It was one of those weeks when my arm had

It was one of those weeks when my arm had looked like it had been put in a food blender. As I was getting changed for P.E one of the mean slutty girls noticed my acts of self harm.

"Your arm!" she gasped."It's a masterpiece!" Puzzled, I looked down. If I squinted my eyes just so, I could see what she meant. Mona Lisa looked benevolently at me from my cut arm

. After that I couldn't mutilate my arm for fear of ruining the likeness. As the scars healed the blotchy spots looked more & more like the famous Da Vinci masterpiece. Mona's smil

e was on my elbow, that meant, now follow this, that meant that if I was so bold as to be shirtless on the tarmac, I could show the pilots Da vinci's

ideal male form by flapping my arms up and down & so averting disaster. But pilots don't get the training these days & mistook my Vitruvian Man for instructions to take off. It

. We hung out in the bombed out crater of a Wendy's. With my college roomies' help, I was able to get a generator up and running. We could play Halo until the end of time.

We were playing Halo inside a Halo-esque world; soon we would realise the trouble amidst. A Wendy's employer ran down the slope with four eyes and a pair of pincers for hands.

"Well, when in Halo...be damn sure to be the Master Chief" I mutter to myself, ready to take the final step. With a cool gaze and steady hand, I point at the four-eyed fiend and

we do our time step routine for one last time.it was the end of an era.