Evidence

Ass-monkey

Miranda's P.O.V...

Manson ran into the door just as Gaahl went to close it. Alas, he was too late. I couldn't help but smile, I laughed at other's pain, and his emotional and physical pain looked like it was too much to bear. Why did I have to be so evil?

"Manson, they won't hurt Leonore," I said, "they'll just assert their masculinity." He looked both horrified and as if he had been sucking on a lemon as I said this.

"What do you mean by masculinity?" he asked.

"I mean they'll just act like "tough guys", I'm sure they won't rape her," I said, "although, they got me." I looked down angrily, and realized that my pride was the least of my problems right then. I could be pregnant.

"What's wrong?" Manson asked, remembering me.

"Oh nothing," I said, "you have too much to worry about all ready. I mean, it's your job to convince me to stay the course of this mission these ideots are doing. I've heard that I'm pretty stubborn."

"I didn't hear that," he said, looking worried, "but what if I can't convince you?"

"I'm sure that they'll just send you and Leonore back home," I said sadly, "it'll work out for you at least. And, I don't doubt that they'll make me do what they want me to do no matter what I say." As soon as I spoke, I was interupted by Leonore's screaming. Manson rushed back to the door and started banging on it.

"You let her go!" Manson yelled, banging on the door with his fists.

"I don't think-"

"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Leonore yelled.

"Well, I stand corrected,"

"Is there anything in here to break down the door?" Manson asked desperately as Leonore started crying.

"I don't think so, but you could check the closet." Manson ran to the closet. He pulled out a giant plastic comically sized red crayola crayon.

"I didn't know that Gaahl had kids," Manson sighed, throwing the novelty-sized crayon on the ground. Just as he did so, Leonore quieted down.

"Well, I didn't know that my son was his son until he told me that he drugged me on my wedding night and fucked me while I was out of my mind." Manson stared at me surprised.

"You've had a hard life, haven't you, Miranda?" Manson asked me. I nodded.

"Sorry, I had to bring you in this," I apologised.

"It's alright, " he sighed, "but if Leonore gets hurt, there will be Hell to pay." He then sat down at the edge of the bed, and started flipping through the TV.

**********************************

Leonore's P.O.V.

"So, are you going to answer my question or what?" I asked for the tenth time.

"WHAT!" He yelled.

"Just tell me, I'd like to know how you know so much about my personal life when I only know that you've renamed yourself Gaahl, and you have bad taste in facial hair."

"Alright, you want to know things about me?" He asked, about to give up. I nodded.

"I hate cats, I'm a vegetarian, I like classical music, my bands names are Trelldom, Gorgoroth, Gaahlskagg, and Sigfader. I believe in a God much like the Hebrew Satan, only without the hebrew. So, yes I guess you could say that I worship Satan. But, I prefer not to say it because Satan is a word invented by stupid people to define the uneasily defined. And, I know about you because my friend tells me that he drugged you, and you gladly told him your life story. He then told me your life story, which was quite interesting. Have you ever thought about writing a book?"