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  <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin</id>
  <title>das_mervin</title>
  <subtitle>das_mervin</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>das_mervin</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2008-01-28T17:58:11Z</updated>
  <lj:journal username="das_mervin" type="personal"/>
  <link rel="service.feed" type="application/x.atom+xml" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/data/atom" title="das_mervin"/>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:19396</id>
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    <title>das_mervin @ 2008-01-28T11:56:00</title>
    <published>2008-01-28T17:58:11Z</published>
    <updated>2008-01-28T17:58:11Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Vampire Deacon Frost, an Abercrombie &amp; Fitch model, a dude from &lt;i&gt;Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow&lt;/i&gt;, and Edith Piaf join Captain Jack Sparrow.   They rob banks and evade Batman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on.  If you didn’t want to see &lt;i&gt;Public Enemies&lt;/i&gt; before, surely you want to see it &lt;i&gt;now&lt;/i&gt;.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:18922</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/18922.html"/>
    <title>Well.</title>
    <published>2007-12-22T19:38:53Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-22T19:38:53Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm in the middle of a huge, very freakishly long review of &lt;i&gt;Sweeney Todd&lt;/i&gt;, which I viewed last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Months of waiting for "Pretty Women" were well worth those few minutes.  That was SEXY.  And I don't mean just sexy, I mean it was SEX-Y.  That was the slashiest, most subtextual version of that song ever.  If I didn't know better, I would've thought they were about to tear off their clothes and go fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For realz, people.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:18558</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/18558.html"/>
    <title>Ah, ah.</title>
    <published>2007-12-12T15:59:55Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-12T15:59:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Well, no hangover from the booze.  How very nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I got a very nice a thorough massage from Buzz--on my left boob.  Same time tomorrow, Buzz, only we'll do the right one.  Damn cat--she's neurotic because Hyde isn't here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone know where I can buy an Ed Sanders?  I really want one.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:18071</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/18071.html"/>
    <title>das_mervin @ 2007-12-09T18:59:00</title>
    <published>2007-12-10T01:00:25Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-10T01:00:25Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Holy God, they closed the college tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES.  YES.  YES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*leaps about and takes off all of her clothes in celebration--which doesn't last long, as it is still absolutely freezing*</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:17794</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/17794.html"/>
    <title>*raised eyebrow*</title>
    <published>2007-12-09T06:48:47Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-09T06:48:47Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;i&gt;Ninety-five percent of kids out there are concerned with being popular and fitting in. If you're part of the five percent who are'nt, copy this, put it in your profile, and add your name to the list.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love irony so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found at &lt;a href="http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1003960/powderedsugar"&gt;this unique little typist's profile&lt;/a&gt; at the Pit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am fuckin' freezing, here.  The weather just turned nasty as hell.  And right before finals week, too.  Oh joy.  A 45 minute drive over lots of bridges has just turned into probably a three-hour drive over grease.  YAY.  I AM SO HAPPY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*drinks*</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:17135</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/17135.html"/>
    <title>...</title>
    <published>2007-11-26T22:35:18Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-26T22:35:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I had a dream that I watched a tractor with a big brushhog mower behind it run over two COWS.  I think if there hadn't been so much blood and gore and the remains hadn't looked the way they had afterwards, I would've been much less disturbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had weird dreams before, but that right there was fucked up.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:16529</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/16529.html"/>
    <title>das_mervin @ 2007-11-19T00:05:00</title>
    <published>2007-11-19T06:05:50Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-19T06:05:50Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/46038/"&gt;Fun with a tesla coil.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was just awesome.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:15652</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/15652.html"/>
    <title>*hops up and down*</title>
    <published>2007-11-08T23:19:18Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-08T23:19:50Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I've ALWAYS wanted to say this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;I'M BATMAN.&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="100%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tblBorderAll"&gt;
   &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src="http://quizfarm.com//images/1130268344BATMAN.jpg"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
   &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=11174N"&gt;Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
   &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Batman, the Dark Knight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;As the Dark Knight of Gotham, Batman is a vigilante who deals out his own brand of justice to the criminals and corrupt of the city. He follows his own code and is often misunderstood. He has few friends or allies, but finds comfort in his cause.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table width="50%"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;Batman, the Dark Knight&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="96" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;96%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;Indiana Jones&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="83" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;83%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;Captain Jack Sparrow&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="75" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;75%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;William Wallace&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="71" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;71%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;Maximus&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="58" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;58%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;Lara Croft&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="50" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;50%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;James Bond, Agent 007&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="50" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;50%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;The Amazing Spider-Man&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="50" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;50%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;Neo, the "One"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="46" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;46%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;The Terminator&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="42" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;42%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;El Zorro&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="29" bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="1"&gt;29%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/CIMP/Jmx0PTExOTQ1NjM4Nzk5MjEmcHQ9MTE5NDU2Mzk1NDgyOCZwPTY5MDgxJmQ9Jm49.jpg" /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:15417</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/15417.html"/>
    <title>Oh noez!!!</title>
    <published>2007-11-05T17:21:52Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-05T17:21:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.fanfiction.net/r/3673220/"&gt;Sanctuary of Arda has been plagiarized!  Whatever shall the fans do?!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The irony of this situation is not lost upon me, considering Halcyon has plagiarized from The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Quake II, Neverwinter Nights, WarCraft, Stargate: SG1, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Tom Clancy novels, and various fanfics across the web, the most prominent being S'Tarkan's fic "Harry Potter and the Nightmares of Futures Past."  Not to mention God knows what else.  If Halcyon himself weighs in on this situation, I am biting my tongue no longer and calling him out--because him getting mad at someone plagiarizing him will simply be too much.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:15233</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/15233.html"/>
    <title>Been meaning to write this for FOREVER.</title>
    <published>2007-11-02T20:58:31Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-02T20:58:31Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt; Business as Usual&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fandom:&lt;/b&gt; Once Upon a Time in Mexico/Harry Potter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Characters:&lt;/b&gt; Agent Sheldon Jeffrey Sands/Professor Severus Tobias Snape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Prompt:&lt;/b&gt; #38, Touch &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word Count:&lt;/b&gt; 300&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt; R for “sexuality” and some foul language&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Summary:&lt;/b&gt; Snape.  Sands.  The Game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author’s Notes:&lt;/b&gt;  Snape and Sands.  Just a little ditty for me to practice writing these two.  I decided to try and write a scene using dialogue only, and not have it be a brawl, like it normally would.  This is what I came up with.  Imagine the pauses and actions for yourself, and as to what the competition was all about…I’m going to leave that to you.  Like I said, use your imagination.  I sure did.  ‘Scuse me.  Back to my bunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Finally.  It took you long enough.  Too much for you to manage?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hardly.  I just like to savor it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What in Merlin’s name could there possibly be to savor?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Now, don’t be too hard on yourself, sugarbutt.  You’re pretty good—it’s just that I’m better.  Ask any of the ladies.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I might believe that if your tackle were even half the size of your ego.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You know, maybe if you would pull that pole out of your ass and stop and smell the roses long enough to jack one off now and again, you’d be more fun to be around.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t project your erectile dysfunction onto me, you warthog.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mmm—I would have a scathing reply for you, but that was very nice.  Do that again.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Never mind—do &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; again…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why should I?  Quid pro quo—you’ve done nothing to merit any effort on my part.  I think that your immense pride in your vastly superior skills is grossly misplaced.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“S’not my fault you’re distracting me.  There—that better?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No, it’s not.  Don’t touch me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There was no need to hit.  Bad dog.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If memory serves, you &lt;i&gt;bit&lt;/i&gt; me first.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You deserved that—ooohh, sweet Jesus.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I suggest you keep to that with which you are better acquaint—dammit!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And here you were picking on me about me not exerting myself—&lt;i&gt;self&lt;/i&gt;!  Ooh.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hmm…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“…and?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I win.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Bullshit. You win every time. You’re cheating and you know it—just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re doing it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  Now take your hands off me or you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to masturbate with a stump.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You fuck.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I won’t lower my standards to satisfy your whims, thank you very much.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Lucky for you that I have no standards.”&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:14959</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/14959.html"/>
    <title>THE SLASHER</title>
    <published>2007-10-29T06:11:33Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-29T06:23:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Being it’s Halloween (or at least around there), I figured a nice little history lesson would be nice.  That, and I wanted to write something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;THE SLASHER&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Orgy of Gore 23 Years in the Making&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the longest time, people tended to put movies like &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;A Nightmare on Elm Street&lt;/i&gt;, and &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt; in the genres of horror and thriller and suspense.  And why not?  The family Leatherface stunned thousands when it was released.  Freddy Krueger’s razors on metal sent chills up anybody’s spine.  And when Michael Myers stared at Jamie Lee Curtis from across the front lawn, all audiences were on the edges of their seats.  However, when one examines films in the horror, thriller, and suspense genres, there are distinct differences that set the slasher apart from them.  Slasher films have very strict rules.  Slasher films have a recognizable foe that can return countless times.  Slasher films can somehow keep going and going and going until it seems like they shouldn’t be going any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is a slasher film?  There is a percentage that would most assuredly answer: “Stupid.”  However, despite their sometimes ludicrous plots, ridiculous enemies, rigid rulebooks, and subpar acting, slashers have, well, slashed their way into the hearts of many and have established themselves as a genre that can stand the test of time.  So, tonight, I invite you to accompany me through the history of the slasher, examining the Seven Deadly Stalkers and the one that fell by the wayside, never catching on probably due to the fact that its title was far too long.  We’ll look at the plot, the audience reaction, and just how far people decided to take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;I. Just What the Hell is a Slasher?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Planet Terror.&lt;br /&gt;Komodo vs. Cobra.&lt;br /&gt;Audition.&lt;br /&gt;Hellraiser.&lt;br /&gt;Wait Until Dark.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those five movies are all from separate genres, and only one of them is a slasher.  Did you guess it?  You probably did.  The only slasher of the five is &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt;.  So—just why is &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; the only slasher?  All five of those movies have very distinct enemies.  All five of those movies are scary in their own ways.  All five of those movies have some level of blood and violence.  Shouldn’t they all fall under the category of “Horror?”  In a way, they could.  “Horror,” however, is a very, very broad term.  It does, in fact, have many subgenres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Planet Terror&lt;/i&gt; is a &lt;b&gt;zombie flick&lt;/b&gt;.  The title is self-explanatory.  It features zombies running amuck and eating brains and tearing apart the locals.  It has a group of heroes that blaze through the snarling undead, learning how to exist in a world populated by “sickos,” as the movie calls them.  Other movies in this particular genre are &lt;i&gt;Dawn of the Dead&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Redneck Zombies&lt;/i&gt;, and &lt;i&gt;Black Sheep&lt;/i&gt;.  Zombie movies are one of the biggest subgenres of Horror, and have very devoted fans.  Their main characteristics:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Zombies&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Obscene levels of gore&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gross-out factor&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;An individual or couple or small group that prevails and fights their way through the undead&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Very often includes black comedy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;ZOMBIES&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Romero’s zombie films are widely recognized as the best zombie flicks with an important message, the most acclaimed being 1968’s &lt;i&gt;Night of the Living Dead&lt;/i&gt;, most memorable for its chilling portrayal of a newly zombified child slowly killing and eating her own parents.  However, for the most part, zombie flicks in today’s culture often mock themselves and are ridiculous and over the top with their gore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Komodo vs. Cobra&lt;/i&gt; is what is known as a “bad movie,” but, for the sake of formality, we’ll call it a &lt;b&gt;creature feature&lt;/b&gt;.  And with a title like &lt;i&gt;Komodo vs. Cobra&lt;/i&gt;, one doesn’t really need much of an explanation.  It’s a giant komodo dragon and a giant cobra fighting.  Some people get in the way, and they eventually manage to get at least two of their party off of the island this story takes place.  Very few creature features have managed to get past the whole “bad movie” label that is usually associated with them.  Their main characteristics are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bad acting and foreigners&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Angry/giant/mutated animals, humans (rarely), or insects (pythons, lizards, spiders, grasshoppers, rabbits)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A group of people that gradually gets reduced to only one or two by the end&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The straight-to-video label&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hideous F/X&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;An atrocious plot&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said—creature features are often very, &lt;i&gt;very&lt;/i&gt; bad.  Arguably, there were only four creature features that ever achieved “good” quality: &lt;i&gt;The Birds&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Jaws&lt;/i&gt; (first one only), &lt;i&gt;Arachnophobia&lt;/i&gt;, and &lt;i&gt;Jurassic Park&lt;/i&gt;, and its status as a creature feature is dubious.  The former three, however, have a very distinct difference from most creature features—their animals aren’t mutated.  They are simply a little bigger and a little meaner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Audition&lt;/i&gt; is a &lt;b&gt;psychological horror&lt;/b&gt; movie.  It is the story of a recently made widower, mourning the loss of his wife.  His friends encourage him to date, so he holds a false audition for a new movie, when in reality it is an audition to be his new girlfriend.  The last girl on the list is the one he wants—it just so happens that she is a raging psychopath.  The movie is raw, exceedingly violent, and full of unflinching shots of torture, disfigurement, and the eating of vomit.  And yet, through all the blood and gore, there is a disturbing message that is usually missed, because people aren’t really concentrating on the weakness of man and the darkness of the human heart—they’re concentrating on the fact that she’s sawing his foot off with piano wire.  Characteristics of the psychological horror movie include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Often a single enemy that delights in torture and murder&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gruesome images of torture and death&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Blood is sometimes not necessary—sometimes, the director will simply give you sounds and screaming&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;An underlying message of man’s inhumanity to man or just what human beings are capable of doing to one another under stress or strain that comes through in the end and is represented by the disturbed killer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The hero/heroine does not always win&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psychological horror films are visceral and their main intention is to cause a gut reaction.  They want the audience to recoil in horror and feel the same pain the recipient of the villain’s torture is going through.  Eli Roth is particularly effective in this venue with his &lt;i&gt;Hostel&lt;/i&gt; films, and even briefly in his short fake trailer &lt;i&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/i&gt;, which caused a great many women to flinch in empathy as a cheerleader does the splits on a trampoline right onto a butcher knife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Wait Until Dark&lt;/i&gt; is a &lt;b&gt;suspense&lt;/b&gt; film.  The slow-starting film spins an eerie and all-too-real tale of a newly blind woman being slowly surrounded and stalked by heroin dealers.  Eventually, she discovers she is trapped, she has no allies left—and her enemies are coming for her.  Suspense is just what it says—they cause terror, suspense, and fear.  Common characteristics include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Realistic villains that can range from unpleasant to nearly evil&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The protagonists are also realistic—no super abilities, no nerves of steel&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The plot can range from intricate to almost impossibly twisted&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The real villain sometimes hides behind a fake one—red herrings are very common&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Repeated viewings don’t matter—they can scare you again and again and again&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suspense films, to me, are the best of the horror genre.  When a person wants to be scared, it’s films like &lt;i&gt;Wait Until Dark&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Signs&lt;/i&gt;, and &lt;i&gt;Rear Window&lt;/i&gt; that make the blood pump and make me want to sleep with the light on.  Those films make people forget the old adage “Trust they neighbor.”  They make you lock your door in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt;.  As said before, it’s a slasher.  It was based on a book by Clive Barker, a sick, twisted tale of the Cenobites, a sadomasochistic race of demons that can be summoned by solving a golden puzzle box.  Once summoned, they take the puzzle-solver down to hell for an eternity of agonizing pain and torture.  And what makes it a slasher?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A marketable villain—Pinhead, the lead Cenobite, is a recognizable figure&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;More than three sequels—to date, Pinhead has appeared in nine films, with a tenth coming in 2008&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is a lead heroine, and most importantly, she is a virgin&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pinhead has an ever-growing body count, always adding to it with inventive and creative (if a tad unrealistic) murder methods&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The series degenerated quickly into little more than slaughter festivals, their plots becoming ridiculous, stupid, and simply excuses to bring Pinhead back so he could kill a few more teens&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;It followed The Rules&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, THE RULES.  The rules of all slasher films, mocked these days by films like &lt;i&gt;Scary Movie&lt;/i&gt;.  Aside from a few minor ones (when in danger, run up a staircase, etc.), the main rules are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;You can’t kill the killer—slashers live for sequels.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Virgins = alive.  Sluts = dead.  This is not limited to sex, either.  You take off your clothes for any reason other than to change, you will die—and limit your changing, too.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Law enforcement is utterly useless.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;People often behave like lemmings, going one by one into the dark room or the ugly house or the forbidden woods.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;NEVER MOCK THE LEGEND.  That automatically revokes your virgin protection.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sidekicks always die—it makes the battle between the protagonist and the slasher personal.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;You can’t have a male protagonist.  It’s always a lead female, whether she be the last one standing or running away into the sunset with her boyfriend.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;They always know where you are—and where you will be, so they can precede you there.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;They always wear masks, whether it be a genuine mask or a disfigured visage.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tragic pasts don’t necessarily make the slashers sympathetic—and yet, they always have one, usually developed later in the series by filmmakers who want to try and legitimize what is simply a blood bath.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are THE RULES.  And here is the simplest slasher formula I could come up with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heroine + unkillable villain + weapon of choice + hapless teens = GORE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it wasn’t always like this.  Believe it or not, the slasher formula evolved, just like any other.  The quintessential, perfect, abide-by-the-rules slasher didn’t actually show up until 1996, and the slasher genre started in 1974!  So, what happened in those 22 years to create the perfect slasher?  Seven franchises—that’s what happened, starting with the least bloody—and most realistic, in my humble opinion—of them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;II. &lt;i&gt;The Texas Chainsaw Massacre&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a364/das_mervin/texas-chainsaw-1974-leatherface-sun.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You should come have dinner with us!  My family’s &lt;i&gt;always&lt;/i&gt; been into meat!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1974, Tobe Hooper presented his quickly-filmed, inexpensive-yet-still-over-budget gem of a film, &lt;i&gt;The Texas Chainsaw Massacre&lt;/i&gt;.  It was the story of a group of teens’ ill-fated drive out to a graveyard to check and see if Sally’s grandfather’s grave was one of many that had been desecrated by an unknown vandal.  It opened up with the chilling narration that what the audience was about to see was “one of the most bizarre crimes in the annals of American history,” and touted as based on true events.  The low quality of filming provided extra realism, as it looked like a grainy film documentary rather than a movie.  Because of low budget, Hooper could not afford to have hideously mutilated bodies and buckets of blood gushing from every corner.  As such, the audience never really saw what happened to most of the people—but they heard, and they got plenty of implication.  Example: you never see the meat hook slide into Pam’s back when Leatherface slams her down onto it for later slaughtering.  But you see her screaming and clinging desperately to the shiny metal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What had originally thought to be a career killer turned into an overnight hit.  Audiences everywhere flocked to see it, absolutely incapable of preventing themselves from going to see what critics had called “horrifying” and “obscene.” Americans couldn’t help but want to see the film that had been banned in several countries, wanted to know just what Tobe Hooper had unleashed into an unsuspecting public.  It was like nothing they had ever seen—a raw, unflinching film about a psychotic, inbred, cannibalistic family, in particular the large son known only as Leatherface and how he spun his chainsaw around when he chased his prey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were three main villains in &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt;, the most notable being, of course, Leatherface.  Named for the stitched-together mask of human skin he wore, Leatherface carried a large sledgehammer and a gas-powered chainsaw, and he used both to slaughter and slice human beings.  He didn’t speak—he squealed, whined, moaned, and shrieked, and his true face was never seen.  Not to be ignored, however, was his brother, known only as the Hitchhiker.  Played by the talented and perhaps slightly deranged Edwin Neil, the Hitchhiker did speak, as well as offer up the first sampling of terror for our intrepid teens.  He carried a razor and invited them to come eat with his family—they’ve always been into meat, after all, and make the finest chili and barbeque in town.  Only in the end do you realize what they make it out of, because that’s when you meet the father, the twisted, sick individual who holds everything together.  Perhaps the most chilling incident involving the father is the obscene way he coos to Sally, the heroine, that it will be all right even as he pokes her maliciously with the broken end of a broom handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; was not a blockbuster, but it was a huge success.  It jumpstarted the career of Edwin Neil, despite the miserable conditions of filming and the fact that he later stated he would kill Tobe Hooper if he ever saw him again.  And, most importantly for relevance to this little blurb, it started the slasher genre.  Leatherface was the forerunner of Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, and even Chucky.  Arguably, &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; started &lt;i&gt;two&lt;/i&gt; subgenres of Horror—the slasher &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; the psychological horror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; did not obey all the rules of a slasher film, mostly because they didn’t exist.  No one got naked in &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt;, and the only one who believed the legend and feared the worst was actually one of the victims to die.  However, it introduced one unshakable trait: the villain.  The marketable psychopath named Leatherface.  When &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; comes up, the first thing a person thinks of is the huge and lumbering figure of Leatherface, swinging his chainsaw about as he jibbers through the hole in his flesh mask.  The Hitchhiker and the family’s patriarch aren’t often mentioned, because they either died, dropped away, or changed through the years—Leatherface was the only unchanging symbol of the &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; franchise, because he wore a &lt;i&gt;mask&lt;/i&gt;.  The mask became a key component of a marketable slasher, because what happens when you want to make sequels and the original psycho doesn’t want to come and do another movie?  Now it didn’t matter—just find a guy of the same height and width, and you’re ready to go!  Leatherface was something that could be continued—he had a mask, he had a huge, terrifying figure, and, most importantly, he had a &lt;i&gt;chainsaw&lt;/i&gt;.  He had a weapon of choice, which he used to slice through whatever and whomever got in his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; is, to me, the only truly terrifying slasher film, from start to finish.  Its plot is not nearly as contrived as the next ones, and Leatherface was simply a huge, deranged killer.  He had no super abilities, he has no grudge, and he has no connection to the rest of the people he kills.  His motive is simple—kill people.  Not “kill the sinners,” “kill the bad people,” or “kill the people who wronged me.”  Simply kill.  Also, the heroine—the last girl standing—may have introduced the rule of only the female may prevail in the slasher, but she was almost too real for comfort.  When she finally escapes, all she can do is scream and laugh hysterically, covered in blood—she does not walk away from the scene with her head held high, unfettered by such ridiculousness as human emotion and terror.  She is genuinely hysterical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; did have sequels, prequels, and remakes—specifically, three sequels, one remake, and one prequel that followed the remake’s canon.  However, they adhered rigidly to the rules, because by the time they started appearing, the slasher formula was becoming set in stone.  That is what sets the original &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; apart from all other slashers, even members of its own franchise—it did not abide by the rules, it did not have a precedent.  It was not a slice-‘em-up bloodfest—it touted itself as a real story, as something that could happen to anyone.  And people believed that—after the movie came out, highway crime dropped 13% because &lt;i&gt;nobody&lt;/i&gt; wanted to pick up hitchhikers anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would take &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt; to introduce the super heroine, and the “have sex and die” rule.  But, until 1978, &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; reigned supreme as the first and foremost of all slashers, and set a precedent that would be followed up by a man in a William Shatner mask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;III. &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a364/das_mervin/halloween2.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Death has come to your little town, sheriff.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four years after &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; had been released, John Carpenter threw his offering onto the screens.  It was called &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt;, and it featured the story of when Michael Myers came home from the mental hospital.  Why was he there in the first place?  Because, when he was five years old, he stabbed his older sister to death with a large kitchen knife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt; was a blockbuster.  Thousands flocked to see it, and its theme song became probably the most terrifying of all slasher themes.  Simple, repetitive, yet highly effective, the reedy piano theme written by John Carpenter has been used by Halloween horror houses everywhere to set mood.  The then unknown Jamie Lee Curtis was launched into fame, becoming a star almost overnight and went on to do films like &lt;i&gt;A Fish Called Wanda&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Trading Places&lt;/i&gt;, and, even though most actors refuse to return to their roots (or even mention them), she went on to star in the sequel &lt;i&gt;Halloween H20&lt;/i&gt;.  People loved &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt; because it was still a scary film that made people afraid to walk home alone at night—or even with company.  &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt; still clung to the notion that it wasn’t just a slaughterfest, preferring to imply gore rather than show it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leatherface had set a precedent—Michael Myers was big, he was silent, and he wore a mask.  He carried a weapon of choice—his kitchen knife—and he went through teens one by one, just as his predecessor had.  Also, the main protagonist and sole survivor of Michael’s blade was a woman, but she was slightly more rational and didn’t shake up nearly as badly as Sally had in &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt;.  However, John Carpenter’s film set down one of the most unshakable rules of all slashers—every last person who was a “bad girl,” a jerk, or even hinted that they were going to get lucky died by Michael’s hand.  In &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt;, the dating couple did die, but it was never confirmed that they were having sex, and you never even saw them kiss.  In &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt;, it is established—the ditzy cheerleader, humping away at her idiot boyfriend.  The girl wearing only a shirt and underwear, running next door because her boyfriend called for a little nookie.  All died when Michael Myer’s strolled into town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carpenter also introduced the idea of the slasher having one specific person in mind—the last one standing.  Leatherface and his posse never really targeted one person.  They didn’t leave Sally for last; she was simply the last one to go into the house.  Michael Myers kills his teens in order, and constantly watches Jamie Lee Curtis from behind a hedge, from the neighbor’s lawn, and from his junky car.  In the end, once he’s killed everyone else, he finally comes for her.  However, Curtis had the luck of being in the film that set the doom-sayer character in stone for slashers—Dr. Loomis, played by the ever-creepy Donald Pleasance.  &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt; had hinted that someone who seems to know more than everyone else is good foreshadowing—the town drunk, sitting in the tire, giggling that he saw who desecrated the graves.  Dr. Loomis, however, tries desperately to warn the town that Michael Myers is in town, and that he’s going to kill everyone he finds, and that you can’t stop him, &lt;i&gt;no one&lt;/i&gt; can stop him.  And so, &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt; promptly set up the rule of nobody listening to the one who tries to warn them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Myers was not only a big, scary man in a William Shatner mask, he was also seemingly indestructible.  He got stabbed, a wire hanger was shoved into his eye, he was beaten and attacked and every time he fell, he got right back up and resumed his slow march towards his goal of killing.  &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt; presented the audience with a killer that simply couldn’t be killed.  It introduced the super-natural element, as well as hinting that sequels would be nice.  Michael Myers is shot several times and falls off of a balcony—and then when they go to look for his body, he’s gone, ending the movie on a hanging note that can only be dropped with a sequel.  And sequels it had—six of them (barring &lt;i&gt;Halloween III&lt;/i&gt;, which did not feature Michael Myers for some incredibly odd reason), along with the recent remake by Rob Zombie and discussion of sequels to the remake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt; was probably the last of the truly frightening slashers.  Directors realized that the main thing that was selling was not the plot—it was the blood.  It was the fact that audiences enjoyed watching a single figure slice and dice hapless teens.  And one director—Sean Cunningham—took that idea and turned it into the most prolific and one of the most iconic horror figures in cinema history in 1980.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;IV. &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a364/das_mervin/JASONPIC.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Jason was my son—and today is his birthday.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s hard to talk about &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt; and what it added to the slasher genre, because the original film did not feature Jason Voorhees.  Point of fact, he didn’t become the hockey-masked murderer until the third installment, and he didn’t become the undead hockey-masked murderer until the fourth.  So, first it must be told of what the first film added to the genre, because &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt; is probably the one that plays the rules as strictly as possible, second only to &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean Cunningham released &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt; onto the unsuspecting public in 1980.  It was the one that started having the plot hang by a thin (and usually badly-acted) thread, and established that audiences simply didn’t care that the plot was threadbare.  &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt; was welcomed by audiences as well as stirring up a little controversy in memory of &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt;—the main villain was the only female slasher to ever grace the screen, and the actress who played her—Betsy Palmer—was well known on stage as well as screen.  As a result, some of her devoted fans despised the movie and threatened the filmmakers, disgusted with how they decided to portray her and accusing them of ruining their view of her forever.  But, despite those negative views, &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt; became very popular (and, in later years, very mocked), and it soon established itself in the halls of great slashers—because it was the one that contributed the most to the slasher genre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was extremely violent, and did not shy away from shoving a fire poker through Kevin Bacon’s neck (yet another person who owes his career to slashers).  It brought in a large group of teens and killed all but one of them off, each in inventive ways, rather than just a simple knife to the chest, hammer to the head, or the ever-boring strangulation.  And, when it was all said and done, all of the bodies were placed carefully about to ensure that the last female standing would have a chance to see the killer’s handiwork.  It introduced the long-standing rule of “do drugs and die.”  It adhered strictly to the already set rule of “have sex and die,” and promptly upped the ante—“get undressed and die.”  It set up the idea that going into a dark room or venturing out to look for lost friends will kill you, and delighted in separating the group one by one so the slasher could do what it did best.  And, importantly, it set up the grudge—the killer kills for a &lt;i&gt;reason&lt;/i&gt;.  Mrs. Voorhees’s son drowned at Camp Crystal Lake, because nobody was watching him—the counselors were off—guess what?—having sex..  So, she returns to the camp to kill off every last person who dares set foot at her son’s final resting place, as well as seeking justice against the teens as they follow in the neglectful counselors’ footsteps.  However, the original &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt; did present somewhat of a problem for the franchise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Voorhees was dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leatherface did not die in &lt;i&gt;TCSM&lt;/i&gt;, and Michael Myers mysteriously managed to live through all of his abuse.  Mrs. Voorhees was firmly and spectacularly decapitated by the last surviving female, and she was &lt;i&gt;dead&lt;/i&gt;.  Obviously, that made it somewhat difficult for the Voorhees franchise to continue.  So how did it continue?  It’s the most prolific, with eleven films already out and a twelfth and perhaps a thirteenth (how amusing) in the works.  How on earth did they manage to work around the fact that Mrs. Voorhees was dead and buried at Camp Crystal Lake?  Well, I’m sure everybody already knows the answer to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They retrieved her son to do it for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason Voorhees, drowned in the lake at age twelve, was seen in the original &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt;.  You never know if it is a dream sequence that Alice has, of a half-rotted child leaping out and dragging her forcefully into the water.  But, real or not, it was enough for directors and screenwriters.  Jason Voorhees dragged himself out of the lake and became a true slasher—big, with a mask, and a choice weapon.  Jason favored the machete, even though his mask took a little time to develop—filmmakers quickly realized that the burlap sack wasn’t intimidating, so, by &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th Part III&lt;/i&gt;, Jason had acquired the iconic hockey mask.  However, he was also killed in the third one.  That was when they decided to usher him formally into the undead, and now, at the end of every Jason sequel, he is put back down, but a simple jolt of electricity or an unfreezing or a summoning by a telepathic girl can bring him back out of the murky depths of Camp Crystal Lake and the bowels of hell—or the sewers of Manhattan—or outer space.  Jason Voorhees was also the first to face down &lt;i&gt;another&lt;/i&gt; slasher from an entirely different franchise, an idea introduced in the ninth installment &lt;i&gt;Jason Goes to Hell&lt;/i&gt;, but not realized until ten years later in 2003.  In &lt;i&gt;Jason Goes to Hell&lt;/i&gt;, a familiar razor-glove snatches Jason’s mask and drags it down beneath the earth, presumably to hell.  The razor-glove belonged to Jason’s biggest franchise rival, as well as the one that completely circumvented the problem of killing or hurting the slasher villain—he was already dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;V. &lt;i&gt;A Nightmare on Elm Street&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a364/das_mervin/ci3014.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t.  Fall.  Asleep.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My apologies in advance if this particular bit is more glowing and doting than the others.  &lt;i&gt;Nightmare&lt;/i&gt; is my favorite of the lot, and Freddy Krueger is perhaps the most beloved of all slashers.  He certainly my favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes Craven had already had a taste of moderate success with his controversial &lt;i&gt;Last House on the Left&lt;/i&gt; and his strange and sick tale &lt;i&gt;The Hills Have Eyes&lt;/i&gt;.  When he heard about a group of men who had refused to sleep because of horrible nightmares, but eventually succumbed to dreamland and all died screaming in their sleep, he couldn’t resist the idea of turning it into a movie.  So, in 1984, after a ton of funding problems, time restrictions, set disasters, and fights with the censorship committees, he finally debuted &lt;i&gt;A Nightmare on Elm Street&lt;/i&gt;, the film that launched him headfirst into the throne of slasher king.  It told the story of a nightmare killer skulking into the dreams of innocent teens and slicing them to bits—or, in one memorable case, emulsifying them.  People were stunned by the film—its gruesome death scenes, its buckets of blood, and, most especially, a killer that had a charismatic and smartass personality—all of it came together to make an instant hit.  Freddy Krueger became a name that everybody knew, even before Jason Voorhees, who was still building his own reputation through bad sequels.  Nobody could stop talking about it, and filmmakers eyed the young, never-before-seen actor named Johnny Depp who portrayed the heroine’s boyfriend with ideas of turning him into a teen idol. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Nightmare&lt;/i&gt; took the idea of a slasher and, while adhering to &lt;i&gt;most&lt;/i&gt; of the rules, decided to break away from the typical lumbering giant of a killer with a tangible mask and a distinct lack of speech.  Freddy Krueger had a sort of mask—it was his own burnt flesh.  However, you could see his face, see his laughter, and watch him smile unpleasantly as he stalked children in their dreams.  Not only that, but he was small and relatively skinny.  But what he lacked in mass he made up for in killings—Freddy Krueger didn’t need mass.  He killed in the dreamworld—dragging a girl up on the ceiling and disemboweling her, yanking a boy into his mattress and spitting him back out as no less than 200 gallons of blood, bone, and entrails, chasing down whomever he pleased through a clanking, steam-filled basement.  &lt;i&gt;Nightmare&lt;/i&gt; rescued the slashers from being doomed to march along as huge, nameless killers by giving Freddy a personality, something that has been repeated by every successful slasher since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What set Freddy apart from the others was that he was original.  Not satisfied with merely chopping up victims, Wes Craven took it a step further and used all manner of methods to kill teens.  Even when Freddy was just slicing or stabbing, it was inventive—his weapon of choice wasn’t a knife or a chainsaw, something you could buy at the store; Freddy owned a glove with four razor-sharp knives protruding from the end, something he made himself.  At the time, Freddy was unique among slashers, a figure that, for some reason, audiences didn’t want to see defeated.  His sequels were often anticipated, for people wanted more, more, more of Freddy Krueger.  People couldn’t wait to see how he’d been killing the next batch of teens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, he did still adhere to the rules—he killed the sluts, but let the virgins live.  Glen Lantz, Nancy’s boyfriend, may have been a virgin, but he mocked the legend.  Down he went, and in the most spectacular and goriest death scene ever put to film.  He killed because of a grudge—the parents of Elm Street had burned him alive inside his boiler room, so he returned to murder the rest of the children he hadn’t gotten to yet.  And, most importantly, the film ended with the chance of a sequel, and sequels came—eight sequels, to be exact and even a TV spin-off, each one hiding under a mask of legitimacy, dropping info about Freddy’s past and fleshing out his character, giving him even more motivation and explaining how he managed to come kill children from the spirit world, all while finding new and inventive ways to kill teens, such as turning one woman into a cockroach and crushing her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Freddy Krueger set a new precedent—an inventive killer with a personality and a weapon that can do more than just stab.  And what better way to follow up a snazzy serial killer like Freddy than with a bunch of leather-wearing sadomasochists from hell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;VI. &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a364/das_mervin/pinhead.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We’ll tear your soul apart!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clive Barker’s 1986 &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; was a real shocker.  The Cenobites were more than just supernatural humans with intent to kill.  In fact, their intent was far from killing—they wanted to &lt;i&gt;torture&lt;/i&gt;.  And torture they did—audiences everywhere were horrified by Pinhead and his gang of leather-clad demons, so horrified that the general message of the film was completely lost amongst the screaming.  &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; was interesting in that it delivered more than the twisted slasher message of, “Don’t do drugs, don’t be promiscuous, and don’t be a jerk.”  It was a disapproving message of indulgence, following the story of Frank and his constant quest for pleasure, which led him fatefully to the puzzle box that summoned Pinhead to his side, where he was quickly ripped apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet again, this killer wore only a semi-mask—Pinhead’s name told the whole story.  He had three-inch metal pins buried in his skull, covering his entire head.  His compatriots were in similar states of eternal pain, all wearing black leather.  In other words, they took S&amp;M to a level it should never, &lt;i&gt;ever&lt;/i&gt; be taken.  They took the old slasher rule of “have sex and die” and advanced it to a disturbing level—sex is not just something indulged in by horny teens—point of fact, there are only &lt;i&gt;two&lt;/i&gt; teenagers in &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt;, and neither of them die.  Sex is the symbol of indulgence and a lack of self-control, and those who indulge themselves invariably die.  Julia uses sex as a lure for Frank’s victims before she kills them and lets Frank suck them dry so he can regain his own body.  However, in the end, her own twisted desires kill her as well, and the Cenobites eventually return and take Frank back to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; introduced the idea that there can be more than one main killer.  While Pinhead was the character that became the moneymaker, he was actually &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; the central character that did the most killing.  That would be Uncle Frank, the man who opened the puzzle box in the opening of the movie.  You actually see Pinhead and his bunch kill only one victim in the first movie.  Frank and his mistress are the ones who are truly evil and deadly.  The Cenobites are almost like gatekeepers, and there is a point where you are eventually glad to see them.  They arrive just in time to save the lead virgin, Kirsty, from Frank’s knife.  Indeed, this theme prevailed through the majority of the &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; flicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another theme the &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; movies started that was imitated in sequels from other franchises was the disgust factor.  &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; had plenty of gore and blood, but most of the time, it was &lt;i&gt;utterly disgusting&lt;/i&gt;.  Frank’s rebirth scene alone made thousands want to vomit.  Then there were the dead bodies themselves, and the stretched flesh of Pinhead’s victims.  Freddy Krueger was the slasher that most enthusiastically latched onto the idea of grossing out audiences with death scenes.  So, while &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; was inspired by Freddy to be inventive, Freddy was inspired by &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; to be disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinhead himself, however, advanced the idea of a killer with a personality by making the leader of the Cenobites a sophisticated monster.  He did not crack off jibes, like Freddy did, but he had a marvelous way with words (“Please—no tears.  They are a waste of good suffering.”).  He was an established immortal as well, circumventing the problem of how to bring him back—all filmmakers needed to do was drop the puzzle box off on some unsuspecting sap and they could easily manage to get some interesting kills in.  Pinhead did not run or walk or stumble through a scene—he &lt;i&gt;strolled&lt;/i&gt;, hands usually behind his back.  He hardly ever raised a hand against his victims, preferring instead to use his telekinesis to send fishhooks flying through the air on chains to rip his victims apart.  And, when he wasn’t in the mood to expend the effort, he let his lackies do it for him, and they were equally skilled in murder and mayhem.  Pinhead was the first slasher to explain why he was supernatural in the first film, instead of later on in the franchise.  &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt; never really explained Michael’s inhuman ability to recover.  Jason had to wait for &lt;i&gt;Jason X&lt;/i&gt;, the tenth in the series.  Freddy was forced to wait patiently until the sixth movie, &lt;i&gt;Freddy’s Dead&lt;/i&gt; until his supernatural dream abilities were explained.  Pinhead?  Immediate justification—they are demons.  Done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; franchise was odd in that it seemingly reached closure to the series with the fourth installment.  The gateway was closed, the puzzle box seemingly destroyed.  Apparently, the series was actually not supposed to advance beyond the fourth film.  Naturally, that didn’t work, and Pinhead—always the same one—went on to be in nine films, with another one due next year.  However, before any of his series could begin taking off, another killer marched onto the slasher stage—and this one was only two feet tall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;VII. &lt;i&gt;Child’s Play&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a364/das_mervin/Chuckykills.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hi!  It’s me, Chucky!  Whaddya think?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably the least notable of all the slashers, &lt;i&gt;Child’s Play&lt;/i&gt; rode in on the coattails of &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; in 1987 from director Tom Holland.  It was a strange tale, featuring a Satanic serial killer that transferred his soul into a popular doll, which is bought by an unsuspecting family and chaos ensues.  Oddly enough, it had the most big names in it than any other slasher, not needing to jumpstart any careers, as many of them had already prospered.  &lt;i&gt;Child’s Play&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Child’s Play&lt;/i&gt; was a slasher that broke the rules.  Like &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt;, there were no horny teens—but unlike &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt;, the main target was a five-year-old boy.  Slashers had, until then, generally stayed away from small children, deeming them untouchable.  &lt;i&gt;Child’s Play&lt;/i&gt; went right for the kid, having Chucky pursue him for use in a Satanic ritual that would culminate in his death.  There were no super-virgin women—the lead female was actually a divorced woman.  And the one who delivered the final blow?  Was a man.  However, in breaking the rules, in introduced a few of its own.  No one listened to the child when he tried to explain what he knew.  It introduced the possibility of a law enforcement officer that &lt;i&gt;wasn’t&lt;/i&gt; completely stupid.  And, lastly, it waited a good long while before finally revealing the villain, something that hadn’t been done since &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People generally regard &lt;i&gt;Child’s Play&lt;/i&gt; as the red-headed stepchild of the seven heavyweights.  It’s franchise is the second shortest of all of them, and its sequels are general frowned upon, considering every single one of them made it into theaters, which cannot be said for all of the others.  However, despite the fact that &lt;i&gt;Child’s Play&lt;/i&gt; is the smallest slasher in more ways that one, it still manages to attract an audience, as well as attract big names to its films.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then…nothing happened.  No new slasher franchises showed up for nine years.  Sequels appeared to the existing series, no new villains thundered onto the scene.  The slasher genre seemed to have reached a stand still—until Wes Craven stepped up to the plate once again and ended it for good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;VIII. &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a364/das_mervin/18454870.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you like scary movies?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes Craven revolutionized the slasher industry with &lt;i&gt;A Nightmare on Elm Street&lt;/i&gt;.  It stands to reason that he would be the one to finish it.  In 1996, he released &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt; to fans everywhere.  It was highly publicized and a big hit, and very rapidly became one of the most talked-about films of the year.  Why?  Because while it was the story of an unknown villain slashing through horny teens, it didn’t just abide by the rules—it &lt;i&gt;stated&lt;/i&gt; the rules.  &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt; was a slasher about two boys obsessed with slashers.  A little &lt;i&gt;too&lt;/i&gt; obsessed, because they decide to transfer the slasher rules into real life and kill everyone around them according to those rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, this was the one that finally came out and said, “Yes!  All slashers are, at their core, exactly alike!”  This was the one that almost mocked the rules, as well as deliberately breaking the “Virgins live, sluts die” rule.  It paid homage to all of the greats, as well as pointing out facts that were somewhat ridiculous.  Lastly, it made it personal on a different level—the killer doesn’t murder the lead heroine’s boyfriend.  He &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; the lead heroine’s boyfriend, something that had never been done before.  A teenaged boy as a slasher, rather than some nightmare monster or huge, hulking brute?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt; did not add any new rules to the genre, but it didn’t need to because it went through and deliberately and formally lay out every rule slashers lived by.  Even slashers who had become accustomed to refusing to have the truth about their favorite films pointed out to them couldn’t ignore this one, because it was the movie doing the pointing instead of a critic.  So, while the &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt; franchise was hugely successful, it was a) the shortest, with only three movies, and b) the end of the world for the genre.  Originally, it had been fun to watch a slasher movie, watching it silently adhere to the rules and occasionally cast one aside and invent a new one.  The slashers evolved, with new villains coming up and challenging the rules and attititudes of the previous.  However, &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt; did none of this.  It challenged the rules, all right—challenged them to deny that they exist.  As a result, the industry lost its edge.  To have the playbook suddenly published out in the open was a disaster for the genre.  Unfortunately, nobody told that to Jim Gillespie, and in 1997, he attempted to stand with the big boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;IX. The One that Didn’t Quite Make It: &lt;i&gt;I Know What You Did Last Summer&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I Know What You Did Last Summer&lt;/i&gt; actually had three films in its series, but it never became a franchise.  Some found that strange (probably Gillespie being one of them), because it had all of the elements—a masked killer, a choice weapon, and he killed teens off one by one.  The surviving lead was a female, and the killer killed because of a grudge.  Virgins lived, sluts died.  The comedic reason was often that the title was too long.  However, the truth is quite simple—it returned to roots that were long since abandoned and came out after Wes Craven’s &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The villain of &lt;i&gt;Last Summer&lt;/i&gt; is a large, silent man.  You never see his face, and he carries a huge fishing hook that he uses to slaughter his victims.  While that seems like a reasonable slasher villain, that particular form had fallen by the wayside in 1984 after Freddy Krueger.  People simply weren’t interested anymore in the large, silent, masked murderer.  They wanted a killer with personality—a killer not afraid to face you down and say a bad pun when he kills you.  As a result, &lt;i&gt;Last Summer&lt;/i&gt; was almost thirteen years behind the times when it came to the slasher visage.  Secondly, it was released &lt;i&gt;after Scream&lt;/i&gt;.  &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt;, as stated before, pointed out every single slasher rule.  It whipped the veil off of the genre and exposed it for what it was, effectively ruining any other franchise that might try to come in and make new rules.  While a slasher franchise attempting to revolutionize the genre &lt;i&gt;might&lt;/i&gt; have legs, &lt;i&gt;Last Summer&lt;/i&gt; did not.  It merely adhered to rules already in place and attempted to use a killer that was obsolete.  As a result, it never caught on, and, due to the lack of sequels and a killer that everybody can recognize, it cannot be counted as one of the heavyweights in the genre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;X. So—What Now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After &lt;i&gt;I Know What You Did Last Summer&lt;/i&gt;, not a single person attempted to produce another slasher franchise.  Instead, sequels were made, most direct to video, and big-budget remakes of the classics have been cropping up, starting with &lt;i&gt;The Texas Chainsaw Massacre&lt;/i&gt;.  The most recent was Rob Zombie’s &lt;i&gt;Halloween&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/i&gt; is already being discussed and casting is on the horizon, and a remake of &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt; is already written and now the writers and director are searching for funding.  Even &lt;i&gt;Child’s Play&lt;/i&gt; is having the eye of retelling cast upon it, and one wonders if Wes Craven will ever allow someone to touch his brainchild, &lt;i&gt;A Nightmare on Elm Street&lt;/i&gt;, the only one prior to 1990 that seems impervious to the desire for a remake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seven villains themselves are flourishing.  Just one look through the Halloween costume department at the store shows that Jason and Freddy are still battling each other, rows of hockey masks attempting to overpower the dozens of fedoras and striped shirts just below them.  Machetes still clash with razor gloves, as children snatch up their favorite for Halloween.  The &lt;i&gt;Scream&lt;/i&gt; duo are no slouch, either—beside skull masks and Reaper costumes, you will invariably find a collection of masks resembling German impressionist artwork—and beside them, William Shatner in white-face stares blankly at the crowd.  Cardboard replicas of Leatherface stand proudly beside Dracula and Captain Jack Sparrow, and I recently saw where you could buy a Chucky doll.  And, while Pinhead memorabilia is somewhat lacking (mostly due to its usual graphic nature and the fact that very few people can go as a good-looking Pinhead for Halloween), their DVD collection is one of the biggest, and they recently released a two-disc special edition of the original &lt;i&gt;Hellraiser&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the slashers themselves are hardly floundering.  They still sell, whether it be in the form of movies or paraphernalia.  People still talk lovingly about their favorite slasher, and I’ve been part and partial to dozens of Freddy vs. Jason debates.  However, while the seven are quite successful and show no signs of dying out, I’m afraid they are going to have to carry the entire genre on their bloody shoulders, because the market for new villains has, plain and simple, closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:14801</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/14801.html"/>
    <title>das_mervin @ 2007-10-25T00:02:00</title>
    <published>2007-10-25T05:03:32Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-25T05:03:32Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Swiped from &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/kayljay"&gt;kayljay&lt;/a&gt; over on livejournal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Starts with F and ends with K ???? Think before you start laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A first-grade teacher, Ms. Brooks, was having trouble with one of her students. &lt;br /&gt;The teacher asked, "Harry, what's your problem?"&lt;br /&gt;Harry answered, "I'm too smart for the 1st grade.My sister is in the 3rd grade and I'm smarter than she is-I think I should be in the 3rd grade too!" &lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks having had enough took Harryto the principal's office. &lt;br /&gt;While Harry waited in the outer office,the teacher explained to the principal what the situation was. The principal told Ms. Brooks he would give the boy a test. &lt;br /&gt;If he failed to answer any of his questions he was to go back to the 1st grade and behave.&lt;br /&gt;She agreed. Harry was brought in and the conditions were explained to him and he agreed to take the test.&lt;br /&gt;Principal: "What is 3 x 3?"&lt;br /&gt;Harry: "9." &lt;br /&gt;Principal: "What is 6 x 6?" &lt;br /&gt;Harry: "36."&lt;br /&gt;And so it went with every question the principal thought a 3rd grader should know.&lt;br /&gt;The principal looks at Ms. Brooks and tells her, "I think Harry can go to the3rd grade." &lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks says to the principal, "Let me ask him somequestions." &lt;br /&gt;The principal and Harry both agreed. &lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks asks, "What does a cow have four of that I have only two of?"&lt;br /&gt;Harry, after a moment: "Legs." &lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks: "What is in your pants that you have but I do not have?"&lt;br /&gt;The principal wondered why would she ask such a question!&lt;br /&gt;Harry replied: "Pockets." &lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks: "What does a dog do that a mansteps into?" &lt;br /&gt;Harry: "Pants." &lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks: What starts with a C, ends witha T, is hairy, oval, delicious &lt;br /&gt;and contains thin, whitish liquid?"&lt;br /&gt;Harry: "Coconut."&lt;br /&gt;The principal sat forward with his mouth hanging open.&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks: "What goes in hard and pink then comes out soft and sticky?" &lt;br /&gt;The principal's eyes opened really wide and before he could stop the answer, &lt;br /&gt;Harry replied, "Bubble gum." &lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks: "What does a man do standing up, a woman does sitting down &lt;br /&gt;and a dog does on three legs?"&lt;br /&gt;Harry: "Shake hands."&lt;br /&gt;The principal was trembling.&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Brooks: "What word starts with an 'F' and ends in 'K' that means a lot of heat and excitement?" &lt;br /&gt;Harry: "Firetruck." &lt;br /&gt;The principal breathed a sigh of relief and told the teacher, "Put Harry in the fifth-grade, I got the last seven questions wrong. . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:14563</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/14563.html"/>
    <title>Argh.</title>
    <published>2007-10-22T14:56:21Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-22T15:00:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wish I had more people who liked horror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two copies of &lt;i&gt;Planet Terror&lt;/i&gt;.  Don't ask me how I got them, because it's stupid.  I only want ONE copy of &lt;i&gt;Planet Terror&lt;/i&gt;, and I can't return one of them because I lost the receipt.  There's only one person I know who I could sell/give it to, and we aren't on speaking terms anymore because he's a misogynistic bastard who thinks manliness is measured by how fast he can get laid by his girlfriend and I grew very tired of watching him strut around like he was some big man on campus when in reality he's a worthless pustule and it probably would make very little difference in appearance if you chopped his dick off and I really wish someone would because he's displaying THE SAME ATTITUDE TOWARDS WOMEN THAT NEIL HAS AND EVERY TIME I THINK ABOUT HIM I INVARIABLY THINK OF HOGWARTS EXPOSED AND WANT TO KILL SOMEBODY &lt;b&gt;NAMELY THAT &lt;i&gt;FUCKING &lt;u&gt;MOTHERFUCKER&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess I'm gonna have two copies until I find someone to take the unwanted one off my hands.  Phooey.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:14100</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/14100.html"/>
    <title>Gather round, it's TMI time.</title>
    <published>2007-10-20T22:44:21Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-20T22:44:21Z</updated>
    <content type="html">But before I declare it TMI Time, I just want to flaunt around the new Sweeney Todd trailer.  And yell at them in general because I WANT ONE OF THE MUSICAL TRAILERS NOW, DAMMIT, YOU GAVE US TWO HORROR TRAILERS, THEY WERE BOTH GREAT, NOW GIVE US SOME GODDAMN &lt;i&gt;SINGING&lt;/i&gt;.  The Judge singing, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think it was a red-screen trailer--blood, blood, glorious blood.  And on the subject of blood, it is now &lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;TMI Time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I have a baby and not know about it?  My period is approaching two weeks now, and it's still just GUSHING.  Seriously.  I can FEEL IT.  I have never changed pads this fast and this often.  It stopped for a short amount of time a couple of days ago, and I nearly went the day without a pad, but luckly decided to do so in case of spotting.  WHOOSH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all of this is very, very strange, because I'm on birth control for this sort of thing, and my period started WHILE I WAS STILL ON MY PINK PILLS an entire week early.  And it hasn't stopped yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:13610</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/13610.html"/>
    <title>das_mervin @ 2007-10-16T17:16:00</title>
    <published>2007-10-16T22:21:18Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-16T22:21:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.ohjohnny.net/sweeney/sweeneycaps/sweeney0522.jpg"&gt;Mittens!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My two cousins, who are effectively my nephews, are coming to visit in two days.  We plan on taking them around town--Omniplex, zoo, the Sam Noble Museum.  They are into that kind of stuff.  I hope we show them a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jan in the Pan is on i-mockery.  Gotta show that to the MST3K community.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:journalfen.net:atom1:das_mervin:13559</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.journalfen.net/users/das_mervin/13559.html"/>
    <title>Have to test it before I post it!</title>
    <published>2007-10-08T19:12:28Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-08T19:12:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Sorry this took so long, but I got wordy, Sands got wordy, and it was just a miserable excuse for a fic.  That, and I spent a lot of time screaming “WHY???!!!!” to the heavens as I read this, and not just in the “Why, God?” fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The previous sporking of this fic is &lt;a href="http://community.livejournal.com/deleterius/2969912.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, along with the profile.  Here’s the next part!  Part one, of chapter two!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Harry has a prophetic dream…where he beats the game Neverwinter Nights 2—WITHOUT THE WALKTHROUGH!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: All right!  When we last left off, Harry had been kidnapped by one Daeghun Farlong, who had in turn sent Albus Dumbledore a rather rude and condescending letter about how and why he was kidnapping young Mr. Potter, as well as informing him that Harry was now going to grow up in Farlong’s homeworld—but he’s not telling where it is, nanny-nanny-boo-boo.  Note-worthy facts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—Lily’s love sacrifice has been changed from that to just some spectacular D&amp;D dice-throwing skilz—taught to Lily by Mr. Farlong himself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—There’s a chance that Lily now may not have known one Severus Snape at all, as Halcyon here has her living near Bristol in the south of England instead of in the industrial north.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—As a result, Dumbledore was apparently leaving Harry with the Dursleys for absolutely no reason, as he never said he thought it was love magic at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—Mr. Farlong is a complete jerk, canon characterization not withstanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—I recently discovered that Halcyon is essentially writing down his escapades in playing &lt;i&gt;Neverwinter Nights 2&lt;/i&gt;, just with Harry Potter and in fanfic form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typical, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, onto chapter two, where we actually see the end product of Farlong’s loving care!  Sands, you ready to go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: *whining*  When do I get to spork with Snape again?  I want him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: When he’s through recovering from that snakebite of his.  Now shut up about it and let’s go.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hells had come to the village of West Harbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Oh, good—does that mean it’s over?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: No—it means Harry has arrived on the scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Well, fuck.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ash drifted on the breeze like a black snow, born from fires that licked the moonlit sky above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: I wish fire and sky would stop having these extended make-out sessions—nobody wants to see you two going at it like a pair of horny teenagers!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sounds of battle – steel on steel,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —wool, perhaps?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the screams and pleadings of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —all those who have wronged the author.  Take that, Jimmy Gordon, for pant’sing him in high school!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the wounded and the dying, the roaring of magic unleashed – rang out around the hooded wizard,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Oh, good.  Now we get the cliché of the “dramatic unveiling” of our hero.  I get that quite enough with LotR Sues and their constant throwing back of their hoods to reveal they’ve got bewbies instead of pee-pees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: God&lt;i&gt;damn&lt;/i&gt;, that sounded so very, very wrong—I &lt;i&gt;love&lt;/i&gt; it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I get enough of reading more into my words than there really is from Hyde, Sands—you mind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I do, actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *scowls greatly*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a deafening cacophony that tore at his mind, threatening the concentration needed to work his Art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: (Nameless Wizard Who Is Quite Obviously Harry):  Goddammit, I am trying to paint here—do you know how much concentration is required to work with pastels in this light?!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shadow creatures had come in force and unexpectedly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *laughs—a lot*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *continues her scowling*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but their tactics were not those of an occupying army, nor of bandit raiders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Yeah, they just turned off the lights—shadow creatures tended to do that.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The creatures were searching for something, and the wizard with tattooed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —skin because, like, tattoos make you totally manly and draw attention away from the fact that you’ve never touched a woman, make the saints cry, and have a penis the size of a shelled peanut—&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arcs of power running over his head would be damned if he would let them have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: (Nameless Wizard Who Is Obviously Harry):  As if I’d give you my D&amp;D deck—years of work building it up to be the greatest set ever shall now assist me in warding off your pathetic attacks!  &lt;i&gt;Role for initiative!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, had to bring in a little Penny-Arcade while I was at it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a sudden lull in the fighting; the shadows broke away from the wizard, swirling to the edges of the town square like leaves in the autumn wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: (Shadows):  We’re going home—it’s not fun anymore.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were waiting for something. The wizard steeled himself and gritted his teeth while he&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —diligently bent over and grabbed his ankles while Halcyon cackled behind him with a Keyboard—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: So wrong, but SO accurate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Why, thank you.  I do try.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;invoked potent spells of protection. Shadows thrown by burning farmsteads danced madly across the green,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: …green?  I never heard about anything that was green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Maybe it’s his eyes?  They’re green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Quiet—we’re not supposed to know it’s Harry having a prophetic dream about his own awesomeness.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slowly coming together and merging into an inky black pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pool of shadow rose up, resolving into a gaunt, humanoid figure taller than the houses of West Harbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: (Shadow):  Now you shall deal with &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt;, oh Prince, and all the powers of HELL!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Three cheers for the sexiest Disney villain ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS STUFF???!!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An air of icy malevolence,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Dude, it &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; Maleficent!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Well, then this wanker doesn’t have a chance—he’s too &lt;i&gt;good&lt;/i&gt; for Fairy Godparents, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I look forward to it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the charnel stink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: *mockingly*  Ooooo—check it out, Sands, Halcyon can use Thesaurus.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: How impressive.  I’m gonna drink now.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of an open grave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: &lt;i&gt;The funk of forty thousand years!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a winter morning,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *snorts*  &lt;i&gt;Winter&lt;/i&gt; morning?  Oh, please.  Everyone knows that the time an open grave is a bad thing is the &lt;i&gt;summer&lt;/i&gt;.  Ever smelled an open grave in the summer?  Or left a body in your trunk for two days in summer—&lt;i&gt;Mexico’s&lt;/i&gt; summer, I might add?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hung about the creature as it turned its burning eyes to the wizard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: If that’s a balrog, I’m officially out.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no sound as the creature struck – no roar of challenge, no hiss of breath, even the crunch of feet on grass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: In other words, it was very boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Only &lt;i&gt;2001: A Space Odyssey&lt;/i&gt; could get away with muting the movie, Mister.  You are not Stanley Kubrick, so you aren’t allowed to mute your fic.  Stop that immediately.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blades of pure, black shadow melted from the giant’s hands, formed out of the nothingness of the Plane of Shadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: It’s Freddy Krueger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *snarling*  And if you’re not careful, he’s gonna show up and emulsify your sorry ass!  Stop &lt;i&gt;doing&lt;/i&gt; that!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That blade arced toward the wizard’s head in a strike swifter than a snakebite,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: *raised eyebrow*  I wasn’t aware that snakebites were very fast.  Actually, I thought they were fairly stationary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Yeah—look at Snape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: You know, I wouldn’t bring that up with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I’m trying to decide if pissing him off that much would better or worsen my chances of getting under his robes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *doesn’t even bother*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;only to strike hard and rebound from a sword of glittering silver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Excellent.  Let’s give Harry &lt;i&gt;more&lt;/i&gt; specialty D&amp;D items.  He already owns everything needed to be virtually invincible, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Nothing worse than a cheat-code wielding gamer who wants to parade about through a fanon universe and get revenge upon all those who wronged him through writing.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wizard’s blade shone like moonlight and rippled as though it were made from liquid mercury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: I really don’t think a melting sword is very effective.  And isn’t mercury, you know, always liquid?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Nah, it’s just a metaphor.  Look—his sword is going limp.  Eh, eh?  You read Chaucer, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *sighs*  Either way, Sands, it’s just Halcyon playing the game.  Hell, he was probably playing it as he wrote this, and just basing it off of what he was doing.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shadows shrieked and recoiled from its light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: (Shadows):  Oh my &lt;i&gt;GAWD&lt;/i&gt;, it’s so &lt;i&gt;TACKY&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the shadowy giant seemed taken aback by the blade,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Taken aback, as in it was thinking, “Um, what was that supposed to do?”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the wizard took advantage of the opportunity to launch a vicious counterattack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: And so he began to dance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Sing, more likely—I’m sure his cracking voice and hideously off-tune notes will make any creature, no matter how vile, shrivel up and die within three bars.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Violet sparks flashed where the blades connected, and the battle began in earnest,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: The battle of the fruits, apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Now, now, Sands—don’t insult gay people by trying to drag them into this.  They deserve better.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dancing silver clashing with shifting black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Purple-prose versus showing-off text.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arcane fire seared the night,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Well, call out the Arcane fire brigade!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;only to be absorbed by absolute emptiness of the shadowy giant’s form. Wizard and creature dueled across the breadth of the charred remains of the village,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: I always loved shows and movies that did shit like this.  The village has been razed, Harry doesn’t know if there are any survivors, but he’s gonna stomp all over it in his effort to kill whatever this thing is (don’t know the canon that well, but I really, really doubt that’s Voldemort—he was resorted to the “Things to Do When I Have the Time” list Harry looks back on every once in a while in the “Ancient’s Story”) and kill any survivors there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: It’s for the greater good, after all.  The mighty Pickleman agrees.  By the way, I’m fairly positive he’s talking about the King of Shadows.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;neither able to gain the advantage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Well, then they both suck.  Come on, Halcyon—pull out a cheat code already and end this mess!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the tide of battle carried them towards the western edge of the green,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: There it is again!  Where the hell is there supposed to be green?!  It’s winter!  Is he referring to a golf course, or something?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: If that’s it, I hope Harry has Tiger Woods in his deck.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a single sound rose out of the din of battle:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: And then the word battle picked up its skirts and ran away, tired of being so over-used.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a high, reedy noise, the unmistakable cry of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —canon.  “No more!” it wailed miserably.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an infant. For just a heartbeat’s time, the wizard’s eyes broke away from his opponent, darting across the chaos of the battlefield to find the source of the cry. There – a mother and her child,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —conveniently alive and unharmed so Harry can have a distraction and then somehow come back and save the day!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;crouched behind the half-smashed rubble of what had once been the village headman’s home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: And Harry is probably the one who killed the headman in his heroic battle of the big giant shadow.  Well done.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother’s eyes, wide and bright with terrified grief, met the wizards’s in a silent plea for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: (Pointless Lady):  Would you mind stopping your battle with that big thing and help me put out the fire in my house?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: What the hell did she think he was doing?!  He &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; helping, you stupid bint!  He’s trying to kill this thing so it’ll stop eating your village!  Dumb bitch.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was only a moment, a brief instant of human contact in the midst of a duel to the death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: What’s this?  Ha!  As if I’d believe that, Halcyon—all your characters have no regard for human life, so long as they get their way and look good doing it.  You’re just doing this for drama and I know it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *scoffs*  There’s no such thing as too long!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shadowy giant’s blade struck so swiftly it scarcely seemed to cross the intervening space. The wizard desperately brought the silver sword up in a parry, but his focus had been shaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: So, let me get this straight, Halcyon.  It’s not a flaw when your version of Harry shows a tiny bit of compassion for human life and concern for a baby’s survival, but the &lt;i&gt;real&lt;/i&gt; Harry is an idiot because he shows compassion for human life and concern for basically &lt;i&gt;everyone’s&lt;/i&gt; survival?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: The difference being this version of Harry was “created” by the author, which makes him automatically better, as the author is the greatest author to ever live and you will bow before him and his skill and review him accordingly or there will be whippings, damn you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Well, good to get that cleared up, anyway.  *sighs irritably*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bereft of the focusing power of the mage’s will, the silver sword began to crack, jagged lines of light spider-webbing across its surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Oh, great, now he’s bringing &lt;i&gt;Spider-Man&lt;/i&gt; into his fic—as if he needs more super-powers and fandoms!  Leave Peter Parker alone, he’s my second favorite super-hero!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Who’s the first?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Nananananananana-Nananananananana—BATMAN!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wizard desperately poured his arcane power into the blade, but to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: (Harry):  Noooo!!!  I accidentally typed “dm_dog” instead of “dm_god!”  DAMN YOU, DYSLEXIA!!!  *is smote*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shadow giant’s eyes glowed with triumph as the silver sword shattered into a dozen pieces, its pure, clear light winking out like a snuffed candle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Harry, your staff is broken.  Grima, get in there and slit this bastard’s throat.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The force of the blow was also such that the pieces were sent flying in every direction. In the silence that followed, the child wailed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Ah yes, and there’s another cliché that Halcyon wanted to use—it’s always the crying baby, to emphasize loss.  *would roll his eyes, but…you know*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it seemed that there would be a consequence to the sword’s destruction…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Yeah, you have to start the level over.  Hope you saved, Harry.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the exact spot where the sword was destroyed an unearthly bright light sprang into existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: (White Light):  This is God.  I’ve reviewed it with a committee, and I’m going to incinerate this fic for the good of the Universe.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shadowy giant was distracted from his satisfied perusal of the fallen wizard’s form&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Aww, hell—Necromancy does not mean necrophilia, you sick fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *is appalled*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as the light expanded in brilliance over a thousandfold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: The birth of a sun is always a nice thing to hear about, isn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I think it’s nice to watch, personally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: *bites*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it expanded in a massive implosion and subsequent explosion of power and force that blinded every single fighter still standing on the battlefield,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Huh—he really &lt;i&gt;did&lt;/i&gt; cast magic missile at the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I didn’t know you could even &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; that.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it’s strength was such that it lifted those closest to it in the air and flung them about as if slung from a catapult and the world was consumed with white light…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Uh, did Harry just nuke Neverwinter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I really think he did.  Good riddance.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…the dream ended, Harry Potter sat up in his tangled bedsheets with a gasp of air, his hand darting towards his&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *opens his mouth*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: NO.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quarterstaff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *smug*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Dammit.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;automatically from where it leaned against the head of his bedframe. Intelligence and reason returned to him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: “Returned” implies he ever had any.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a moment after his calloused hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Oh, so his hand is mean, huh?  Do you &lt;i&gt;any&lt;/i&gt; idea how much I hate that??!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;closed around the comforting weight of the weapon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Well.  I see he didn’t waste any time with the whole, “I’m only comfortable if I have my weapons with me to provide me with an advantage over all I survey” credo he’s so very fond of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: There is nothing wrong with feeling uncomfortable without a gun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I don’t see how you feel comfortable at all with where you tend to store &lt;i&gt;your&lt;/i&gt; guns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Once they warm up, the rubbing is actually quite pleasant.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His hand retreated from the staff and wiped the cold sweat that the nightmare had seen fit to deposit on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Ahahaha—I could say so much about that right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: You could, but you won’t.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He flung his covers off and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —the cold air immediately made his wang retreat to the warmth of his asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *stonily*  Speaking from experience, are we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: *smacks her*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stood to grab a cloth from the washpan on his study desk and run it over his exposed torso as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: “As well?”  What was he running it over before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: His dick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *wryly*  How straightforward you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: It’s the best approach, really.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was one accustomed to toil and strain from farm work, hunting and the training his foster father had given him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: And his ass was accustomed to the regular spankings his foster father had given him, as well as the regular—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I think you’ve said quite enough, Sands.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satisfied that he was dry as he could get&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Don’t let that thing air-dry, you idiot!  Shrinkage!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despite the damp air of West Harbor he headed over to his chest, which&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —he kept separate from the rest of his body so he could admire its manliness.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;contained most of his clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it was the day of the Fair he decided to go about dressed as the wizard that he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Pah—he’d dress like that anyway, just to show off and cow people into doing whatever he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: He’s like alcoholics who only drink to things like, say, lint.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He put on dark purple trousers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *lisping*  He’s not just &lt;i&gt;any&lt;/i&gt; wizard, mind—he’s &lt;i&gt;fabulous&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with durable calf length leather boots, and after a white undertunic he took the ornate purple half-robes and fastened them around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Purple really isn’t your color, Harry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Draco thinks so.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The half-robes were called as such because they were&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —a little Liberace cape the Pumaman would be envious of.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;open to the front of the legs,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Pardon me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I think he’s saying it has a flap for easy access.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;allowing much more ease of moment than the more traditional full robes the wizards in the city tended to wear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Ah, in other words, he’s doing it so he can stand out from the rest of them, because, after all, he’s paranoid and thinks he has to be ready for battle at a moment’s notice at all times.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry’s half-robes were very nicely tailored, with ornate patterns on them written in Elvish;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: One of them, for instance, said, “Live Long and Prosper.”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they were a gift from Harry’s master of the Arcane, the wizard Tarmas, for having completed his novitiate training and gaining&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —a nice wimple for his efforts.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the title of Journeyman,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *flatly*  Journeyman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Yeah…Halcyon feels the need to give all of his characters titles, whether they be original or made up (which actually has yet to happen—I haven’t seen an original character of his that isn’t in some way based off of someone else’s characters).  Harold the Lost for “Banished,” Harold the Black for “Sanctuary of Arda,” Druidess Padraigin for Rose Potter, Ambassador Harry for “An Ancient’s Story…”  It makes him feel important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Well, here’s Halcyon’s title:  “Scrotal Rash.”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on his eighteenth birthday. That was barely three days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tucked and straightened his clothes and after tying his long black hair together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Together?  He tied his hair &lt;i&gt;together&lt;/i&gt;?  How many wigs does he wear at a time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: He also really likes his characters to have long hair—I think it’s a Fruedian thing.  Looks like we’re settling into a typical Halcyon fic.  *yawns*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;proceeded to head out of his room and into the main living area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was there that he found his foster father,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Oh.  It’s him.  What’s new in the hollow tree, ya freak?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;staring contemplatively into the fire from the hearth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: He’s staring at the fire &lt;i&gt;from&lt;/i&gt; the hearth?!  Isn’t that dangerous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I say he stays there.  Let’s baste him.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, you’re up and dressed I see,” said Daeghun solemnly, turning to face Harry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Since Harry waking up and getting dressed in the morning is such a solemn event, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Nah—facing Harry is a solemn event.  It means you have to look at him.  That’s pretty damned somber.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Good morning, father,” greeted Harry with a nod, it was always odd to him to have to look down to Daeghun,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —seeing as Daeghun usually had Harry on his knees instead—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Don’t say that, because the author gets off on having his characters look down at everybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Actually, I think that makes my comment all the better.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despite the fact that he towered over his father, the old elf could easily trounce anyone he fought hand to hand with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: What about cock to cock?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I don’t think anybody in this fic could win that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Then it’s a sure victory for me!  I’m all for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Some victory—don’t you think that’s a little unfair?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Perhaps you don’t remember my speech about the matador and the bull.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Yeah, yeah, whatever.  Either way, the run-ons are about to smother me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“With today, being the day of the Fair,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: The Fair of Unnecessary and Excessive Commas, perhaps?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the Village council requires me to man the archery competition,” said Daeghun,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Maid Marian will be so pleased.  So will I, if she’s there.  Rawr—foxy lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: …I think I may have to kill you for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Please do—I’d rather be dead than spork one more fic with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Well, then, I’ll keep you alive and keep throwing fics at you.  But I won’t throw you in the briar patch.  And if you don’t shape up, I won’t bring you around when Snape’s back.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though it was hard for anyone who didn’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —have more than a few braincells—&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;know him, Harry could hear the irritation veiled in the tone of his father’s speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Look, none of Halcyon’s characters, canon or no, ever bother to “veil” their irritation.  They let it out in great waves of arrogance and huffiness and exaggerated, “GAWD, YOU ALL ARE SO INFERIOR AND I’M SO MUCH BETTER.”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly standing around all day,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: As opposed to foggily standing around all day, I guess.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watching people make a mockery of the art of Archery did not appeal to the Wood Elf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *sneers*  And yet, you wish to remain modest.  Bravo.  Well done indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Well, &lt;i&gt;Farlong&lt;/i&gt;, if you’re so much better than everyone else at Archery, why don’t you just say you were off communing with nature that day, and spare us this show of exasperation?  No one would miss you, if this is how you normally act.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The human need to celebrate remembrance days baffles me,” he said with a grumble,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: That’s because you aren’t human, you little dipshit.  We don’t get to cavort about for all time and steal babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: If it baffles him so much, why doesn’t he just &lt;i&gt;ask&lt;/i&gt;, instead of immediately deeming it stupid and below him and stand around telling everybody how much they suck and how he’s better?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“but something productive may come of it, the merchant Galen has come because of it, and he’ll want my stock of furs.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: In other words, he’s not only an arrogant little sawed-off lizard, he’s also a &lt;i&gt;selfish&lt;/i&gt;, arrogant, sawed-off lizard.  That’s just peachy.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll try to negotiate a fair price,” stated Harry with a sigh,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Look—it’s another selfish, arrogant, sawed-off lizard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I vote we just throw red paint on him and his furs—just for the hell of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I tend to agree—claiming to be more in tune with nature than us nature-destroying, animal-killing humans and then parading about with armfuls of fur and wearing leather chaps every day doesn’t really fly with me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Galen was really the only Merchant worth the title&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE THE GREAT AND POWERFUL JUDGES OF ALL TRADES?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Because they are, by default, Halcyon, and he is God.  Smackdown on you, bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I’m so enlightened.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who made the trade run between the City of Neverwinter, West Harbor and everything in between. But the man was as thrifty as a Rogue,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Yeah—that’s the way you get ahead in the Merchant trade.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it was a near constant battle with him to get reasonable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —head—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Why, Mervin, I’m proud of you.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fair prices for the furs that Daeghun hunted and produced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Now that’s something I simply don’t approve of—hunting furries is &lt;i&gt;wrong&lt;/i&gt;.  And it’s even more wrong that he first hunts and kills them, then goes out and advocates them and converts more so he can hunt them, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Relax, he’s not hunting furries.  It’s just Halcyon assuming that “furs” and “animals” are interchangeable words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt;.  It’s called &lt;i&gt;sarcasm&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Harry helped occasionally when his studies permitted).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: (Halcyon!Harry):  Yes, father, I’ll help you as soon as I am done showing everyone what worms they are.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We won’t have to worry about that, this season,” said Daeghun, shaking his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: (Halcyon!Daeghun):  Why, you’ve advanced so far in your “studies” I’m sure you can force him to give you double the price by just flashing your eyes angrily at him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I tend to think he’s gonna use all these excess commas as throwing stars and just kill him—like a ninja.  Because, after all, I’m sure Harry here is some form of ninja.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Last year I organized a straight trade. You give him the furs and he’ll give you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: (Halcyon!Daeghun):  —one &lt;i&gt;hell&lt;/i&gt; of a good blowjob.  If he thinks the furs are good enough, he’ll throw in an ass-wax while he’s at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *turns green*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a Duskwood Bow.” Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. Duskwood Bows were technically illegal in the Kingdom of Neverwinter,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: But Daeghun and Harry have the author on their side, and petty rules won’t stop &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; from doing whatever he wants.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since the wood they were made from came from an ancient forest that technically fell under the jurisdiction of the Luskan City State; sworn enemies of Neverwinter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Okay, so it’s illegal—why does he want it, why are they so illegal (is it like Cuban cigars in the US, does the wood have dangerous magical properties, what?), and what happens if he’s caught with it?  You wanna explain that to us, Halcyon, or just throw it out there to show how badass your version of Daeghun is because he owns contraband?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: I suspect the latter, myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Sadly, so do I.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Now, if you’ll excuse me, my son, I have to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —potty.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and see to the Fair.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Yes, since they just can’t survive without you.  *spits in the general direction of the fic*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daeghun gave Harry a brief half-hug and walked out of the small, but warm home that he had lived in for the past eighteen years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: The general impression I’m getting is that Harry has been living in a hobbit hole for eighteen years (never mind that he just turned eighteen and was kidnapped at age one, and, if the author had had the ability to do simple subtraction, he would’ve written &lt;i&gt;seventeen&lt;/i&gt; years).  *scans ahead*  Uh-oh.  Time for a classic Halcyon infodump!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: *puts on a pith helmet*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interior was basic, and only a few portraits and luxuries gained from Daeghun’s own adventuring days littered the home. The most prominent of which was a portrait of a regal she-elf, that looked down from over the mantelpiece, Daeghun's late wife. Harry had never known a mother, neither his foster, nor his birthmother. At least according to Daeghun, his birthmother had died when he was barely a year old, and not six months later, the Battle of West Harbor claimed his fostermother. It almost made him think a curse was upon him, that any woman who claimed to be a mother to him, would meet death. It was an irrational thought, but it was there nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *brightly*  Thank you so much for that interlude!  When do I get to tell a story?  I’ve got some great ones that would provide excellent exposition about my tragic and extremely awesome life.  In any case, they’d probably be more exciting than this dreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *bitterly*  I &lt;i&gt;hate&lt;/i&gt; pointless infodumps!  Why can’t we find this out through the &lt;i&gt;course&lt;/i&gt; of the fic, instead of stopping all action and then telling us all about it?!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He walked out of the small house and into the sunny, yet damp day. West Harbor was a small village of about twenty-eight houses and farmsteads clustered together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: I get the impression that Halcyon is now typing out some descriptions he found in the walkthrough he downloaded off of the internet in order to win Neverwinter Nights 2 without trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *indignantly*  There is nothing wrong with walkthroughs and cheat codes!  I should know, I use them all the time.  What’s wrong with him using them &lt;i&gt;here&lt;/i&gt; is because he seems to think that you don’t sacrifice any of the plot or tension when you use the things.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small river flowed through the middle of it, that required a bridge to connect the two halves of the village together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Along with an unnecessary comma.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The swampy trees bordered the village in all directions, bar for the small road that led to the High Road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —which in turn leads to the Low Road, and I’ll be in Scotland afore ye—where I will hopefully lose you, because I don’t wanna see you again.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the Mere of Dead Men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —where I pushed this asshat in and cackled madly as he drowned.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(aptly called that for it was the center of the Battle of West Harbor and the number of dead soldiers that was still festering in the muggy water was something nobody cared to speculate at).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Well, I usually don’t speculate &lt;i&gt;at&lt;/i&gt; things anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Good &lt;i&gt;God&lt;/i&gt;, I would not want to live there—the smell in the summer must be hideous, all those dead bodies rotting in the middle of a bog?  Disgusting.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The village was alive with the sounds of people gathering, chatting, talking and of music being played by the local bards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Wait, when did we even get to the village?!  Harry had just walked out the door to deliver his stunning monologue about the village!  We didn’t hear anything about him walking to it!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was as Harry approached the Bridge that his two best friends in the village intercepted him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Best friends…locked on target…firing missiles!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy and Bevil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Who are so integral to the story that they require a separate fragment to announce them, despite the fact that, after this section, we pretty much forget about them.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy he had befriended as a young girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *raises eyebrows before bursting into raucous laughter*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *giggles inanely*  Well, go Harry!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who had eventually joined him as an apprentice to Tarmas when it was discovered she had&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —a vagina.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the capability to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —make a decent sandwich.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;become a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —midget.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mage. She was now an exuberant young woman who had a great gift for Transmutation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: See?  I was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: You were not.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bevill on the other hand was the eldest son to the Starling family,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: As opposed to the Sparrow family.  *puffs up*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I know where you’re going with that, Sands, and I’m stepping on you right now.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the ‘richest’ farmers in the Village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Let’s douse him with red paint and hope he gets eaten by a monster.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He, however, had no interest in tending to tilled fields,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: I read that wrong and though it said “titted” fields.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Where can I get me some titted fields?!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but had picked up the blade and learned it well,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Meaning he’s an experienced emo with the ultimate MySpace page?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;getting instruction from Daeghun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: *grumpily*  What makes him so great, anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: The author thinks he’s great because he’s immortal, so he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Halcyon would be perfectly fine with his own personal Horcrux, I think.  I mean, sure, he’d have to kill someone to do it, but hey!  It’s for his own personal greater good!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and anybody else in the village who had any skill to impart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Meaning Harry.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word was he was trying to convince his mother to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: *coughs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: NO.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;allow him to join one of the Neverwinter City armies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Aaaaand I’m gonna skip this next part.  It’s boring, it basically proves that Harry’s “declaration that he was a wizard” by wearing those fruity clothes was just him dressing up to role play for some kind of RenFest, and just more awkward dialogue about a) how great Harry is, b) how these two people think Harry is so great, c) how Harry’s mentor thinks Harry is so great and how much the other two suck and should try to be more like Harry, and d) how great Harry thinks Harry is and how much everybody else sucks.  They’re going on about some kind of Harvest Cup, and how everyone wants to compete.  There’s mention of blight on the crops, and Harry brings up druids (*snarls and foams out of sheer principle*).  However, from what I can tell?  It doesn’t have any bearing whatsoever on the story other than to emphasize the above mentioned A-D, because he doesn’t even show the Fair.  The scene ends awkwardly and abruptly, and suddenly we’re back in London.  It’s like Halcyon decided to write it later, like some people do, but then just forgot to do it in the first place.  I’m not complaining, though—I know what it would’ve been like.  Here, I’ll write in a small, summed-up scene for Halcyon, since he couldn’t be bothered to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry: Man, they suck.  Of course, everybody sucks compared to me, though—I should give them a break.  I win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There!  That’s what the Fair would’ve been like, had Halcyon decided to write it.  So, other than foreshadowing disease to the land of Neverwinter, this scene was pretty much pointless.  Moving on.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;30th July, 1991, Realm of Earth. England, London&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Wait, wait, wait—read that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *does so*  What is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: *scratches his stubble*  July 30th—didn’t Halcyon say Harry’s birthday had been a few days ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: *blinks*  Huh.  Harry turned eighteen before it happened.  That’s pretty damned impressive.  Not to mention that England is apparently a town in the country of London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: *assumes the arrogant voice of the author—which isn’t too much different from his normal arrogant voice, really*  &lt;i&gt;Duh&lt;/i&gt;, Mervin—I already explained that in chapter one.  “Time behaves differently across the planes.”  Because you forgot the previous tidbits of information that I deigned to bestow upon your lesser mind, you have no right to criticize my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I’m sorry to say that you’re probably right.  He would say that.  But Halcyon?  “Time behaves differently across the planes” is nothing more than a &lt;i&gt;deux ex machine&lt;/i&gt; to cover up your mistakes in the time line, as well as making Harry fully-grown and completely mature so he’s &lt;i&gt;slightly&lt;/i&gt; more realistic as a mad-crazy uber-warrior and supergenius at eighteen rather than age ten (as he usually is in your stories) when he goes and shows off how great he is at solving mysteries at Hogwarts.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The massive hustle and bustle of early morning rush hour in the London Underground was a cacophony unlike anything they had ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: And I’d like to step in and say that’s probably the best sentence I’ve ever seen Halcyon write so far.  I would say well done, but, knowing him, he probably stole it.  So I’ll say well done to whoever wrote that.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sheer size and scope of the city made Neverwinter seem like a country hamlet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Why not a country riblet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: I should smack you for that, and I would if I wasn’t thinking “spiral-cut country hamlet” myself.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mechanical craftsmanship on display would be enough to baffle even the cleverest of dwarven smiths,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Aww, damn, now I have the image of Harry as Ash from &lt;i&gt;Army of Darkness&lt;/i&gt;, chin and all, marching up to the dwarves with a chainsaw and a shotgun.  “This is my BOOMSTICK!!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Yeah, except his condescension wouldn’t be funny at all—it’d be annoying and make me want to let one of those fake Necronomicons eat him.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as the conveyances that carried people headed back and forth. The dress of the people was strange, minimal yet practical,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: YOU KNOW, THERE ARE SOME WOMEN WHO LIKE TO WEAR MORE THAN JUST THE MINIMUM REQUIREMENT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Well, they aren’t worth mentioning—not when there are boobies.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and very intricate that no weaver could hope to match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: In other words, Harry really should’ve grown up here because he wouldn’t have to wear fifty layers of purple robes in order to look dignified.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bright-multicolored lights advertising everything from merchant wares to the latest entertainment offerings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands:  PORN!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;were dazzling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Well, here’s to hoping that Harry has epilepsy.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High in the sky overhead flew more mechanical conveyances, carrying people at even greater speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Oh, are they?  And how would you know what an airplane is carrying, Harry?  How would you even know an airplane is a mode of transportation?!  You’ve been campaigning in WoW for 18 years!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city was like a bustling organism and three of the people in it clearly did not look like they belonged within it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Excellent of you to point that out, Halcyon!  That’s my cue to kick them out.   *does so*  Get out, and don’t come back—this canon doesn’t need you, nor does it want you.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet no one took cognizance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: *drums fingers*  Halcyon, a verb is a verb, an adjective is an adjective, a noun is a noun, and an adverb is an adverb.  They are not interchangeable, no matter how smart you think it makes you look.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of the three hooded and cloaked figures standing off to one side of the Underground station platform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: —plotting how they were going to kill every last one of these worthless, useless Muggles.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone tried to get a good look though, they would simply find their eyes sliding over them, unable to focus properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: For once, I consider myself lucky that I can’t see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: And for once, I envy you and your sightlessness.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If one was to see them, they would see the tallest of the three figures hugging a smaller, clearly female figure to himself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: OH BOY.  Look, it’s the obligatory love interest.  *sighs*  I’ll wait until this little bitch is formally introduced before going on my rant of what is wrong with every last one of Halcyon’s obligatory love interests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: Thank you.  I don’t think I could take another one of your rants without more tequila in my veins.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whilst the remaining cloaked figure simply stood to one side; and who seemed more at ease with the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Knock it off, you pustule—you ain’t from around here, don’t act like you know how it works.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sharing your&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: —bed—&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;memories of this place hardly seems adequate preparation for the true experience of it,” said the taller of the pair that was hugging each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Well, they can &lt;i&gt;stop&lt;/i&gt; hugging each other now, because I’m getting tired of hearing about it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sound of the bustling station did not seem to bother them for some reason, maybe it was because no sound reached them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: Well, maybe!  Unfortunately, we just don’t know—because the author won’t &lt;i&gt;tell&lt;/i&gt; us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mervin: Halcyon believes firmly that what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sands: *pushes his shades down*  Uh, yeah—it does.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It is quite overwhelming,” agreed the hooded&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands:  —monster?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man. “No amount of words or pale shades of memories can prepare you for the nature of this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Unfortunately, “this place” has nothing to do with where you guys are supposed to be going, so why are we taking so much time to look at it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man has advanced himself greatly here, primarily by exploring and understanding the physical laws of the Universe,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mervin: Not to mention snacks!  Mmm…Twinkies…&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and adapting machinery to take advantage of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sands: In short, my arsenal I have stored under my bed could turn you pathetic little cocksuckers into hamburger before you could even throw your twenty-sided dice down to &lt;i&gt;cast&lt;/i&gt; Magic Missile.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s actually a form of the Arcane in its