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My very first Mid Week Challenge that I answered on Holy Ground was "Build a Kimmie." They wanted a new nemesis, a unique villain who would menace Duncan or Methos or any of his friends, BIG time. He/she had to be memorable...ideally someone who could be recurring. "Other than that, no restrictions! You can present your Kimmie in any fashion you like best...a Watchers CD entry; a descriptive paragraph/profile; a poem; a short scene where the Kimmie first appears...anything goes."
Anything goes? No restrictions? Unique? Cool!
I, lynnann, was bored at work, what can I say� by lynnann I work for the federal government. What better way to have access to resources and files? I can find almost anyone I want to find. My co-workers make fun of my speech impediment, but I don't care. I will be the one laughing in the end. I am Immortal. The memory of my first death is dim, a hazy recollection of an accident with a box of cheap explosives. After the third or fourth time, I began to realize nothing could kill me. Plane crashes, car crashes, explosions and landslides, falling from very high places, still I always seem to survive. But I learned there are others like me, who survive amazing odds. I want to be the only one, and I will hunt the others, especially the one that lives in Holy Ground. I have had little luck in destroying the others up to this point, but today I have a plan. I drive to my destination, Wagner's The Valkyrie playing on the CD player. So inspiring. I haul the explosives out of the car, double the usual amount for I am determined for this to be the end. As I set them up, I know he will come to me; he always does, for I know his weakness. I know the explosives will not kill him, but they should stun him long enough for me to finish him off. The charges are set. I reach behind me for the plunger, but it is not there. My eyes widen in desperation. He will be here soon. Yes, there is the familiar buzz. "Looking for this, doc?" the Immortal one asked. I turn around, the one in gray is standing there, tossing the plunger from hand to hand. It was connected to the explosives. "No.o.o.o.o.o" I cry out, but I am too late. My feet scramble below me, but I go no where. The Immortal in gray grins smoothly, and pushes the plunger home. I am alone when I regain life. Singed, but alive. He is gone, back into Holy Ground. "That does it," I vow. "Tomowow, I Kelmo the Fed, go afte' the Duck." My staccato laugh echoes through the forest. "Heh.eh.eh.eh.eh.eh.eh" That's all folks :o) A very small tribute to MB, the man of a thousand voices. He will be Immortal. Thanks for reading Back to lynnannCDC's Story Page
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