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Mr. Journal
Chronicles of Michael's adventures through hell along with his group of allies that he picks up along the way.
Chapter 5: don't argue
After what must have been an 8 hour walk over an increasingly harsh and barren terrain, they reached a large ornate gate. Vincent reached first and was later joined by a sore Michael. Vincent raised his fist to the gate and gave three firm knocks, Michael swore he could hear the splintering of wood. A few seconds later, the gate was pulled open slowly and a little old man became visible through the opening.



The little old man, five feet tall at most, stood up with a slightly hunched back, he wore a nice black tuxedo with strangely yellow shoes, his penguin like appearance was furthered by coarse black hair that seemed to flank a prevailing bald spot. Though he bore many wrinkles, his skin was stretched too thin for anything to be hanging or saggy. However, unlike a penguin, he appeared rather scrawny and his nice tux seemed to flow freely off his shoulders.



"Come in, we have been expecting you two." The old man finally said. With the invitation Michael and Vincent proceeded through the gate. Michael noted the guards on each side. The guards were giants of men, each at least 8 feet tall and the carried spears that matched their height. Apart from the spears they only wore pants puffy enough to make Aladdin proud and fezzes, for that comic effect. Even if the fezzes made Michael smirk, the spears discouraged all laughter.



The old man led them to what looked like an old Japanese inn, complete with sliding doors. Michael looked around and there were several other modest looking buildings, each looked like it was from a different continent and time period. "Where are we?" Michael asked as he looked around like a kid at the natural history museum for the first time.



"We are in Limbo," The old man said "Where all the repentant pagans go." The old man attempted to open the front door of the inn "I say 'don't close the door' but does she listen?" The old man griped.



"I'll do it." Michael offered and tried to open the door, but it remained fast in place "What is this thing made out of?" Michael complained, as he complained Vincent walked up and knocked softly on the door three times.



"Come in." the pleasantly plump voice of a sweet old grandma called and the door shot open, and Michael fell to the floor. The three of them walked in with Michael trailing after he got up and saw a granny whose appearance matched her voice. The old lady wore a silk flower patterned kimono and her gray hair was tied up in a neat little bun. Her face was rounder than the man's and with fewer wrinkles "Harold, you dumb sop." She said teasingly "You just have to knock if you want in." The old lady turned to Michael and Vincent "You two look puckered out, lets get you a bed to rest in." That's when she stood up and walked over to Michael and took his arm and started leading him away.

"We really should be moving on." Vincent objected.



"I insist you stay the night." She said all sweet and granny like.


"We don't have that kind of time." Vincent said sternly



"I must insist." She returned the sternness ten fold.



"We just can't do tha- guh!" Vincent was caught off guard and knocked out when the old lady hit him with a huge fan.



Michael was stunned by the new development. In his surprise, he failed to notice a squat mustachioed man in a referee's uniform, and wearing a red cap on his sleek black hair, darted out between the old lady and the unconscious Vincent and announced "T.K.O!" while sticking one hand straight up into the air.



"Now lets get you a bed, dear." The old lady said and Michael wasn't going to argue with her. They got to the room and the old lady showed him around, just as she was about to leave she turned to him "By the way, you can call me Gran." She said all sweet and granny like.





 
 
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