By The Chronicler
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<The End>
Reno Nevada sat back in his chair and stared at the computer screen.
<The End>
As chronicler for the Banzai Institute, he had, what he considered, the best job in the world. He got to tell the world about the great men and women he worked with. He got to tell their stories, entertaining any and all. Adventures. Romances! Sci-fi! Even fantasy!
Yea! At the Banzai Institute, reality could even mean fantasy!
And traveling the world, not just seeing the wonders.... but being part of them!
It was great!
Life was great!
<The End>
This part he hated. The only reason for a story to end at the Banzai Institute was if the person at the heart of that story ended... died.
Reno took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
This one had been about Rawhide. The second in command that had given his life only days earlier when he threw himself between Buckaroo Banzai and their attackers. The alien spit-spidar had struck him in the back. And, before they knew what just was happening, the strongest among them had fallen, dead.
<The End>
He had been everyone's big brother. The big, sturdy oak that never gives in the wind. The guardian. The brick wall.
<The End>
Reno shook his head angrily. "There has got to be a better way to say that." he grumbled, leaning over his keyboard. he back spaced, erasing that hated <The End> and tried again.
<The Point Beyond>
"Poetic." the writer mumbled. Then backspaced over.
<The Conclusion>
Reno winced. "No comment." Backspaced.
<Subject Closed>
"Oh, yea. What a way to describe a friend." Backspaced.
<End Point>
"Cute." Backspaced.
<Finale>
"How end like." Backspaced.
<Finished>
"Repeat." Backspaced.
<Completed>
"Hell!" Reno launched up of his seat, slamming the key board away. "Complete? What a load of shit!" he snarled.
There was still to much for the big man to do. Too much to look after. Too much to be there for. Too many reasons that Rawhide should be there, breathing, alive!
Nothing was complete. How could anything be complete when Rawhide wasn't finished?
With a growl, the writer quickly erased his last entry.
He looked at the screen for a long, hard moment. Then he finally sighed. Reaching over, he slowly typed out the last words of a great story. The only words that could be the last words.
They weren't poetic. They weren't cute, They weren't attractive. They weren't revealing nor soothing. Nor were they anything else.
They were simply the only words that could be the last words.
>The End>
Closing his eyes, Reno Nevada dropped his chin to his chest. God, he never felt like crying before.
It really was the...
His study door slammed open. "Reno!" Perfect Tommy practically screamed.
Not that Reno was ever surprised by PT any more, he had been a little more out of control since Rawhide wasn't around to box his ears any more. Thus, when Reno looked up, he was surprised... Perfect Tommy was grinning... really grinning!
"He might not be dead." Tommy told him. "Come on. The Addars are comin'." And then he was gone, down the hall, and out of sight.
Reno stood stock still for the longest moment. "Damn!" he suddenly exploded. He took two steps toward the door, but then paused.
With a grin of his own, he spun about, back to his computer,
<The End>
Backspace.
<TBC>
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