Western Arts Cinema 20, we paused to take a look at the new poster for Star Wars Episode IX: The Balance of the Force, which was coming out the day before Thanksgiving. We were looking at it with the kind of awed appreciation only diehard fans can muster when Karen pointed at it and said, "You could always be that kind of girl!" and I had to hit her 'cause the person on the poster is the Grandmaster of the Sith, and although no-one knows anything about her, she looks really scary, like Malificent from Sleeping Beauty, only not nearly as charming.

"I am not going to become the living avatar of evil, corruption, and hatred. Thank you, no. And anyway, my skin is nicer than hers." Which it was, 'cause her skin is throbbing purple scales. "If you like her that much, maybe I can have Grandpa set your Watch to turn you into her." And, as I took off running, I yelled, "It would be an improvement!"

Karen chased me all over the mall and the security guards didn't even try to stop us, although I did see more than one of them giving us amused smiles, especially the one I hid behind briefly.

All he had done, besides smile of course, was to ask me in a whisper who I was hiding from, to which I had replied in an equally hushed tone, "Best friend. She's a Dark Jedi with mind powers." He just nodded and chuckled to himself. I bet he has kids or something.

***

After the chase and some lemonade to restore our energy levels, we stopped in at the Tower superstore so Karen could pick up another present for Sam, whose birthday was coming up in a little over a month. Well, I say pick up, but really I mean "fret over like a puppy trying to please its master." Every year Karen does the same thing; spend hours or sometimes even days looking for the perfect gift for Sam's birthday and since its like 12 days before Christmas - which we celebrate in order to get presents and not cause we're religious at all - Karen has to find two perfect and totally different presents. Music is thus always a good choice.

Sam is into Arsenal Blues, which as I might have said earlier, I hate; so while Karen was over looking at groups like "Sonic Blue", "Hammersmith", and "Razorvine", I went over to the showtunes section to see if I could find anything worth spending some of my birthday giftcards on.

Flipping through copies of Final Fantasy, Victor Victoria the revival, Super Mario, Cujo, Cats, Les Miserables, Terminator, Rambo, ALICE! (The new Disney one), and Debbie Does Dallas I figured I wouldn't find anything new when suddenly a shadow loomed over me and a voice that sounded strangely familiar said, "You like showtunes, huh?"

I think I squeaked in surprise at that and half turned-half stumbled 'round to look up - way up - at what was definitely a familiar face. It was Tyrone, and I was so stunned to see him that I slipped backwards and bumped into the rack of CMD's (Crystal Music Discs just in case they have ceased to exist anymore by the time you read this, like DVD's and CD's did when I was five, if you remember what those were). I yelped as I bounced off of the rack and fell face first into Tyrone's chest.

You have to give him credit, I mean, yes, I may only be eleven but I'm not tiny and he was only thirteen, but he didn't even grunt or wobble at all when I hit him. He just gripped me by both shoulders and helped me get back to upright.

"You okay, Elayne?" he asked in a concerned voice and I nodded, blushing deeply from embarrassment while part of my mind giggled to itself and crowed, "He remembered my name!" which only caused my blush to deepen. He grinned down at me and chucked me under the chin, "Didn't see you at school today. We was worried. Thought we might have to get a new mascot already."

I blushed deeper and scuffed one of my new patens against my ankle socks. "I... we... ummm... No, I'm okay. I wasn't feeling well this morning, but I'm all better now." By that point my face felt like it would burst into flame at any second and I felt my old friend, Panic, trying to rise up inside of me but I squashed it mercilessly by pointing out that even were I wearing running shoes, Tyrone could outrun me with ridiculous ease.

Ty patted me on the shoulder and said, "Hey, that’s cool. Oh, hey, before I forget, you gotta get yer parentals to sign a 'mission slip, 'kay? And we got you a date with Miss Vasquez for tomorrow after school."

I looked blankly up at him, trying to figure out why I would have a date with a Spanish teacher. I think I must have looked funny 'cause he started laughing and said "For yer outfit and so's you can turn in the forms and all that. You got a PDA?"

"Ummm.... Yeah?" I said, mentally kicking myself for sounding like a complete ditz.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a palmtop PDA, "Cool, whip it out and I'll upload the forms onto it, 'kay?"

Making a mental note to transfer all the files from my old PDA, the one I had left at home, to my Watch ASAP, I activated the download function on my watch and tried not to look surprised as it automatically interfaced with Ty's PDA, and although Ty couldn't see it, the store's computer and the PDA's of the other ten people nearest to me.

Ty went, "Whoa, nice toy! Gotta get me one of those. How much mem does it have?"

To which I shrugged and giggled, "Dunno, just got it for my birthday this weekend. From my grandpa. I don't know where he got it. It doesn't have a brand name."

Ty looked impressed as he uploaded the files, "Hey, cool! Maybe it's spytech! Happy birthday. Thirteenth, right? You did say you were in 8^th, right?"

I nodded, not wanting to tell him that I was only eleven... not 'cause that would make him think I was a little kid or anything understand... its only 'cause there were only three eleven year old 8^th graders at Cascade: Karen, Me, and a Chinese kid name Xiang Wu-bai, who was only fifteen days older than me. Karen was actually the oldest of us, her birthday coming just before the school year starts.

Ty had just opened his mouth to say something when Karen popped up at my side. "Elayne! Is this the new boyfriend? Ooo, he's big. Hi, I'm Karen, Karen van Lister. Elayne's cousin." She grabbed his hand and pumped it like he was a slots machine, "Can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you! Do you go to Cascade, too? Do you like Showtunes? You must play sports, 'cause you're awfully buff. Which ones? Do you like football? Do you like Elayne's outfit? We just picked it out and I was telling her that it really accents her figure, what do you think? And isn't this hair ribbon just darling?" She said all this in a girlish squeal and all in the time it takes most people to spell M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I.

Looking very much like he had just been flattened by a truck, Ty nodded, dumbfounded at how any human being could talk that fast and switch topics that many times without taking a breath. Finally, after sorting through the maelstrom of questions he managed to get out, "Hello Miss van Lister. A pleasure to meet you. Yes, I go to Cascade. Yes, I like the outfit. Yes, I think the ribbon is darling. No, I don't like show tunes, but I do like some of the music. Yes, I play sports. I'm on the swim team, the track team, and the soccer team. No, I don't like football. Do you realize that you talk faster than any person I've ever met?" thus proving that Tyrone Bigs-Major was both charming and no slouch in the mental department 'cause it's taken me years to master answering one of Karen's question barrages.

As I was mentally reviewing the questions in my mind to see if he'd gotten them, I realized that he had missed one. I couldn't help wondering if he had missed it on purpose or not, and if he had did that mean that he thought the answer was "yes"? I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I missed whatever they were talking about and was thus startled when they both started laughing. I looked up, confused, which made them both laugh a little harder.

When he had finally stopped laughing, which I think I might have made harder because I was glaring up at him 'cause he was laughing at me, he said, "Well, Elayne, Miss van Lister, I will leave you two to your shopping." With that he leaned down and gave me a little kiss right on the lips. "Until tomorrow, my little mascot," he whispered into my ear, breath as hot as I remembered from the day before, and he turned to go.

I blushed furiously and turned to face Karen, ready to give her a piece of my mind. Unfortunately, when I had fallen back against the rack earlier it so happened that my new skirt had gotten caught on it and in my haste to confront my evil little friend I managed to tug it free of my waist. It fell down around my knees, tripping me into Karen. I squealed, she gasped, and we hit the floor with a loud thwump.

Karen and I thrashed about for several seconds, trying to get untangled, until a pair of strong hands lifted me up into the air as if I weighed nothing at all and set me back down on my feet. I looked over my shoulder into Ty's widely grinning face and blushed bright red as he said, chuckling as he did, "Well, I hope you aren't always this clumsy or we are going to need a new mascot again."

After he had helped me up he offered a hand to Karen, but she shook her head and hopped to her feet without trouble. Then she gave me an evil glare.

"Why'd you fall on me you... oh my frog. Elayne, pull up your skirt!"

I gasped, looked down, saw my brand new Star Wars panties, screamed, dropped down to grab my skirt, hit my head on a rack, bounced backwards into Tyrone's arms, and then - mercifully - fainted.

***

When I came to, I was lying on a bench next to a pleasantly gurgling fountain just outside Tower Records, my head in Tyrone's lap and Karen at my feet. They both smiled down at me and I groaned. I tried to sit up to check on my skirt but Karen just pushed me back and said, "I fixed it, and this nice hunk of yours carried you out here." I noticed that Ty blushed at that, which I thought was kinda sweet, and then mentally slapped myself.

"You feeling okay?" Karen asked.

I nodded, and putting on my goofiest grin said, "Yeah, I'm nife. I the had strangest dearm. You there were, and there you were. And you Auntie em! And otoT too!" and then I giggled like I was stoned and tried batting at nothing like Sam's cat, Sophia, does.

Karen laughed, "Yep, she's fine."

And although I won't swear to it in a court of law, I think I heard Ty say, under his breath, "She sure is."

***

After I got another goodbye kiss from Ty - why does he keep doing that? I don't encourage him, do I? - Karen and I did a little more shopping, stopped to get my mom some Godiva chocolates which she loves, and then headed home.

On the way there, I asked Karen what she and Ty had been laughing about but she wouldn't tell me. I asked her again after dinner, but she still wouldn't tell me, and again after we finished our homework which we got off the school's netnode. Finally, just as she was leaving to go home for the night I asked her one last time and she said, "Just commenting on how cute you are when you blush!" and she ran off, laughing like a goon, as I blushed deeper than ever. Bah! Friends!

Well, way before that, when we pulled up in front of Karen's house, we saw the Courier van puttering down the street, the driver a young Latino man in his twenties. Karen and I jumped up and down, waving to the driver as he pulled up in front of the house. We ran up as he rolled down the window and said with a smile, "Heya, chicas. Is this the van Lister place?"

We giggled and nodded, "Yep."

"Could you girls go get your mom, I got some packs for her."

We giggled again, "They're not for her, they're for us!" we chorused, pushing each other playfully.

He blinked and shook his head, still smiling. "So which one of you little girls is Karen van Lister?"

"We're not little girls, we're eleven!" we said in mock outrage, which caused the driver, whose name it turns out was Christophe, to laugh heartily.

Eventually, after much giggling and the providing of ID, Christophe got out of the van and tried to carry our packages up to the house. I say tried to because Karen and I insisted that we could manage and he let us, grinning broadly as he loaded us down with package after package 'til we looked like sherpas in some mountain climbing movie. It took us five trips each, but we managed it only to come back to the van and see Christophe leaning on a floating hand cart and grinning at us.

Together, looking probably as cute as the petulant little girls we were, we said, "Hey! You didn't say you had a cart! No fair!"

He chuckled and shook his head, "You didn't ask, chicas. And you seemed so keen on doing all the work yourselves. Maybe I should tip you, eh?" We had to laugh at that. So we gave him a tip and a can of diet cherry soda, and waved as he pulled away, phewing with relief 'cause no one in Karen's house had noticed us loading the elevator with a ton of packages, me dressed as a girl.

We ran up to Karen's room and hastily sorted everything, put most of my stuff back into several heavy duty shopping bags, and carried it over to my house, feeling very much like clothing commandos. As we got into my room we heard my dad arriving home and knew that mom wouldn't be far behind him, so we just tossed the bags inside. We were about to go down to say "Hi" when Karen grabbed my arm and pointed at me, "You're still dressed like a girl, stupid!"

I looked down and was surprised to see that she was right. I was just starting to panic when a twisted little idea occurred to me. I looked up into Karen's eyes and grinned as wickedly as I could, "Oh no, I'm not. You must be hallucinating."

Looking really confused, Karen went, "Eh heh. Right. Did you scramble your brains when you hit your head?"

I shook my head rapidly, "No stupid, it’s a prank. Every time some one comments on it..."

Her whole face lit up and she started giggling, which made me start cackling and we fell into each other's arms, laughing 'til our sides ached.

***

Eventually we made our way downstairs, just as Pig came home, but she ran past us without even noticing, probably 'cause she was chatting on her telecomm with one of the Piglets (Karen's and my unofficial name for the squad of brainless twerps that Pig hangs out with). We settled into the entertainment room to watch some cartoons until dinner was ready. Sam came home, but ignored us. Mom came home and just called out from the entrance hall that she'd be in her office grading tests 'til dinner. The only person we actually saw before dinner was Miss Wei, who came in to bring us some cookies she had baked and some lemonade. When she saw me in a skirt she just shook her head and muttered something in Chinese, but then smiled and told me that I looked very nice and she thought I should braid my hair and that dinner would be ready in forty-five minutes. So Karen braided my hair while we watched Batgirl.

When the diner chime finally rang we trooped into the dining room and sat down at the table. Pig and Dad were already there, Dad reading the news on his reader, Pig having most likely teleported down from her room at the mere mention of food. Well, not actually teleported mind you, but I've never seen anyone move faster than Pig when food is mentioned. Neither of them noticed, nor did Mom or Sam when they came in. Well, that is to say, no one noticed at first.

It was over salad that Pig first looked at me. She blinked at me, took in the top, blinked again, leaned over to look under the table, and then squealed, "MOOOOOOM! Elan's wearing girl's clothes!!" See why I hate the little fink?

Mom looked up from her salad and looked first at Pig, "Michelle, don't yell at the table." Then she turned to look at me and began, "Elan..." and then she stopped as Karen and I smiled innocently at her.

"Yes, Mom?" I said, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

"Elan, dear.... Why are you dressed like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like a girl."

"I'm not. You must be imagining it." And then Karen cracked up and I followed a moment later.

Mom just shook her head and went back to her salad, muttering about children and insanity. Sam gave me a discreet thumbs up while Pig kept complaining until Mom had to tell her to hush and eat her food. Once reminded that there was food she wasn't eating, Pig of course forgot all about being a brat and went back to eating everything in sight, although once she was excused she came over and whispered, "You are such a Freak!" into my ear.

Dad, on the other hand, never said a thing until the end of the meal, but once it was over he congratulated Karen and I on a most excellent joke. And told me to remember to give Karen back her stuff when I was done with it, but not before the living room took a picture of it.

***

I had gone upstairs to put my new clothes away in the back of my closet where my parents wouldn't be as likely to notice them, and to ponder how I was going to sneak my dirty clothes over to Karen's so they could be washed, when I noticed that the door to my room was slightly ajar. Worried that Pig had noticed the bags and gone snooping I checked in my shower where Karen and I had dumped them to keep them out of sight. All the bags were still sealed so I breathed a sigh of relief and looked 'round to see if anything else was out of place. Pig has this kinda annoying habit of borrowing things that don't belong to her and not giving them back. She's done this to most of the family at one point or another, the little brat.

Seeing nothing out of place I popped some music up on my sound system and stashed my new stuff. Once that was done I changed into my PJ's and settled back on the bed, figuring that I would read my manual until it was bedtime. I snuggled back into my pillows, turned my reading light on, and reached into my night stand for the manual... which wasn't there. In a blind panic I checked everywhere it could have been, near tears as the frustration and fear that I'd lost it washed over me.

I was just looking under the bed for the fourth time when I spotted something. Something small, brown, and chocolate covered. It was a goober, a chocolate-covered peanut. This was a clue. A clue which made me realize instantly what had happened. See what you must understand is that there is only one person in my family who can stand peanuts, and that is - can you guess? - my darling little sister, Michelle, who I was going to kill.

It was that simple. Pig had stolen my manual and now she must die. I wasn't being unreasonable, now was I?

To be continued in Part 12 - This Little Piggy...

---

Elan, his family, friends, and Story are copyright 2002 Jesse Rabbit, who may be reached at [email protected]. Feel free to distribute as long as you do it for free. Anyone who wants to adapt this into any other medium (Like a movie, hint hint) should leave me a comment with an email addy. :P Thanks and enjoy.