3.11 Hasta la Vista

ALMOST THERE, GUYS! I’ve been sorting my screenshots and this should be approximately the third-to-last chapter of Generation Three. Then I get to throw out an heir poll and let you do my dirty work for me. ‘Til then, it’s Langurds all day err’day. Well, that and scanning all day err’day. My nostrils are haunted by the scent of centuries-old onionskin paper and I want to type “.pdf” at the end of every sentence. Somebody help me.pdf

What was I just saying about how I wanted more Tewl visits?

Katana: Gtfo, you’re scaring my babies.

Tewl: But I’m bein’ all scholarly an’ shit!

3.2 Gung Ho

gung ho [guhng-hoh] – adj.: extremely enthusiastic and enterprising, sometimes to excess. Adopted by US marines from Chinese Pidgin English.

This is my life lately. Why, only today I am “enterprising” to sew a dress, clean my room, do laundry, write four French assignments, and caption these 100-odd screenshots.

Not only that, but this chapter is so ambitious that the only other apt title would be “Five Birthdays, Three Life-Threatening Experiences, Two Destinies Fulfilled, Two Graduations, Two Kind-of Deaths, a Birth, a Party, an Abandonment, and a Wedding.”

Having read that description, you can probably just skip the chapter. But please don’t. I put my blood and tears into these things.

We begin with a father-daughter trip to China, undertaken by each party with a heavy heart.

Razor: O great spirit of Sim-Fu, grant me the strength to defeat the Abitar without glitching into oblivion.

Katana: Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou— Just kidding, I’m only upset about being outside.

2.8 Journey to the Fire Nation

Hell yes, that’s an Avatar reference. My brother has me back in the habit of watching morning cartoons, so I’ve been getting through two episodes on Netflix every day while I eat my dinosaur egg oatmeal.

I’m off to teach kids how to play Quidditch in an hour or so, but we’ll see how much of this I can get through in the meantime.

(My life isn’t always this awesome, I swear.)

Looks like these losers have been living it up pretty good, too. Lots of slacking off and childish games and shit.

Tommy: Dad, we’ve been at this all day. Can I please go to bed now?

Razor: No, son. I must train hard if I wish to be a martial arts master. And, uh, you may have to help me uncrick my neck.