SFFS

I'm Back!!!! And here is a snippet from my as-of-yet unedited ARC of book 2 from the Legacy series. Enjoy ^^

“You may not like it Abi, but we do have a protocol,” I said. My voice was dulled by the hiss of rainfall. Not that it would have mattered; my apprentice stormed in front of me, defiant on proving that she was right by stomping her feet and staunchly ignoring me.

My name is Erik Ashendale and today’s pain in the ass is my apprentice slash secretary Abigale.

Arguing in the rain is not fun. Arguing with a person who is plainly ignoring you is annoying. Arguing with a witch-succubus hybrid while carrying a gym bag full of equipment and getting soaked to the bone, makes you want to blast said hybrid with a firebolt.

Girl Power

Part 18 of the Star Wars short story. Enjoy

Girl Power

Wraith closed his eyes, awaiting the spear to end his life.

“Spider sister.” The yell echoed throughout the valley, halting every living this there. Wraith craned his neck towards the source of the sound.

She was a tall warrior dressed in red and yellow. Orange sashes were around her thin waist. Pendants hung from it. She wore a corset of red leather. Her weapon was a long halberd with a wickedly curved axe. She wore a red bandana and her dark hair hung around her shoulder and down her back and breasts. Her yellow pants billowed and were tucked inside her brown boots. A light violet serpentine symbol was painter across her face but it did not obscure her beautiful angular features. Wraith locked eyes with her large purple eyes and felt a lump on his throat despite the spell pinning him down.

“This is our prey,” croaked the Witch with the spear at his throat. “Get your own, Mountain Clan wench.”

The new witch raised her weapon. From all around them, emerging form the cliffs and canyon peaks, witches wearing red and yellow emerged. Some rode rancors whilst others were on foot. But they all stood tall and proud aiming bows at the black clad witches. Arrows of pink energy quivered as the witches drew them with disciplined and practiced ease.

“You know our methods by now,” said the first witch. “This is the only warning. Leave with your lives whilst you still have them.”

The black witch chuckled. “You do not want to start an open war between the Spiderclan and the Singing Mountain clan. Go back little –”

Before she could finish her sentence, the beautiful witch hefted her weapon and threw it at the Spiderclan witch. The halberd shot into the witch, impaling her and throwing her backwards. The rest of the Spiderclan tensed up and gazed in horror as their leader got slain in front of their eyes.

“Anyone else have a complaint?” called out the beautiful witch. The Spiderclan witches remained silent. “Good. You have two choices: fight and die, or run back to which ever crevice you crawled out from.”

Most of them ran from it but a few remained. Leading the escapees were the first witches who assaulted Wraith. He should have known: bullies always run in the face of adversity. Five of the remained.

“We cannot return without our quarry,” said one of them. “Our matriarch will kill us in punishment.” They raised their weapons.

The beautiful witch raised her arm. “Have it your way.” Arrows flew. Four of the witches were like porcupines; their bodies a pin cushion for the arrows. The spokeswoman managed to shield herself.

“You hide behind archers. Face me you coward,” she screamed at the beautiful witch. The Spiderclan witch swung a curved sword horizontally at the other witch.

Calmly, the Singing Mountain witch stepped into the strike, grabbed the Spiderclan witch’s wrists and twisted. The Spider witch spun and landed painfully on her back. The Mountain Witch held the sword close to her body with her left hand and extended her right. She channelled the Force and squeezed the Spider witches’ neck. The beautiful witch Force Choked her opponent and lifted her off the ground. Her victim struggled in vain. The beautiful witch flicked her wrist and the Spiderclan witch’s neck snapped. The beautiful witch threw her carelessly along with the sword. She walked towards Wraith who, albeit free from the Spiderclan’s spell, remained stunned on the ground. He was mesmerized by the Singing Mountain witch’s beauty and power.

She retrieved her weapon, extracting it from the first witch’s corpse. Then she pulled Wraith’s weapon with the Force and examined it.

“Our matriarch would like an audience with you, outsider,” she said as she pocketed his weapon in her sash. Her tone of voice had changed completely. She spoke with a gentle voice but there was no doubt of her power. Her eyes locked into his and they stood like that for a while. Her purple eyes made his heart beat and his face warm. This sensation was new to him and he wasn’t sure he liked it. It confounded him. ‘This merits more observation,’ he thought as he stood up.

Her halberd twirled and the blade quivered centimetres from his neck.

“Please follow us without any trickery.”

Wraith’s expression hardened. This was the second time a woman threatened to behead him. He was starting to think that every conversation with a female involved mortal danger.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” she said. Wraith smirked slyly.

“Anything in particular you’d like me to do with them?” he said. She blushed and pressed her blade.

“As if you could handle me,” she muttered as they began walking and other witches joined them. Wraith smirked. He liked her, he decided. 

Wrangled Wraith

Part 17 of my Star Wars story. A short piece, but somewhat intense.

enjoy.

Wrangled Wraith

Warrior females popped out of every crevice like a colony of insects. Other, namely those carrying bows and missiles, aimed their weapons at Wraith. Leaping into the fray, he overwhelmed the first warriors before the rest got wise to his tactics. Arrows made of pure energy rained down on him. Wraith put up a barrier with the Force, and tried to take cover. Two warriors breeched his barrier, infiltrating it with their own powers. Wraith was stuck fighting them, at the same time holding his Force Barrier strong against the projectiles.

Ducking low, he dropped the barrier. The arrows pierced the warriors and slew them. Wraith rendered his body intangible. As the projectiles passed through his body, Wraith felt pain shooting through his body. There were no markings or damage to his body: the arrows were made from the Force and designed to damage Force adepts. Wraith felt someone sneak behind him. A witch emerged behind him, like a feral ghoul. Her halberd sliced at Wraith. Despite being intangible, Wraith’s senses warned him to dodge. Something about that weapon made him weary of it. He rolled to the side and felt a sharp biting pain at his side. His body solidified again as he sprawled on the ground. Blood oozed from his side, where the blade of the witch’s polearm sliced at his hip. Wraith crouched and felt a throbbing pain in his head. The world begun spinning.

Poison.

The weapon must have been poisoned. The witch moved in for the kill. Wraith found the strength to block and Force Pushed. The witch was thrown backwards. Pain shook Wraith’s body as he cradled his wound. With an effort, he readied himself to teleport away, at least for enough to recuperate. He warped space and felt his body shift. But before he fully escaped, he felt the Force binding him to the ground. Witches surrounded him. Each witch took a Force grip on Wraith, binding his limbs and movement. Their spell numbed his body and mind. Wraith felt his connection to the Force waver. He had no defences against spells and magic.

They forced him down, eagle spread. The area around him shimmered and gasses erupted. ‘Energies of the spells,’ thought Wraith. He was completely helpless.

A witch, more intricately dresses in leathers and amulets than her sisters, mounted off her giant spider and leapt off of it. She twirled a wicked looking spear and pointed it at Wraith’s throat. The sun glinted off the tip. For the first time in a long while, Wraith felt fear. Fear of certain death. The witch smiled and the spear descended. 

Welcome in Webs

Part 16 of my Star Wars short story.
Enjoy

Welcome in Webs

He entered the atmosphere of Dathomir after much effort. The entire planet was hidden in the Force, repelling utterly everything. The power swirling around the planet – no, the power that emerged from the planet – required Wraith to force his way through. Coating his ship in the Force, he had finally made it through and cruised gently within the stratosphere. The gravitational pull took effort and the autopilot indicated the trajectory for landing. Wraith took the controls, doing his best to follow the trajectory.

The storm came out of nowhere. Dark grey clouds formed around the ship, obscuring Wraith’s vision. The entire ship shuddered. Thunder rumbled, causing every inch of the aircraft to vibrate. The controls slipped out of Wraith’s control and the ship’s instruments went crazy. The ship spiralled out of control. Wraith felt himself spin and he no longer could figure out which side was up, down, left or right. He saw a flash of light and remembered the day his shuttle was destroyed by Mortris’s lightning. That had led to his imprisonment. This was a planet run by warring witch clan. Wraith cursed his luck and hoped that this was part of the universe’s plan for him. Either way, he was not a fan of this plan.

Wraith was unconscious long before his ship crashed in the valley. He came to when the remnants of the vessel was in complete stillness. He heard something creaking close to him. ‘You’re in a wreckage. At least it’s creaking, not an explosion,’ he thought. Slowly he got feeling back in his body and moved his extremities. No waves of pain: nothing broken save his only means back home.

He heard the creaking again and felt something solid begin pressing on his chest. His eyes focused and an ugly head filled his vision; four sets of eyes and a pair of pincer-like fangs filled its head. The spider was as wide as Wraith and weighed as much as he did.

It was the shock and sheer horror more than instinct, which took over him. Lightning arced all over his body, electrocuting the giant arachnid. A horrid smell of burnt fluids wafted throughout the air. Wraith’s stomach nearly turned and thanked the stars that he wasn’t fully functional. With a look of revolt he Force pushed the beast away and managed to stand up. He heard a hiss and saw the spider service itself, its fangs clicking menacingly. It launched itself at Wraith. His fingers wrapped around his lightsaber and, with a swift motion, bifurcated the spider.

‘It managed to resist the Force,’ thought Wraith. His lightsaber would serve him well against these creatures. Still clutching his weapon wearily, he made it out of the wreckage. His ears picked up slight clicking and his body reacted. His lightsaber sliced into a spider, this one larger than its cousin. He heard multiple clicks and saw a large black spider emerge in view. His stomach sank – he was surrounded by giant arachnids, each more menacing than its neighbour.

He twisted his weapon, separating it into twin weapons. The spiders sensed the challenge and commenced their assault. Wraith felt his body shift from one stance to another, felling one spider after the next.

He noticed a figure hiding between the boulders and large spider legs. It wore dark clothing and dark hair whipped around it. Wraith sliced his way closer towards the figure. He heard it hiss and croak. A large spider, probably half as large as his entire ship, leapt towards him. Undeterred, Wraith slipped under it, slicing its legs. The creature buckled down and its head cracked on the ground. Wraith levitated a large boulder and released it on its head. The strange humanoid creature leapt forward. A glint of silver caught Wraith’s eye. His red plasma blade met an undulating knife. Wraith observed the creature. She was a female Witch garbed in sashes and leathers. She wore skirting pants, billowing around her legs. Amulets of spiders covered her body and every inch of her arms, chest, neck and head was marked with tattoos of spider webs. She snarled, revealing blackened gnarled teeth and yellow eyes, indicating the Dark Side. She crouched and a second undulating knife appeared in her hand. She attached ferally, using quick attack-and-retreat tactics. ‘Just like a spider,’ thought Wraith. His swordsmanship skills were greater and, after parrying her second lunge, he snapped a blade and beheaded her.

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. Quiet rang once more.

“Sister.” The voice echoed from all over the valley.

“You shall pay for harming our sister.” They appeared from everywhere:  riding behemoth spiders, popping from holes in the ground and emerging from nowhere. Wraith raised his weapons. He decided he didn’t like Dathomirian Witches, especially the ones who wanted to kill him for no apparent reason.

Stairway to Heaven

Part 15 (long overdue) of the Star Wars fanifc

enjoy

Stairway to Heaven

Lessons with Yoda consisted of philosophical discussions about the various Force powers and methodologies. Both warriors would sit in a study, perhaps sharing a beverage, and they would talk for hours. Once, the Grandmaster had taken him to a garden on Courscant where Wraith spent an afternoon feeding birds and petting animal life-forms: those docile enough to be considered friendly. It had been an illuminating experience for the former Sith. For the first time in his life he experienced beauty: the simplistic beauty of non-sentient life-forms. Companions which were capable of mindless loyalty and never experienced hatred. He learnt that it wasn’t the universe that was violent. This was merely the result of a few individuals which spread their hate and anger like a disease. Without knowing, Wraith’s philosophy shifted: from a lost Sith to a Jedi.

But his stay at the Temple was not just for philosophical lessons. Wraith would occasionally be given space to meditate on his next course of action. It took some coaxing but finally the Force illuminated him.

“I see a planet coated in the Force,” he told the Jedi Council once it had convened again. “Some Light, some Dark, but the entire world is a nexus of power.”

“What is it you seek?” asked Mace Windu.

“A female. A powerful one.” Wraith paused. “The entire gender is powerful, more so than their male counterparts. I believe the natives are matriarchal.”

Windu nodded towards a Jedi close to him, who stood up, opened a storage cabinet and handed Wraith a smooth orb.

“This is an updated galactic catalogue. Place it on the pedestal and identify the planet,” instructed Windu. Wraith followed his directions and soon the chambers darkened as the projection filled the room with and interactive map of the galaxy. Wraith paced around and finally pointed at a cluster.

“Here,” he said. He heard Obi-Wan Kenobi groan. The holographic image vanished as the assistant Jedi retrieved the orb.

“What?” Wraith directed to Kenobi.

“The planet you identified is Dathomir,” he replied. “The planet is run by the females, who are divided into clans. All of them are powerful Force adepts.”

“I still do not see the problem,” replied Wraith. “Dathomirian witches never leave their planet and those who do are heavily involved with the Sith,” explained Kenobi. “Darth Maul and Savage Oppress were both Dathomirian males. But the most dangerous is Asajj Ventress, a witch and Dooku’s former apprentice.”       

“Former?”

“He betrayed her, as is his nature. But she survived. Our sources tell us that she is a bounty hunter now.”

“Perhaps she is the one I seek,” said Wraith.

“For your sake I hope not,” muttered Kenobi.

“Whatever the case I need to follow the path shown to me by the Force,” said Wraith. “I will go to Dathomir. I have to see where the clues will lead me.”

“Agree I do,” said Yoda. “Focus on an individual, wise it is not. If Ventress you seek, find her you shall. But your answers the planet holds, not the individual. To Dathomir you must go. Assemble your team you must. Reach a climax the Clone Wars will soon.”

Future Deliberations

Part 14 of my Star Wars short story.

Future Deliberations

“Ah.” Master Yoda hobbled around, exhibiting rare restlessness. He finally settled down.

“Most interesting your story is.”

Wraith sat cross-legged at the very centre of the council chambers. He clasped his hands together, taking extra care not to make any sudden movements. He unrestrained the Force within him, allowing the Master Jedi inside the chambers to fully sense his powers. No secrets or deception: just bare naked truth.

After the altercation at the Temple entrance, Wraith had been escorted to the Council Chambers. He had surrendered his weapon to Master Yoda; “for the sake of civility,” he explained. It now hovered in a magnetic cell. None of the other Council members were happy about this: in fact, hostility lingered like a foul stench. When Yoda bade him to begin, Wraith bowed to each member present. He then sat down, making sure to put his hands in full view and finally settled down cross-legged. His movements were slow and deliberate; not that it mattered. They could sense his power and how vast it was.

Once they settled down, and the conspicuous Temple Guard settled themselves on the outside of the chambers, surrounding it like ants to a farm, Wraith began his tale. He relied to them everything, from his past as a Sith assassin, to the commando mission against Grievous to his prison sentence. He divulged the details of his enlightenment to Yoda, looking the small green creature dead in the eye.

Finally it was Mace Windu who posed the most pending question with very little tact.

“What do you want?”

Wraith took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Your backing. I will divulge every bit of information I know. But we both know that even with that knowledge, the Republic army is spread too thin to deal with the insurgents I speak of. There are other Sith, still in hiding, and I ask to deal with them.”

A collective look of confusion and perplexity flashed through the collective members.

“You want to ‘deal’ with them?” repeated Windu.

“Yes.” The simple reply seemed to infuriate the Jedi Master even more. His eyes darkened when he replied.

“The Sith are a Jedi matter. We do not entrust our forces to anyone other than the Jedi. Especially not to a former Sith with a very questionable story and training in deceit.”

“Yes, my story is unbelievable,” repaid Wraith. “But I do not seek your forces. I have seen the future. All of them in fact.” He looked every master in the eye. “In some I saw victory; in others, terror. But the Sith I speak of are in none. I must pave the way for the Clone Wars to run their course and let destiny take its due. I seek to restore balance to your universe.”

He spoke directly to Windu. “And I am the only one who can do it.”

“Are you saying that only you are powerful enough?”

“Yes.” Wraith paused. “You have all felt my power. Saw first-hand demonstration of it. That was just a fraction of what I shall unleash on those who seek to upturn balance.”

“Sources to spare, we have not.” Master Yoda’s voice cut through the tension.

“I do not seek your resources, Master,” replied Wraith. “I am merely telling you what to expect from me.” He uncrossed his legs aand placed his feet firmly on the ground. “I will seek out these Sith and eliminate them. With or without your approval.”

Silence rang in the chambers when Wraith finished. He placed both hands on his knees and leaned forward, as in to challenge any Jedi to speak. They all remained silent.

“Very well,” he said. “It seems that coming here was futile after all.” He rose from his seat and half the council members, including Windu, did the same.

“You do not honestly think that we will allow a Sith, even an allegedly reformed one, to leave this place do you?” asked Windu menacingly. Wraith turned his back to him and extended an arm towards the magnetic lock holding his lightsaber. Using the Force, the apparatus short circuited and the weapon zoomed into his awaiting hand.

Chaos erupted as every member, save Yoda who sat calmly on his chair, reached for their own weapon. The door hissed open and Temple Guards flooded the chamber, their pikes unignited, but at the ready.

“Perhaps to an agreement, we can come.” Yoda’s words had power in them. Everyone halted their movements, speaking only with their gazes.

“Wraith,” continued Yoda as his chair unhinged and he hovered about on a circular cushioned disk. “Our resources you do not need, yes?” he asked Wraith as he hovered around him.

“Yes,” replied Wraith as he eyes the Jedi surrounding him and their weapons.

“And no resources we have to give you, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then we are in agreement,” said Yoda with a laugh.

“It seems your council disagrees, Master Yoda,” replied Wraith. Yoda let out a chuckle.

“Because see what I see, they do not. Master Windu,” said the elderly Jedi as he addressed his partner. “Find no objection to eliminate Sith you do not.”

“That is true, Master Yoda,” replied Windu.

“But not your duty to the Jedi Order it is, yes?”

“That is also correct, Master Yoda.”

“Then no objection to Wraith doing it do you not have?”

“I do not trust Sith. Not to mention the issue of teams. We do not have the manpower for such a task.”

“Trust him I do not. But believe that he can -do it, I do. A team we do not have, but a ship we can spare.”

“How will that be of any help?” asked Windu.

“It will, if his own team he can find.”

The Council fell silent.

“An interesting idea,” said Wraith. “I shall operate like a Jedi Shadow of the Old Republic. But with my own crew members of non-Jedi. Now that I think about it, it is the perfect Shadow tactic. You still employ Shadows do you not?”

“Eliminated the need for them was.” Master Yoda looked away. “Bad decisions, even great minds make.”

“Then allow me the luxury of a ship and some time to meditate on my destination, and I shall come back with results,” said Wraith.

“More than that I shall give, if more than that I wish to receive,” said Yoda. “Like you, I do. Think you are evil, I do not. Misguided in the past you were. But sought redemption on your own you have. A great quality that is, greater than shown by most Jedi it is. More than a ship and time I shall give you. Help you seek balance, I shall. Teach you that way of the Light, I will.”

How Chocolate Choked Me - a Story from the Archives in my Head

I realize that lately I haven't posted anything funny, or indeed anything that was not strictly work related. So I think it's just about time were break this pattern. I'm not gonna bore you with details of my life during my absence: suffice it to say that I'm awaiting publishing news and it's mindfucking me. (I went 53 words without swearing - that's my new record during these troubled times).


So instead I decided to share with you guys a meaningless episode from my childhood which nearly left me dead. Oh, I can taste the funny already!


So. . .


This happened around the time I was eleven. Now you should know something about me as a kid: I was a glutton. I still have a ravenous sweet tooth but I like to think that over the years I have grown to control myself. People who have lived with me for any period of time may disagree but then again, this is my blog and my story, so I'll spin it however I damn well please. Anyone who disagrees is cordially invited to kiss my ass.

Anyway, back to the story. I have previously discovered the joy of putting a spoonful of white sugar in your mouth and letting the coarse crystals slowly brush against my tongue as they dissolved and became the progenitors of what I think will me the mother of all diabetic sucker punches. But I digress.
Having enjoyed the sugary taste, I sneaked downstairs into the kitchen once in order to shove white crystals in my mouth (sugar not meth). You should know that at that time I developed ninja skills to sneak past my mother or as I called her back then, the anti-sugar warden. Somehow under the guise of making coffee for the entire family, who was watching some crappy show upstairs. I thought I would reward my preteen taste buds with a spoonful of white crystal poison.
It was around this time that perhaps a week before, I had discovered the unique taste of hot chocolate and the elation it gave me every time it tickled my taste buds. So after I dunked a spoonful of sugar inside my mouth, I went ahead and prepared the beverages for my family.

Now here you can get a glimpse of how an idiot's mind works. I thought that if white sugar, in crystals tasted so good, so would the chocolate power, except it would be ten times the fun thanks to its chocolaty goodness.
So, enlightened as I was, I dunked my still-moist teaspoon inside the chocolate powder, scooped up a small powdery brown mound and promptly put it in my mouth, expecting to see cherubim and to have a slight orgasm as my sense of taste went in overdrive.


What happened next nearly took a turn to the macabre.


Now to this day I don't know what chocolate company it was, because I refused to consume anymore hot chocolate after this event, but they are lucky I didn't sue them, even though I'm an idiot.


I don't know how something so good could turn so deadly. Once the powdered chocolate hit my saliva, it morphed into a giant ball of death that lodged itself behind my throat and held fast. I could feel a small lump behind my trachea as if I had a Gremlin trying to escape or perhaps one of the hatchlings from the movie Alien. I suppose the fantasy geek that I am today would have thought it cool to have dragonite: but back then I was too busy trying not to choke to death. (I apologize if I lost half of you due to my erratic references: my reference range starts somewhere in 1972 and goes on until 2050).


So to summarize; I had snuck downstairs to have a spoonful of sugar, decided to upgrade to chocolate powder and then the chocolate evolved into a Stephen King short story. At this point, the stealth had been completely lost as I was bent over the sink drinking water straight from the tap, to try and dislodge the chocolate ball of death from my windpipe. I was making hacking noises that would have disgusted your cat.


During all of this, my parents were in the living room upstairs, enjoying a tv show from the late 70's which the entire world forgot about other than to Italian channels which my country latched onto like a bunny in heat.
My mother with her raptor like senses first sensed the disturbance in the Force, whilst my more mellow Dad couldn't care less about the world outside the cheesy kickboxing scene where the same guy wins Ike and time again against extras who were probably underpaid for their services.
"Ryan. Are you Ok?" I heard her ask.

It is here that I must pause and ponder on this fact. The mechanics of choking are easy enough to understand. I can't fucking breath! So how, in the name of all that is dumb, was I supposed to miraculously manage to inhale enough air and yell back a response, when my lungs were burning and my brain cells were dying.

So let me clear something up for everybody. When someone is panicking because they are dying, having you yell questions at them is not the ideal way to deal with that situation. I couldn't answer back.

So my mother yelled harder.

Here's what confuses me. Did she expect to scare the chocolate ball of doom away by using her mom voice? What could yelling at a suffocating person accomplish other than making their last moments alive a living hell because you had to scream instead of shutting the fuck up?!
What's more; as I stood bent over the sink trying to hack up the chocolate, my mother's voice became more urgent.
Causing me to panic even more.

Mind you, I'm not tryin to put down my mom or anything. All I'm saying is that even smart people can become dumb in some situation and it took my near death to get some blond moments out of my mother.
Again, thanks mom.

It was my dad who came to my rescue. Unlike my mom, dad keeps a cool head in dire situations: this is the guy you want around during an emergency. He quietly can down the stairs and, completely ignoring me, he heated the kettle up and waited.
By now I had become something of a tall smurf and I could just make out a giant scythe as a shadowy figure in a black tattered robe pointed and laughed at me. So yeah, the Grim Reaper is a jackass. Just in case you were wondering.
Methodically, my dad reached out for a glass and poured scalding water straight from the kettle into the glass. He promptly grasped my chin with one hand as he poured the boiling water down my throat.
Now before you start judging remember that this guy saved my life my melting the powder in my throat. Secondly, my dad is tough. As in old school tough. I mean not only did his guy build the old school, he went over the site and built it himself because he wouldn't hire any damn foreigners.
Needless to say, it hurt a lot. There were no permanent injuries except that my lips became twice the size of Angelina Jolie's and my tongue devolved into a thick red raw mass the size of Kim Kardashian's ass.
There was a lot of crying and whining with my dad giving me subliminal looks. After about an hour or two I was somewhat OK, albeit scared out of my wits.

As soon as they tucked me in and said goodnight I asked them whether I could stay home from school after such a traumatic event and having my face look like something out of a horrid reality show.
My parents did not even blink.
"You can breath and you can talk. That's all you need for school. Next time stay away from the hot chocolate."

So I guess I learnt two things that night. 1. If you are choking on something powdery, drinking water at volcanic levels of heat might just do the trick.
And 2. If you think that you can get out of school by choking on a ball of chocolate and then have the insides of your mouth scalded by the same boiling water that saved your life - think again. It doesn't work.

Take my word for it. I've tried.