CHAPTER 4

Meanwhile, realizing he'd been following the same storyline for almost two chapters now, the author abruptly shifted focus, to a dark and shadowy underground room, many miles west from where Professor Landover and his colleagues were pondering the mysterious significance of the Manlison diary.

Why, a shadowy figure wondered, why must we reside in such a dark and shadowy room underground that smells not so slightly of mold and wet rot? Wouldn’t a well-ventilated skyscraper be more suited to our purposes?

“Perhaps,” his henchmen responded, sidestepping the figure’s pet attack koala as he entered the room, “It represents dually our dark and malicious nature, as well as serving as a metaphor for the portions of our operations that are yet obscured from the reader.”

“Interesting,” the shadowy figure said, “but how did you know what I was thinking?”

“Oh, you didn’t think it.” said the henchmen. “You simply said it in a fashion the author felt would be represented by italics.”

The figure pondered this statement. “That defies many principles of commonly accepted literary logic.”

“A good point. This whole chapter is starting to seem a bit superfluous,” the henchmen said.

“I guess it does remind the reader that there’s an antagonist in this whole situation.”

“True. Also, it does introduce the attack koala, which will undoubtedly play a part of greater significance later in the narrative.”

The shadowy figure and his henchmen sat in silence for a moment.

The attack koala simply smiled.

CHAPTER 3

The plane touched down on the dusty runway. As Franklin kicked the dust from his boots, and watched dust-storms form in the far-off distance, he couldn't help but smile. Australia was exactly as he remembered - really freakin' dusty.

A familiar voice called out to Franklin. "Franklin Landover!" It said. "I never thought I'd see the day!"

Hearing the voice, Franklin smiled, then coughed a little bit.

"Watch that Australian dust," the man said, "It can be rough on those little pink things you Americans like to call lungs."

"Really, Leonard," Franklin said, cracking another trademark smile, the third such this chatper, "What do you call them, then?"

"Lungs," said Leonard, surprised a renowned academic such as Professor Landover didn't know that the Australians, much like the English, also spoke American.

"But you didn't come here to quibble over anatomy, did you Franklin?"

"Only the anatomy of mystery, my good chum." Franklin responded. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

As he said this, Professor Landover presented the object he held in his left hand, previously hidden behind his back.

"The diary." Leonard said, with a thin smile.

"Yes," Landover responded. "The diary. Who would have thought that such a tiny little book, filled with tiny little written words, could hold so many sentences."

"And those sentences making up paragraphs." Leonard said.

"And those paragraphs," Robert chuckled, "Well, we know what those paragraphs make up."

As the two men shared a laugh, mirthful but not overly jocular, a third figure appeared at the door. The men stopped, and turned to face this newcomer.

"Well boys," the figure said. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

"On the contrary, Miss Katia Manlison," Leonard said in an introductory fashion, "Your interuption will allow us to continue the most important work of all."