For anyone interested the full lemon version of 'One Straw' is posted at mediaminer, in the fanfiction section.

Some of you may remember about four months or so ago I had a hard-drive malfunction and lost all my work. Well for a while after everything was fixed I was kind of depressed at the thought of having to redo all of the work I'd lost. To help me get over it I decided to turn my 'traumatic' experience into humour, taking the axiom 'You'll laugh about this one day.' to heart. So I wrote this.

The story of my hard-drive

Hello, I've got to say thanks for the kind words, they make me go all warm and fuzzy. Which is a very good thing for an author. I'm also writing to let you know why it's taking so long to write the next chapter.

Once upon a time in a far away land called Australia there was a writer, we'll call this writer Porthos112 for want of a better name and I assure you there are many such things. One day he was writing away, the clicking and rattling of the keyboard was nigh deafening and then lo, an evil sound spawned from the bowels of hell, or at least the bowels of his computer which are often confused one for the other, did burst forth from yon computer box. Confused and maybe a little scared the intrepid key pounder stopped pounding to ponder what yon noise could be and lo he thought, verily it just be a cooling fan on the fritz but he was wrong, wrong I tell you and truly for it was not the cooling fan as the sound got louder and louder that became clear.

Then what the young (for in his mind he is such) writer thought, there are few parts that move within such a computer as this. And then as he began to dread the candle of realization did dimly illuminate his addled mind.

"Oh no!" he cried, "Let it not be that which I fear!" And lo the noise that vexed him so did stop. He sighed in relief it was not as he feared, it was not, see for now there was no sound at all. 'Wait a second,' he thought to himself for verily he suffers not from the attainment of multiple personalities and could not say it to another, 'since when does my computer utter such silence as this?' He moved his mouse and the arrow did fail to move, he pounded keys in vain, even his favourite keys such as crtl-alt + del failed to wring a response from the malfunctioning machine. Then he turned his computer off thinking that a hard boot would do it some good, and if not he had a hammer if kicking it failed. No luck did he have for the computer remained as inert as a rock mired in mud.

Knowing that such things were beyond his ken he took the machine to a computer smith who upon examination of the inert artifact did inform him, "Foresooth I do believe yon Harddrive has been fried."

"Foresooth! Fried you say!"

"Yes! Fried!"

"Can thou fixeth fried drive forthwith?"

"Nay I fear this fried part has truly bitten the dust."

"My God," he cried to the heavens falling to his knees, hands clasped in prayer, "Hast thou forsaken me?" his voice cracked with emotion the young man did listen almost in vain for a reply, but not all was in vain for he heard faintly as if only a breeze.

"Not I, for I wouldst not do this foul thing, twas Western Digital." A spark of ire lit within the writer of fanfiction as he found worthy targets in the naming of the manufactory that had produced his drive, and he turned to the smith and asked.

"Ist there anything that can be done? My work, can it, at least be saved?" Sorrowfully the smith regarded him and shook his head.

"Aye there are those that could recover your manuscripts through arcane and mystical skills and surely they would succeed but the cost I fear would be great," and the man did quote some hefty prices to which the author looked askance and said.

"Bugger that!" and turned away in despair.

"But wait!" said the computersmith, "There is somesuch that can be done to regain a harddrive from those that did deal such a blow to you."

"What? What can ones such as they do for me now?" a slow and silent tear rolled down his cheek as he contemplated all that he had lost.

"The facts are clear, your invoice doth state that only nine months have passed since thee bought yon faulty piece of trash."

"Oh and thank ye for reminding me of such," he glared at the smug sounding man.

"Nay, hear me out for I have news that is good. It is true that great woe hath befallen thee, but there is grand news I would impart. For until the drive were of three years it is covered by warranty."

"Warranty?" he asked with dawning hope in his eyes.

"Aye an it is so. I can send it hence and the people responsible for perpetrating this tragedy shall make it right with thee."

"Shall they restore my data then." Once again the flame of hope burst forth in his heart only to die a cruel and viscious death.

"Alas no, such can not be done by them. For they are too mighty for such deeds to be expected of them, but they shall return to thee a like product that you can further your endeavors’ upon." and smile did he for he was the bearer of much good tidings.

"Oh thank you, you are my saviour for I know not what I wouldst have done without your words of mercy and wisdom. When? When may I hope to receive this manna from the heavens?"

"Well," the man temporized as he felt the news might not be as well received as he would hope, "it could take as much as several months, but fear not for it usually only takes a few weeks. In good conscience I really can not allow you to labour under such a hope though for even as they claim that this is the case it has not been my lot to experience such haste in response. I fear that it could be those several months before they return to you that which is yours by purchase right.”

"Drat and damn and double such curses for my mind doth bubble with ideas and words do tumble forth for want of a medium to be written down and shared with my avid readers. My wrists shall be sore by time they do return my drive to me."

"Now now young man there's no need to tell me such things, I need not the knowledge of what thee do to relieve thy frustration." The writer looked at him puzzled for surely there had been miscommunication betwixt the two.

"No, no you have misunderstood and verily I tell you, tis not that which thee think. I fear that I would have to write with primitive pen and paper and being unused to such I would be the sorer for the experience." And the computersmith did raise a knowing eye and say.

"Aye, aye, a likely story," but his tone of voice held the lie contained within his words.

"Please is there any way for me to gain relief from this condition? That I might continue to work my words into endeavours of great worth?"

The man looked around for a moment and pondered the request from his erstwhile customer. "I believe and there might be a way, but it will cost you just so we're clear. Both in time and in money."

"Whatever can you mean my good fellow?"

"There is the small matter of the purchase of a new harddrive so that you may continue to work while you await the return of your faulty merchandise, and then there is another matter of the time required to reinstall the necessary things for you to work."

"Oh! I see," said the writer, "I am not afeared of things such as this, tell me this price and be done with it." and he did and the author did say, "And I thought it would be a bad thing this price, whenst the truth be quite reasonable. I shall take it from you upon your installing it, that was part of the price was it not?" The man did wince but he'd been caught with the speed of his customers question and could think of no way to rebuff this gently worded demand.

"Aye, I suppose that is what I meant and to be sure." and he did as bade and then watched as the writer and his computer departed with a wave of the hand and a happy whistle as he contemplated what yet had to be done.

Upone reaching home the youth did install over the course of many hours all that he needed to begin again his life works and in triumph he clicked the icon that would allow him to do this thing and before him was a blank page, an empty screen. No file could he call up so that he might begin where he'd left off, such was not for he and despair and darkness did sweep once more into him as he begat the realization of what he'd lost. For it was not just the ideas for the chapters he was working on but those for several chapters to come. The research that he'd done to maintain some level of veracity in his wordsmithing, aye and even those things that he'd taken back to fix were gone and though he could make the changes again they would not be the same and this he knew.

For a long time that screen would remain bare as he wrestled with his inner demons but it seems in the end he hast won the battle and is again pounding the keys in joyous refrain as triumphal music pours from his speakers fuelling his endeavours. Aye he seems restored and wanting to continue so much, and he shall as I tell thee here.

And that is the tale of a lost soul, a man who has plumbed the depths of writers hell and come back, scarred and wary but still willing to write and share the dreams he has of the Ranmaverse. Look for his work in the future and you shall find it there for has he not released a chapter for the story 'One Straw'?. With these parting words I wish you good morrow and may the dawn find you reading his works once again.

Yours in good and revived health

Porthos112