Young Writers Society

"Ah! Razorblade! Fake sugar is worse than the real stuff! It supposedly kills your brain. Sugar on the otherhand, motivates it to life! But then again, if suffering from ADHD, I can see how sugar wouldn't exactly help that." Claire says to Razorblade. Claire takes her cup of tea over to Razorblade's table. "Now tell me, what other theories of sugar do you have tucked up your sleeve? Anything on salt?"

"Salt? I once wrote a story about a man who put salt on everything," Razorblade says. "He couldn't eat anything without salt on it, even in his Coke. If he did, he'd get really sick. Kind of a pointless and unrealistic story, but hey, I was only six when I wrote it."

Amelia laughs at a conversations that does not involve her. Yet, although she has been evesdropping ^_^, she would still like to point out a theory on sugar, that most of the effects of refined sugar are mental. She would also like to point out that the man in Razorblade's story must have been really thirsty after not only drinking Coke, but drinking it with salt in it. ^_^

Now that Amelia has finished dominating the conversation, she goes to join the people dancing (if there are still any left).

Claire bursts out in a fit of laughter. "Ah Razorblade, what a brilliant mind for a six-year old. When I was a six-year old, I was playing in the mud with my two boy neighbors and saving baby birds. That and writing about animals. And running around in old ladies bras with microphones with another silly little six year old around my mother's church. Highly amusing." Claire looks up at Amelia and sees her stalk off to go dancing. She smiles and decides to join, but only on the condition that she can do a hobbit jig. Claire loves being random...

"It was quite unusual, and amusing in retrospect," Razorblade chuckles, half at her memories of the story, and half at Claire's hobbit jig.

"so..." Tassen says, struggling to bring the conversation onto a less awkward level. "How's life?"

"Awkwardness, Tassen? Loosen up, matey!" Razorblade laughs, clapping Tassen on the shoulder.

"Life goes on whether we like it or not. Besides," Claire said, "sugar makes the world go 'round!" she laughed and continued dancing and told Razorblade that she should join. Claire continued to jig like a hobbit, but suddenly a mug of butterbeer appeared in her hand. Smelling the deliciousness of it, Claire decided to sit down next to JC.

"Me? Dance? Only if you're in the mood to become blind," Razorblade says with a laugh. "I can't even chicken dance properly!"

"How can you not chicken dance properly? Even I can do it, but there's no way in heck you're gonna see me try."

"I think if I poke you enough times you'll do it," Razorblade says with a wicked grin.

Amelia is amused by Claire's hobbit jig, if Claire still remembers doing it, as it seems to have occured a while ago.

Claire indeed remembers her hobbit jig and chuckles from the memory.
"Ah, Razorblade, I'm sure you're embellishing just a tad. C'mon!" Claire said eagerly, "I'll teach you! ... my fee is sugar!" Claire laughed maniacally: Mwahahahaha!
"Ohh! Amelia, I should teach you too. It's never too late to hobbit jig!" Claire leaves her butterbeer on the table and stares at Amelia and Razorblade, beckoning them with pleading eyes in an attempt to lure them to the dancefloor, or well, table top.

Ofour walks in, orders a Bloody Mary, drinks, belches, then grumbles "hrrrmmm...'llo". Now he is drunk, very drunk. He giggles, then belches again.

"I vote no," Razorblade says to Claire. "I hate dancing," she mutters under her breath.