Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: Newcastle, UK
Kitty and Franke were not making friendship bracelets. Coach Oleander had commented on this to them, which was received with a scolding look, a series of cynical sighs, and an elaborate show of rolling eyes. When asked about their response, Kitty had said that, 'Friendship bracelets are so last year,' and that had been largely the end of it.
In fact, they were spending almost worrying amounts of time with the “new kid on the psychic block”, Arnold. Franke had taken to carrying his cat around with her, which was met by both appreciation and apprehension by the juvenile evil mastermind; it was nice that he didn't have to use his powers constantly, but Franke was not exactly devious material. She could hardly string a coherent sentences together.
He had been quite sharp with Bobby Zilch this morning, which had made him feel very good about himself. 'You better watch you back,' he said firmly. He had been quite satisfied with this, but less satisfied with the fact that seven seconds later, he was on the ground after Benny Fideleo had rather rudely knocked him down with a savage push. Arnold filed his punishment for later.
Or perhaps the barbarians could come in handy, he pondered, with a slight smile on his face, as Kitty fed him skittles while Franke stroked his cat. Yes, an alliance could be made, between the factions. And then Whispering Rock would truly be theirs for the taking. No one could be able to stop their onslaught. The tuck shop would be theirs!
'Not the yellow one, woman,' he sighed. This Kitty girl was quite a nice, amiable soul, as long as you didn't use big words. She still hadn't figured out that he didn't like the yellow skittles though. They made his tongue all yucky.
Clem, Crystal, Maloof and Mikhail were watching a movie in the lodge on the newly installed DVD player. Long gone were the repetitive cowboy programs of TV, they could now watch proper, feature length movies, such as Shrek, Home Alone, and currently, Enemy at the Gates. Mikhail had explained to the group that it was an excellent movie, about the brilliant Soviet Russia during some war that happened years ago. It was really very good, he had claimed.
Maloof was trying to stay awake.
Clem and Crystal, who had the attention spans of people with very short attention spans, were looking on in confusion. They were normally glued to the screens, but this...this, well, the fighting wasn't even that good. They just shouted a lot and there was a lot of crying.
Mikhail himself was glued to the screen. Not literally, but it probably would have had the same effect. Thoughts zoomed through his mind, along the lines of “FOR THE MOTHERLAND!” and “FORWARD COMRADES!” He had the funny feeling that he ought to be holding a sickle in one hand, and a hammer in the other.
'There's no reason to be in here when it's such a wonderful day ou-.' said Coach Oleander as he marched into the room on his daily prowl. He stopped abruptly as he noticed the television. Eying it with some interest, he opened his mouth a couple of times, in order to say something, but only whimpers came out. The man appeared to put his hand to his chest, and it looked like he was about to say something along the lines of “Cause grievous bodily harm to the Central European people with no fathers!” But the annoying voices of Crystal and Clem wishing him a good morning awoke him to his totally pacifistic senses.
'What?' he barked, 'oh, right. Hello Clem, hello Crystal,' he said, still looking at the TV screen. He breathed outwardly. 'Come on kids, no time to be in here watching movies. You need to be out there! In the fresh air! Playing games!'
'Yay!' Clem and Crystal chorused, before running outside. Maloof followed glumly, while Mikhail stood reluctantly up, and on passing Oleander, muttered 'Fascist dog.'
'Shut up yer damn commie,' said Oleander, and then slapped his hand on his mouth. Those kinds of phrases were for uncivilized, stereotypical people. People who liked to shoot other people. Oleander knew himself he wasn't like that. Yeah.
Boyd was “keeping the premises secure.” This involved walking around the camp-site in a big circle, this hand hands behind his back, whistling uplifting tunes, and grinning amiably to “little scamps.” Two little scamps were currently bothering him.
'Seen any outlaws there, sheriff?' asked one of them. Boyd had the vague idea that he was trying to be helpful. But the way he said that his partner was “riding shotgun” was enough to put anyone of thinking children were timid, nice souls.
'No no,' said Boyd, 'place has been very peaceful recently.'
'Are you sure there's been no bother?' asked Chops, radiating concern.
'Yes, yes, quite sure,' said Boyd, and then he appeared to grin horribly.
'Actually, there were two people I saw. They were causing quite a hassle.'
'It might be an inside job...' commented J.T.
'What?' asked Boyd, momentarily taken off-course.
'Well,' said J.T, taking his hat off. He played with the rim, as if using it to try and think, 'It could be a conspiracy.'
It was a testament to the work done by Razputin in Boyd's mind that the former milkman did not burst into slavering incoherency. He merely said, 'Yes, I think so too.'
'You do?' asked J.T.
'Yes, as a matter of fact I do,' said Boyd, getting back on the straight, 'These two people causing a stir, I think that they belong here.'
'I knew it!' said J.T happily, 'darn tooting, I knew it. I knew it, didn't I Chops?'
'You did, yeah,' said Chops, who was beginning to see the boulder edge towards the end of the tunnel. 'What did these miscreants look like, sheriff?'
Boyd put his head on one side in mock thought. 'One of them had a big afro, massive it was. You could probably hide a clock in it or something. The other wore a cowboy hat all the time. They were both very loud.'
J.T looked up, and down. Then his face burst into realization. He nudged his partner in crime-fighting urgently. 'Chops!' he said, aghast, 'someone's impersonating us!'
Last edited by drunkymonkey; 11-14-2006 at 05:11 PM.