>From the Scriviner:

        Notice if you will, a recent scene. Observe the large, broadly built
man hunched over a keyboard... his fingers tapping rapid-fire, almost as if
he were working against a clock... which is not precisely correct... he
doesn't have a deadline, per se... he's just trying to catch up. Behind him,
a slender man also observes the screen before them, nodding his head
sympathetically as they survey the damage...

        "ARGHHHHH! One thousand five hundred and thirty four messages lost!
Along with a hundred megs worth of stories and my collection of videos all
shot to hell!!"
        "It could've been worse, man... you could've lost everything..."
replied the smaller man.
        The larger man's face had been reduced to a twisted rictus of
horror, shock and disbelief as he turned to face the slender man, "You're
kidding right? I mean, I just lost eight hundred megs worth of stuff here,
can't I at least expect a little sympathy? Maybe a funeral or something? A
testimonial dinner to my hard drive?"
        "Careful, man... you're going psycho..."
        The large man continued to babble, gesticulating wildly, "Yes...
yes... we'll have it a black tie affair... rent out a room at the Hyatt or
something... yes... yes... A nice long table with the mortal remains of my
hard disk enshrined at one end..."
        "You're drooling, Scrivener..."
        "I do not drool!" challenged the larger man.
        "You're dribbling then."
        "That's nice..." the Scriviner replied with a maniacal grin stil
pasted on his face...
        "You're going to short out the keyboard if you keep doing that..."      
        "I've already lost my CPU... what's another component, eh?"
        "Erk... I think you're taking this a little too hard, Scriv..."
        "Too hard? Of course not... I'm taking this perfectly fine... I just
lost everything and now I'm going to have to reacquire copies of every
single fanfic I used to have (not to mention the updates) but I can't E-mail
the authors for the stories because I don't have their addresses anymore
because I lost those to the crash as well?! And you think I'm not taking
this well?!!?!?!? Shame on you!"
        "Right," replied the smaller man uneasily as he watched the flecks
of foam forming at the corners of the Scriviner's mouth... "Um... but look
on the bright side, Scriv... at least you saved your own stories..."
        "Well... there is that..." the Scriviner replied deflating
slightly... he pause from his typing in order to discreetly wipe the traces
of spit from his mouth...
        "By the way..." continued the smaller man, ignoring the Scriviner as
he wiped his sleeve across his mouth, "How's part 7 of 'That's 1/2 My
Goddess' coming along?"
        The Scriviner leapt out of the chair, landing heavily on the smaller
man's chest and screamed in his face, "Are you being deliberately
hurtful?!?! You know my CPU's been gone a month! How do you think I'm going
to get any work done on my stories if I can't turn my PC on?!?!?!?!?!?"
        "Er... calm down, Scriv... salm down... I forgot okay? I... er...
calm down..."
        The maniacal grin was back on the Scriviner's face as he capered on
the smaller man's chest, "Yessss... calm, of course... calm... I like being
calm... ohohoh, yessss..."
        "Ergh! Ow! Hey..! Oof! Get off! You're-- OW! Heavy!!"
        The Scriviner stopped suddenly and leered down at the smaller man,
"So... you're going to ask about my other stories, aren't you?! I know you
want to ask me... ask me... go ahead... ask me... You want to know about
Magical Knight Ranma, don't you? Don't you!? Or were you going to ask about
Ahh, Megaplayboy? Or maybe The Ranma/X-Files meld?! Askmeaskmeaskmeaskme!?!?"
        "Er... I'm afraid to as--" the smaller man started to say...
        "I haven't done a shred of work in any of them!!!!!!
Bwahahahahahaha- hahahahah!!!!!!!!!!! Erhm... sorry... I think I've got a
hold of myself now...
        "Are you sure?" asked the smaller man suspiciously.
        "Yeah, yeah... I'm feeling a lot better now..." replied the
Scriviner, pulling himself to his full height.
        "Good. Get off my chest then."
        "Er... sorry."
        "That's better... now that you've calmed down, why don't you write
to the FFML and ask them to send you the stories you need?
        "Er... that's part of the problem, I don't remember which ones they
are... everything's gone, remember?"
        "Just hope for the best Scriv. And welcome back."
        "Thanks, TimeRunner," the Scriviner replied absently as he slipped
into his chair again to begin his work anew... and maybe to ask people if
they could possibly send him their work... lemons were most welcome and so
were alternate histories and melds...