Dr. Thorpe: Call me a loser, will they? Say I'll amount to nothing, will they? Well, when the science fair rolls around, I'll show them. I'll show them all."
Zack: "No, seriously, I can't get him to stop. One day I just booted up my computer and bam, Voice of the Dragon. The only way to get him to shut up is to unplug everything."
Dr. Thorpe: I may seem meek and mild-mannered, but I will only withstand the torment of my oppressors for so long before I am forced to take action. When I release the Voice of the Dragon, Jefferson Middle School will have no choice but to bow before me and lick my shoes, for only I can harness the fury contained within this beige box of unspeakable power. The mortals who have treated me like a doormat for so long will tremble before his mighty bellow.
Zack: "It might be a virus, it might be some stupid program my sister, Kristen, installed on here because she's a big dumb baby, or it might, like be an actual dragon. It says some pretty crazy stuff sometimes. Basically, my hypothesis is that the Voice of the Dragon is a good dragon, and not an evil dragon. That he's here to help us any way he can, but because our technological world conflicts with his magical nature, he has been imprisoned inside my computer's PC Speaker."
Dr. Thorpe: That's it, keep them guessing... yes, pawns, let your feeble guard down. Let your curiosity overwhelm you. Come closer, mortals; you can't resist. Yes, perfectly harmless. Just a silly program. Soon, the Voice of the Dragon shall resonate through your bones, and you will all be my unwilling slaves, and you shall dance at the whim of the Dragon's mighty voice."
Zack: "My procedure has been to try inserting different disks into my computer. I put some shareware games on there and reinstalled my copy of Falcon 3.0. That had no affect on the Voice of the Dragon. I uninstalled some software my mom put on there for taxes and the stupid warez crap Kristen put on there. That had no effect so I ran Norton Antivirus and that did not detect a virus."
Zack: "My conclusion is that the Voice of the Dragon has to be a real dragon trapped inside my computer. I think he is trying to save humanity from some of the stuff he says and I definitely think that he is a good dragon. Would you like to hear him talk?"
Dr. Thorpe: Yes, my feeble pawns. Come closer. It is time for the Voice of the Dragon to be heard. It is time to surrender your will, once and forever, to the might of the terrible voice. You need only hear it once, for your feeble will shall crumble after he has uttered only a few words. Gather 'round, my children, my slaves, my disciples. When I press this button, your lives shall be forever surrendered to my control...
Voice of the Dragon: Hear the will of the Voice of the Dragon!
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.