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Where Am I?
By BoB

       Bob awoke to find himself in a big white room. All his belongings were there, and so were some things he didn't own.
       "Oh, great," he looked around, "I'm back at TTMI! How'd they get their hands on me?," he reached to scratch his head, "Wait a minute... I'm not strapped down, and all my knives are within arms reach."
       He sat upright and turned on a light. Looking around the room, he started to realize what he had happened, but wasn't sure he wanted to accept it yet. He tried to remember what happened and how he got here.
       "Food," he looked around, "Need food first," so he went to the kitchen and had some food. "This looks like home, but I know it isn't."
       Bob wandered around the rooms, looking to see if someone was trying to pull a joke on him. He was the only one there, but he refused to accept it as the truth.
       He sat on his couch and begn to to try to figure out what exactly had happened, and how he'd gotten to be in sucha different place. On the brighter side of things, he didn't have to worry about the other guild members making junk of his stuff, and he didn't have to be concerned with many of the other rigors associated with being in the Guild Hall.
       As he sat there and pieced everything together, he was giddy. He finally came to the conclusion that he was free of the tight-reigned control that (barely) existed. But through all of the good things that he had discovered, one question stayed in his mind, 'Where am I?'

The End
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Awkward Feelings
By BoB
       It certainly had been a weird few weeks, with a massive relocation, and then figuring out what had happened. Bob had been trying his hardest not to stick out too much in his new surroundings, but his efforts had failed, miserably. (Not really too big of a surprise)
       His appartment was starting to feel a little more like home, and all the other people in the same building no longer looked like zoned-out, pot-smoking, hippie-wannabe college students. It was kinda nice, cause after all, they weren't really... at least not most of them. The majority of the people were actually pretty grown up and professional, but Bob kept his original ideas close in thought.
       "They may look professional, but I'm sure that once those suits and ties come off, the tye-dyed clothing and beads come out. Pathetic...," Bob muttered to himself.
       He had started making a few friends, but noone that was quite the same caliber of trusst as those he had left behind. It was silly how little he trusted the people here. But he figured it was probably for the better.
       The daily routine really hadn't changed that drastically, but there were a few changes: he had turned into a mallrat (one of the kind that knows clerks' names) He had been spending a lot of time at the library, actually reading for the sake of learning, more like furthering a secondary interest
       Life for him was taking a long trip down "Easy Street" but that would change in pretty short order. He would be back on a daily routine, and doing what he loved. Which didn't bother him at all.
       He finally got so bored that he called Pumbaa.
       "Hi Pumbaa!"
       "Hallo!"
       "What's going on?"
       "Nuthin"
       "You gonna come down here?"
       "Where's 'here'?"
       "Ummm, this place called Arizona."
       "Sure, how do I get there?"
       "I have no idea," Bob scratched his head, "I think you take a highway, but I"m not entirely sure."
       "Smartass"
       Bob laughed, "I honestly don't know. I'd have to look at a map."
       The conversation went on for awhile and then they both had to go cause "that 70's Show" was coming on, and neither of them wanted to miss it. (Obviously a direct result of a need to relive that part of their lives)
       A few weeks had passed and Bob had started to break down. The prolonged absense of his friends, and the great distance between them, seemed like an eternity. The insurmountable wall seemed only to grow and fortify itself.
       He sat in his chair thinking of all the awesome times he had spent, and how few there were right now. He was consumed with such a feeling of emptiness, he just didn't know what to do with himself.
       Finally he couldn't stand it anymore,and disappeared from existence. Only he would know where he was going, and only he would let people know what he wanted them to know. It would be the ultimate in CIA-style disappearances.
       He packed up a few things that were important to him, cleaned everything to immaculate perfection, and then he left.

The End

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