Although Ed really regretted the misuse of books (he would never, for example WRITE in one, that was what having a notebook was for) he still couldn't stop his lingering addiction. It was Alphons who had started him on this road, and it was Alphons who he blamed for it.
He ripped three pages this time, because he felt angry. Usually one was enough. Hell, NONE should be enough. Three pages. He didn't even bother to look at the words and wonder which part of the novel he'd ripped them from, he simply hurried to the next part of the process—making the page unrecognisable so he wouldn't feel so damn guilty about the whole thing.
For that he used a papercutter. When he first started he shredded the pages by hand, but a paper cutter did the job quicker and more efficiantly, rendering the little peices into even small fragments, that tickled his nose less when the went up. Ed's heart began pounding in anticipation of the rush he'd feel when the process was over.
At last, the papers rendered not just to shreds but to an ashlike consistancy, Ed swept the fragments into a neat pile. He took a page from his own notebook (nothing important, a mistake he'd rather forget) and curled it into a straw. He then placed the scratchy end of it into his left nostril, and breathed in hard.
The rush was immediate. He felt a sense of propriety and morals take hold of his soul, underwhich was the deliciously naughty feeling of being terribly terribly bad. The next snort brought him a flood of romantic feelings, so much so that he couldn't stop himself from grabbing the picture of Alphons from the phone nook and kissing it. Finally he was left with a sense of femininity. He felt pretty. And respectable. And just a bit ready for an adventure that involved letting a suitor in a window.
Alphons returned from the store not much later, to see his roommate dusting the furnature. "You are ever so late," Ed cried, fluttering just a bit. "I've positively pined for you!"
"You've been snorting again, haven't you," Alphons accused. But then he quickly shed his clothes. It was a rotton trick getting his roommate hopped up on Jane Austin, but it did make him a rather biddable thing between the sheets... and really, was that so wrong?