The last sequence was in May; can you believe it? Procrastination's had me pinned down, but I've conquered him and I'm forging onwards.
Please note that this is the last segment of a four-part story (which I have finally finished). The first segment of the series is found here. The second, here. The third, here. Beware; my writing has gotten better since then, so the writing quality of the first few segments leave much to be desired.
A BATTLE FOUGHT AT MIDDAY
In Which I Defeat an Enemy and My Pen Talks
"Blasted swing." He cursed, sitting up and rubbing a bruised nose.
"Watch your language," I said, stepping aside and letting the personification clamber upright. "I have younger sisters, y'know."
He stood and dusted off his Shadowy Cloak.
"I see that you chose to go name brand," I said, leaning on my sword's pommel. "I can see the tag on the bottom edge. Everything Villainous© Inc."
Procrastination scowled perfectly, raising one lip just so. I could tell that he'd been practicing. "My cousin told me that black was the new blue. And leather was in style."
"'Cause you really care about that stuff," I said, sarcasm drying on my tone. (Making it drip would be rather disgusting.)
"You do." Procrastination spat a few times, evidently trying to rid his mouth of dirt. "Do I see a logo on your hilt?" He mussed his hair, dirt and dust raining down from the black, tangled mess.
I took a look at my hilt. A symbol in the shape of a button was carved there, and I pointed it out to him. "This thing? It's not a logo."
"Then what is it?"
I grinned. "It's a button." I pushed it. "Awaken, Pen!" And then I pushed it again...and it talked.
"I'm awake, I'm awake! Don't push it more than once, ya inked-up scoundrel, all it serves is your own impatience. Patience! Ya don't have any! Be quiet, I don't wanna hear an argument! What's the situation and why didja wake me up? I'm grumpy in the summers, buddy, I hope ya know that. Why, I'd—"
"Be quiet," I interrupted. "I'm trying to have an Epic Showdown with Procrastination. That's your job. We need to defeat him."
"Fight to the Write? Or did ya come up with some other dumb hey-I'm-a-geek phrase for a simple battle?"
I sighed. "Yes, Fight to the Write." The Pen fights better than a sword, I reflected. Especially when it IS a sword. A rather garrulous sword...
"Good," the Pen said. "En garde, Procrastination! You shall die exquisitely!"
Procrastination groaned. "Not the Pen. It talks more than my sister, and that's saying something."
He didn't have time to complain much longer, because the Pen lurched forward, taking my hand with it. "AYEEEEEEEEE!" The less-than-bone-chilling howl echoed down the street. (It would be better labeled a girly screech. It sounded rather like a cross between a dying cow and a turkey that swallowed a marshmallow and can't force it down.) I hoped fervently that the neighbor didn't hear him.
For a long time, we fought. Around the tree, around the tree again, over the downed tire swing (which Procrastination tripped over again), around the tree, up the tree, down the tree, and we knocked over my sister's flowers.
And we fought around the tree once more.
And then, when my strength began to run out and my hand began to tremble, Procrastination broke the Rules of Combat (Copyright © 2011 Villainous and Heroic Enterprises Inc.), which neither of us really paid attention anyway. He summoned help with a literal snap of the fingers.
Instantly, the monstrous Allegebra Mathe stood in front of me. He was one of the only two things in the world that are really indescribable; the first is the Golux's hat. The only thing I could clearly describe was the spray-painted sword, which shone black in the sun. Mathe wasn't the richest villain, but he prided himself in his shiny spray-paint.
"Here we go again!" the Pen cried, and before I could stop him, we hurtled towards the beastie (who was cruelly crushing the flowers by the front door).
I (or the Pen) took a stab at Mathe. He and I exchanged a few blows, steel against spray-painted steel. The paint began to flake off.
And then I realized something.
"Wait a moment!" I shouted. "You can't be here! I'm finished with school for the week!"
And then he was gone, just like that, without a poof or a bang or a ping. Just gone.
"Rats," I heard Procrastination mutter from close behind me. I tried to Heroically Whirl Around, but a black shoe tripped me, making me twist and fall over. I thumped to the ground, flat on my back. The Pen clattered to the ground, where it began to shout insults at Procrastination's trickery.
"You're a foul-faced flapstapper, Procrastination! Fight like a REAL Villain, and let me at ya! You can't hurt an unarmed man, ya persnickety ploshy—"
Meanwhile, Procrastination's blade stared me in the face, and I wondered why he had drawn two eyes on the blade in blue Sharpie.
"Now you're MINE, writer!" Procrastination began to laugh evilly, bringing up his blade to stab.
I winced. "You need to work on your laugh."
"Be quiet! I'm about to stab you in the stomach!" Procrastination paused for a moment. "....what's wrong with it?"
"For one, you laugh like a girl*," I said, and made a footnote. "No modern villain says 'Ha ha ha!'. It just sounds cheesy."
Procrastination rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to enjoy my moment of supreme victory, and you're lecturing me on laughing. It's annoying, stop it."
"Try adding a "Mwah" in there," I continued. "Like you're a chef or something." I kissed my fingertips in what I hoped looked like a chef-like manner and made a "mwah" sound.
"Mwah ha ha ha!" Procrastination laughed.
I winced again. "You sound like you're laughing and kissing at the same time. Cut the smooching bit and try again."
"Mwahahhahaha!" he tried.
"Great job!" I said. "Now, you can proceed to headlock him."
"What?" Procrastination said, puzzled, until an arm locked around his neck. Inspiration looked over Pro's shoulder.
"Hey, Jake." Inspiration grinned. "I'm back. And it's time for Procrastination to go. When inspiration comes, procrastination flees. You can quote me on that."
"I might put it on my blog," I said, standing up. "Now, Procrastination, we've Fought. Now it's time for me to Write."
Procrastination struggled. "Hey! I was about to win! You NEVER let me win, it's not fair!"
I picked up my sword off the ground, pushing the button in the hilt before the Pen could get a word in edgewise. "Yeah...it's far too easy to stall you. Maybe you'll know better next time." I then turned the Pen of Doom back into a pen...and twisted the end, turning it on.
Procrastination let out a classic Villainous "NOOOOOOO!" shriek as I stepped up to him. Inspiration held him fast, though.
I took my pen and wrote on his forehead, "Silence. It held the hall like the cold grip of death...."
And then, with a final shout, he faded out of reality...for a while.
*Please note that I mean no offense to either girls or their laughs. I was stating a simple fact. If you have grievances against me or resent me for stating a simple fact, please contact me using the information on my contact page (which I am too lazy to copy-and-paste). Thank you.
So, what did you think? Good, bad, needed work? Feel free to critique.
Farewell for now, folks! I'm hoping I'll be back soon.