Lock-in.

Everything hurts.


My fingers, my eyelids, and everything in between.


That... 'May of Troy' is mean.

When any of us tried to make a move, she'd beat us with her purse.

Eventually, I went too far.

We all suffered.

Gregroy had to come rescue us.

QUite embarassing.

I prefer Chia.

I should steal her numbner from Erik and call her up.

Yes, I should...

My name is Omar the Bold, and I hate the late Olaf the Bald.

New Viking.

Gregory came into our bunkhouse today to talk to the five of us (that's Erik the Red, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, George the Yellow, Phil the Conceited, and me) because he has been so far unimpressed with our behavior since the Battle with the Urgur.

"I know Olaf was the comic relief of you guys," he said. "But watching you with my secret cameras has just gotten boring. All you do is sit around."

"And?" I asked grumpily, sensing some sort of Madcap hijinks.

"I want you guys to have some madcap Hijinks," he said, shoving a very beautiful girl into the room.

She wasn't half as pretty as Chia the Mace (the one I made out with), but Chia is perfectly perfect, so that means this new girl was mighty fine on a normal scale.

"Her name is May of Troy, and I'm locking you all in here with her for three days."

With that, Gregory the Hairy slammed the door shut.

We heard a visible click.

"yaaaaaaay..." I moaned.

TO be continued...

On the ship.

Gregory the Hairy asked me to take Olaf's position as the official ship's blogger.

So I accepted.

George the Yellow and Phil the Conceited got into a fight today.

Phil yelled, "All you do is think of yourself, George!"

George responded, "Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-what?"

"Yeah, you think you're brave and tough and mean!"

"N-n-no I don't!"

"And everybody hates you!"

"No, I don't," Erik the Noisy said.

"Me neither," Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe said.

"I think you think George is you," I said.

Phil realized his mistake, but, true to character, refused to admit he was wrong.

"I mean, his name even suggests of stuck-up stubbornness," Phil said.

"His name is 'Yellow.' That means a frightened coward. Your name is Conceited. That means being full of stuck-up stubbornness," Soren said.

Phil then smashed the boat with his headrest in anger, then told Gregory that it wasn't his fault, but ours.

I don't like building new ships with only two other people helping.

Darn that Phil.

My name is Omar the Bold, and I'm starting to hate Phil the Conceited, and I hate the late Olaf the Bald.

In memory.

I no longer have someone to hate.


Olaf has been gone for forty-eight days without return.


You'd think I'd be happy, but... I'm not.


I know what you're thinking: 'Now that Olaf's gone, you realize you no longer have a purpose.'


Nope.


I'm thinking, 'I'm not the one who got to kill him.'


This is sad for me.


Soren told me that the last of the blog posts he wrote ended yesterday, so I suppose its my turn to explain what I was thinking that fateful day when I made out with Chia.

Even though I hate Olaf, I mus admit he has good taste in women.

Chia is HAWT.

And when she started crying about how Olaf was gone... and how she wanted a celebration kiss... I panicked.

Well, I didn't really panic, I just followed an urge.

Strongly.

We all think Olaf's dead now, anyway.

He would have figured out some way to find a laptop and blog about where he is.

He always does that.

And since he hasn't ...

Well, I assume the best.

Since Soren's Story is done, the entire crew of the Bloodhound III vowed to no longer read Olaf's blog, as that would be a disgrace to his person.

I never read that trash anyway.

My name is Omar the Bold, and I hate the late Olaf the Bald.

Technically.

Technically, there has been One Hundred and Seventy-Two Blog posts, since, of course, Olaf's site is my sister site.

Actually, he calls MY site the sister site, but he's stupid.

And what sort of foul-mouthed freak makes a song about specail eduaction after talking to ME?

Seriously?

My name is Omar the Bold, and I hate Olaf the Bald.

Ew.

I woke up relatively early today and decided to attempt to kill Olaf.

I snuck up to his room.

I could hear typing.

I slowly opened the door.

Olaf was sitting at his Laptop, typing up yet another one of his blog posts.

Completely naked.

Never again will I wake up early and try to kill Olaf.

My name is Omar the Bold, and I hate Olaf the Bald.

Stupid other people.

Gregory the Hairy yelled at me today because over the last week, I didn't blog the numbers of how many ninas I killed, I just complained about Olaf.

He said the digression was intolerable.

Stupid Olaf for following the rules.

One day, Olaf... one day....

My name is Omar the Bold, and I hate Olaf the Bald.