A young boy lays unconcious on a beach.  His head perched against a rock, his back against the sand, the sun reflecting on his sunburnt face.
	He slowly gains conciousness.  He forces his eyes open and lays there, traces of exhaustion lingering in his body.  He slowly sits upright, his eyes glinting against sunlight.  He quietly sits there in a blank state of mind, massaging the aches all over his body.  He turns his head about and takes a look at his surroundings: a beach to his right and a mountanous jungle to his left.  He sits there for another couple of seconds, still blank faced.  Then the realization finally catches up to him.  His plane has crashed and he's wrecked on a beach.  He has no idea where he is.  "Oh shimata...", rasps the young boy.
	He finds the strength to stand himself up.  He looks down on his body and realizes his clothes are torn and turned to rags.  He inspects himself further looking for injuries, but only found minor scratches and bruises.  Other than feeling exhausted and sore, he found himself to be in a pretty good state.  "Yokahkta", the boy says in relief.
	His attention turns back to his surroundings.  He takes a closer look around him, eyes scanning the horizon, hoping that someone might be nearby.  He is dissapointed.
	The tall sun was beaming down viciously, there were no clouds in sight.  It felt like hot fire on his neck.  The boy could not gather his thoughts clearly.  He slowly makes his way to the edge of the forest to find shelter.  He sits down against the first tree he finds, panting and struggling to catch his breathe.  He is in worst shape than he thought he was.
	The boy tries to recollect memories of what happened leading up to the plane crash.  But only fragments of images came to his mind.  He was traveling alone.  There was a storm and the plane was experiencing strong turbulance.  Next thing the cockpit tore open and everyone was scrambling to get their life jackets on.  He tries to piece the rest of the events together, and concludes that he swam here from the ocean when the plane crashed.  "Sugeiii~", he said to himself in amazement.  He never really was a strong swimmer.
	But everything starts to dawn on the young boy now.  Hes starting to realize what a dire situation he is in.  His plane was flying across oceans and crashed near an island.  Hopes of finding other survivors or being near any kind of civilization quickly fades from his mind.  "Murri murri, zettai murri...", says the boy in a worried voice.
	The poor boy starts to panic.  All he wanted to do was take a vacation.  Take a break from his hometown called Team Liquid.  All he really wanted to do was free himself from the clutches of The Linear Assholes Damned To Irk Rage and Critisize aka:  TLADTIRC.  "Such a men-dok-sai", the boy groans as he reminds himself of them.
	But then he starts to look at things in an optimistic way.  Sure he may be stranded alone, in an island thousands of miles away from the nearest civilization.  But at least now he can breathe and not worry about people picking on him.
	He looks up, closes his eyes, takes a deep breathe, and cracks a grin.  "This isnt so bad isnt it, solidbebe?",  the boy says to himself.
"At least Im free of 'those' Assholes".
-End