The Almost Report is Over for a Couple of Minutes

[Wyvern]

A sad kazoo medley begins playing in the background as the words “Almost Report” appear in text over a green background, followed by a range of dates similar to what one might find on the head of a tombstone. The kazoo continues whining away as the green background and text fade away to reveal what appears to be the old Almost Report HQ, prior to the dynamite blast that had wrecked it and the invasions of pennite quarters that ensued. The camera pans across the messy and cramped little broadcasting space that marked the Report’s origins until it reaches an unfamiliar green reclining chair, the back of which is turned to the screen. A fireplace crackles away in a little news box on the upper right-hand corner of the screen, not actually in the room but giving the setting a tiny bit more atmosphere. The chair slowly turns to reveal an ever-so-slightly younger Wyvern, who is dressed in a red smoking jacket with a “W” insignia scratched into the frontal breast area. The overgrown lizard gnaws on a chocolate pipe between his teeth, but sets on his lap as he faces the cameras.

 

“Greetingssss, I’m Wyvern Q. Almostdragon, hossst of the Almost Report.” Wyvern cocks a claw back at the “W” insignia on his jacket to add a bit of machismo to the statement, then clears his throat and gets back into a slightly more somber mood. “Well, former host… If you’re watching this video, I’m afraid that the Almost Report has come to an end.”

 

The kazoo continues playing in the background as Wyvern reaches into a pocket of his sweat pants and pulls out a crumpled sheet of paper. He clears his throat as he unfolds the paper in front of his snout, and re-reads it in silence for a moment.

 

“Yesss, I’m afraid that the Almost Report is no more. This video is intended to be broadcast in case the Almost Report can no longer remain on the air and needs to be discontinued.” Wyvern reaches for the chocolate pipe and turns it in his claws. “While it’s impossible to look into the future and predict the cause of the Report’sss demise, I’d be willing to bet it has something to do with a certain Bob Suloberrin and his rival report… conniving bassstard. Anyway, here’sss hoping it was fun while it lasted. I wonder if we ever managed to hire an Almost Intern? Yeah right!”

 

Wyvern sighs and lifts himself from his seat, looking over his crumpled close-out speech once more and snorting. The position of the broadcasted news box fireplace makes it appear as though the reptilian reporter’s head is on fire.

 

“Of courssse, our resssignation wouldn’t be complete without a list of people to thank, so I’d jussst like to take a moment to send my deepessst regards out to…”

 

Wyvern’s hiss trails off as he stares at the document, his scaly features darkening and growing more and more angry. The overgrown lizard storms up to the camera and turns his “Thank You” list around so that the audience can clearly see it, revealing the word “NOBODY” written in bright red ink.

 

“Nobody! That’ssss right, nobody!” Wyvern scowls at the camera and points an accusatory claw, almost scratching the lens. “The Almossst Report is gone! And it’sss all your fau-“

 

Wyvern’s heated hisses are cut off as the image is suddenly reduced to static, only to be replaced by another image of a more up-to-date Wyvern, who is still dressed in last week’s shrunken barber’s bib due to budgetary restraints. The overgrown lizard taps the camera lens while holding the camera with his other claw, then sticks his snout into it and hisses:

 

“Thissss just in: the Almost Report will be able to continue its broadcastingsss, thanks to the ratingsss of last week’sss Report. I guess that goblin and troll crowds alike enjoyed all the melodrama that transsspired in it.” Wyvern hisses a sigh of relief mixed with anxiety, then brushes the sweat from his scales. “We’re currently on a bit of a shoessstring budget, but are about to make our way over to Appy and Aurora’s quarters to wish the two ladiessss a belated Happy Birthday. And probably beg for money while we’re at it as well.”

 

Wyvern mutters something to a figure off-screen, then begins moving forward with the camera still extended in front of him.

 

“In other news, hunting mavens shouldn’t forget to sign up for the latessst in the prestigious Werewolf seriesss, Werewolf XL. The sssign-up should be available for another week or so for any who are interesssted.” Wyvern swerves around a corner and pauses at a couch stationed in the Cabaret Room. “The thematic subtitle of the event is ‘Back to Basics,’ which isss probably a motto we’re going to have to follow on this Report for a while as well.”

 

Wyvern collapses onto the Cabaret couch to rest for a bit, tilting his neck back over the edge of one of its arms in exhaustion. He lets his forked tongue hang loose as his tail sways back and forth idly on the side.

 

“I guessss we’ll need to make another in-case-of-emergency-cancelation video at some point, when our geld allowsss for it.” Wyvern’s weary voice is accentuated by the crooked slant of his wings. “I meant everything I sssaid in that video, by the way.”

 

A few minutes pass in silence before a troglyodyte steps into the scene and whispers something into Wyvern’s ear. The troglyodyte then turns and scurries off-camera while Wyvern suddenly jerks up from his reclining position.

 

“Errrr, excccept the bit about not thanking anybody of coursssse.”

 

Wyvern strikes an extra nervous grin and twiddles his claws.

 

“We appreciate ALL our viewersss. Eh heh heh heh. Heh.”

[CheerMynx]

"Wyvie?"

Wyvern snapped his head away from the camera and in the direction of CheerMynx's voice. The cheerline stood in a tilted state - hips tilted, shoulders tilted, tail tilted, head tilted in confusion. One paw rested lightly on the cheerline's hip and the other carried more shopping bags (a sight that still made Wyvern twitch).

A view that made the Almost Dragon twitch in an entirely different manner, though, was the cheerline's outfit. To celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday, CheerMynx was wearing an extremely short dress that vaguely resembled that of a woman pioneer. Or a dress said woman used to wear as a child and had tried on to see if it still fit...

"Gaaaaaaar," Wyvern drooled, causing CheerMynx to snort laughter and scrunch her nose cutely.

"Oh Wyvie, you're like, so weird," she giggled and flounced into the room, dumping the bags on the couch next to Wyvern.

"So, like, what's up with the funding?" the cheerline asked, tail twitching hypnotically as she rummaged through a bag, stopping to look at Wyvern when he didn't respond for a moment.

"Gaaaar?" Wyvern tried again, before he shook his head and cleared his throat. "Uuuuh, funding?"

"Yeah! I like, just went shopping on High Street and they, like, tore up the News Report credit card!"

Wyvern blinked in shock as the news sank in.

"T-t-tore it up?" He began to tremble slightly at the thought of just how much CheerMynx had spent to have the card taken off her.

"Totally! They said it was like, HUNDREDS of geld over it's limit or something!" CheerMynx shrugged and went back to rummaging through her bags. "It was, like, okay though. I had Mynx's Plat card with me, but you should like really look into that! Anyway, here! I like, brought some stuff for like a Thanksgiving party or whateveryoucallit!"

Beaming, CheerMynx turned and presented Wyvern with a humiliating paper turkey hat, a brightly coloured noisemaker, and a plate of food. Wyvern accepted all of this dumbly as the cheerline continued to talk, telling him about her day and complaining idly about a lack of scripts or actual camera time. The Almost Dragon nodded vaguely, pretending to listen as his mind turned over the fact that CheerMynx, by way of Mynx, had a Platinum card...

[Wyvern]

Wyvern's thoughts wandered from Mynx's additional card to CheerMynx's additional curves to Mynx's source of funds to CheerMynx's source of fun to Mynx's plastic advantage to CheerMynx's... non-plastic advantages. The overgrown lizard shook the dancing felines from his head for a moment and stared into his plate of pink marshmellow candy yams, brooding over the new potential source of income while desperately trying to keep his eyes away from the tighter regions of CheerMynx's Thanksgiving dress. The movements of the cheerline as she breezed through her words didn't help Wyvern's concentration one bit.

 

"So like, I totally think that the cameras could do like a CheerMynx shopping hour and then there'd totally be more time for the script! Don't you think Wyv?"

 

Wyvern nodded absent-mindedly and poked at his food, only to suddenly start shaking his head vigurously as he realized what the cheerline was saying.

 

"Uhhh l-l-l-lisssten Cheermynxy, a-about the f-f-fund and the sh-shopping ssstuff. I uhhhmm, well I really really-"

 

"Like it?! I know, isn't it awesome?" CheerMynx giggled and traced her paws down the sides of her dress to accentuate it, causing Wyvern to swoon and nod dumbly. "Don't worry, there's plenty more new clothes where that came from."

 

Wyvern raised a claw to speak about the budget, only to find himself once again a bit tongue-tied over the Almost Intern's finesse. CheerMynx the woman pioneer was like a map of America itself, with her own northern and southern American landmarks... not to mention current economic crisis. Wyvern tipped his turkey hat further over his horns in the hopes of hiding his googly eyes from CheerMynx's line of sight, then grabbed a napkin with a picture of a turkey feather pompom on it and quickly went about scribbling a note.

 

"Dear Minx, Halp, pls snd geld. Luv, Wyvvirn."

 

Now, if only he could make it to Mynx's weapon drawer...