Isn’t that the most accurate description of the Langurds you’ve ever heard?
For the record, if I get this chapter out by Tuesday, I’ll have done seven posts in two weeks. That might just qualify as a miracle.
Where were we? Oh yeah, still at university. For this whole chapter and like half of the next one. I’m sorry, but it can’t be helped when our bright young minds are keeping so busy!
Prof. Richards: You see, a corporation is like a colony of honeybees! Everyone has a task to do, but in the end you’ll just die among the flowers or with your butt stuck in the arm of a pesky human.
I can smell the sarcasm.
This is it! The generation that would not end is finally coming to a semi-close. I just want to thank everybody who’s been reading thus far for sticking with me. I know some of these chapters have been a trek due to my ridiculous verbosity, but I promise it will only get more enjoyable from here on out. And now I’ll stop acting like we’ve finished the goddamn legacy and remind myself that this is only 10% complete, and we’ve still got eight more generations of Langurds to birth and thousands of pictures to caption and ahhh, what have I gotten myself into??
Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we? With all the kids sprouted into gangly hormonal teenagery things, the second gen Langurds were gearing up for the biggest night of their lives. PROM, bitches! Now let’s make a huge deal out of it even though it will only end in deflation, rejection, and disillusionment.
As the sun crested over the hills of Sunset Valley and evening began to approach, even the family gnome was getting into the spirit. Yeah, I still don’t know his name because my game hates me right now. For now I’m calling him George after George R. R. Martin because let’s be honest, there’s a pretty solid resemblance there.
George: I WILL KILL EVERYTHING YOU LOVE… AND DANCE ON ITS GRAVE
I hope he will have many gnome descendants.