I groan as I look at my monitor. I shake my head in sad disbelief as I try to figure out what on Earth has possessed me to write yet another muse story. But then, as I reread the title, I find myself smiling with a glimmer of hope.

"Shyeah right Toots. In your dreams. Live with her? You *are* kidding, right?"

I glare at my muse as he unceremoniously plops himself down on the stack of CD's in front of my computer. He smiles happily back in an innocent tadpole, Greek letter type of way.

"Why not? Jacqui has a very nice room. She has a nice computer too." I say in my best `temptress' voice. My muse raises an eyebrow, and then promptly falls off the stack of CD's in a fit of hysterical laughter.

"Temptress?" He hoots as I glare at him once again. "Temptress? Please! You couldn't tempt a penguin to live in the north pole." He says as he waddles over to my CPU.

"You're right." I agree calmly. "But you're only right because penguins live in Antarctica ." I say, feeling very intelligent. (Okay, I have to insert here that Squiggle thinks he knows *everything*. He's convinced that between him and his other math symbol buddies, they know everything about the world, universe, and life)

"Ah-ha! I told the guys you were a doubting Thomas!" Squiggle yells triumphantly as he jumps onto my CPU.

"Thomas?" I ask, getting a little worried. "I'm Rachel. R-A-C-H-E-L." I spell out for him as I slowly back away from him. He rolls is eyes in disdain.

"You're trying to change the subject." He says with a reproving look. "You just don't want me to delve into your fantasy world again." He says as I stick my tongue out at him.

"Okay, listen you little messed up turkey."

"Quail."

"Excuse me?"

"I prefer to be called quail, but back to the penguins." He says as he lovingly pats my monitor. "You see folks, Rachel is convinced that her soulmate is a penguin from the north pole." He says, full of his own importance.

"Who *are* you talking to?" I ask in total bewilderment.

"The folks reading this fic, Toots." He replies.

"Listen, you turk. . . quail. I'm not putting this fic anywhere. It is staying on my word processor buried beneath all the stuff you've given me writer's block on. But even if I were going to post this, you could at least do me a favor and quit screwing up my fantasies." I say with a scowl. The Penguin fantasy is my favorite fantasy, and as I glare at Squiggle, I realize that I really don't think the rest of the world would understand.

"What's to understand, Toots? You think that some Penguin from the north pole is going to put his aviator goggles on and fly down to you. Once he arrives, you will give him a big smacker on the beak, and his penguin form will melt away to reveal Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome, the man you are destined to be with for the rest of your life. Oh course, if your friends were to add their two cents worth in, you'd be chasing said penguin around in a medieval castle. Which is just soooooo romantic. " He says with a dramatic sigh as he attempts a mock faint. I laugh vengefully as he manages to fall off my CPU in the process.

"I think you have my fantasies mixed up with `The Frog Prince' fairy tale. And for the last time, I am *not* chasing any poor guy around in a castle! You're getting this fantasy all messed up." I tell him as I look down at his flat little Greek letter form. "Are you sure you don't want to go and live with Jacqui? I'm sure Cornelius could keep you company. I'm sure that between the two of you, you can screw around with Jacqui's fantasy world and do a rather decent job of it." I offer hopefully as I mention my neighbor's Chia Tree. Squiggle just gives me a patronized look.

"Cornelius? That slow poke? He's a tree, I'll be lucky if he even makes it through the next week. You're friend has a tendency to kill off her plant muses, remember Oswald? Besides," He says as he turns to my monitor, and I begin to freak, "Maureen's in here. I could never leave Maureen. She's my soul, my other half, the sun that I orbit around, the bright shining star in my desolate sky. . ." I make gagging noises.

"Would you quit trying to make passionate love to my computer screen, and at least *attempt* to help me write on my latest story?" I say sarcastically. He totally ignores me in favor of giving Maureen his Greek version of puppy dog eyes. "Why couldn't I have gotten a cool muse?" I ask no one in particular.

"I am a cool muse! I won the Karoke bash at the Cartesian Corral the other night. Everyone voted unanimously that I was the coolest dude around." Squiggle says with an affronted look in his eyes.

"A bunch of Math symbols think you're cool? You're kidding, right? Dreamwalker's Rocky is cool. Jeremy Ray's Mason is cool. You, my poor pathetic Greek tadpole, are the nerd among muses. All I can manage to get from you is writer's block. And what's with the dude, anyway? No one says dude, anymore." I mutter as I try and unplaster the small Greek letter from my screen.

"I am unbelievably offended by that." My muse says with a pout. I roll my eyes. At the rate Squiggle is going, I know I'm never going to finish that fic about Cassie and Phantom. Geeky Greek, as I've come to think of him, gets a really wild look in his eyes, and for a moment, I discover what it is like to feel utter and absolute terror. "Cowabunga!" He yells and then leaps off Maureen and onto my shoulder.

"Cowabunga? Didn't that word die out a long time ago along with the dinosaurs?" I ask as I try in vain to brush him off my shoulder. "Just what do you think you're doing, anyway?"

"I'm two timing Maureen. Hello, Toots. I'm you're penguin." He says happily as he rubs his scrawny head affectionately against my neck. "I'll give you a head start in the castle if you wish."

"That's it! I've had it! I'm going to bed. Go woo the paper clips or something, I'm through." I say as I reach over and flip off the computer. Squiggle merely grins.

"I have the *greatest* Rocky dream for you then. You're going to love it Toots. How do you feel about a nice medieval romp through a splendid palace with your favorite ranger?" He returns happily.

"Oh great." I mutter. "There goes the neighborhood."

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