Victims of the Knife: The Storm

Ms. Wildstar looks up from her dinner of fantasy novel cast off generic "food" and grimaces. "Is that thunder?"

Xander cocks his head a listens for a minute. "Hail?"

Nekar shakes his head. "She's writing again. About time. Just be glad she's on the laptop and not that old keyboard that sounded like a herd of elephants on speed."

"What are elephants?" asks Xander. "Are they similar to those gun-toting camels we heard about in the interview with Marion Sipe?

"No. Nevermind. I forgot you were from another planet."

Xander sets is plate on the ground. "So are you."

"Yeah well, I've been around a lot longer than you." Nekar picks up one of the freshly fallen paper wads. "Anyone see any new discarded food scenes? I'm sick of this bad food joke crap we've been stuck with for months."

"I haven't read much of it yet. The wads keep falling. I almost got crushed by a 3k pile of words yesterday." Xander looks up warily. "Anyone find any armor? Maybe a helmet? I don't care if its fantasy or sci-fi, as long as it protects my head."

"Nope, sorry," Ms Wildstar says as she finishes off her meal. "It's mostly been arguments and heavy paragraphs of character thought. I think I found a ration bar if anyone wants one."

Nekar shakes his head. "I'm not that hungry." His eyes grow wide. "Xander! You're fading!"

"YES!" Xander performs a double fist pump, full on mentos grin and leaps into the air. "Our gracious and wonderfully talented writer has found a role for me in the rewrite! I'm back in!"

Nekar hurls a paper wad at Xander as he vanishes. "Suck up."