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atrocity, baguette, batman, confession, costume, cure, danger, death, deceased, demotion, Down Syndrome, Ernest, family, fortune, Halloween, humiliation, lies, paper clip, rich, safety, sorting, treachery, trick or treat, underwear model, wealth grapes
8:09 pm
The day looms ever closer, and still there is no cure for Ernest. Tomorrow may be our only hope. Truly, I worry, and it shows in my work performance. I have now been relegated to paper clip sorting. That is not a lie, or a cover up for a more exciting line of work. I have truly been demoted to paper clip sorter.
What humiliation.
I may choose to change my line of work, and here I will confess. No, I will not. I will not place my family in danger. By God, if I must die, these are the two things I will complete before my time here is up.
1. I will ensure my family’s safety and fortune. They may have my underwear modeling wealth, but only after I am deceased.
2. I will avenge Baguette for her atrocities. She will pay for her lies and treacherous actions.
Grapes will now slave over Ernest’s costume, hoping he will be well enough for it tomorrow.
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anger, baguette, candy, cupcakes, death, depression, Down Syndrome, Edgar Allen Poe, Ernest, Grapes, Halloween, La Poo Poo, mission, money, morbid, poetry, rescue, smashed grapefruit, stress, trick or treat, work grapes
7:17 pm
It’s been a busy couple of days since I’ve been home. Right when I return to work, my employer gives me five missions to complete. Which is nothing, really, but combined with my break, lack of sleep over Ernest, Ernest rescue mission, and frantic telephone calls from Grapes, it was too much.
Ernest may not be well enough by Halloween, which worries him. Grapes and I are concerned because worry only brings more stress upon him, which will cause him to sink deeper into his illness. Now he is also depressed from his breakup with Baguette. We wonder if Baguette even knows that they are no longer together.
I regret returning to work, but we did need the money, especially for Ernest’s daily smashed grapefruit and occasional cupcake. The cupcakes do cheer him up, if only for several minutes. I miss Ernest. He is there, in his bed always, and yet it is like his spirit has left him and been replaced by Edgar Allen Poe. He’s been writing morbid poetry, always about death. ”Fly Home, Bird” is perhaps the closest one to his true self, but even that is angrier than I have ever seen Ernest.
Hopefully Halloween will cheer him up, if we decide to take him. In fact, Grapes was thinking that that might be the reason to take him Trick-Or-Treating. Some candy may do him good.
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alcohol, avenge, baguette, Ernest, foe, senses, soliloquy, vengeance, vow grapes
9:18 pm
I’ve already updated today, in my opinion. You can see Ernest’s blog for when I tackled him before he got too deep into his soliloquy. I’m completely exhausted. Today was my first day back on the job and while natural skill and talent enables me to recover quickly, my break had not prepared me for my return. Luckily, my senses had not degenerated too much and I was able to sense Ernest’s trouble, saving him from his second sip of alcohol.
Thank the heavens he didn’t like it.
I think I shall retire. I shall have to look especially magnificent tomorrow if my foe is to be intimidated by my presence.
But before I depart: I vow to avenge Baguette for her misleadings.
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candy, crime wave, Down Syndrome, employers, Ernest, Grapes, Halloween, Home Depot, invalid, La Poo Poo, Nordic, Nordic Icelands, Shaman, sick leave, sledgehammer, smashed grapefruit, top scientists, trick or treat grapes
7:37 pm
Poor thing. We hope he’ll be well enough for Trick-or-Treating on Halloween. It might be too drafty. God knows all that candy will cheer him up some. Ernest is still in bed like an invalid.
Down Syndrome is tricky. All this smashed grapefruit should be doing him some good, though. My shaman friend and some of the top scientists in the world have concurred that grapefruit is the number one thing you can eat when you have Down Syndrome.
Ah well. On Tuesday I have to return to the Nordic Icelands. There’s a severe crime wave going on and my employers are not very lenient on sick leave – particularly when you aren’t the one sick.
Ernest is awaking once again. I better go fetch some grapfruit and that old sledgehammer.
Note to self: Buy new sledgehammer. Home Depot?
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ashes, baby sea lion, Charles, cough, doctor, Down Syndrome, Ernest, fat, Grapes, high fever, icepacks, kayak, La Poo Poo, life-endangering, Nordic lands, obese, paprika, poison, Shaman, villian grapes
8:41 pm
His Down Syndrome is getting worse. The poor thing lies in bed all day with a horrible cough and a high fever. If it gets any higher he may burn himself to death until there is nothing left but ashes. Grapes keeps icepacks in his pillows but we do change them every half hodour or so because if they melt he could “soggify” himself to death as well.
Ernest seems to enjoy the icepacks very much. We still don’t know how he concocted Down Syndrome. There has been a response from one doctor who says he may just have a high fever, but we all know doctors are silly. It’s the shamen from the Nordic lands that you have to trust.
You think I’m joking. Well I kid you not. One time my partner was injured in the field by a obese baby sea elephant. We had been kayaking to the villain’s secret lair when Charles, my partner, let out a great whooping cry. It seems his marriage had been too much of a strain on him. Not everyone can afford to trust their spouse with the secret of their job. I, however, trust my family enough not to blab what I do to the world. Although Ernest has come close many a time.
The obese baby sea elephant, thinking that the whooping cry was the noise of his favorite toy, jumped at Charles and squashed him. Hearing the noise, the evil villain came out to see what the fuss was. I called for a Shaman, who sprinkled paprika on the scene while chanting “Colors of the Wind”. Miraculously, Charles awoke and the baby sea lion was dead. That night we had some sea lion fat shishkabob. I passed, it just seemed a bit too crude for my tastes. But I did manage to inject poison into the villain’s portion of sea elephant fat.
Ernest is crying again. Better go calm him down before he wets himself too much. That would be disastrous.
Did I also tell you that Ernest has started to wet himself in the usual sense of the word as well? It’s life-endangering for him. Grapes is so worried. Oh, this troublesome Down Syndrome.
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baguette, beaurocrat, blogs, Down Syndrome, Ernest, fanfiction, Grapes, La Poo Poo, sick, stealthygrapes, Sushmita grapes
11:13 pm
It is I, La Poo Poo. Poor Ernest has been whining in his sleep. He sounds like a love-sick puppy. Maybe he is, since he’s on unofficial quarantine. Not even Baguette can see him. Hopefully he gets better. The doctors were unable to diagnose anything, idiots with shiny pieces of paper that they are. Anyone can see that he has Down Syndrome. Of course, Grapes told me that we couldn’t be sure until a doctor said so. I told her that her life was run by a little beaurocrat in her head.
Speaking of Grapes, she has a website that will centralize all our little tidbits. Our blogs will be in the links section, and her fanfiction (which is getting on very well). Say hello in the guestbook or something. Or forum…but I personally believe those get a bit icky.
www.stealthygrapes.webs.com
Cheerio! Or not…rather.
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doctor, Edgar Allen Poe, Ernest, Grapes, illness, La Poo Poo, Swedish grapes
5:41 pm
Yesterday, Ernest began to show signs of a strange illness. We haven’t had time to take him to the doctor, but that trip will be tomorrow. He wants to post badly, but Grapes is still debating that issue. Needless to say, I’ve taken a leave at work, and I’ll continue updating you on his condition. Oh yes, before I forget, Grapes wants you to pray for Ernest. I say some donations of Swedish herbs would suffice, but I don’t quite know what we’re dealing with yet.
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!
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