Most of you readers probably know that Xbox360, the highly-anticipated successor to the Xbox developed by Microsoft, has already been released for retail a few weeks ago in the United States while the rest of the world will have to wait for the coming December or early in 2006. The gaming rig, armed with advanced processing power, cutting-edge Radeon graphics, sleek new design and a spanking list of 20 new titles for the launch, will face fierce competition when Sony and Nintendo, two of the biggest names in console development, releases their next-generation console systems, the Playstation 3 and the Nintendo Revolution respectively, with both of them scheduled for release in mid 2006.

As a veteran and hard core gamer, I feel that a momentous occasion such as the release of Xbox360 serves as a footnote in gaming history, as Microsoft’s C.E.O and Chairman Bill Gates is poised to turn the Xbox line of consoles into a household name while trying to dethrone the all powerful Sony Corp and, at the same time, chisel away the old school Nintendo Ltd out of the competition. As an accomplished journalist, I, Raysheadth Roseland, took some pains to conduct an interview with none other than the multi-billionaire Bill Gates himself to discuss the future and opportunity for the Xbox360.

ME: Thank you, Mr. Gates, for taking some time out of your busy schedule to sit with us for this interview.

BILL GATES: We’re chatting on MSN Messenger, Mr. Roseland.

ME: I know that. I just like to imagine myself being in the host of a popular talk show, sitting on a nice comfy sofa on a stage set with a live audience cheering in front of me, so please bear with me. Oh, and by the way, please don’t call me by my last name; I’d rather you call me Mr. Raysheadth instead.

BILL GATES: Oooohkay…

ME: I’m glad that you understand, Mr. Gates. Please, by all means, have a sip of Mochachinno on the table next to you.

BILL GATES: …

ME: …

BILL GATES: …

ME: Ehem, so Mr. Gates…if there is only one question in the world that I could ask of you, then it would either be if there is any way I can be as filthy rich as you are or whether or not the Windows OS was coded by Satan. But since such unprofessional questions would be extremely offensive to you, I’m left with this query: What are your thoughts on the recently-released Xbox360? Any expectations?

BILL GATES: Well, I can’t tell you my secret to become a multi-zillionaire like I am, and I can’t reveal to you the details and intricacies behind the development of WindowsXP, although your accusation of it being programmed by Satan was surprisingly close. But I can tell you this, Mr. Raysheadth – Xbox360 is the future, and you should have no doubt about it. We’ve worked so hard to push the boundaries of console technology with the Xbox360. In fact, we’ve even gone so far as to chain the ankles of our Research & Development team, lock them inside the computer lab, and forced them to work their asses off 24-7 under extreme scrutiny, and if any one of the members has the gall to doze off or day dream, then a huge man wearing a LOTR Balrog suit will suddenly appear in front of the poor fool and, with his fiery whip, mercilessly lashes his back like the pitiful slave that he is.

ME: Interesting. I guess morale-boosting techniques in the corporate world have changed a lot these days. Please, do elaborate more on what you meant by the Xbox360 being the future of console gaming. What sort of opportunity and promise does the console hold that would change the console gaming market which, for the last two decades, have been in the tight grip of several Japanese-based electronic companies such as Sony, Nintendo and the now defunct Sega?

BILL GATES: Well, Mr. Raysheadth, to tell you the truth, when I first hatched an idea about an all-American gaming console, I never knew that the system would go so far as to rival the PS or even the Gamecube. But thanks to the Halo series, we’ve finally built a foothold for our expansion into the gaming market, and we’re expanding our frontlines with Xbox360. As we speak, my PR team is working hard with my lawyers to find a lopehole in the judicial system which somehow states that it is illegal for a a family in a household to own any other console besides the Xbox360, and that each person who is 18 or above is required by law to buy at least one copy of any of the Halo titles.

ME: Quite an interesting perspective you have there. No doubt that Halo was one of the important titles that had catapulted the original Xbox among the ranks of the big players and made Xbox into a household name. But with Halo 3 still in development and won’t turn gold until mid next year, what kind of strategy do you have in mind to rope in the millions of gamers who had bought the first Xbox just so that they could play Halo and it’s sequel Halo 2, which are by far the only two games worth playing among the sea of pathetic and underachieving crap titles such as Oddworld and Dead or Alive?

BILL GATES: Good question there, Mr. Raysheadth. You probably remembered how we’ve demonstrated the advanced technological capabilities of the Xbox360 in several pass press releases. What we didn’t show you in the demos was the fact that each Xbox360 machine has a built-in chip that locks into the brainwave pattern of any Xbox360 user, making anyone who so much as even touches the D-pad ends up being instantly hooked to the machine…for life, or at least until Xbox3 comes up.

ME: Er…a sound marketing plan. But, Mr. Gates…aren’t you worried that mind-influencing devices such as the afore-mentioned mind-locking chip would lead to outrage among several public entities including concerned parents, human-rights groups, international governments, and several terrorists organizations? As human beings with a sense of free will, you have to agree that most of us are a little bit unnerved about your idea of a chip that is basically digital marijuana on steroids.

BILL GATES: I sense your worries there, Mr. Raysheadth. Besides, I didn’t become the richest multi-kajillionaire on the planet by ignoring my customers, slave or otherwise. Here at Microsoft, we understand our customers more than they understand themselves, so we know exactly what’s good for them and what’s not. And what’s good for them is that they stay glued to the Xbox360 for the rest of their meaningless lives, only leaving the house just to buy the latest copy of Halo, continuing to feed my wealth into such an ineffable amount that I would be able to buy myself entire countries with a write of a check.

ME: Well, I should say that such a bold move requires extensive planning, not to mention a huge drain on your resources. It is a long shot, and if I am not mistaken, you are beginning to sound like a madman who is hell-bent on taking over the world. Would acts such as forcing people to play the Xbox360 beyond their will and ‘buying entire countries with a write of a check’ constitute to you bringing about a new world order under your supreme leadership?

BILL GATES: Precisely, my good man. I can see it, Mr. Raysheadth, I can see with clarity my future as Imperator Bill Gates, Lord of the Microsoft Empire, Sovereign of Humanity. We’ve already begun a project under the co-operation of several underground pharmaceutical organizations to develop a new type of synthetic humans. These humans will be able to accurately resemble anyone, right down to their DNA sub-structure, and we will send them to infiltrate into the highest ranks of government bodies and organizations by kidnapping real world leaders and replacing them with our puppet synths. As of now, we are nearly done with a prototype synth that resembles George W. Bush, and should be ready to ‘replace’ the President around mid 2006.

ME: Around mid 2006? As I recalled, that is the period of time which you will release the widely-anticipated Halo 3 for the Xbox360. Such an event would surely pull a lot of public attention, thus making the transition between the President and your ‘synth’ that much easier. Mr. Gates, I must say that I admire your brilliance. Since this meeting, I think I’ve begun to have a newfound respect for your wise decision-making and ruthlessness in striving for your goal, both being important characteristics for a cold-blooded despot.

BILL GATES: I’m glad you understood, Mr. Raysheadth., because you might as well kneel before me and kiss my foot as a sign of respect to your future dictator, for I am the future of humanity, and I shall hold a tight grip on the leash of mankind, and that grip will be cold and inhumane. As for those who would have the mettle to oppose my future new world order, we’ve begun an R&D project to create the most efficient and lethal cyborg warrior, codenamed Sentinel, with it’s AI code based on our latest Windows technology. Once the project is finished, we will mass-produce the Sentinels and send them to silence the rebellion. And when I mean silence, I mean that the streets will run red with the blood of the rebels, man woman and child, while their dead carcasses will be sent to bio-processing plants so that they can be processed to fuel the might of my machine-like empire. So says Imperator Bill Gates, Lord of the Microsoft Empire, Sovereign of Humanity.

ME: You shouldn’t count your eggs before they hatch, Mr. Gates. Despite your well-thought-out plans of world domination, there will always be that one person who you’ll forget to count upon, the heroic underdog who will throw a wrench into the cogs of your tyrannical rule. He will be nothing but a simple man; trapped in the wrong place at the wrong time, unsure of his fate, yet eventually he will realize his true destiny and stand stoically against all odds, battling his way through your relentless minions. In the end, he will rise up before you and, in the last climactic battle between the forces of good and evil, finally dethrone you of your unjust ways, thus starting a new golden age of freedom and enlightenment the likes of which has never happened before in the annals of humanity.

BILL GATES: We shall see about that, Mr. Raysheadth.

ME: Indeed, we shall, Mr. Gates.

BILL GATES: …

ME: …

BILL GATES: …

ME: Ehem … well that’s about it for this session. Again, many thanks to you, Mr. Gates for being here in this insightful interview regarding the future of Xbox360.

BILL GATES: You’re certainly welcome, Mr. Raysheadth. And…err, you still realize that this interview was purely conducted through MSN Messenger, right?

ME: Yeah, I know. What can I say … I love Larry King.

Ron Weasley took out a long and huge contraption, which seemed to be made out of several long cylindrical barrels with muzzles at one end, all strapped together by a belt. As soon as Ron initiated the trigger mechanism, the barrels started rotating rapidly, like a cog, and suddenly thunderous booms were heard as flares shot out from the muzzles of the barrels. Within seconds, the majestic unicorn that stood at the end of the field, peacefully munching on the grass, was instantly turned into a bloody carcass of a horse, with numerous gaping holes oozing out blood and various internal organs littered the already blood-smeared earth underneath the unicorn’s now lifeless body.

“Hah, I bet a hundred galleons that you can’t top that one Harry!” shouted Ron with arrogance, so confident that he will win the contest this time and sweep away the coveted prize of Skoozelbum whores.

Harry didn’t even flinch after witnessing such a spectacular performance from Ron’s monstrous machine. Ignoring Ron’s verbal abuse, Harry slowly kneeled down to unzip his huge duffel bag lying next to his feet. He then took out a contraption that seemed like a single long cylindrical barrel, much like Ron’s, except that it was of much superior size, with one end shaped like a metallic elongated mushroom. Harry firmly placed the contraption on his right shoulder, the mushroom end pointing forward, and carefully aimed the the thing towards the second unicorn. With a pull from a trigger, a huge mushroom-shaped head suddenly shot out from the end of cylinder. Its flaming back leaves a smoking trail as it approached in rapid speed towards the hapless pony. Once the object and pony reached contact, all the spectators closed their eyes and ears as a much thunderous sound was made accompanied by a large fiery explosion that blew up the unicorn into small flaming bits. Once the spectating crowds ceased to cover their ears and slowly opened their eyes, they were horrified to find themselves covered with bloody strips of burning flesh and smeared blood. One of the judges threw up after the charred remains of the intestinal part of the horse landed directly on the judges’ table.

“I guess you owe me 100 galleons Ron,” said Harry with a smirk on his face. ”Maybe better luck on next year’s Annual Hogwarts Unicorn Slaughtering Competition!”

* * * * *

After a long night of passionate love-making, Harry lighted a cigarette while Hermione was lying beside him in bed. Harry noticed an unpleasant look on her face, at the same time wondering what he had done wrong this time.

“Hermione,” Harry spoke, “I promise that Ron will not find out about this. Ron and I have been the best of friends, and as far as he knows, my frequent visits to your place are explainable with the excuse of studying Magic Calculus together. I assure you he won’t suspect a thing.”

That look still remained on her face as she turned away from Harry, lying on her side.

“Oh, Harry, it’s not about that,” she said in a slow voice, as if concealing a secret of some sort.

“Then what is the problem then, sugarplums? What, is it the sex? Was I too rough on you? You don’t like me smoking like this? For Pete’s sake, it’s hard for me to figure you out unless you tell me,” Harry replied in a sterner voice.

Hermione turned back facing Harry. Tears ran down from her supple cheeks to her firm, well rounded breasts.

“Harry,” Hermione spoke sheepishly, “this morning at the dorm I took a few pregnancy tests. And the…they…all of the tests…turned out to be...to be…you know…”

“What Hermione, turned out to be what?” Harry asked sternly while staring deeply into her blue eyes, as if he already knew the answer to that question.

“They all tested positive Harry…” replied Hermione. “I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with your child.”

Upon hearing this, Harry instantly got up from bed and started to walk back and forth in the room in an agitated way, his unfinished cigarette still held in hand as a moment of silence engulfed the room. The look of confusion and contempt on his face gave Hermione the feeling that this news won’t bode well with him.

“Hermione, dear,” Harry broke the silence. “You can’t have the baby. You have to go to the doctor first thing in the morning and get rid of it. I don’t need…”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, his left cheek was met with the flat surface of Hermione’s right hand as she angrily slapped his face.

“You heartless bastard,” Hermione cursed, her faced filled with scorn. “You slept in my bed every night Harry, EVERY NIGHT!! And now you think you can just walk away with this? Curse you Harry! Curse the very day you were born!”

Harry’s face turned red. Not because of the slap, but red with anger. In an instant, Harry raised his palm and struck down Hermione, who was already crying her eyes out for Harry’s irresponsibility. Hermione fell down to the corner of the room, the pain on her bruising left cheek surpassed only by the pain in her broken heart.

“Bitch,” Harry scorned. “I don’t need to deal with this shit right now. You had better get rid of the baby by tomorrow or else I’ll kill you, you understand that you worthless whore? I’LL FREAKIN’ KILL YOU!!”

“You won’t get away with this,” Hermione screamed at Harry. “I swear to Christ you won’t get away with this!!”

Harry then hastily puts on his clothes. He grabbed his Nimbus3000 broomstick, and with a wave from his magic wand, flew out of the window into the darkness of the night, leaving Hermione to deal with the conflict on her own…

* * * * *

The air in the room felt heavy. A glass of water stood untouched on the square table in the middle of the small room, with Miss McGonagall sitting on a chair at one side. Next to the glass was a file brought in by two interrogators. Both of them were in the room with her, one pacing back and forth in front of McGonagall as if to psyche her while the other stood with his back laid against the wall with crossed arms.

“Tell me Ms McGonagall,” the pacing interrogator started to talk. “Where were you during the night of 28th?”

“I was at my office doing overtime,” McGonagall replied. ”The stack of my students’ test papers was piling up high and I need to mark them before class session the next day.”

“Really?” said the interrogator with a smirk on his face. “So you’re saying that you have absolutely nothing to do with the murder of Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?

“My goodness, no” McGonagall replied defensively. “I’ve known the man ever since my first days of teaching in Hogwarts, and I have enormous respect for the old man for being the headmaster and at the same time as an old friend who has been there for me to help me out in troubled times. How dare you think of me as such!”

The atmosphere started to heat up. McGonagall turned to look at the wall-sized one sided mirror, knowing full well that the events taking place in the room was being observed by a number of investigators on the other side. The other interrogator in the room with his back against the wall was still playing it quiet.

“So you were never in any way envied Prof. Dumbledore’s position as headmaster of Hogwarts?” the interrogator asked. “Are you saying that you never held any contempt by the fact that you are unable to take over as Headmistress of Hogwarts until he steps down or passes away? You know what we call that sort of thing around here Miss McGonagall? We call that a motive.”

The interrogator then gave McGonagall a cold stare, trying to break her down. McGonagall felt the stare, and soon nervousness struck her and instantly she felt the need to reach for the glass of water. The gulping sounds were audible as she gulps down the entire glass, trying to calm down the rushing blood in her body.

As soon as McGonagall put down the glass, the interrogator slammed down the file in front of her and flipped it open, page by page, to show her photographs from the crime scene. Most of them show Prof. Dumbledore’s lifeless body sprawled on the floor in his home at his living quarters in Hogwarts. A close up photo of his face clearly showed his gaping mouth and wide opened eyes, as if frozen at the last horrible moment of living. There was no blood. No bruises. No signs of struggling. Whoever did this must have done it using magical means.

“You think we muggles don’t know about the magicks of your kind,” the interrogator spoke. ”But I can assure you we know just about everything there is to know about wizardry and witchcraft. You see that guy standing at the corner there?” He points his index finger towards the other interrogator who has been quiet all that time.

“What, you don’t recognize him, Miss McGonagall?” the interrogator added. “He’s an ex-student of Hogwarts, and he’s currently working in the Homicide branch of Hogs Meade Police Department. Whenever we get strange cases where people drop dead for absolutely no fucking reason, we usually call him to sort things out. And right now he’s here to make sure that you won’t use your dark trade to harm me!”

The interrogator motioned his head towards his partner. “Sam, show her the evidence.”
The other interrogator, who sat still during all that time, uncrossed his arms and reached into his coat to pull out an air-tight plastic bag containing the evidence. He then reached out and passed the bag to his partner. He then went back to his original position.

“Look at this Miss McGonagall,” said the investigator sternly, “look at this very carefully. We found this when we raided your office in Hogwarts shortly after we acquired the proper search warrant. This is your magic wand, am I right?”

“Yes, indeed this is my magic wand,” McGonagall replied questionably.

“Well when my friend Sam here went to check the crime scene, he found fresh traces of ectoplasmic activity that is unique only to your wand,” the interrogator explained. “You can bullshit us all you want lady, but here only the evidence counts!”

“Do you know what the penalty for homicide is Miss McGonagall?” the interrogator continued. “It’s either a life sentence with zero hope for probation or the lethal injection. Now, which one you are going to get depends on how much you are going to cooperate with us on this matter, Miss McGonagall.”

McGonagall sat still. Aware that the two now have enough proof to lock her up, she collected her thoughts and assessed the situation.

“I want to talk to my lawyer.”

* * * * *

Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley met together n Starbucks. They were sitting around a table, talking about the old times; how much they’ve changed after Hogwarts, their lives, their thoughts for the future and as such. However, their conversation almost ended abruptly after one of them happened to mention the death of their beloved Prof. Dumbledore.

“Ah, good ol’ Dumbledore,” lamented Malfoy. “Such a sad thing that such a respectable man had to pass away so soon. I still remember the times when the silly man used to locked himself up alone in his room to polish his aging wand.”

“Yes, good ol’ Dumbledore,” said Hermione. “He didn’t just polish his wand all the time, you know. He would polish the other teachers’ wands for a few magic rocks.”

“Hah, right you are about that,” said Ron. “I think he’d probably polished every wand from here to Hogwarts!”

All three nodded aye as they took a sip from their caffeinated beverages.

“Let us all sing an ode to the old man….”

His mouth flowed withthe milk of kindness;
His lips gave joy,
his tongue flapped as if by wind,
for every man and boy;
His beard ran sticky with the…

THE END

(Set in the Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, inside the Magical Library. It was after midnight. Harry Potter is sitting next to a table in the dark corner of the library, alone polishing his magic wand. Suddenly Hermione Granger walks into the room and was surprised to find Harry. A conversation starts)

Hermione: Harry, what in Norbert's name are you doing here late in this ungodly hour?

Harry: Owh, just polishing my wand here. Nothing much.

Hermione: But why are you sitting here alone? Aren't you afraid that Lord Voldermont would strike at you from the darkness and impale you from behind with his long, dark flaming rod of evil?

Harry: Well, I'd rather polish my wand alone, when nobody is watching.

Hermione: But why?

Harry: Just take a look at my wand, Hermione. It's short and small, like a baby muggle's wand. I'm ashamed of showing my wand to others, especially to the girls. I'll be a laughing stock of the entire Hogwarts if anyone finds out about my small wand.

(Hermione stares at Harry's wand for a brief moment)

Hermione: Well Harry, I don't think that's a small wand you're holding there in your hands. I've seen a lot of wands ever since I set foot on Hogwarts, and I've touched most of them. And I have to say that your's is just...perfect.

Harry: You mean you don't think it's funny that my wand is only 8 inches long, black and has a blunt white tip?

Hermione: Hey, I've seen dozens of boys with much shorter wands, even as short as 2 inches. Heck, if I'm not mistaken, I've probably seen a few boys from across the dorm who doesn't seem to have wands at all.

Harry: Sigh. All this polishing sure is tiresome. I usually polish my wand using my right hand, and when my right hand gets tired, I'll let my right hand rest and continue with my left hand. Sometimes I use vaseline all over my wand so I won't damage it from excessive polishing.

Hermione: Interesting...hey Harry, you must be feeling really tired right now with all that polishing. Why don't you give those manly hands of yours a rest and let me polish your long, hard, thick wand for you? It’s been a while since the last time I polished a boy’s magic wand, and I kinda miss the musky, sensual smell of a wand and the sweet, salty elbow grease that comes spurting out after a hard work of wand polishing.

Harry: You really don't mind?

Hermione: Of course I don't mind. I've polished other guys' wands before, including Ron Weasley's. And boy, he really sure appreciated it. I've done a few jobs for Hagrid's staff, but that's just because he's too old and fat to polish his own soft, rusty excuse for a rod. For 20 galleons, I'd be more than happy to polish any staff, wand, scepter or magic stick. But since you're my best friend, I'll polish your wand for free!

Harry: Whoaa...what can I say...thanks Hermione. I'd never thought that a slutty, sexy girl like you would have the heart to polish my wand.

Hermione: Hey, what are friends for? Besides, maybe your wand will magically grow bigger and thicker after I'm done polishing it.

Harry: Naaah. It'll just shrink back to it's original size. There was this one time when I polished my wand and it magically grew 14 inches, my biggest record so far, but shrunk back after I accidentally saw a potrait of Ms. McGonagal down the hallway. But now after hearing you said you're going to polish it with your soft, sensual hands, I'm feeling that it's beginning to grow a little already!

(Hermione bends down on her knees in front of Harry and starts to polish Harry's magic wand. Hermione uses her left hand to grab hold of the base of the wand and, with her right hand, gently strokes the whole wand in a slow up and down motion, licking the shaft once in a while for some lubricant. Conversation continues…)

Hermione: So, Harry, are you coming to the Hogwarts Senior Prom Night this coming month? I heard a lot of people are coming. Adam and Michelle are coming, Sarah and Josh are coming, and I think Jesica’s going to come, although I don’t know with whom she’s going to come with. So are you going to come or not?

Harry: Well, maybe I’ll come. Will you come with me? Coz I’m feeling like coming, since everybody else seems to be coming, and if I have to come, then I’d rather come with you.

Hermione: Oh, of course I’ll come with you Harry. I could never come without you coming with me. Although I have some doubts about coming, I would feel more secure coming there if you would come with me.

Harry: Are you sure you don’t want to come with Ron? You know, since he has a crush on you and would like to come to the prom with you, maybe you should come with him? Although I really love to come with you, I hate to come between you and Ron.

Hermione: Come to think of it, you’re right. Maybe I should come with Ron. But I’ll have to ask him first whether he’s coming or not. The prom night would become a nightmare if he decides not to come at the last minute. But Harry, if I’m coming with Ron, then who’d you be coming with?

Harry: Owh come on, don’t worry about me. I’ll find somebody else to come with. You said Jesica doesn’t have anybody to come with her right? Well maybe I’ll come with her. And if I can’t find anybody to come with, then I’ll just stay in the hostel and not come to the prom.

Hermione: Owh Harry, I really hope it doesn't come to that. Tell you what, If Ron decides not to come, then I'll definitely come with you. If Ron decides to come and you can't find someone to come with, then I'll find someone for you to come with. I just can't bear coming to the prom without you.

Harry: Okay, okay. I promise I'll come no matter what? Happy now?

Hermione: That's more like it!

(15 minutes after Hermione starts polishing Harry's wand, suddenly the wand starts to grow long and swollen and suddenly burst with sticky, white magic that blew up in front of Hermione's face. Conversation continues...)

Harry: Owh, Hermione, that was the most sensually spectacular magic that ever came spurting out of my swollen, erect wand! Look, your face is covered with white, creamy, sticky magic aura, slowly trickling down from your forehead to your pink, succulent lips...Are you alright, Hermione?

Hermione: Yeah I'm fine. I'm just amazed and puzzled by the insanely huge amount of manly firepower that blew out from the blunt end of your wand's shaft. In fact, I'm having a hard time swallowing the whole logic of it.

Harry: Sorry, my wand tends to blow up creamy white magic when I haven't polished it for a very long time. I think Professor Dumbledore once told us about this phenomena before in Chemistry class. He said that when the milky, sticky life giving aura spends too much time inside the two great balls of arcane majick, the pent up lust erotically builds up and the only way to to restore balance to the majick planes is to purge all the sensual auras in a form of spewing the aura of love in a huge magical climax.

Hermione: Owh, now I understand. I'm glad that all those sticky, salty love auras ended up blowing all over my face. Uhhmm...I can feel the warmth of the magick on my cheeks and the milky essence of the auras flowing inside my mouth to the back of my throat. I am so overwhelmed by the love auras!

(Both of them stood there in momentary silence, basking in the glory of the powerful auras that blew out of the wand. Then the conversation continues...)

Harry: Whoaaa...anyway thanks Hermione for polishing my wand...that was the best wand polishing I've ever had!

Hermione: You're welcome.

End.

Dear Mosquito,

The first time that I ever meet you was when you flew inside my apartment from the balcony around a week ago. I thought that you wouldn't be much of a fuss since you're just a small winged insect which doesn't require much room space. I even thought that we could be great roomies and that you could share stories about how life as a mosquito was really like and I could tell you how interesting my life was as a pathertic nerd loser. Being a mosquito sure is interesting wasn't it? Each day I saw you flying happily around my apartment, sometimes landing on my cupboard and sometimes on the kitchen table. I even cringed when I saw you were hit by the ceiling fan, but since you have little body mass, the impact doesn't hurt you very much. Your very presence gave my life much meaning. Sometimes you made me wish that I was a mosquito like you.

That first day was the most beautiful day of my life. That's because at that very day, I knew I already found my one true companion. The partner that will stay with me through my hardships and my sorrow, and stand by me in my days of glory. The partner that will be my most trusted assistant and at the same time, my greatest mentor. I thought things are starting to work out in my long boring life. Or so I thought.

It was on the third day when all of this conflict began to happen. It was morning when I woke up from bed, and as I was making my way to the kitchen, there you were, sucking the blood out of my cat, Mr. McFluffy Boots. Now, there are many rules of friendship that I allow leniency, and I know that sometimes being a mosquito is very frustrating for you, but sucking the blood out of my cat is something I simply cannot tolerate. How would you feel if I go and suck your cat's blood? (if you have a cat). Besides, don't you know that sucking blood is very much similar to practices of today's satanic cults? Even though it was too much for me, but as a your bestest best friend I must forgive and forget. I let you go by at that time. I thought things are turning out for the better at this point. I was wrong.

On the night of the fifth day, I was having trouble sleeping in my room because my whole body felt irritatingly itchy. I thought I've contracted some kind of skin disease from that mamak stall in Cyberia that I went to eat earlier that day, but I was wrong. It was much worse. It was YOU, you lousy bloodsucking bastard! You have been biting me and sucking my blood the whole night and left my blood-drained body to die in an unholy wave of itchiness. I've given you accommodation and my friendship, and this is what you give me in return??!! It's one thing to bite and suck the blood of Mr. McFluffy Boots, but biting and sucking MY blood is way over the top. That's something I can never forgive, not even in a kabajillion shmajillion years. That night you have crossed the thin red line, my friend. I don't care whether you're a mosquito or Batman, but this kind of thing doesn't go off unpunished.

At that very moment, I quickly got off my bed and reached for my kitchen cabinet and took out a can of Shieldtox. From what I've heard from the ads, mosquitoes like you hate the smell that comes out spraying from inside the can, like it's kryptonite or something. But as soon as I got my hands on the spray can, you quickly darted out and flew away outside the apartment through the front door. Coward! How dare you run away from your opponent when he seeks an honorable duel with you??!! Didn't your parents taught you anything about shame??!! Not only have you bitten and sucked the blood out of me and my cat, but in the end you just flew far away from here, unpunished!! Why, mosquito, why??!! What have I done in my 19 years of mortality that made me deserve this fate?? Answer me, dognamit!!

And now, here I am writing this letter about you. After I finish this letter, I will post it outside of my front door and balcony as a warning to you and your bloodsucking kind, just in case that you have the audacity to come back and beg for my forgiveness. Go away mosquito and never come back!! If I ever see you again in my apartment, I swear I'll make sure to finish the job and spray a can of Shieldtox all over your six-legged bloodsucking ass!! I have a new friend now mosquito, and his name his Bob. Bob is a moth and he will never ever suck anyone's blood, especially mine. He is more a friend to me than you ever will be, mosquito!!

So long mosquito, and wherever you might be, I hope that one day...just one fucking day, somebody else is going to suck YOUR blood. I don't know of any creature capable of sucking blood out of a mosquito though, but trust me, you'll come by them sooner or later. Then you will know how much suffering you have given to your once good friend!

End.