JonesMyOsmosis

Oh my god. There she was. Dia Mora was making her way across the dance floor towards him, and she was beautiful. Her dress was long and red with side-cuts to reveal her toned, tanned legs. The whole thing glittered softly like so many stars immersed in a scarlet sky. Her hair was down and styled past the point of perfection; She looked like a movie star. To Solomon, she was. She smiled, and the world blurred around him, leaving only them. He could feel himself blushing, and cleared his throat, realising he’d been staring. Quickly regaining his composure, Solomon advanced towards her, extending an arm. “May I have this dance?R

Thrax walked past row upon row of dusty boxes, all taped up tightly. He sighed. The long-term memory wasn’t a small place – it could take him a good few hours just to make it back to the front of the brain. He wasn’t even sure if he was going the right way. He didn’t want to risk cutting through the floor to see where he was – he’d done that before in another body as a young virus and ended up falling into the mayor’s office, of all places – he’d barely escaped that brawl with his life. He was stronger now (much stronger), but he still wasn’t willing to take that chance. So he kept w

Three days later, Frank was still in hospital; Feverish, feeling awful, but completely and undoubtedly alive. Shayne, of course, was overjoyed, and hugged her father tightly, weeping and swearing she’d never let him touch another chicken wing again. The doctor said that Frank would be clear to go in a couple of days as he seemed to be recovering remarkably, but to take it easy and to stay off the fatty foods. Frank sighed. “Looks like it’s gonna be carrot sticks for a while, huh Shayne?” Back inside Frank, the whole city was alive with celebration. Ozzie got his job as a cop back much to his delight, although his best

When he saw the false eyelash fall into the beaker of medical-grade alcohol, Osmosis Jones never thought for a second that he’d be even remotely upset about the death of the virus that clung to it. But here he was, at work, unable to concentrate for the wave of strange sadness that had set upon him. What the frank, man? He was a virus. He almost killed the city, for frank’s sake! You got nothin’ to be sorry for. He consoled himself, staring blankly at his computer screen. He was meant to be writing up a report of his latest mission but… the words weren’t coming. He frowned. Why? Why did he feel sad – guilt

Osmosis Jones was trying desperately hard not to get himself killed, although this was a little hard when a certain virus by the name of Thrax had a length of cord wrapped around his neck and was proceeding to choke him with it. “Looks good on you, Jones!” The virus smirked down at him, narrowing those blazing, acid-yellow eyes as he grinned into Ozzie’s face, who was staring straight ahead in a decidedly panicked fashion with both hands at his own throat, trying to loosen the choking hold. Thrax lowered his voice. “You wear it well…” Ozzie (had he not been choking to death) would have shivered a little at