Courtney checks her watch. It's 11:55 a.m. She's early. She's been there for a good 15 minutes now, staring at the doorway of 132 Sylvan St. from her purple 1997 Hyundai Accent parked across the street. At 11:58 a.m. she sees a car pull up in front. A white male in a sharp suit gets out of the driver side, looks around, goes directly to the passenger side, and opens it. The person getting out of the passenger side clearly needs help as she hobbles and struggles trying to get out of the car. When she does, Courtney sees that it's a small old black woman. The man gives her her walker, and she struts and strolls over to the doorway where he stands waiting with the door open for her. She walks through, and as he's about to close the door behind him he gives one last look around outside and spots Courtney. Courtney looks away immediately. He beams a smile at her and closes the door behind him. Courntey checks her watch. It's 12:00 p.m.

*knock knock*

She knocks on the door. No answer. She knocks again. Still no answer. Courtney takes it upon herself to open the door and go in. Upon entering the darkened room, her attention is immediately drawn to the smell of exotic spices and, to her suprise, applesauce.

"That's right. Applesauce is what you smell."

Courtney spins around. The old lady smiles up at her. "Relax sweety, here take a seat...oh come on now. Don't be nervous, there is no need to be." Courtney had a very weirded-out look on her face. All was not well in the little world that she had set up for herself.

"What's wrong, dear? You've had that worried look on your face for an hour now," said the old woman.

Courtney was pretty sure she had only been in the building for about four minutes. She checked her watch. Indeed, the old woman was correct. An hour had passed. But how?

"Um...Cat?" asked Drigmon.

"No silly, Khat. You're funny Driggy. Let's go take a walk. We'll bring Khat!" said Fanapalla.

"Um...sure." Drigmon was in no mood to take a walk, but if you'd been paying attention in the chapters before this one, you would have noticed that he's under some weird mind control thing. The same thing happened to me once and I've been with her for about 4½ years, but that has nothing to do with this story. At least i don't think so. Hmm...

Anyway, they're now taking the walk. Drigmon is holding a leash. The cat is on the other end of it. Fanapalla is nuzzled up on the arm of Drigmon that is currently unocupied by a leash with a cat on the end of it. (I take a breath and realize I don't like the way that last sentence came out. I could easily change it, but where is the fun in that.) Someone is watching them from a distance. Someone with black shoes, faded blue jeans, and an old crusty leather jacket. That's the last you'll hear about that person. Drigmon likes the feel of Fanapalla nestled up against him. There is something of a warm fuzzy feeling lingering inside him. They stop at a hotdog stand, pick up a couple of meat weenies and are on their way.

"Driggy sweety, we're gonna stop by the nuclear power plant for a little bit. I need to open a porthole into another dimension. I won't be long, is that okay sweety?"

A nuclear power plant. Okay wait...she wants to make a quik trip to the local nuclear power plant to open some dimension thingy? This Fanapalla chick is insane. What the heck is wrong with our hero for him to even be associated with this woman?

"Uh...yeah, sure."

Hmm, okay, obviously a lot is wrong with our hero. This seems like a really good time to end this chapter or to start talking about one of the other characters, but I feel bad cuz it took so long for this installment to come out. So I'll keep writing about Driggy and Fanapalla, but be warned, I...um, I can't think of anything threatening right now. But golly, just be warned! (p.s. kinda. I might erase all of the blathering in this paragraph later, so don't be suprised if you're rereading this at some point and it's not here~thippy)

Fast-forward for about 30 minutes now. They took their walk through the rest of the park and grabbed a taxi at the corner of Sullivan St. They are now at the power plant.

"You wait right here with Khat, I'll be out in a couple minutes," said Fanapalla.

"Okay."

"Meow."

Fanapalla entered the revolving doors of the Nuclear power plant. The architect who designed it was obsessed with the color white. After he died, they painted it like grey and some other colors. She walked over to the receptionist, told her some things about herself that were entirely true, and the poor woman began to cry and ran out of the building. Fanapalla proceeded to walk through a door which clearly stated you shouldn't be inside unless you worked there.

"Meow?" asked the cat upon seeing the woman run out of the building crying.

"I suppose," replied Drigmon. "Say, um...Khat, yesterday morning you spoke to me. Is there a chance you will ever do that again?"

"Possibly. I'm not really supposed to talk a whole lot to you yet. But you are in great danger," said the cat.

"What? Who? When? What'll happen?" asked Drigmon, kinda nervous now.

"That is honestly all I can tell you right now. But remember this, I love you more than you will every know. And every time I see you kiss Fanapalla's lips, It's like someone is taking a knife and cutting off all my nipples."

Drigmon stared down at the cat with utter surprise. What exactly do you say to someone who says that to you while your in love with someone else? It was hard enough that Drigmon knew this, but to hear it from a cat. Well, What would you say?

"God you look beautiful out here," declared Fanapalla.

"WHAT?" yelled Drigmon, shocked and suprised.

"Whoa, easy there tiger. What's got you spooked? I'm all set here, We can take off now. Wanna walk back or should we get another taxi?"

She seemed as beautiful as ever, her long flowing hair, her soft smooth skin, her voice like light, and that smell, How could he ever forget that smell. Truth be told, that smell is the only thing keeping Fanapalla at Drigmon's side. Each time he takes it into his lungs, deeper in love he becomes, more beautiful she looks, and more willing Drigmon is to doing absolutely anything she asks of him.

"Meow," said Khat, rubbing her little cat head up against Drigmon's leg. Drigmon, staring down at the cat, noticed the cat's tail was spelling a word in the dirt behind it. He saw a "T" and an "A" and an "X" and as the cat was still drawing in the dirt, he started to see what looked like an "I". T-A-X-I. "Taxi," thought Drigmon.

"We'll take a taxi, darling," said Drigmon winking at the cat.

"MEOW??!!" shrieked the cat, as if to say "no, you fool, I'm not done, look back, look back! Here, let me finish." But alas, the cat did not say that, and in the presence of Fanapalla, wouldn't dare make any type of sound that a cat wouldn't make.

"Okay fine, lets go to the main street over there and get on. Come on, chop chop." said Fanapalla hurriedly.

"Meow!" meowed the cat at Drigmon as Drigmon was pulling Khat's leash and as Fanapalla was pulling Drigmon's leash-Err, I mean as Fanapalla was pulling Drigmon's wrist, directing them towards the main street. The cat was still meowing as if something was terribly wrong. Drigmon and Fanapalla passed the behavior off like the cat was doing some kind of mating call thing. If we were to look back at the rest of what the cat had been writing, we would see "T-A-X-E A W-O-K." And for those that need the visual help due to an imagination that's a little tired or not up to snuff, I'll kinda show you. Ya see, when written kinda squiggly in the dirt, with a cat tail, sometimes a "K" can look and awful lot like an "X." K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X,K-X...to be continued.