Wow, 300 posts! Awesome!!!

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This thread needs more action! While we wait for my ever-so-slow typing to be ready, I thought of a game we could play! It's a quote game! You get to quote from the story and guess who said it--for now let's stick to dialogue only. Whoever gets it right gets to go next!* (Try not to look it up, but if you have to, that's fine. :P)

The First Quote:

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"What a considerate person, to realize an AE's need to madly dash everywhere."

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*And also recieves a clock that turns into chocolate at 12:00 (noon) the next day. 

TOPTOPTOP

Nobody saw the post...Let it be known that there is now a quote game going on while I write the story!

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I'm so sorry about the wait. I've been trying to give myself a story bumper to make things easier, so I paused posting for a little. I'm so terribly sorry to keep you guys waiting. I'm at the height of the plot where I set into stone the murderer's motives, and if I mess up just one sentence then the whole story changes. I will MAKE MYSELF post more! Because I fear that you guys are forgetting important details now! Anyway, here's some more of the story:

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The group rushed through the house. The maids stuffed the snails underneath the cabinets on their way to the back, carefully attatching a baby-proofer to the handle of it. (Why did they have those things laying around, anyway?)

The farmer found himself drowned by CBers and AEs when he reached the back door. They evidently wanted to see the new button first, before he did. Puck was pushed along to the front of the concerned group to show them what in the world it looked like; however, Shadow Dragon pulled Over the Rainbow and Joss to the back of the group and whispered something into their ears.

The three nodded subtly, and resumed their curious investigation.

"It says, "MHO123456789", just like Puck said it would..." Booksy Owly said solemnly.

"Please, clear a way! I need to see this," ordered the farmer as he pushed through the obedient CBers. He gazed at the new button. He wrinkled his brow. He crouched down and stared at it closer still. Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Another tense sixty-second interval crawled by. Finally, after a third minute struggled to end, the farmer pressed the crowd back, to the edge of the pool. Silently, solemnly, anxiously--no one knew what to think of this situation--the farmer picked up a stray rock and, with his best aim, hurled it at the newest button. 

The rock hit the button, and the slinger 2000 geared up and slung nothing in the direction of the tall grass--the same place Joss, Over the Rainbow, and Shadow Dragon had been just a few days ago. The threes' jaws dropped at the slinger as if it had just opened its mouth and shouted, "Haiya, folks! Come an' ride me! Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!"

Puck gave them a queer look.

Joss looked at a loss as to what to do. Every one of the CBers looked slightly ancy with anticipation. Was Sydney alive, or not? Where was she? They had come to fear the murderer's newly renowned reputation. Joss, the one CBer whose brain wasn't buzzing with fear, leftover victory, and generalized brain mushiness, had an idea. The murderer's too smart. I can't just pull the farmer aside. I'll do something else. 

"Um! Farmer! Hey...How do we know the snails actually slung Sydney on that particular course? This could just be a trap..."

Poetic Panda smiled at those words. What a close call!

"You're right, Joss," the farmer agreed. "So very right. But we cannot feel unworried because we're all here," he reminded them. Out of curiosity, the CBers counted each other. Sure enough, every living CAPTCHA, AE, and CBer was there and accounted for; save for the subject of this conversation, Sydney. "We cannot forget about the murderer's army of animals. One thing for sure has come out of this battle, and that one thing is the murderer's acceptance of our invitation. War is official. We can't have any squalms about enprisoning, being enprisoned, or even death. I'm sorry, but it is so. And I do not want to put any of your lives at risk, at least, not until you've had proper training, so I am going to ask you to go sit calmly in the living room while I sort this out. Dragonrider, I am going to need your IPad for this. You may need to show me how to, ah, work it." Once again, the CBers were reminded of the farmer's old heritage. 

The CBers disappointedly trudged into the living room. Alas, the farmer was right in his thinking, and none of them were more eager to die than the next right-minded CBer, but it felt wrong to stand by while their friend was in danger. Dragonrider fetched her IPad for the farmer and gave him a quick tutorial, then joined the others. Turgon thumped up the stairs to check on his egg, on which had appeared a tiny, hairline crack. The farmer's assistant, who had taken the liberties of watching the CBers, had warned him that dragon eggs can take up to a month to hatch, even after their first crack. Turgon still had his hopes up that it would hatch that night.

Meanwhile, the farmer was standing in the backyard.

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"Curses on this wierd doo-hickey. Why is it called an I-Pad, anyway? Does it stand for irking padlock? Dragonrider told me what to do when it turned black. Don't I have to swipe it upwards? Call me a Luddite, but I hate these newfangled touch screens."

Finally he navigated his way into the Marauder's Map app and squinted at the screen. He looked at the parchment-themed touchscreen and looked for a scroll marked 'Sydney'. He found one, but it was over by the grass field, where 'MHO' was.

The farmer sighed. What if this murderer had set a trap down there? She certainly was smart, and the farmer knew a plot when he saw one. This one was just getting started. He sighed again. He shouldn't be wasting time. That girl was in danger, and he was her only hope. How was he going to do this? 

(To the tune of "Mary had a Little Lamb")

Let's go to the tip--py top...

Tippy--top,

Tippy top!

Let's go to the

Tip--py top

And do not e--ven stop!