live it the way you want to
It was her day off from work, and she didn't particularly feel like going out. No aching feet for her today, no humpty-dumpty drunks sweet talking her to get a drink on the house or wanting to take her out, and best of all, no Michael Corner present to bug her about when she'll be moving out. Her personality calls out to her to order a large pizza and watch one of those muggle television shows she's grown to love so much. Those silly muggles, how do they come up with the things they do?
Lisa brings out the PlayStation 2 game console and a soft-pad, and a stack of video games instead. She will master "Paranoia" at the expert level on Dance Dance Revolution today, even if it's the last thing she'll ever do. For the longest time she thought of sending a harsh howler to the company who made these games for having failed the song so many times, but then she'd have to worry about exposure of the Wizarding World and all the hassle that comes with it. No, Lisa wasn't the type of person who liked dealing with unnecessary things.
She's a lover, not a fighter.
Three rounds past, beads of sweat rolls down her temple as she collapses down to the floor, slumping. Ladies and Gentlement of the Muggle and Wizarding World, she's done it. Leaning back on her elbows, she tiredly picks up one foot to press down on the arrows to scroll through the alphabet. She enters her name, grinning proudly as it blinks at the number one slot.
That eighteen year old boy at the arcade's got nothing on her.
Lisa brings out the PlayStation 2 game console and a soft-pad, and a stack of video games instead. She will master "Paranoia" at the expert level on Dance Dance Revolution today, even if it's the last thing she'll ever do. For the longest time she thought of sending a harsh howler to the company who made these games for having failed the song so many times, but then she'd have to worry about exposure of the Wizarding World and all the hassle that comes with it. No, Lisa wasn't the type of person who liked dealing with unnecessary things.
She's a lover, not a fighter.
Three rounds past, beads of sweat rolls down her temple as she collapses down to the floor, slumping. Ladies and Gentlement of the Muggle and Wizarding World, she's done it. Leaning back on her elbows, she tiredly picks up one foot to press down on the arrows to scroll through the alphabet. She enters her name, grinning proudly as it blinks at the number one slot.
That eighteen year old boy at the arcade's got nothing on her.