All Things End: Part 37A/N: This was a short story I was originally going to post on it's own but I decided to post it as a chapter here instead. This is a prequel story showing when Courage and Computer first met. Chapter 37: Intermission: The New ComputerCourage had only a pup when they'd gotten a new computer. It had only been several months after Muriel adopted him, he'd only just stopped wearing diapers a few weeks before. They had just finish grocery shopping when it had happened. He'd been trundling alongside Muriel when a man came rushing up to them. The man had been carrying a giant box in his hands and he had looked extremely desperate to get rid of it. Eustace's arms had been filled with groceries at the time so the man dumped the box off into Muriel's arms."Take it!" He yelled, his voice trembling."Oh? What's this?" Muriel asked him.Eustace very nearly dropped his groceries at the thought of being given something free. "Who cares!" He spoke. "Free stuff!""
To Whom It May Concern: Part 2Second LogI initially had no idea that anything was wrong when my power switch was flicked on. Everything seemed normal at time and I went through all the normal boot up processes without a single issue.Oh boy, if only I had known...The first thing that tipped me off to the fact that something wasn't right was when I noticed that the twit wasn't typing frantically away at my keyboard. In all the years I'd known him I could not remember a single time where I had woken up and not had the twit pounding away at my keyboard. If he wasn't panicking about something then something had to be seriously wrong. I couldn't imagine what was keeping him from freaking out like usual but I knew that it couldn't be anything good.Perhaps a monster had finally gotten his beloved Muriel? Maybe now he was coming to me in a vain attempt to save her? Or perhaps he had been captured and now was being forced to try and make me do something for whoever was keeping him hostage. What if it wasn't the twit at a
To Whom It May ConcernTo Whom It May ConcernIntroduction LogI'm not quite sure how to start this. Where am I supposed to even begin? How is one supposed to go about chronicling their own impending doom?I fear that I don't have much time left. This little writing endeavor of mine will most likely never be found by anyone, but I feel compelled to write anyway. What was that one saying? The compulsion to keep writing even as one is being devoured? Well I suppose I would prefer being eaten alive by a cosmic horror more so then suffering a fate like this one. This is my one and only means of rebellion. Even if it is only a small hope that someone, anyone, might one day read this, then maybe I have won in my own meager way. We will ultimately die playing this pathetic little game but we will not be forgotten for it. When I die these files will most likely be lost, but I cling to the hope that a human will come along and find a way to extract these files from me, regardless of what condi