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The Pen Loan
by Milky

THUMP.

Malthen's head whipped backward and his gaze raced towards the ceiling from which the thump had sounded. Thrusting down the box of old magazines he had been carting, Malthen rapidly strode towards the stairs leading up to the first floor. Malthen swiftly ascended the stairs; he clutched the door handle, gave it a quick leftward twist and threw open the door.

Before him stood a desk.

The desk stood in the centre of an office with white walls and thin pink carpeting.

There was a note atop the desk, and a pen atop the note.

With a few broad strides, Malthen quickly eliminated the gap separating the desk and himself. He thrust his hand outward and down in the direction of the note, and then with a single, swift, crisp motion snatched the note and brought it within view of his face.

As Malthen's eyes zig-zagged about in their sockets like demented wildebeasts, Malthen's gaze soared across the entire page. "Malthen, thanks for loaning me your pen. Jim." With a fluid motion Malthen placed the note into a trash can beside the desk.

Now Malthen regarded the desk drawers intently. Malthen raised his arm from his side, bent his elbow with ease and brought his forearm upwards at just such an angle so as to have his already-cupped hand fit smoothly into the gap between the drawer-handle and the drawer itself. As suddenly as the motion had begun it was complete: and Malthen, curling the tips of his fingers ever-so-slightly inward, gave the drawer a rapid tug.

The drawer slid outward, metal rims guiding its outward trajectory along round plastic rollers as it slid out further, further, further still ... and then came to an abrupt halt. Malthen's right hand dove in and seized a sheet of notepaper; and then with one lightning-quick motion Malthen hauled out the paper and slammed the drawer back into place. A dull thud resonated throughout the office.

Malthen quickly exchanged the sheet of notepaper for the pen lying atop his desk. He then hunched his body over the desk, and braced his heavily angled body with his left hand and arm. He whirled his right arm around towards the desktop, and swung his hand into position atop the sheet of paper on the desk. Manuvering the pen into position, Malthen lowered the tip until it touched the page beneath. He began with a stroke which soared down, down, ever downward, but then abruptly shot off to the left, and slowly curved back upwards. "J." The other letters followed in rapid succession, until finally the note was complete. "Jim, regarding the pen loan: you're welcome. Malthen." Surveying his work with satisfaction, Malthen let the pen rest atop the desk, grappled the note, and headed in the direction of Jim.


It was the olden days. A lady in a petticoat walked into the general store. "I'd like a block of ice and some molasses, please," she said as she closed her parasol and tightened her girdle. The old man behind the counter whipped off his spectacles and said, "Well I'll be hogtied!" Just then in came Doc Smith and announced that the pox was spreading and that he'd have to amputate everyone's leg. A cowboy sputtered his beer all over the place in shock, but then started yelling "yahoo" and shooting. Suddenly the door flew open and a bunch of naked, rock-bearing cavemen waddled in and began grunting furiously. The others sighed in disgust, called a cab and went home.

Backup Stop Onwards


If you like anything here, or if you don't, please e-mail milky@yip.org. You know damn well that we'd do it for you.