Okay, "Hooked on You" is back, I had some problems because of "No Chatscript" rule. So, This is now chapter one, and this story now has two chapters only. Sorry, administrator. Is it better now? Reviewers will have to start all over. I'm sorry.

Disclaimer: I totally DON'T own ASOUE, Fernald, The Veritable French Diner, Lemony Snicket, the song "Brick House" or Halloween Town (oh, sorry, different fanbase. )

Claimer: I own Marylin, Ok? So don't even THINK about trying to use her for your own sick, twisted purposes.

This is the story of a guy, a girl, and... something else I forgot.

But let's cut to the chase, shall we?

So, here I am, standing just outside of the resteraunt in the snow, looking for this 'chikyhooks' girl. She had told me to meet her in front of the Veritable French Diner at 8:00, and it was 8:30 now. I had figured that she was running late, but I still wondered if she had even remembered. What if she lives in another city? I thought. Or country? Or universe? Okay, Fernald, that last thought was just plain rediculous. I mentally smacked my head for even thinking that.

I felt rather silly standing there in my tuxedo. I had never liked it much; I always felt like a penguin in it. But, then again, I was trying to impress someone, so... Besides, Esme wouldn't let me leave the house without it on, because she said it was 'in', and because they probably wouldn't have let me in if I didn't have it on.

It was now 8:31, and there was still no sign of anyone besides myself with hooks for appendages. Disappointed, I started back towards my car.

"Hey!"

Hearing this, I spun around to see where it had come from... and found myself looking at one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. No, seriously. I'm not even joking around. You've heard the song "Brick House", right? That song discribes her pretty darn well. She had raven black hair, hypnotic brown eyes, pale skin, and she wore all black. I'm telling you, she was a serious goth gal: Heavy metal chains and crosses, heavy black make-up, a black widow slave bracelet on one hand, and an elaboarately decorated silver hook for the other.

"Hey," she said again, eyeing me up and down. She smiled (if you can imagine a goth chick smiling) at me and asked, "Are you 'captainhooks'?"

"Yeah," I said, snapping out of dream world and back into realtity land. "Yeah. Are you 'chikyhooks'?"

"None other," she replied. "I'm Marylin. With a 'y', not an 'i'. Nice to meet you. What's your name?"

"Uh... Fernald?"

She giggled. (again, if you can imagine a goth girl giggling.)

"Again, nice to meet you, Uh-Fernald."

"Could you drop the 'uh', please?"

"Of course."

She held out her hand (Yes, her HAND, not her HOOK) for me to take, which I gladly did, and in that way, we entered the resteraunt and into one of the best - and worst - nights of my life.

Hooky's night seems to be going well so far. How could it possibly get worse? Hey, this is ASOUE, ANYTHING can happen! Please review, and I might write more.