Currently Watching The Blues Brothers (Widescreen 25th Anniversary Edition) By Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, James Brown, Cab Calloway, John Candy, Ray Charles, Steve Cropper, Donald Dunn, Murphy Dunne, Carrie Fisher, Aretha Franklin, Kathleen Freeman, Henry Gibson, Willie Hall, Steve Lawrence, Tom Malone (II), Lou Marini, Matt Murphy, Alan Rubin see related

Take on me (Take on me)

The other day it was raining and I fell off my bus into the street.
No, the bus WASN'T moving! And I'm fine, thank you very much. But... I don't know where I am. 

Now don't tell me Simon Bentley's face doesn't make you laugh.

Robo t’s Place of Rage.
This episode SUCKED. You know, I heard AAA (guy that plays Eko, there’s no WAY I’m writing that name, it’s impossible!) actually asked the writers to kill his character off the show. And I would’ve done the same thing. I mean, I should just have Tibby throw herself off a cliff in the middle of season four. If she doesn’t, I will.

the LOST diaries: pt. 5

DAY SEVENTY:
10:08 p.m. –LOST

Instead of helping with the fire at the beach, I decided to chill at Jack’s tank. The TV wasn’t on and we was doing pull-ups on the bar hanging overhead. That’s how his arms have gotten so big. The room appeared to be blue and the overall environment was very gloomy. Benry walked in wearing some weird white pajamas. Like some sort of crazy cult pajamas.

“Good evening, Jack,” he said. He was acting weird. More weird than normal. Because he was trying to act normal. Does this make any sense? “I was hoping you might join me for a walk.” I noticed he had an extra pair of pajamas in his arms.

Jack did that crazy girlish chuckle. “You say that like you’re not just going to throw a bag over my head and drag me out of here if I don’t say no.” …Did that make sense? NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE DOWN HERE!

“Then don’t say no,” Ben grinned, really creeping me out right now. I was waiting for him to break out laughing in a bubbly, airy giggle. He put the shirt on the platform. “Why don’t you put this on?” He then turned robotically and said, “I’ll wait outside.” …Creepy! And besides, it’s not like Jack is going to strip and run around the tank and dance. It’s just a shirt, for Sam’s sake. As he headed to the door, Jack started to ask him if he was feeling any pain in his neck, had any feeling in his fingertips and other medical questions. Ben asked why he was being asked these questions.

“You have a tumor on your spine,” Jack explained. “An aggressive tumor. That is going to kill you. I don’t know when those x-rays were taken that I saw, but unless they were very recent, you’re not going to be taking walks much longer.

Ben stared at him blankly, then laughed and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Which was pretty damn obvious that he knew exactly what Jack was talking about. Jack merely shrugged and told Ben he was ready for that walk. Ben led Jack outside, where Jason was waiting, also in white pajamas. I guess Jack wasn’t thinking about being sacrificed in some sort of weird ritual, but it was all I could think about. I mean, what else does matching clothes ever mean outside prison and Catholic school? They walked to the beach, where a group of white pajamas were crowded around a covered body. Some people had to physically pry Prickett off the body, so I’m assuming it was Colleen. Jack and I watched the bizarre scene of them picking up the raft that Colleen and all her flowers were perched on as Brenda Lee’s “I Wonder” played (don’t ask how I know the song). Then they set Colleen on fire. Okay, yes, people and civilizations all over the world will burn those who have passed, but really. When you think about it, human beings do the weirdest things to their dead. I should know. Jack watched and I was suddenly distracted by the spooked look on Ben’s face, and not to mention his hair. Just… What is going on up there?

DAY SEVENTY-ONE:
12: 15 p.m. –LOST

Sayid came back yesterday afternoon, and this morning Locke was explaining his plan to rescue Kate, Sawyer, and Jack. I notice that no one’s in that big of a hurry to get them back. I mean…it’s not like they’re going anywhere. And if they are, even better. The less we have to worry about them.

“Can I ask why he’s being included in the conversation?” Sayid asked sheepishly. Locke and Sayid were sitting across from each other at one of the fires, and Desmond was loudly munching on a mango behind them. I guess Sayid didn’t care that I was there. Damn straight.

“Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?” Desmond smirked as he licked the juice off the knife he was stabbing the mango with. Sayid was revolted, but Locke smiled at Desmond like he was the largest, cutest, hairiest infant he’s ever seen.

“Tell him what you told me,” he smirked.

“The computer in the hatch wasn’t only for pushing a button,” Desmond explained. “I’m pretty sure it can be used to communicate with other stations.”

…WOW! The information itself wasn’t that great of a landmark, but the fact that they were coming up with it NOW? Astonishing! I applauded. Sayid shared my feelings. “This is fascinating,” he said flatly. “But you just told me the hatch exploded.” Locke corrected him, saying that only one did.

“You want to try and communicate with the Others,” Sayid stated. Locke nodded, and Charlie and Hurley came over, saying that they couldn’t find Eko, who apparently ran off again last night. Seriously, we have GOT to put that dude on a leash.

“There’s no trail,” Charlie said.

“Not that we know what a trail looks like,” Hurley hinted. I guess Eko isn’t a big priority either. There is no way Locke would have left CHARLIE and HURLEY to efficiently find him. He might as well have sent me, drunk and blindfolded, and I would’ve gotten better results. Locke asked Charlie if he said anything before he disappeared last night.

“Nothing…coherent. He was just mumbling. My brother, my brother…”

Locke soaked this in, and then got a look of realization on his face. “Sayid, pack your gear, we’re going to that computer.”

“Wait, what about Eko?” Charlie asked as Locke began to walk off.

“We’ll catch up to him,” he jogged, his arms swaying like a twelve year old girl. “We’re all going to the same place.”

4: 16 p.m. –LOST

For some reason, this “kitchen” we’ve got is a major hangout. Like a bar. People will eat off the table, and occasionally Desmond will come by and lounge on it. Then we’ll have to sterilize it. Crazy bastard. Charlie, Hurley, and I were cutting some pineapple to put in my Chuhai, and Paulo and that chick Nikki were opening cans. You could cut the silence with a knife, and I glanced at the possible weapon in my hand and wondered…

“We’re heading out to the Pearl Station, there’s a computer there that might help us find our people,” Locke explained as he walked into the kitchen with Sayid and Desmond and started packing items in his bag. “Anybody wanna come along?”

“Whaddya mean, ‘anybody wanna come along’?” Hurley asked.

“I mean, if you’d like to join us, it’s a free island,” Locke answered, reaching for the brightest red apple I’ve ever seen.

“Yeah, see Jack would go and do stuff alone,” Hurley said. “Or he’d take Sayid or Kate.”

I had moved for Locke to grab things, and could practically feel the angry heat radiating from his bald head. “Yeah, well…” BREATHE IN. “I’m not Jack.” He grinned at everyone else and left, saying, “The more, the merrier.”

I punched Hurley’s arm. What the hell was that about? There was no reason at all to say what he did. Did someone pay him to say that? That was so stupid. There was going to be a punch for every thought, but then Nikki raised her hand and said, “I’ll go.”

“What?” Paulo and I said simultaneously. We exchanged dark glances and I continued to stab my pineapple as he said, “You’re not serious.”

“What? You always whine about not being included. Now’s our chance,” Nikki said as she left. Paulo and I exchanged glances again and both bolted in our separate directions, which was difficult, because we were both in the other’s way and savagely pushed the other to get by. I raced to where Locke and Desmond were filling their water bottles by the…well thing…we’ve got, I dunno what it’s called, and nearly tackled Desmond to the ground.

“Locke! You’re not serious, are you?” I cried.

“Serious about what?” he asked.

“About letting those… newbies come with us!”

“What do you mean?”

“Man, we have a thing going! It’s OUR thing! We can’t let other people come into our thing! Not now!”

Locke looked confused. Desmond looked curious. “Tibby…” Locke said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Nikki wants to come with us,” I explained. “And Paulo.”

Locke grinned. “Great! The more the-“

“No! This isn’t going to be merry! This is just going to be more! Haven’t you heard? Two’s company, three’s a crowd, so there’s you, Desmond, Sayid… That’s FIVE! Five’s a mob! Of angry villagers! With pitchforks and torches and-“

Locke cut me off and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You know,” he said. “You’re welcome to join us.”

He left, leaving Desmond to give me that crazy grin. “Oh, button your shirt, you crazy bastard,” I snapped. And we were off. Locke led us through the jungle and I stood behind him so Sayid and Desmond could form a barrier between me and Paulo and Nikki, who brought up the rear. Not long afterward, we came across Eko, sprawled out in the creek. Locke assumed we were all going to the same place and had him join us, and he staggered through the jungle beside Locke. When Eko nearly fell in his determined stumble, Locke offered to stop, but Eko wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“You’re heading for the plane wreckage, aren’t ya?” Locke asked. “Charlie heard you call for your brother before you left the camp.” Eko looked around the trees, trying to recognize the spot and looking absolutely bewildered. “Is that what you’re doing out here? Looking for Yemi?”

Eko suddenly pinned Locke to a tree and put a knife to his throat. “Do not speak my brother’s name again,” he threatened. I looked back at Desmond and Sayid. They both looked startled and ready to bolt. Aaaaand Nikki and Paulo were making out.

“Shouldn’t we do something?” I hissed.

“Bitch, you crazy?” Desmond snapped, giving me a subtle yet still creepy grin again. Sayid looked at the both of us as we danced around. Yes, I’m slowly getting over my jealousy over Desmond. He’s my new mate, simply because of everyone on the island, me and Desmond have the most in common, even with our supernatural abilities! And, even though I’m still friends with Hurley and Charlie, they are WAY too stupid and annoying to be around more than forty minutes to an hour at a time. Eko let go of Locke and we continued to walk toward the Pearl Station. We came across it and Eko immediately walked toward the plane as Locke instructed Sayid to take everyone down to the hatch.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Locke said.

“What’s Eko looking for?” Paulo loudly asked.

“His brother’s body is in that plane,” Nikki whispered, annoying me greatly that she somehow had gotten a hold of such personal information in regards to Eko. Sayid and Desmond opened the hatch door and stared at the almost computer animated tunnel leading into the Station. I said almost. I wondered aloud if the people in this hatch had a front door, because the ladder they had leading downward seemed for decorative purposes. It was like rock climbing, except with nifty metal squares sticking out of the wall that some crazy German designer expected us to not fall and break our necks once we tried to descend down the tunnel. Sayid climbed down, and after Nikki and Paulo, Desmond went. He was standing in the hatch, waiting for me to come down as I rocked in one of the armchairs. He was a bit startled to see me waving at him as I reclined, but was too distracted by the overall appearance of this new hatch to ask how I got there. Locke came down and he, Sayid, and Desmond were tinkering with some box with wires in it as Nikki and I watched the boring Orientation film. She seemed fascinated by it, though, and suddenly asked what the Other TVs were for.

“To observe the other Stations, duh,” I answered, flipping through a DHARMA notebook. Locke still looked confused in regards to Nikki’s question, so she rewound the tape, where that one guy was talking about monitoring other Station’s projects.

“Projects. More than one. So maybe some of these TVs are connected to the other hatches,” she said. Locke kicked at the floor and said he suddenly felt very stupid. Did he forget that the last time we were here we observed Jack picking his nose? Or was he pretending to not know about it so Desmond wouldn’t freak out that someone had been watching him take showers for years. Or maybe the old bastard was simply losing it. Sayid said some technical mumbo-jumbo, explaining that he could do something with the wires so we could see what was going on in the other hatches. There was suddenly a loud flush, and Pablo came out of the bathroom.

“The toilet works,” he coughed. We all stared at him.

“Why are you here?” I asked him. Of course, the thought of what shape that bathroom was in made me stop thinking of any insults I could call him immediately. I mean, think about it. It ought to be disgusting, unless this Pearl Station has cleaning ladies that come in here once a week. Oh, Pablo, that brave soul. Or, more likely, that brainless moron. Then, get this, he begins to EAT SOME FRUIT. I hope that dumbass gets E. coli or the Black Plague or something, the sick bastard. Sayid did something to one of the wires and an image showed up on one of the screens. It was another Vegas Room, except that one looked quite smaller and more shabbier.

“Those are computers! Great. That's what you're looking for! Now we can get out of here,” Pablo said, munching on his mango. The camera was slowly panning around the room, something I don’t remember it doing at the other hatch, and Nikki screamed when a man wearing an eye patch suddenly came into view. He turned his head and tapped the camera quizzically before covering it with his hand and shutting it off, leaving us with static.

“I guess he’ll be expecting us,” Locke smirked.

“Guys!” I said, for the Epiphany Fairy had smacked the back of my head. “You know what this means?” Everyone stared in anticipation. “There are PIRATES on the island! This explains it all!”

Sayid nodded, got up and wiped his hands on his pants. “Yes, Tibby. That is exactly the type of assessment we need.” He looked at Pablo. “You. Take notes. And I hope you washed your hands.”

5:23 p.m. –LOST

Everyone was discussing this mysterious pirate in this mysterious other hatch, and I decided to leave. Much more productive things were going on over by the Others’ place, but the zooniverse was empty so I checked in on Jack’s Fish Tank. Juliet was wheeling in the TV to torture Jack some more, saying that she was going to put a movie on. Jack, obviously assuming it was some crappy old animated film, perhaps Bambi (which I never got, by the way, but I’m not going on a rampage about my Bambi issues), said he didn’t want to see a movie. 

“You’ll like it,” she insisted. “It’s To Kill A Mockingbird. It’s a classic.” …Oh, Gandalf, I can’t resist this one. Although I’ve never seen the movie, except for one time when I was in a hotel room and watched a few minutes at the end, realized Gregory Peck was a robot and that the film wasn’t in color, and loudly said, “Screw this!”, I’ve read the book, and have always wondered WHY it’s called To Kill A Mockingbird. There were no mockingbirds! Jack still was resisting, and Juliet said she’d put the sound down. Which completely depletes the whole “watching the movie” experience. He’s in a damn fish tank, and now he’s going to have to see a black and white film with the sound off? What are we, in the Stone Age? Juliet put the movie on and started apologizing for the whole “being held captive” thing. I noticed that the movie was playing in color. And that Juliet was in it. ...Was Juliet the mockingbird? She was holding a card that said: IGNORE EVERYTHING I’M SAYING. …I took the guess that this wasn’t To Kill A Mockingbird.

For the next few minutes, Juliet would say something like, “Ben, he’s a great man.” Video Juliet would hold up the BEN IS A LIAR card. Real Juliet was saying that Jack had to do everything to save Benry’s life, while Video Juliet would say that Jack could leave him in the dust on the surgery table and that no one would know.

I vaguely wondered what would’ve happened had Juliet informed Jack that he’d be watching To Kill A Mockingbird and what she would’ve done had he said, “Man, I LOVE that movie! Turn it up!” I’d like to think she would’ve gulped, coughed, shook her head, and said, “Oh, I forgot. It’s… Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. You like Sandra Bullock?”

I sneered as I could hear the gears in Jack’s head moving. Knowing him, he wouldn’t consider both of his options, just go with the latest one and run off with it. I hated when he did that. These Others are nuts, and you can’t trust anyone, yes, INCLUDING THE BLONDE CAUCASIAN FEMALE, Jack! They’re playing with him, I know it, by baiting him with this woman who I initially thought was Penny, than Jack’s wife, than any other white blonde woman, because they all look the same, and that’s exactly how they’re going to trick him into doing something that will have severe consequences either way, and either way he’s going to realize he’s been tricked, and then I pray that he’ll go apeshit and rip someone’s face off. But that’s just wishful thinking. Video Juliet held up the NOW TELL ME TO TURN OFF THE MOVIE card, and Jack did so with a frustrated and annoyed voice. He demanded that she leave, and she obliged, but not before saying, “Think about what I said. Please.”

My first thought was that he should let Benry live, simply so I could see Juliet in a fit of rage. If Jack was smart, which I think he’s vaguely… Well, he went to Columbia, so he’s got to know SOMETHING! But I think he knows that Benry’s in charge here, and that he should work some sort of deal with him in exchange of saving his life. My suggestion: somehow work together, so they’re on the same page. You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. And, if I know Jack, I know he wouldn’t take my advice in a million years. Simply because he thinks with his bollocks, and is encouraged by the mistakes of his past to go in one direction when he doesn’t consider the options of doing something completely out of the box and therefore doing something that might possibly save his and maybe a few other people’s skins. So his feeble mind can’t take such drastic measures. Or can it? …No, no it can’t.

…Morons.

Currently Listening New World Record By Poster Children see related

Sitting on a park bench!

Happy Birthday, Gotham!

Robo t’s Place of Rage.

You know, I liked this ep. It had all the things a good ep should. It wasn’t boring, yet exceedingly strange plot curveballs weren’t hitting us left and right. This episode was pretty… casual? Like a pair of khakis. This was a khaki episode. Complete with some dick playing golf.
 

the LOST diaries: pt. 4

DAY SEVENTY:
9: 23 a.m. -LOST

Someone finally gave Desmond pants. This morning he was stroking his Jesus beard, staring at Claire putting Aaron to sleep. At first I thought he was acting all strange and pedophiley (that’s right, pedophiley), but then realized he was contemplating whether to go talk to Claire or not. Probably to ask her why Aaron was so big. He popped up suddenly, looming over Claire and informed her she had a problem with her roof. He offered to fix it, but she whined that she had just put Big Aaron to sleep. But Desmond kept insisting, and then Charlie showed up.

“Whatcha doin, brotha?” Charlie asked, clearly threatened that the crazy hatch guy, what with his Jesus resemblance and his shirt opened slightly to expose his chest fro no apparent reason, was trying to seduce his woman. I smirked when Claire kept repeatedly rolling her eyes, playing it off as if she was trying to find the problem with her roof.

“I was just offering to fix this roof here,” Desmond explained, fully aware that this conversation was growing awkward quick, and perhaps silently praying that Charlie wouldn’t find a double meaning in what he just said.

Of course, he didn’t. “Roof? Fine. If there’s a problem, I’ll fix it. I’m quite handy.” He went on a bit more about helping Eko build the church. Or the sad bit of poles sticking out of the ground that he considers a “church”. He then pounded his chest and said, “Chuck Chuck fix roof.” …Okay, he didn’t say that. …I did. And as much as I would’ve loved to see a Charlie-Desmond throw down, one that we all know would ultimately result in Desmond totally kicking Charlie’s arse, Desmond backed off. I glanced at the way Desmond walked. It wasn’t as girly as Charlie’s walk, but the way he swings his arms is a bit robotic. I’d have to keep an eye on that. Desmond’s arms… I still hate him.

He turned back to me and said, “I’d watch out for ya head, brotha.” What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is that a threat? Bring it on! …Charlie’s got my back!

1:42 p.m. –LOST

I decided to see how life was going in the zooniverse. Eh, peachy, I guess. I don’t really know how to describe how life is in a cage. …Confined? I arrived just as Prickett and some other Others arrived to pick up Kate and Sawyer for work. Sort of like carpooling. E          xcept extremely not.

Prickett had a bandage on his nose and muttered, “Time for work,” as he opened Sawyer’s cage.

“Sound a little stuffy there, Chinatown. You need to blow your nose?” Sawyer grinned. I had to stifle my laughter at the absolute absurdity of his comment. Chinatown? What? Some stupid banter followed, interrupted by Prickett’s walkie-talkie. Prickett stepped to the side and listened to the incoherent Peanuts voice on the other line. 

“Whah whah wuh wah.”

“What?” Prickett asked, sounding concerned. “Where are they?”

Suddenly, Benry, Juliet and yet some more Others came running through the zooniverse, carrying that Bitchy Chick that Sun had so admirably shot. Prickett nearly cried at the sight of her and ran off with them, and after everyone left, Kate asked, “What happened?”

“We happened,” Sawyer chuckled. “Been on this rock long enough to realize they ain't in the business of shooting each other. We did it. Our team.” I was on Sawyer’s side with this one. Yeah, point for us! Can’t wait till he finds out who pulled the trigger.

“You smiling?” Kate asked indignantly.

“Damn right I'm smiling. Because we just got our ticket out of here.”

…Now we were confused. I really don’t get Sawyer’s logic. You know, for a con man, he’s not that bright. He began to work the Fish Treat Machine, and he had a manic look in his eye. I began to regret teaching him how to work that thing. Actually, maybe not. Whatever he was up to, he was bound to get hurt in the process, so maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Kate asked him what he was doing.

“Shush up, I'm thinking,” he answered. I leaned forward in anticipation. THAT can’t be good. “You know that chick they brought in on the stretcher -- that's broken nose man's girl.” Sawyer went on a loud rampage and I noticed the camera blinking in the corner of the cage. I bet anything there was a mic in here. Gandalf, Sawyer’s an idiot. Especially when he explained his plan. “There's juice pumping into this box from somewhere.” He pointed to a puddle that had formed from the drain in his cage. “Next time someone comes to pull me out, I'm going to wait until they step in my little swimming hole, and I grab them. Zap! They fall back from the shock -- I snag the keys. Bet the bears never thought of that.”

“You're both going to get electrocuted,” Kate stated at him in annoyed disbelief.

“Yeah, I felt the jolt. I can take it.” Oh, can you? “The other guy -- he ain't going to be ready for it. What, you think I'm crazy?”

“No, I'm actually impressed.” No, NO! Don’t encourage him! His logic is worse than Sayid’s!

“Well, wipe the stars out of eyes, sweetheart -- because we're going to do this.” Oh, I had to stick around for this. Not long afterward, Benry showed up, creepily stalking towards Sawyer’s cage. He stopped about a foot behind the puddle.

“What do you weigh?” he asked creepily.

“180, give or take,” Sawyer replied.

Ben stood just before the puddle. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-two,” Sawyer answered, clearly aware that we all knew he was lying. I’d guess thirty-five.

“Don't lie.”

Sawyer sighed. “Thirty-five.” Hey, wouldn’t you know it. Benry stepped into the puddle and began to open the cage, Sawyer grabbed his arm and started to kick the knife and spoon button with his bare foot. …Bare foot? Where are his shoes? Where are his socks? Those EVIL BASTARDS! He continued to kick, but nothing was happening. “What did you do?” he growled.

“We turned it off,” Ben answered calmly before punching Sawyer in the face and continuing to beat him with what looked like a car antenna. Ouch. Awesome, but ouch. Guess that puts us back a point. So where does that put us? Negative twenty three? Then Ben kicked Sawyer in the face, knocking him out. Very ouch, very sweet. Who knew Henry had it in him? Ben and two other guys dragged Sawyer out of the cage and left Kate alone to do that shivering whimper. With the entertainment gone, I decided to follow them to a dark room. Ben, Mr. Friendly, and two other guys were all watching Sawyer, who was strapped to a table.

Sawyer slowly came to and groggily asked, “Where am I?” When no one bothered to answer his question, he realized where he was and the situation he was in. “What the hell are you doing to me? Let me up!”

One of the other guys, Jason, walked over to Sawyer and offered him a wooden stick.

“Bite down on this please,” he said robotically.

Sawyer, forever the brave poet, replied, “You bite down on it.”

Jason grabbed his head and shoved the thing in his mouth and Ben reminded him it was for the pain. Sawyer’s eyes widened at this, but were no where near as large as when they bulged when he spotted the other other, Matthew, tapping a giant syringe and needle.

Ben shuddered, “God, I hate needles.”

“No! What are you doing?!” Sawyer yelled.

Matthew was holding Sawyer down and had the needle poised over his heart. …You know, I hate needles too, especially when they’re that big, but I couldn’t help but think that this felt all too familiar. Jason was next to Matthew and grabbed his wrist and reminded him, “No, you have to go through the sternum.” He tapped the spot on Sawyer’s chest, and I was really close to getting why this was jogging memories. “The sternum, like in the movie.”

My jaw nearly dropped and I had to choke back a gasp. LIKE IN THE MOVIE? No! Yes! NO! They were doing a Pulp Fiction on Sawyer and he wasn’t even O-Ding on anything! This was… brilliant! This was horrible! I wondered if he’d flip out and turn into Uma Thurman! Matthew was counting down the seconds as he prepared to stab Sawyer’s sternum with the needle, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I popped back to the beach, and, in my frightened haste, ended up knee deep in ocean water. I didn’t have long enough to consider my surroundings, since a golf ball suddenly struck my head.

“GAH! SWEET DESMOND! OH MY- GAH!” I collapsed back into the water.

“Hey!” It was that dick, Pablo. He was hitting balls into the water. …Who the hell does that? “Get out of the way!” I immediately started to curse at him and he started threatening me. Bitch, it was on. And if Desmond didn’t show up, I would’ve taken one of those golf clubs and shoved it right up his-

“Don’t mind me, brotha,” he said hesitantly, eyeing us and probably wondering if he’d have to use one of his magic tricks to separate us if it got out of hand. “I’m just gonna take one of your clubs. Hurley said it would be alright.”

Paulo continued to glare at me before saying, “Hurley, huh? Does this mean you're off to save the day?”

Desmond chuckled and exchanged a look with me that I took as his accepting to be in our Beat the Shyte out Of Pablo Tag Team. “So, uh, I can take one of these?”

Pablo flexed his muscles as he raised the club and said, “Take the five iron; I never use it. That way when you die in the jungle, doing whatever you're doing, I don't have to go looking for it.”

Desmond held the club and smirked, giving me that look again. “Thanks, mate.” Pablo ignored him and took a shot. Desmond said, “You know, you might want to square your shoulders a bit more.”

Paulo raised an eyebrow and brusquely asked, “You play golf?”

Desmond grinned a crazy, terrifying grin. “I'm Scottish. Cheers.”

While Pablo stared at Desmond walk away, I took that opportunity to whack him in the back with the wedge. I don’t fight fair, never have, and with all these clubs lying around, do you honestly think I wouldn’t use them to my advantage? Pablo drove a hard shot into my chest, but he’s not the strongest, so I beat his shoulder and he lost his guard, so I repeatedly smashed him until he dropped to the ground. Everyone at the beach was watching as I delivered blows to the back of his knees and Desmond placed the five iron he had taken against a log and slowly started walking back towards us. Pablo was screaming and people were running, slowing down as they realized what was going on and then stopping to watch.

“There, there, calm down,” Desmond said, his hands in his pockets and flinching at the appropriate times. Pablo continued to yell in Spanish and I cursed like a sailor with Tourette’s as I began to choke him with a putter.

The only thing that made me stop was hearing someone shriek, “TIBBY!” I looked up. It was Rose.

5: 04 p.m. –LOST

Rose yelled something fierce as she scolded us afterward. She wouldn’t hear what we had to say, and told us that just because Jack was gone didn’t mean we all had to start acting like animals. I mean, who said Jack was in charge, and all that. We had to start governing ourselves and we wouldn’t get very far if we continued to act like children. She was disappointed in us, especially me, and then she yelled at Desmond, saying that she didn’t care if he was new here, if he saw a fight wouldn’t it be smart for him to break it up. The look on Desmond’s face was worth it. Just as I was about to leave, Desmond asked me how my head was. …Eh, we’ve got a temporary truce, but I’m bound to hate him soon enough. I went over to the Pulp Fiction room and found Sawyer still bound, unconscious, and shirtless, but he now had a gauze bandage on his chest. And then a little pathetic and useless bandage that seemed to be there for decorative purposes. …I guess they knocked Sawyer out and decided to decorate him with bandages. Benry came in holding a cage with a little white bunny with the number 8 spray painted on him. Upon seeing this bunny, both Sawyer and I started to freak out, assuming the Others had somehow gotten hold of Bunnicula.

But then Ben started to shake the cage forcefully. “Come on, come on, come on, come on. Let's move it. Let's move it. Let's move it. Hippity-hop. Hippity-hop. Hippity-hop.” The bunny suddenly dropped dead. Wow. It’s easier to kill a bunny then I thought. Ben went on and on about Sawyer having a pacemaker in his heart which would make his heart explode, and that the watch he was wearing would go off as a warning. I dozed off. Kicking arse takes a lot out of you, you know. I wasn’t paying attention because, a) that didn’t make any sense, and 2) I really think the Pulp Fiction geeks were too busy with their bandages to make any big heart surgeries. And besides, I was gone twenty minutes. There was no way they could possibly have put a pacemaker in Sawyer in less than twenty minutes. But of course, Sawyer is an idiot and ate every word of it. Not that Benry doesn’t do a good job of convincing him. And that bunny, what an actor! ...At least, I hope it was acting. I left and wandered the building, stumbling upon an operating room, where Bitchy Chick was being prodded by a flustered Juliet. I walked out of there immediately and wondered where I could find where they were keeping the bunnies. I heard scurrying in a nearby closet and poked my head in. At first, I thought the closet was empty, but one look up revealed a dozen white rabbits hanging on their paws from the ceiling, all seemingly asleep. Everyone started running around and a loud siren went off. All the Bunniculas woke up and looked at me with their beady red eyes and lunged at me. I was lucky that the siren was on, because otherwise someone’s might’ve wondered what all that clattering and yelling coming from the Bunnicula-infested storage closet was. I staggered out of there minutes later, hoping I wouldn’t turn into some zombie, and walked into another… I guess the waiting room for the surgery room, I dunno, but there was an x-ray of a huge tapeworm on the wall. Or someone’s spine.  Jack was led by Juliet and some Others with a potato sack on his head. Nice look for him. Makes him look buff. No, seriously. He came in and immediately started to scrub up, as he was informed that he would be dealing with the impossible task of saving someone with a gunshot to the abdomen. He glanced at the x-rays but was hastily dragged out of there and into the operating room. No one was happy to see him, and he didn’t want to be there, but c’mon, people, we’re professionals. After being informed that Prickett was actually Bitchy Chick’s husband (what a GREAT couple!), Prickett was dragged out of the room and Jack unsuccessfully tried to save Chick’s life. Which raises the question, who HAS he saved on this island? He has a one out of ten success rate, you know. Maybe when he was graduating from med school a year faster than everyone, he missed some vital information on keeping your patients alive. …Yes, that makes sense.

For once, Jack didn’t freak out or anything. He just solemnly stated, “Time of death…” he glanced around the room for a clock, but didn’t find one. Oh, this is COMPLETELY throwing off his groove! “…she's gone.”

We heard and saw Prickett banging on the glass window that oversaw the operations and yelling, “They did this! They did this!” Of course, the sound was muffled and it looked kind of funny. I mean, he was obviously heartbroken and destroyed, but it DID look laughable. Yes, I know I’m going to Monkey Hell. Prickett ran out in a state of rage. I like this guy. I dunno, I just like this Chinatown, I guess. Mr. Friendly, who was also in the room, ran after him. And so did I. Juliet was distraught, Jack was confused, Colleen was dead, and Ben was leering at them all from behind the window. Wherever Prickett was heading, this was bound to be good. And, alas, we followed him to the zooniverse, where he dragged Sawyer out of his cage and immediately started betting the shyte out of him. For no apparent reason. It was awesome. I would’ve liked it a whole lot better had he not been demanding Kate to answer whether she loved Sawyer or not after every punch, but you can’t always get what you want. No, you cahn’t always git what you wah-ant! I sat atop of the Fish Treat machine and watched the whole proceedings and hummed that song. It didn’t really harmonize with Kate’s sobs, so I stopped. Eventually Kate gave in and said that yes, she did love Sawyer, but only after Sawyer was beaten to a bloody pulp and dumped back in the cage. I harmonized with Kate’s silent sobs for a while, but then she stopped and looked for the source of the singing trying to imitate the chorus from the Rolling Stones song. I forgot about the mic as well, but luckily I was still in inviso-mode. I no longer had any feeling in my fingertips, but I could still be invisible. Sawyer came to not long afterward and Kate asked him how he was.

“Why did he do that?” she asked.

“Hell if I know. These people ever make any sense to you?” Then Kate actually started to climb to the top of the cage in effort to escape. My question is why she didn’t do this before, and why not at night rather than in the middle of the day. But of course, Kate is one of those “do it now” kind of people that don’t bother thinking about consequences. Or rather, they’re too stupid to realize that there might be consequences, and that those might be negative. Yeah, I used to be one of those. Still am, matter of fact. Sawyer started to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing.

“What does it look like?” she answered. Like something you should’ve done last night, Kate. She was perched on the top of her cage.

“I told you, the time ain't right,” Sawyer whispered.

“You’re the one that said we had to go.”

“Well, that was before...”

“Before what?!” Kate blurted as she continued to climb down. Even though they aren’t aware they’re under surveillance, these two DO realize that someone can hear them, right? “I don't know what they did to you. But I know you're scared enough to lie about it. And that scares me more than anything that they have done to us before.” Blah, blah, blah, Kate! Pull your pansy ass together! Then she jumped down and started to hit the lock on Sawyer’s cage with a rock. I sighed loudly. This is why you THINK these things over! It’s called PLANNING. It started to rain. Most of the time when it rains on this island, something happens. I’ve never been so terrified of rain before in my life, but since we crashed I’m always on high alert.

“I'm not leaving you, Sawyer.” And why the hell not? “I can get it open.”

“No. You're already out. You've got to go. You've got to leave me!” Sawyer barked, suddenly

being noble. Kate stared at him in confusion. Sawyer, suddenly being… SELFLESS? “Run!” he demanded.

Kate started to yell at Sawyer and demanded to know what they did to him when he was gone, and when his watch started to beep she became even more persistent.

“Why didn't you fight back?! Tell me the truth for once in your life!” Yawn. This was getting soap opera-y.

“If you really love me – go,” Sawyer sighed. Yep, definitely soap opera-y.

Kate’s eyes narrowed and she said quietly, “I only said that so he'd stop hitting you.” She walked back to her cage. Of COURSE she loves Sawyer! EVERYONE knows it! She’s even going BACK IN THE CAGE to stay with him longer!

Sawyer saw her and his jaw dropped. “Run! Hurry! What the hell are you doing? KATE! Damn it, Freckles, go. Every man for himself.”

From inside her cage, Kate crossed her arms and said, “Live together, die alone.” …WHAT? Is that their new catch phrase, or something? It doesn’t even make any sense! Why not “live together, die together”, Kate? Take everyone down you! This was ridiculous. I headed back to camp and found a weird tower constructed of random sticks with a golf club attached to the top. …Was this some sort of threat from Pablo? I don’t remember him saying anything about, “Three o’clock. Meet me at the golf club tower. Rematch.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised when Hurley walked up to Desmond and asked, “Is that- art?”

“Nope,” Desmond replied. “Just an experiment.”

They stared at it for a second. “Okay. …You want some fruit salad?”

Desmond said he wasn’t hungry and Hurley began to leave, but Des stopped him. “You might want to wait a minute.”

“Why’s that?”

“So I can have some banana,” I said, grabbing a banana chunk out of the bowl. He gave me a look, but smirked at my face once I popped the banana in my mouth.

“What?” he asked.

“These aren’t DHARMA bananas, are they?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“It tastes like shoe.”

It suddenly began to pour. I jumped behind Hurley. Big Aaron started to cry because water was getting into their tent. Charlie ran over and was overall extremely useless in helping Claire calm Aaron. If anything, he made matters over. He also looked like he scrubbed his face raw and then smeared bacon all over his face, but I’ll save that for another time. He did look at Desmond like he just had an epiphany. Damn. Once again, Desmond gets all the recognition. …WHATEVER. I guess there’s plenty more Pablo bones to break for occasions like this.

-Tibby T

A/N: Here’s a story you might like. I recently found out that my crazy writing teacher (no one EVER take a writing course if you like the process of writing, folks, it’ll destroy you) is a fan of LOST. We were talking about it, and she asked me who my favorite character was. It changes from time to time, and I told her right now it was Desmond. She was a bit surprised and asked why. I told her that he was crazy, and of all the people on the show, he’s the only one on the island that had basically ended up there because he was an idiot. Gotta love Desmond. My writing instructor, not so much. “I don’t like Desmond,” she said. She then mentioned something about kleptomaniacs. …What? She went on a bit more, and then said suddenly and very harshly, “I don’t like Desmond.” She repeated it a few times. I took the beating, it’s not the first time something I liked has been so harshly criticized. I was just alarmed for my own safety at this point. I asked her if she wanted to get a drink of water or take a walk, but she didn’t get the joke, and simply walked off muttering things about Desmond as she went. …I’m a bit afraid to go back there.

Currently Listening Big Come Up By Black Keys see related

So... I added a new name to the List. Well, he's been there, but he's moved up now that he's been naked on LOST. Yeah, go Desmond! Of course, I did notice something funny about his knees. Because... Well, there's no justifiable excuse for me noticing a man's knees, is there? But I did. And here's what I discovered. They look creepy.

the LOST diaries: pt. 3

DAY SIXTY- NINE:
3: 16 p.m. –LOST

I nearly collapsed in relief when I got back to the beach and saw Claire, Charlie, and everyone else bustling about by their tents. But, of course, I thought too soon.

“When did John get back? And what's he doing? Where's he been? Where's everyone else? Don't you think you should go find out?” Claire’s voice rang beside me. Locke had just stumbled out of the jungle and was now hacking at some tarp with his knife.

I had turned to tell Claire to shut up, she was ruining my moment, and to find out all these things for herself when I spotted a baffled Charlie standing next to her. “Good Gandalf,” I said. “Charlie… What’s with your HAIR?” He was sporting the beginning of a mullet, except the party in the back was really partying, as it was flared up and looked like it wanted to leap from his head.

“Yes, Charlie,” Claire began, “I wish you’d let me cut it, it looks awful, you look ridiculous, and you’re not fooling anyone with-“

“John!” Charlie called, running over to Locke and following him, leaving me alone with Claire, which, oh no he didn’t, so I quickly ran after him. We found Locke by the sad church structure. It’s just the frame. And I bet it’ll be just the frame for a long time.

“So you’re gone for a whole day after a massive hatch detonation -- you don't call, you don't write?” Charlie said in a sadistically surly tone. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Locke was acting funny. He was moving his mouth as if he wanted to speak, but he couldn’t. “What, you can't speak John? You're mute?” Locke nodded. The way his eyes were bugging out were kind of creeping me out. “I am sorry about that. So where are Eko and Desmond? Are they off being mute and building structures, as well?”

You know, I don’t know who’s more of a whiny bitch. Kate or Charlie. Locke was acting as if he couldn’t breathe. He began to play charades. “You need to speak?” Charlie asked. “To me? What do you want to--?” Locke grabbed a handful of sand. “Sand? You need to speak to the sand?” Locke pointed at the jungle. “Trees? Yeah, I've heard they're wonderful conversationalists.”

“Good Gandalf, Charlie, shut up!” I spat. “Isn’t it obvious? He needs to talk to the island.”

Charlie grumpily crossed his arms and whined, “Oh, right, the island. You know, I would’ve gotten it if you didn’t so rudely interrupt.”

“Get a hair cut.”

Back at the beach, I supplied Locke with a marker and a pad of paper. He had scribbled- I NEED UR HELP and showed it to Charlie.

“I need your help? Since when do you need my help?” he sneered.

I NEED U 2 STAND GUARD.

“I need you to stand guard? Oh yeah, so you can talk to the island. Dangerous. Well, amusing as the mute game invariably is, you are aware, John, that I detest you, aren't you? You do remember repeatedly punching me in the face and accusing me of using heroin when I was not.”

I grabbed the pad from Locke and scribbled- I NEED U 2 STOP BEING AN ASS. Charlie frowned and was about to speak when Locke scribbled- @ THE SWEAT LODGE and shoved it in his face.

“What the sodding hell is a sweat lodge?” Charlie asked. Locke, of course, didn’t answer and began to build a little hut. I gathered that a sweat lodge is a lodge that makes you sweat. And since Charlie and I were fine with not sweating and not being in a small hut with a sweaty Locke, we sat and watched him.

“I bet Eko’s blind,” I said to Charlie.

“What?” he asked as he scribbled in the sand with a twig.

“I bet Eko’s blind. You know, since the hatch thing. You were deaf, Locke’s mute, I bet Eko won’t be able to see.”

“And how’d you get to that conclusion?”

“Speak no evil, see no evil, hear no evil.”

“…That’s stupid.”

“…You’re stupid.”

“What about Desmond, then?”

“Desmond doesn’t count. He has no evil.”

“Pfft. So what’s that mean?”

“I dunno. He’ll be naked?” Charlie smirked and gave me a look. “What? I mean, I don’t hope he’s naked. I don’t want to see him naked. I haven’t been thinking about him being naked. …That would suck if he’s naked.”

“Would it?” he had a broad grin on his face, making him look like the crazy Englishman he is.

“…Hey, look what Locke’s doing.”

Locke was stirring some of that Jacob’s Ladder stuff, the same stuff he’d given Boone to make him think he was making out with his sister. Oh, I can’t wait to see Locke completely bollixed on this. Charlie seemed to recognize it’s purpose as well, and got all up in Locke’s face about it.

“What's that? You're not taking drugs are you, John? I only ask because of the strict zero tolerance policy you've enacted, and I wouldn't want you to have to start punching yourself in the face,” he said. Locke flashed him the STOP BEING AN ASS note. “Yeah, I know, I get it. You're going to go in your little magic hut and I'm going to stand out here in case you devolve into a monkey.” …NICE.

We sat outside and Charlie continued to tease me about Desmond, and I teased him about his hair. Over his shoulder, I spotted a still very cute and still very dead Boone crawl into the hut. Seeing him, I try to remember why I was never really drawn to him. I mean, I say he’s cute, but more in a cuddly kitten kind of way. Maybe it’s because his IQ isn’t that far from a kitten in the first place. Aw, wittle Boone! Shortly after Locke leaped from the tent and had an absolutely terrified look on his face. Yeah, it was one of those trips. He slowly regained his cool and pulled out his hunting knife.

“I’m going to save Mr. Eko’s life,” he said.

So we were off, trekking through the jungle. I wondered for a second whether Charlie was taking hold of the dumb sidekick role that Boone had left for hire. He might without knowing, but I’ll have to admit I don’t think he could quite fill Boone’s shoes. Boone cleaned up better and he didn’t ask a lot of questions. Matter of fact, Boone didn’t ask a lot of things. Aw, wittle Boone! We found a cross in one of the bushes.

“Eko’s cross,” Charlie dully observed.

“He was dragged this way,” Locke noted.

“Dragged? By what?”

“By a polar bear.”

“There was a slight pause, followed by my loud and confused, “WHAT?”

“Sawyer killed the polar bear,” Charlie said, apparently not taking in the fact that POLAR BEARS on a TROPICAL ISLAND DRAGGED a grown man through the jungle. Good Gandalf, what a trip indeed!

“He killed a polar bear,” Locke answered. Oh, for Helm’s sake, this is ridiculous. What on Middle Earth are we DOING? Drunkenly stumbling around in the jungle, sounds like, and I could do enough of that on the beach, thank you very much. Locke told Charlie to go back when we stumbled on a pool of blood, but Charlie, suddenly not being a coward and suddenly wanting to be in Locke’s company, just said he’d take his chances. We continued to walk and came across the remains of the hatch, which was just a large smoking crater in the ground.

“Is that the hatch?” Charlie asked, a little shaken up.

“What's left of it,” Locke answered.

“What happened?”

“Looks like it imploded.”

“Looks like you should be dead,” I said to Locke. He gave a slight nod and shrug. “Locke, listen. Maybe Eko… reasonably died in this ‘implosion’. Or maybe he’s staggering around dying somewhere, and there’s no polar bear involved in this at all.”

“Or maybe he’s blind,” Charlie smirked. Locke merely shrugged off my suggestion and we continued walking. We came across a dead boar with huge slash marks on it’s side. “What’s that?” Charlie asked.

“You should know, Charlie, you’ve been chased by them enough,” I said.

“It's an active kill,” Locke said, peering over the body. “Meaning that whatever was eating this is going to be back for more.”

Charlie gulped. “If you want to say polar bear you can just say it.”

There was a cotton ball stuck to a nearby branch that Locke picked up. I snorted at the sight of it. You have to be kidding, right? “Alright, polar bear,” Locke answered. There was a loud growling sound that echoed through the jungle, and none of us took any disregarded Locke’s suggestion to run. Well, I guess I was the only one that really took his advice. I was hauling arse, but Locke seemed to be jogging me and Charlie was positively prancing behind him. What was wrong with them? Certainly a POLAR BEAR could drag them off to. I stopped and they did as well, and we heard rustling in the bushes around us. Locke threw his knife at the source of the rustling, and Hurley came out of the bushes with a knife in his canteen, which he had used to shield his face. 

“Dude,” he gulped. He joined us as we walked and explained everything that had happened to Michael, Sawyer, Kate, and Jack. Locke told him he should go back and tell everyone at the beach. “Wait, where are you guys going?”

“The island told Locke he has to save Eko,” Charlie sighed and rolled his eyes. Of course, Charlie’s all for following Locke all day to save Eko from POLAR BEARS, but in front of Hurley he had to play the “I’m not Locke’s bitch” card.

“Save him from what?” Hurley asked.  

“Well, apparently, a bear's got him. It's just made an active kill. You may want to hustle.”

This made Hurley get more of a “I Just Pissed My Pants” look than nearly being decapitated by Locke. “Bear? What bear?”

We ignored him and continued to walk. We found another cotton ball, and Charlie said the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard him say during my whole sixty-nine days on this island.

“You know, when I used to get high, I'd watch nature programs on the Beeb. Polar bears are meant to be quite clever. Very clever. They're like the Einsteins of the bear community.”

Locke didn’t bother to respond, and I just stared at him for a second. I opened my mouth but thought better of it, and left. I tried to find Hurley. A little bit ahead of me, I heard him call, “Bear? Is that you? Who's there?”

I heard a low whisper that made my heart leap. “You alone, brother?” the all too familiar Scottish accent growled.  

“Uh, yeah,” Hurley answered. I walked up next to Hurley just in time to see a naked caveman come out from the bushes. Wait. That’s not a naked caveman. That’s-

“Desmond?” I asked. …Wow. I had been joking about thinking about Desmond before, so this was a… pleasant surprise.

Hurley was far from pleased. He immediately started to freak out and waved his arms around.  “Whoa! Dude! I'm not alone,” he said.

That was true, and I could tell Desmond didn’t like me being there. He’s fine with being naked with a bunch of other guys, I guess, since I can vaguely remember something about him doing some jail time, but he’s really quite uncomfortable with flashing a girl, especially if it’s one that he still believes is only twelve, despite the numerous times I’ve told him I’m nearing twenty two. He tried to back up behind the bush, stumbled, and fell right on his bare arse, giving Hurley and I… quite the eyeful. Hurley looked horrified.

“Oh, Des, don’t even bother acting the gentleman,” I said, offering a hand to help him up. He took it, and I realized that just seconds before he had been using his hands to cover himself… Hurley looked disgusted as I wiped my hand on my pants when Desmond wasn’t looking.

“Beach camp's right over there. Can you get me some clothes?” Desmond asked Hurley.

“What happened to yours?” Hurley whined.

“I woke up in the jungle like this,” Desmond slowly said after thinking for a second.

“So, like, the hatch blew off your underwear?” Hurley asked in disbelief. Yes, that’s EXACTLY what happened. Makes the most sense I’ve heard all day.

Desmond had had enough. “Fine, you want to discuss this in great detail right now?” he asked, coming closer to Hurley, his arms coming up in a threatening matter. “Let's do it.”

I grabbed Desmond’s arm and said, “Wait, Desmond. You’re… magnificent,” Desmond gave me a funny look. “…Let us paint you. Hurley, get the canvas.”

Hurley pulled a piss yellow tie-dye shirt out of his bag. “How do you feel about tie-die?” Desmond snatched the shirt and, for no reason, at all, brought the shirt all the way down to his crotch to inspect it, and my eyes followed the shirt as well. I couldn’t help it. It was an Eye Catcha. After drifting for a moment, my eyes fell on Desmond’s scrawny legs and knees.

“What’s with your knees?” I asked. Desmond must’ve been sensitive about his legs, so he put the shirt on. Unfortunately, Desmond’s a fairly tall man, so the oversized shirt fell just above his knees like a really crappy hippie dress. We started to walk toward the beach. Desmond began to tell Hurley about the hatch and why it exploded. Sorry, imploded.

“So, when you say ‘turn the key’ you mean like key, key?” Hurley asked. I don’t know why Desmond was even wasting his time. Hurley doesn’t even get the concept of what a key is.

“It was a failsafe key,” Desmond explained.

“That seems kind of convenient,” Hurley said.

“I'm sorry?”

“I'm just saying, if you had this magic key the whole time why didn't you, like, use it?”

“I didn't know what would happen.”

“So what did happen?”

“The failsafe key must have detonated the electromagnetic anomaly -- made the hatch implode.” I giggle every time he says “electromagnetic anomaly”. It’s an obvious tongue twister for the poor guy, and every time he says it it’s a different variation of the same word, like he’s making it up as he goes along.

“You didn't implode,” Hurley noticed.

“No.”

“You're not going to, like, turn into the Hulk, or something,” Hurley said, a slightly worried look on his face. Desmond chuckled. Well, it’s not really a chuckle as it is a low, mad giggle. “So is that what made the blender noise? And the sky turn purple?”

“I'm afraid I missed that, brotha.”

“Right, you were failsafing. Well, FYI, the whole island vibrated. And Kate and Jack and Sawyer saw it, too, right before they got bags pulled over their heads.” Hurley said that last part resentfully. Like, BAGS, man. Those damn BAGS.

“Don't worry,” Desmond sighed. “Locke's going to go after them. He said so in his speech.”

“What? What speech? All he said was he was going to go save Eko and kill bears.”

Desmond looked dazed for a moment. “Right. Right, of course. I'm sorry. I'm just a bit shook up.”

I didn’t like that. That put me on edge, but I don’t know why. I tried to shake off the feeling and said, “I don’t get it. What happened to you?” Desmond didn’t answer, so I said, “It’s just… weird. I don’t see how the implosion would’ve ripped your clothes completely off and not leave a scratch on you.”

“But I do have a few scratches on me, brotha,” he replied.

“You should be dead.”

We were nearing camp and we dropped the subject. Everyone at the beach stared out of the corners of their eyes at Desmond, and I distinctly heard some prick named Paulo say, “Great. The fat guy brought one of his stoner friends to the beach.”

I turned to ask this Paulo guy who the hell he thought he was, IMPORTANT?, when I spotted Steve, who had a little coconut bowl in one of his hands, the same one Locke was stirring his Jacob’s Ladder stuff in earlier.

“Hey, Steve-o,” I said, eyeing the bowl.

“Wazzup, Tibby Tat?” Steve giggled. Yeah, he’d taken some of the Ladder.

“Where’d you get that?”

“I found this awesome hut by the church,” Steve began. “You won’t BELIEVE who I saw there!”

“Boone?”

“No! Scott! Remember Scott?” Oh, yeah. Rest in peace, Scott, you poor bastard. “Anyway, he told me I should take this stuff, and I got back here, and I saw Jesus walking on water!”

He pointed at Desmond. Desmond threw a rock into the water, and stared into the sea for a second. Then he ran on top of the water, fetched his rock, came back, and threw it again. …Okay… Locke and Charlie came out of the jungle dragging Eko, and everyone crowded around him and immediately started to ask questions. It was really annoying.

Long story short, Locke told everyone to shut up and said, “I'm going to find our friends. I don't know how yet, but I will. We're going to find them. All of them. And then we're going to bring them home. But first things first, we've got to look out for Mr. Eko. So, Paulo and Nikki, bring towels and water. Claire, we've got to clean him up so bring all the first aid supplies.”

I was standing next to Hurley, who the entire time was staring at Desmond. Charlie, of course, had to point out the obvious. “Not a bad speech.”

Actually, it was a bad speech. That was five short sentences followed by orders to people I don’t know. Locke has had better days. Hurley continued to stare, causing Charlie to ask what the hell he was looking at.

“I just got hit with, you know, déjà vu,” he answered.

Charlie looked from Hurley to Desmond and back to Hurley, and I know exactly what he was thinking. …Can someone give him pants? “Okay. Well, when that wears off can you get bandages from the kitchen?”

He left, and I was furious. I walked right up to Hurley and smacked him. “Snap out of it,” I snarled.

“Hey! What?” he whined.

“DON’T tell me you’re falling for Desmond’s magic tricks. He doesn’t have any!”

“But what about Locke-“

“Are you kidding? Locke’s speech? Every time he talks it’s a goddamned speech!”

Hurley let this sink in and nodded. “But what about-“

“Listen, Desmond doesn’t have any powers. He’s not gifted or anything. He’s not allowed.”

“Says who?” Hurley asked. He grinned at me. “Are you jealous?”

If steam could rise out of my ears, it would. “Listen, you fat…FUCK!” I screeched. People were staring, and Claire covered Aaron’s ears. I lowered my voice and hissed, “There’s no way I’m letting that git take away my thunder. It’s all I’ve got.”

But the fat thing was too much for Hurley, and he walked away before I could apologize. I glanced back at Desmond, who continued to throw rocks into the ocean. Damn. I should’ve known we had too much in common.

(A/N: …Yes. Um… Editor’s in a bit of a… coma, really. He played LOST shots this ep (taking a shot whenever Sawyer says a nickname, Hurley says dude, Charlie says bloody or sodding, and when Desmond says brotha) and isn’t up to high spirits. He also has a creepy man-crush on Desmond. Probably a result from the drinking game. …Bloody idiot.)

Currently Listening Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned By The Prodigy see related

Never Said The Sunshine State Doesn't Have It's Perks

Me and a friend went to the beach a few weeks ago. We couldn't hold in our excitement, we had to let everyone know!

Robo t’s Place of Rage.
Eh. This ep wasn’t as bad as last week, since it wasn’t all ass-shots of Kate’s… arse. We got to see some people that WEREN’T Desmond, Hurley, or Charlie. Sun shot someone, that was cool. But still, these episode titles are ticking me off. Honestly, “The Glass Ballerina”? There was only a glass ballerina in the first five seconds of the episode! I mean, I’m sure there was some symbolism represented throughout, but like anyone noticed that! This is worse than last season’s “?” episode. And we’re not even getting into last week’s “A Tale of Two Cities”, which had nothing to do with anything. Ah, well. It was nice to see Jack’s reaction to Boston winning the World Series. I’ve been waiting for that for a long time.

the LOST diaries: pt. 2

DAY SIXTY- EIGHT:
12: 04 p.m. –LOST

I popped back to the beach and looked around. I was a bit dismayed to find out it was just the same as I had left it. The camp was deserted and lacked all… life. I sighed and headed back to Othersville. I began walking back, because I wanted to waste as much time as I could before I got there. But I heard leaves rustling and an engine running and turned around to see Bean driving THESHIZZ into the clearing.

“Wazzup?” she called as she jumped out, sliding a hand over the hood, which was now a vibrant purple. “Like the color?”

“Bitchin’,” I replied, starting to walk off.

“So where you off to?” she asked, following me.

“Back to the Others’ place, I guess,” I answered.

“Why are you going back there? Why don’t you join Sayid and Jin on the boat?”

“To do what? They’re on a boat. The last thing interesting I heard from them was that they saw a giant stone foot.”

“That’s interesting enough, isn’t it?”

“Not if you’ve judged at the Giant Stone Foot Festival in Glasgow three years in a row. Besides, Sun is pregnant. I don’t want to be on a boat with a pregnant woman!”

“You don’t have to be on the boat. You could wait at the dock,” she said, pulling a little silver remote out of her pocket. “And I’m going to give you this.”

“What’s-“ I began when Bean pushed a blue button and I felt like I had just received an electrical shock and then doused with ice water.  “Gah! What is that?” Out of her pants came yet another item, a pocket mirror. She handed it to me and I saw my shocked expression, complete with the frizzled hair on my head. “So that WAS you that made me invisible before.”

“Well, who else? But I forgot to give you this. If you press that blue button, you’ll go from visible to invisible.”

“Is it going to hurt every time I do it?”

“Yes. Very much. And it’s still a bit glitchy.”  

“Glitchy? How?”

“It’s just that sometimes the button won’t work, and then it’ll blink in a rapid succession…”

“Rapid succession? What does that mean?” She pushed the button several times and I got that sensation again. I looked at her. “I don’t-“ I dropped the mirror and I started to twitch as I got the feeling that I was being struck by lightning repeatedly in a blizzard. At my feet, the mirror showed me disappearing and popping back up again, each time with a new look of displeasure on my face.

“Well, that’s that,” Bean smiled and tossed me the remote. I was invisible at this point, so it hit me in the face. “I’m going to see if I can get any scraps from that hatch explosion of yours. See you around.” She got back in THESHIZZ and drove off. I watched her go, looked down at the remote in my hand, and collapsed.

8: 08 p.m. –LOST

I popped over to see if I could steal one of Sawyer’s fish treats and keep it as a pet. Or snack. Or part-time pet, part-time snack. I planned on naming it DHARMA. Or GREG. But when I got to the zooniverse, they were gone. I spotted a few Others walking down a path and decided to follow them. They stopped in a large area where a bunch of people seemed to be doing meaningless tasks to the dirt ground. Like dragging a pick-axe through the dirt or hitting the ground repeatedly with a shovel. Wow. I guess these Others have got survival going so well for them that this is how they spend their free time. Or maybe not. Kate and Sawyer were being instructed by some guy. Wait… I knew this guy. Pisset! This was the one I had possessed when I went to Browntown!

“Alright, here's the jig -- see these rocks, here? That's where you two come in,” Pickett began. Pointing to Kate, he said, “You're going to chop them loose.” To Sawyer, “And you're going to haul them out of here.”

Kate put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You expect me to work in this dress?” Aw, AGAIN WITH THE DRESS!

“Well, it's up to you? You can take it off if you want,” Prickett smirked.

Sawyer took this moment to goggle at Kate with a weird dreamy look on his face. It was dreamy, all right, but definitely not an innocent one. Kate gave him a dirty look and he snapped out of it, turning to Prickett and saying in a completely fake accusatory tone, “How dare you?” Yeah, Sawyer’s not funny anymore. Just really annoying. And stupid. Prickett explained the rest of the rules, and when Kate started to bitch again, shocked Sawyer. No, I don’t mean he verified that Sawyer and Kate were really brother and sister, I mean he took out a stun gun and fried Sawyer’s ass. …Yeah, there’s a lot more where that’s coming from, I could tell. And as much as I would’ve looked forward to Sawyer getting zapped a couple hundred times, I was pretty sure Sayid, Jin, and Sun were at the dock by now. I popped over and sat in the jungle. Sayid was getting off the boat and prancing down the dock, you know, the way soldiers prance when they’re holding particularly large guns. What, it’s not prancing? It looks like prancing to me. He made sure the coast was clear (I’m fairly sure that was a pun, and in that case, it wasn’t intended), and signaled Jin to get off the boat and start bringing the supplies. As Sayid started to pile wood for a fire, I realized I had dropped my invisi-mote. I was standing behind a bush and tried to carefully look for it when I accidentally stepped on it. And, just as I had seen Sawyer do not too long before, I hit the ground twitching. Sayid came through the bushes with his gun drawn. Crap.

“Tibby?” he asked, lowering his gun. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…” Think quick, Tib. “Sleeping?” I answered.

“Did you go with Michael and the others?” he asked, confused.

“Yes!” I said, getting up. “Yes, that’s exactly what I did.”

He stared at me for a second. “…Well? …Where are they?”

“They were… captured?”

“All of them?”

“Only Jack, Kate, and Sawyer. Michael left on a boat with Walt, and Hurley and I were let loose.”

“Hm… Yes, I can see why they left you. Where are they now?”

“No idea,” I answered. Sayid looked through the trees and saw Jin and Sun walking down the dock.

“I think you should hide,” he said, picking up a few sticks and walking away. He didn’t wait for my consent, he just assumed I would stay there. Well, there really was nowhere else to go… Bastard. Thank Gandalf for Sun, though. Maybe the whole being pregnant thing has made her especially aware of her surroundings and actions, since she cornered Sayid as he continued to stack wood.

“We're building quite a large fire,” she observed.

“We need to make sure Jack will see the smoke,” Sayid replied, avoiding eye contact.

“Why are you lying to me, Sayid?”

“And what would you know about lying, Sun?” I was a bit confused by this. …What? What does that statement have to do with anything? Maybe Sayid is trying to distract Sun from his lies, which he indeed confirmed when he asked what she knew about lying, but it seems a bit more like he was programmed to say this. Like this is supposed to have some guilty effect on Sun. 

But she wasn’t buying it. “You're putting our lives in danger,” she answered and began to leave. Like, nice way to introduce the fact that your lives are in danger and WALK AWAY, Sun! Gandalf, you think you know a person.

Sayid decided to use the information his little mole had supplied to him as his own. You know, I would’ve corrected that sentence, but it just gave me something to giggle uncontrollably at. Wait… I am NOT Sayid’s mole! Or his bitch! “I'm fairly certain our friends have been captured. There are tracks all over the dock. They're fresh -- as recent as yesterday.”

“You said this dock was abandoned.”

“That would be part of the lying you mentioned.” Ooh, Sayid thinks he’s so cool with his somewhat sarcastic joke.

Reality dawned on Sun as she said, “You're not building this fire for our people; you're building it for the Others.”

Sayid nodded. “I suspect that when they see the smoke they'll send a scout party to investigate. By then it will be night. When they arrive, I'll ambush them. I'll take two of them hostage, and I'll kill the rest.” Wow, Sayid’s VERY confident, isn’t he? I wonder how he’d do against an army of Orcs. Sun was in with his plan, and he asked her to keep lying to Jin for another twenty minutes. Because after twenty minutes? The shyte hits the fan. They continued to build the fire, and I managed to pull Sayid back into the jungle.

“You DO realize that this plan of yours doesn’t make any sense, right?” I asked him.

“Tibby, everything has been well though out and strategically arranged. When the Others come, I will hide in that tree with my gun and snipe a few of them once they get close. Jin will hide behind them and make sure none of them run off. Then we’ll light the ring of lighter fluid I have surrounded the camp in, and Jin and myself will continue shooting the Others until there is only two left.”

I stared at him for a second, then nodded and put my hand on his shoulder. “You know… Shannon was just a piece of ass.”

“I know,” he breathed. “But she was MY piece of ass.”

“Well… Who’s going to watch the boat?” I asked.

“You might want to consider it. Although I doubt the Others will want a boat.”

“…Right…”

He left and was instantly cornered by Jin, who started to yell at him about, you know, killing us all. He agreed to help Sayid as long as Sun stayed on the boat. Great, I’ve got a bunk buddy. Since she’d probably panic and shoot me if I was invisible, I decided to stick to being in plain sight and quickly thought of a way to make my appearance known. I was in the storage closet. I was racking my brain for ideas when I heard something behind me. I swear, it was a bat. Or a flannel shirt. But it was coming right for me! I screamed and leaped out of the closet and frantically started to roll on the ground as Sun stared at me, holding a frying pan.

“Tibby?”

I looked up at her and smiled. “Hello, Sun.” I stood up and grinned. “Um… yeah.”

“What were you doing in there?” she asked.

I glanced back at the closet door. “Um… sleeping?” She continued to stare. “Well, the thing is,” I explained. “I went in here to get more booze for Desmond, because you know, he was depressed and you took his boat, and I went in that closet and… fell asleep. And low and behold, you’re here when I wake up, innit amazing?’

“…You were sleeping in there for two days?” she asked disbelievingly.

There was a pause. “…I was tired.”

We left it at that. For the next few hours, I drank from a few bottles Desmond had left and Sun would go to the bathroom, make tea, go to the bathroom, make tea, go to the bathroom… After she got out of the bathroom for the eighth time, it was dark and she had refused to put the light on. She was bustling around the stove when we heard it. A loud thud on deck. Some “stealthy” Others.

“Goddamn it,” I hissed. “I told him!”

Sun grabbed a handgun from under a tarp and I went back in the closet. Sun hid and I peered through a crack in the door. Some chick who I instantly disliked entered the galley. Sun came out of hiding with her gun raised.  “I want you to let me off this boat,” she said. I admire her courage.

The woman sneered. “I can't do that.”

“Why not?”

“It's not my decision to make.” We heard loud shuffling above us. “Do you realize there are five of my friends up there?” she asked.

“Lower your voice,” Sun calmly ordered. The woman nodded and started to move toward Sun. “Stop; or I'll shoot.”

The woman smirked. “No you won't, Sun. I know you, Sun-Hwa Kwon. And I know you're not a killer. But despite what you may think, I'm not the enemy. We are not the enemy. But if you shoot me, that's exactly what we'll become.” Yeah, I really didn’t like her. I couldn’t wait till Sun put a cap in this bitch’s ass. Maybe normal Sun wasn’t a killer, and maybe Sun-Hwa Kwon of Seoul, South Korea wasn’t unpredictable and reckless. But we all had a bit of carelessness now that we’ve crashed. And besides, Sun is pregnant. Girl is CRAAAAAZY! The woman again walked toward Sun, and Sun warned her again.

This is when I opened the closet door and hissed, “C’mon, Sun! Shoot this bitch!” The boat engine started to roar, surprising Sun and making her pull the trigger, firing a bullet right into Bitchy Chick in the gut, Shannon-style. “Oh, that bitch is dead,” I said as she collapsed and Sun ran into the closet as Bitchy Chick’s posse started firing at her. Sun stupidly opened the hatch above us without checking if anyone was above us, and got clipped by a bullet as I popped off that boat as quickly as I could. It was chaotic. The boat drove off and Jin was swimming and yelling. At first I had the feeling that he was yelling Sun’s name, but a quick look at the magical subtitles proved different.

“MARCO!” Jin yelled.

“POLO!” Sun called back. They met back up and they hugged in the water and it was sweet and cute but I was freezing.

DAY-SIXTY-NINE:
8: 15 p.m. –LOST

After yelling at Sayid I headed over to Jack’s cell, where Henry, or “Ben”, as he’s called now, or Benry, as I’ll insist on calling him, was having a nice chit chat with Jack. They went on and on with some redundant conversation that didn’t make any sense, and then Benry dropped a bombshell.

“Your flight crashed on September 22nd, 2004. Today is November 29^th,” he began. I was invisible, leaning against the wall not far from Jack. “That means you've been on our island for 69 days. Yes, we do have contact with the outside world, Jack. That's how we know that during those 69 days your fellow Americans re-elected George W. Bush.”

I glanced at Jack and tried to imagine his thoughts. Pfft. Florida again? What happened to that yelling guy? WOO!

“Christopher Reeve has passed away,” he continued. Tragic, yes, but everyone dies eventually, right?

“The Boston Red Sox won the World Series.” NO FUCKING WAY!

Jack chuckled. “If you wanted me to believe this, you probably should have picked somebody else besides the Red Sox.” …The Cubs?

“No, they were down three games to none against the Yankees in the league championship, and then they won eight straight,” Benry explained, sounding a bit confused as to why Jack was so dumbfounded. You ruined his saying!  

Jack just kept shaking his head. “Sure. Sure, of course they did.” The next thing you’re going to tell me is that Johnny Damon’s playing with the Yanks.

There was a cart behind Benry with an old TV on it, one with dials, antennas, the works. He turned it on, and there was a baseball field, and the Sox were… winning, I guess. I don’t know a lot about baseball, but it seemed to have quite the effect on Jack. He nearly threw himself into the glass wall in his astonishment.

“That's home, Jack. Right there, on the other side of that glass,” Benry said. “And if you listen to me -- if you trust me -- if you do what I tell you when the time comes -- I'll take you there. I will take you home.” Eh, I think I’ll pass. A road trip with Crazy Eyes and Creepy Guy is the last thing I could take.

-Tibby T

(A/N: I think I’m slowly getting my groove back. You know, the LOST writers are cheating. They’re using cleavage, ass and chest-shots, nudity, sex, and big make out scenes in hopes that it’ll get the viewers attention. Rather, they’re throwing these things into the script at random intervals so that they make absolutely no sense. Well, here here, LOST writers, you’re not fooling me! …Even though I have been curious as to what Desmond looks like naked all week. Which is incredibly awkward, because I’ve been watching that Gospel of John movie where he plays Jesus, and because he’s a dead ringer for Mr. Christ, I now feel like I want to see what Jesus looks like naked. …DAMN YOU, LOST WRITERS!)

Currently Listening Hell Bent for Leather By Judas Priest see related

I ain't dead yet

Wazzup!!! I'm back! Yeah, I've been through a lot in the past... What, three months? And when I say "been through a lot", I mean a lot of my stuff has been falling apart. My A/C broke down in the hottest month of the summer, my washing machine died out, my dish washer is disfunctioning, and my septic tank backed up. So I've been busy lately.

Oh, yeah. And LOST is back.

But today something slightly comical happened. More awkward, really, but I won't let that bring me down. I was standing by the library and some chick on a bench told me she liked my jacket.
"Where'd you get it?" she asked.
"Eh, I dunno, I've had it since I was a kid, you-"
"Are you bi?"
I glanced at my sleeve, the one with the rainbow stripe down the arm. Bitch. Was she flirting with me? Or just curious? That wasn't the point. I'm tired of people seeing this stupid jacket and assuming I'm gay. I mean, what happened to just liking rainbows? What happened to liking the 70s or Gary Glitter? What happened to child molesters and pedophiles?
"No, but I was as a kid. You know, doing tricks on the street for smack, that sort of stuff. But I cleaned up my act, you know. Changed my ways."
She just stared.
"Yeah..."

the LOST diaries: pt. 1

DAY SIXTY-FIVE:

8: 42 p.m. –LOST

I sat in my spot on the beach, leaning against the crooked QUARANTINE door and nodded off again. I dreamt of Kool-Aid Guy fighting Desmond in the jungle, except Desmond looked like the Hulk. They charged at each other sumo style, and a dark cloud began to glide over them. I opened my eyes and glanced at the dark cloud standing at my feet.

“Hello,” I said to Bean. She had that look on her face. The one that normally ends with us nearly getting killed.

“Afternoon,” she greeted, then got down to business, “Don’t you want to see where Kate, Sawyer, and Jack are?”

“No, not really.” I knew Michael, Hurley, and the Trio of Hellfire had been kidnapped by the Others. Michael had gotten off the island with Walt on a boat, Hurley had been let loose, and the Trio… Well, I could really care less what happened to them.

Bean wasn’t giving up. “Don’t you want to know stuff that no one else will?”

“Yeah,” I said, standing up and clutching my back. That QUARANTINE door works anything but wonders. “But I want to know what happened to Locke, Eko, and Desmond. Not Skack.”

She gave me a quizzical look. “Skack?”

“What? It’s too much work to say all their names at once. YOU think of something better.”

“Um… How about SKJ?”

“What, are they a boy band now?”

“Never mind,” she sighed. “Your FRIENDS… I think I know where you can find them.”

“And where’s that?” I asked.

She pulled a large map out of the back pocket of her cargo pants. She held it out and I grabbed an end of it. Apparently, we should have been rescued by now. At least, if Bean’s map was right, this island should be regarded as its own country. It’s huge. Bean pointed to a tiny star she had drawn by one of the coasts. “Your friends are here,” she said.

I stared at the map, which was a really a large picture of the island. “You took this?”

“Yep,” she answered. “I’ve been catapulted enough times over this island to know where everything is.”

Well… there was nothing going on at the beach. Literally, nothing. It seemed as if everyone had vanished, or didn’t exist at all. And that the only people that did exist at this point and time would be the Others and the Triceptant of Hell’s Love Triangles. Maybe Bean had a point. There was nothing to do here, and as much as I hated Sawyer’s incessant insults and nicknames and Kate’s sheer uselessness, I had to admit I would miss Ol’ Crazy Eyes. “So, let’s say that I might consider going to see what all the fuss is in Othersville. How do you suggest we would get there?”

Twenty minutes later, THESHIZZ lay smoldering in a clearing in the jungle. “Damn,” Bean said. “Guess I shouldn’t play Sudoku while I’m driving, huh?”

“So, what do we do now?” I asked.

“Eh, I’ll have this fixed in a jiffy. Why don’t you have a look around?” I turned to leave, but she grabbed my shoulder. Clawed at it, more like. “DON’T BE SEEN,” she said, and a weird chill came over me, as if the fingers she had digging into my shoulder were releasing ice water into my blood or something. She let go and I walked off through the jungle and stopped when I walked into an even bigger clearing. What made me stop was seeing a small neighbourhood across the way. I mean, there were HOUSES over there. Really nice ones, too. Bean wasn’t following me or anything, so I popped over to one of the houses and stood on a porch. Apparently, the Others lived in Beverly Hills, 4815162342. The houses suddenly began to shake, and I dove into a bush just as a bunch of adults wearing various pretty pastel colors came out of their homes. Among them were Henry, Ethan, and Goodwin. Everyone looked up at the sky, where Oceanic Flight 815 was falling through the air and breaking apart. Hm. I wonder if I could see me from there.

Henry immediately started to give off orders. To Goodwin, he said, “You run and you can make that shore line in an hour.” He turned to Ethan. “Ethan, get up there to that fuselage. There may actually be survivors; and you're one of them. A passenger -- in shock -- come up with an adequate story if they ask. Stay quiet if they don't. Listen, learn, don't get involved. I want lists in 3 days. Go.”

Ethan and Goodwin ran off, and I popped back over to Bean. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “You look a bit shaken up,” she chuckled at her pun. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Yeah, I went a little farther back and we landed a bit off course. Hop in, I’ll drop you off to where Skack is.”

“Wait, drop me off? Where are you going?” I asked.

“You kidding? I’ve got to give this baby a paint job. And besides, those Others are nuts.”

She started THESHIZZ, and we continued to chat. I had grown used to that sinking feeling in my stomach.

“But it was your idea to do this in the first place!” I yelped. We stopped abruptly. The door flew open and I fell out.

“Yeah, but they’re your friends,” Bean said coolly and THESHIZZ disappeared. I slowly stood up. I didn’t like this. I normally didn’t go into unfamiliar territory alone, but here goes. I blinked at my surroundings. Bean had somehow managed to drive inside of a dark and crusty hallway. I walked over to the first door I saw and poked my head through it. There was a table in one corner, and farther back there was a lone metal platform, where Jack was sprawled out and unconscious. I walked into the room as Jack slowly woke up. He slid off the metal platform and looked around. He immediately tried the door that was at the end of the platform, but to an obvious no avail. I realized he didn’t see me. He was slowly going into Crazy Eyes mode, and he couldn’t see me. I looked at the shiny metal table next to me and put my hand over it. There was no reflection at all. I leaned really close to the table, expecting to see a distorted reflection of my face, but nothing. As if my nose wasn’t an inch away from the surface of the table. I looked back at Jack, who looked like he gained a bit of weight in the mere twenty four hours since I last saw him. He just looked bigger. Good Gandalf, what diet do these Others have them on? I KNEW that DHARMA crap was high in calories!

“Jack!” I whispered. Jack tried walking over to the sound of my voice, but walked straight into the glass wall that divided us. There was a loud THUD and I snorted.

“Who’s there?” Jack yelled. I walked over to the glass wall and breathed on it. Jack stared at the mist and the message KCAJ IH I had written. “Who’s there?” Jack demanded again. “Where is everyone? …Dad?”

I left and walked around a bit. I was invisible. No one could see me. Sweet. This could work to my advantage. I walked outside and found what looked like a really crappy zoo. This zooniverse only had two cages, and inside one was a sulky teen all in Depeche Mode that kinda looked like a monkey, and in the other was a large colorful apparatus, where on the ground lay an unconscious Sawyer. Who also appeared to have gained a bit of weight, since his gut seemed to poke out from under his shirt. Gandalf, what did the Others do to these guys? And why where Sawyer and the sulky kid not wearing matching outfits and waiting for someone to come with a bucket of fish? Sawyer woke up and looked around. He spotted the kid in the cage across from him and immediately began to badger him with questions and insults.

“Hey. Where are we? Who the hell are you? Oh, you ain't gonna talk to me? What -- you got more important things to do?”

The kid didn’t respond and Sawyer dropped the subject, suddenly becoming interested with the odd contraption behind him. There was a big red button with a little knife and fork picture on it that came out of a metal box. Sawyer looked around mischievously. I don’t know why, what did he expect was going to happen? Well, the picture was of eating utensils, so obviously man-eating locusts were going to shoot out of the little hole at the bottom and somehow let him escape from the cage. There were levers and all sorts of things sticking out of this box, but Sawyer seemed to only be interested in the button. He pushed it once, and static came out of the speaker, along with a raspy voice saying, “Warning.” Sawyer pushed it again. The voice came on again. He reached for the button for a third time when the sulky kid said, “I wouldn’t do that.”

Sawyer sneered at the kid and said, “If I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.” He kinda was before, but whatever. Low and behold, Sawyer did press the button and the charge of electricity sent him flying backward and he crashed into the bars of the cage.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled.

“Told you,” the kid said. Sawyer appears to be a spectacle in the DHARMA zooniverse. Right where he belongs. I wondered where Kate was. Actually, I could care less where Kate was, but I figured I had to see what she was up to since I had already seen Crazy Eyes and Mr. Jackass.

I walked past a room inside a hallway and heard a familiar voice call, “Hey! Where are my clothes?” I walked into the large locker room and found Kate adjusting a pretty yellow dress and looking around with that funny shaken scared look of hers. Her whole body just trembles, even her eyeballs, and she nearly jumped when Mr. Friendly popped up.

He whistled and looked her up and down and said, “Come on, Kate. He’s waiting.”

…Was Kate going on a date? Ooh, maybe “he” was Jabba the Hutt, and he would keep her prisoner and she’d have to dance. I had to see this. Mr. Friendly and a few other Others escorted Kate to the beach, where a nice little table covered with all sorts of afternoon delights was waiting under a grass roof. It reminded me of when someone wins in Survivor and the prize might be a nice breakfast, and the food and the hut seem absolutely out of place. But, hey, this wasn’t Survivor. And Kate wasn’t going to dance for Jabba either. It was just a nice little brunch. Sitting in a chair was Henry, who cleans up very nicely after having the shit beaten out of him and being kept prisoner in a hatch. Oh, well. I don’t think I’m going to have to spell it out for the Triceptant of the Others’ Bitches, but maybe someone will have to. This right here? This is payback. Sure, the Others started it, but they don’t play very fair. 

But Henry acted the gentleman as he pulled out a chair for Kate as she glared at a pair of handcuffs on the table. Henry followed her gaze and calmly said, “Sorry, I'm going to have to ask you to put those on, Kate.”

Kate tried acting all defiant and replied, “And if I don't?”

Henry poured himself a cup of Joe and said, “Then you don't get any coffee.”

He found Kate’s weakness. She put the cuffs on, and when he instructed her to make them tighter he took a sip from his coffee and she tightened them with a frustrated look on her face.  Then she asked about Sawyer and Jack and Henry made fun of the order she said their names, and I gazed at the biscuits on the platter hungrily. I was standing right beside them the whole time, and luckily the shade of the roof kept the sun away so there wouldn’t be a big shadow next to where I was standing. I stared at the waves behind us and they didn’t look natural to me at all. Like the Others have a giant blue screen on their “beach”. You know, what with all their technology and stuff, I wouldn’t be very surprised. It’s a real dumb investment though.

“Why did you bring me here? Why did you make me put on this dress? Why are you feeding me breakfast?” Kate snapped. Good Gandalf, she asks the DUMBEST questions!

Henry leaned close and said, “I brought you here so you'd look out at the water and feel comforted -- comforted that your friends were looking out at the same ocean. I gave you the dress so that you'd feel like a lady. And I wanted you to eat your food with a real live fork and feel civilized. I did all those things so that you'd have something nice to hold on to. Because, Kate, the next two weeks are going to be very unpleasant.”

“Yeah, bee-yotch,” I said, reaching for a biscuit. “Payback.” I got the hell out of there and ran towards the water and ran through the blue screen. Or at least I would’ve ran through the blue screen if there was one there. I just kept running and realized that the Others were chasing the floating biscuit hovering toward the waves.

“Don’t let it escape!” Mr. Friendly barked. “I just baked those this morning!”

I quickly popped out of there and back to the zooniverse, where an alarm was blaring: “SUBJECT ESCAPE, SUBJECT ESCAPE”.

“Oh My Gandalf, they’re on high alert for a biscuit!” I screeched as the sulky kid ran past me. I darted back to the only place where I knew no one would look- Sawyer’s cage. He had managed to escape with the sulky kid, but not for very long. Mr. Friendly, whose name I think is Tom, but I’ll continue calling him Mr. Friendly because it’s ironic, dragged Sawyer back into the cage as I stashed my biscuit. Once Sawyer was in, Mr. Friendly brought out the bloody teen and shoved him against the bars.

“Say it, Karl,” he growled.

“I'm sorry. Sorry, I involved you in my break out attempt,” Karl whined. They left, and Sawyer stared after them.

“Nice to not see ya, Houdini,” Sawyer smirked.

I shuffled at the end of the cage. “How’d you know it was me?” I whispered.

“You reek of smoke and Bourbon, kid,” he answered. “Now give me that biscuit.”

“You kidding?” I replied. “I went through Hell and back for this, no way I’m giving this up. Try to work that contraption of yours, there’s bound to be something edible inside.” He stared at the floating biscuit as it slowly disappeared and glared back at the machine.

“I don’t even know how to work this damn thing,” Sawyer snarled. I stood next to him. Yes, the many levers did make it seem overwhelming, but there had to be a way to make it work.

“Oh, I see,” I said. “Put something on that lever there, press the button, then throw something at that one,” I pointed to another lever. “The food or whatever’s in there should come out of that hole.”

Sawyer studied the contraption and asked, “How do you know that?”

“Oh, this is nothing. Ever play Resident Evil?”

He followed my instructions and a little circus tune played out of the speakers. His reward was a large orange treat shaped like a fish with DHARMA printed on it (of course). Kibble came out of the shoot and water started to come out of a pipe. Sawyer ate and drank hungrily. Ah, what a sad existence life in the DHARMA zooniverse must be. I watched him in disgust and sympathy and jumped when I heard Mr. Friendly’s voice come from the bushes.

“Keep moving,” he ordered as he and Kate walked over to Karl’s cage. She walked in and he shut the door behind her. “Stick your arms out through the bars; I'll take off your cuffs. They scratched you up pretty bad, didn't they? I'll bring you some anti-septic later,” he said.

“How about you bring me an ottoman?” Sawyer said, taking a bite out of his fish treat. “While you're at it I could use a blow dry.” Yes, he certainly could. Not as much as Kate, though.

“Hey, you got yourself a fish biscuit,” Mr. Friendly chuckled. “How'd you do that?”

“I figured out your complicated gizmos, that's how.” Yeah, with my help. Bastard.

As Mr. Friendly left, he said, “Only took the bears two hours.”

After he left, Sawyer looked over Kate. She was shaking again.  “You okay, Freckles?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied with a tough guy voice that fooled no one. “You?”

“Just swell. I requested that cage, but whatever,” he replied. He was trying to cheer her up, and it was kind of cute. Now there were two directions this conversation could’ve gone in. A) an incredibly awkward silence or B) an extremely corny conversation, one that got sappy pretty quick. Either way, I was leaving.  “Nice dress.”

“They made me wear it.” Kate replied indignantly. Honestly, the whole day she was worried about that stupid dress. She spat at the mere idea of it, as if saying, “Do you honestly think I would wear THIS?”

Sawyer disregarded Kate’s resentful attitude toward the dress. “You hungry?” he asked, holding out the fish treat. She nodded and caught the treat, hungrily taking a bite. Guess the stupid bitch never bothered with the free breakfast. It was FREE, for Helm’s sake, Kate. I left, this was just too depressing. There. I had been to the Others’ place and I never wanted to go back. But something told me I’d be coming here a lot for the next two weeks. Damn it all.

-Tibby T

(A/N: Ugh. I know this one sucked, but I didn’t have a lot to work with and I’ve been busy being stupid and writing other things and haven’t exactly gotten back into the LOST mode. I mean, Desmond, Charlie, and Hurley are my main inspiration. Without them I feel so… LOST. I realized today that Desmond and I have the same hair. I need my hair twin back. Bring me back my hair twin!)