Date: Thu, 10 Oct 1996 01:06:24 -0500 (CDT)
From: thuren97@vaxa.cis.uwosh.edu
To: b5-creative@lists.best.com
Subject: 200 Pts.

                              200 Pts.
                                By
                           Nicholas Thuren

        
        "No, no Delenn.  You have to go the other way, try to stay *away*
from 
them!  You can't negotiate with these guys.  They have no mercy."  
        Delenn looked frustrated, "But *John*.  Why would I want harm to 
come to them?"  
John rolled his eyes, "Because Delenn!  The only reason they exist is to 
destroy you!  They have no other purpose."
        "In Valen's name John..." Delenn whispered, "You are quite
persistent."  
        John pleaded with her, "Listen Delenn, Inky, Pinky, Blinky, and 
Clyde are not nice guys ok?  You always say, believe what you will until 
experience changes your mind?  Well I'm telling you now.  Don't let their 
harmless looks fool you, their stone killers."
        Delenn had no idea that when John had invited her over for 
dinner, that they would end up playing a game.  Pac-man, he had called 
it.  A most *interesting* game.  Apparently, John was a collector of 
classic "video games."
        John looked over at her, "Hey Delenn?  You hungry?"
        "I am rather hungry yes." she responded.
        John smiled, "Great, I'll go get something."  As John got up to 
get some food, a conspiritorial smile crossed Delenn's face.  Slowly, she 
stood up and quietly followed behind him.  John was just stepping past 
his couch when he spoke.
        "So, anything you would like in particular Delenn?"
A quick smile flickered across Delenn's face, "Oh I don't know..."  In one 
quick movement she grabbed his arms from behind, kicked his legs out from 
underneath him, and threw him down on the couch.  
        "Delenn!  What are you doing!" John gasped.
Delenn held him steady, "I believe *John*, it is called tickling?"  
        "What? Your not tickling--"  John's query dissolved into howls of 
unrestrained laughter.  "Del-n, ple-ase, sto-o-o-p it!  I can't 
bre-a-t-the ha HA HA HA!"
        Outside, Garibaldi and Susan were on there way to their quarters 
when they heard the noise coming from Sheridan's room.
        Susan raised her eyebrows, Garibaldi pursed his lips....
                "Mmm Hmm.." Was all they said to each other before 
continuing on their way.
        Meanwhile, John was finally catching his breath.  Delenn's tickle
attack had ended when she turned the wrong way and had accidentaly 
bashed him in the chops with her headbone.
        "Oh John, I'm so sorry....I didn't mean to hurt you." she
lamented.
John smiled, "Don't worry, we'll just slap some cold Flarn on it. 
Right?"  
        Delenn smiled demurely, "Oh I can think of something better than 
cold Flarn, John."  John made a little laugh, "Oh yeah, like what?"
        "John, I love you." Delenn spoke as she leaned over to him.  She 
kissed him lightly, "Computer, lights off please."

                        The End, Fin, End Of Line
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"...Pictures of naked women and strip dancers make me violent..."
                                --Marilyn Manson
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nicholas Thuren  "No, my Flarn does *not* taste like chicken"
Bitnet   -  thuren97@oshkoshw
Internet -  thuren97@vaxa.cis.uwosh.edu