[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/a6RYmyh.png[/img]
[@Plank Sinatra][/center]

[b]"Yeah, I feel. Thanks."[/b]

I absolutely didn't feel.

I knew her advice was warning me, as it so often did, of the dangers of scandalously "easy" women, but how on earth did she get there from the subject of the shape of Ben's tonfa? 

Like, I knew the common wisdom of "if she breathe she a thot" by heart at this point, and I also intellectually knew that it was anatomically and biologically impossible for everyone who wasn't a thot to [i]not[/i] breathe. If anything, I'd guess that the message she wanted to relay to me was "find a happy medium with your caution, don't distrust all as thots, but don't forget that all thots walk amongst us", or something along those lines. But, that's not the issue here.

The issue is the tonfa.

Lawnslot is a shotgun and a tonfa, and unless she's tying it together via phallic imagery, I don't see how its shape relates to thots at all.

They were two different trains of thought.

Two different chains of thot, even.

I glanced over to Amy, and the geyser that was once her weapon, before looking back down to Lawnslot in my hand.

I wasn't sure why, but a very chilling thought (and not thot) occurred.

...If Lauren had, metaphorically mind you, just handed me Ben's...

[b]"........."[/b]

I would be extremely upset. That's all that we need to say. Any more words were to be sternly had with her, and her alone.

.........

Anyways.

All that aside.

Chatsworth's assignment for today was extremely hands-off, as far as they went— Just as well too. Drawing up plans for Crow's Beak was more like telling Ben what I was thinking of in the first place, so in essay terms, I had basically already mapped out my "rough draft" in the classes before.

So, once I had gotten Lawnslot opened up and looked into, I could start that up in earnest—

Well, actually, hold on.

Let's weigh the options for a second.

This may come as a shock to you, but I've recently become aware of a disturbing tendency of mine: I am, apparently, pretty easily sidetracked.

If I actually were to switch gears from the planning stage to the investigative stage, I could quickly lose the frame of mind needed to write down my schema in a timely, concise, and unobtrusive manner.

That'd sink me for sure! A slapdash and haphazard note cobbled together at the end of class wouldn't hold up to Beacon Academy's standards at all!

I couldn't allow it. With all the fury and rightful panic of a man who's been brought from the depths of washout-dom—

I absolutely wasn't allowing it.

The paper and pencil were free before you could even blink. A quick summary of my thoughts and plans to start— That would, at the very least, provide me with a suitable roadmap before I inevitably began to tinker and lead myself astray.

Lawnslot had a fairly simple-appearing construction, owing to the necessary minimalism of sticking a gun in a tonfa of all things.

But even so.

Even so.

I could not underestimate it. The smiths of Redwood had forged this thing.

[i]"Redwood is always full of surprises—"[/i] The words of an old Shiroyaman general, whose name I unfortunately glossed over in my high school history class's Color War unit one or two years prior.

[i]"—Just when you think you have them cracked, something older and meaner than the both of you pops up from nowhere. I fear that anything less than a swift and total defeat will not be sufficient, lest we waken another sleeping giant."[/i]

I don't remember what that giant was.

It sounded like a Grimm to me right now, but I got a feeling that one of the other arguments being made was for their populace and arms—

Arms I was dealing with now.

.......

The point is:

I needed to do the report first, before marveling at whatever beguilingly simple-looking feats of engineering lay within Lawnslot.

...Wouldn't it be funny, actually, if it really was as simple as it looked?

Could that be what Lauren, my beloved surrogate sister who unfailingly speaks in double or even triple meanings, was getting at all along?

The virtues of calling a spade a spade?

A tonfa a tonfa?

A thot a thot?

...We'll see.