"Saturday," the merry voice of my muse chirped from over my shoulder and I didn't even bother looking back. "Remember, when your computer froze and you lost three paragraphs of Nightshade's Promise?"

I sighed. "Don't remind me, please. I haven't been able to get back to writing since then. The update had to get started and there is just no way I can fit the entire site into it this week. I'll have to put off some things to next week."

"You're always putting off things!" a sharp voice interrupted and I went completely and utterly still. I had not just heard that. It wasn't my dad. It wasn't our housemates, or (thank Goddess!) their child. It wasn't Windflame. Little footsteps sounded, and I saw a pair of feet in front of me. On my computer table. Right in front of my keyboard.

Slowly my eyes traveled up to see a two inch tall Billy Cranston in front of me, slightly battered but still looking incredibly gorgeous. "Who. . .are...you?" I stuttered the words out like an idiot. "You can't be Billy!"

"To be perfectly accurate, I'm the Billy from Shades of Green. I've got some friends who want to talk to you, too." He pointed to just behind the computer and I at once decided to save myself and the entire cosmos a whole lot of time and go stark raving insane.

Hanging off the computer. Perched on the printer. Lowering a minature bucket into the opening of one of my discarded Dr. Pepper cans, obviously spelunking for something to drink. Pulling on my cat's tail (the poor creature will never be the same). Crawling into my bag of cheet-os. ..hey, wait a minute! "Rocky! Er.....Rockies!!" I reached in and hauled out three Rocky DeSantos and took a long look at them.

One of them had 'You're Not Alone' printed neatly on his gray shirt. The second one was wearing red, with 'I Will Remember You' displayed proudly. The third had a brownish outfit on, tinged slightly blue, but no other identifying marks. I knew him at once for the Rocky from 'Ranger of the Earth'.

"This is not happening," I put them all down and put my head in my hands. "Windflame, tell me this isn't happening!"

"Sorry, kid," the dragon shrugged. "I sent for them. I figured you need some kind of boost to get you back into the spirit. So I called you some creativity demons."

I delivered a stare at my muse that by all the laws of the universe should have rendered her into dust. "Thanks. Thanks so much. I already had you to contend with, and now these things?" I didn't look very thrilled, and I wasn't.

"We're here to stay." Tommy Oliver, wearing purple, spoke up, and I practically flinched. I knew I was going to regret rewriting that particular era of PR history...

Windflame hopped down and perched herself on my shoulder, looking into my eyes with something that was either caring, amusement, or a deep desire for torture. Knowing her, it was all three. "There's one way you can get rid of them, you know."

"How!" I was practically screaming! "I don't want to have these guys everywhere in my room!" Something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye and I turned quickly to see Phantom Ranger, Cassie, Kat, & Tommy sneaking over to a dark corner of my room. "Halt right there. Rule 1, if you people are going to stay here. No one, especially the four of you, goes off where I can't see them."

My muse grinned. "Write their stories, kid. Write their stories, finish them, and they'll go away. A creativity demon, at least this variety, only exists as long as their story is unwritten. When it's done, then they vanish."

I looked around. I couldn't count how many little characters there were. I even spied a small group of Digimon in the back, talking with what looked like the Galactabeasts. I just looked, sliding into my chair and forcing an irate Zedd out of the way. "I've got no choice." I sighed, but I could feel something tingling in the tips of my fingers. I'd only felt that a few times before, but I knew it for what it was.

The desire. As I settled down in front of the computer, I felt a slight urge for something else. In under twenty minutes, I had it all set up. The newest of my muse-fics. Detailing out what was going on. It primed my pump, so to speak. The tingle in my fingers was growing stronger with every keystroke, and was spreading all throughout me.

Windflame perched on my right shoulder, tail circling around to wrap around my neck. Kim, Kat, Tommy, David, and Nightshade, an invented character of mine, hopped onto my TV, situated not far from my computer. Everyone else perched on various parts of the room, watching and pushing each other around, trying to decide who was going to be next. Those who were involved in songfics were in the lead, since I like those to be short and I wanted to write as many as I could before my operation. Gods only knew how long it would take me to get back into the writing mood after that.

"Ready to go?" Six voices chimed in both my ears, and I winced. Stereo inspiration. Just what I didn't need. I made a mental promise to myself.

Windflame was going to regret doing this to me.