Disclaimer: Andrew and the demon monkeys belong to Joss Whedon, more's the pity.
…and your little dog too!
Have decided to take over the world. It was a most glorious idea that came to me whilst being given a swirly by the chess club. Darn those bullies and their freakishly strong wrists!
Have set most glorious plan into action! There’s no way this can fail! Have drawn up colour co-ordinated, laminated plan and posted it on the internet. Perhaps ought to begin recruiting minions?
Am experiencing slight set-backs.
Tucker has found out about most ingenious plan! Says that it’s going to fail. Says he’s been planning something way better. Says his plan will be ready by Prom! He says the Slayer won’t even know what hit her!
Has also stolen my copy of Pretty in Pink!!!! Am confused by this.
Am missing Molly Ringwald, and wondering exactly what Tucker is doing, locked up in the basement with all those pictures of the Brat Pack. Surely there are only so many times you can watch Sixteen Candles before it starts to grate?
On the upside, have procured five demon monkey eggs on e-bay…was nearly outbid by some gnome, but retained upper hand in the end.
Bow down before me for I am Andrew, King of the Auction!!!
Finished translating the Lord of the Rings into Klingon and am about to start on the Simarillion
July 25th – slightly later
Have just received word from the school drama club that my futuristic adaptation of A Merchant of Venice has been declined. Apparently, nobody cares about Darth Shylock, - Jedi accountant who succumbed to the Dark Side.
Instead, they’re putting on Romeo and Juliet.
Will have revenge! This is the perfect outlet for those demon monkey eggs. Yes! Am clearly a genius of dastardly proportions! Must go now as mom is shouting about having light on after bed time. More tomorrow.
Demon monkeys have hatched and are proving most uncooperative. Training turns out to be more of a difficulty than previously anticipated. All they seem to want to do is hang off my bedroom light whilst drinking a cool refreshing Zima. Am starting to think that Tucker’s obsession for cheesy films has branched out. Walked past the basement earlier and could have sworn I heard hell hounds baying along to Saturday Night Fever. Just what in tarnation is going on down there?
Tried to sneak into basement and ascertain Tuckers plan. Was unfortunately captured and beaten repeatedly about the head with a limited edition Luke Skywalker figurine. Will never forgive him for this – Mark Hamilton is now slightly less attractive as his right arm has come off,
Have suggested to Tucker that he try out for school play. He seems most taken with this idea. Mwuahahahaha, shall have my revenge yet!!!!!!
PS. Am thinking that six exclamation marks are perhaps overdoing it a bit. Will work way up to four and see where to go from there.
Slight set back. Am experiencing some trouble training demon monkeys. Have now stopped sitting with hands over eyes, ears, mouth and bellybutton, but have instead managed to get hold of typewriters and are banging away day and night. Old adage apparently not true, monkeys continuously fail to write even first line of Hamlet, but have instead written out entire text of Spot the Dog fifteen times over. Is this significant?
Tucker has got role of Mercutio in school play. Will pay particular attention to role when reading to demon monkeys tonight.
Stupid monkeys keep touching magic bone borrowed from Jonathan. Not sure what to do with it, as smells funny and is covered in spit.
Have progressed to visual training of monkeys. Have devised computer animation of play, with Tucker’s face superimposed on all characters. Nevertheless, monkeys seem unnaturally attracted to Romeo. On hindsight, probably a mistake to show them Baz Luhrman’s adaptation.
Have been very busy training monkeys. Ready for opening night of play tomorrow. Tucker keeps prancing about in his costume, think monkeys are out for blood. Am looking forward to no longer having to share bed with demonic fiends – think they might have fleas.
Demon monkeys total success. Managed to chew halfway through backdrop by end of second act and peed all over drama teacher’s lunchbox. Witnessed reverberating screams of “Run Juliet, Run.”
Not sure what happened to Tucker, but saw him limping hours later, muttering something about being violated. That’ll teach him to steal my hot-pockets.
On down side, Slayer never even made an appearance, instead monkeys lured into animal control van by life-sized Leonardo di Caprio cut-outs.
Nevertheless, think night was complete success. Taken out for celebratory soda by Warren and Jonathan. Think they might be ready to proclaim me Grand Leader, but don’t want to push them into it.
Prom tomorrow. Have very snazzy Tux. Can’t wait.