It was a sunny day. A kid was walking along the street, occasionally waving to a few friends. He wore green all over, and was shifting uncomfortably. Meh. It was about 90°F outside.
Oh well. At least it wasn't black. He'd have melted by now.
Septimus turned onto a gravel path. He was a little bored, and so started fiddling in his pockets, but then—lo and behold!—there was a full packet of M&Ms innocently sitting on the ground.
He grinned. "Wow, free candy! Score!"
He ran across the gravel, but unfortunately for him and our poor, sensitive ears, he had to find the biggest stone in the whole path, and trip over it.
Splat!
Ohh, he fell flat on his face. This doesn't look good.
Septimus got up, turned around, and stared straight at the stone, like he was trying to bore holes through it.
Huh. With those eyes, I would believe it if he did.
He sucked in a breath, and then spat out some colorful words.
"You grandchild of a monkey's butt!! You %^&#! You $#* of a hippopotamus and fried eggs!"
As he was swearing at the stone, he stubbed his toe on a plank of wood that I "accidentally" put there this morning. Wolf (me) started whistling. "Gee, I wonder how that got there?
Septimus turned and started to swear at poor Wolf. "GET OUT OF THE SCRIPT!"
Hmph.
Anyway, Septimus screamed curse words at the plank of wood, too.
"Your mother is a %$$# #* &^%$# %& of a quiche and a ^%$& #$ ^%& (%# )^%$ and a bucket of &^%$ $#%& (*^%--"
His rant was cut off when he slammed his fist into the wall of a house. So he screamed at that too.
"For your information, I hate your &^%$ *)*(^ %$3 #%! ^^$!*) &**&%$ )*$# rabid sheep *&^$ $$%^ (&&* hair better then your *%$#*)!!!!"
A little kid, about the age of three, stuck his head out of the window of the house. Hearing Septimus' curses, he turns his head and asks his older brother, "What does *%$#* mean?"
Hee hee. Sep's gonna get in troooouble…..
"And your father ate pastrami for dessert!" Septimus spat at the wall before whirling and striding confidently away from the house. But what do ya know: he tripped over the stone again.
And fell flat on his face again.
And swore at it. Again.
Therefore, stubbing his toe into the wood, again.
And punching the wall, again.
Three hours later….
Wolf stood by the window, slurping a Coke. "Sounds like somebody needs a throat lozenge" she commented as he wheezed out his last few insults to the stone, and then falling on his back.
Septimus raised an accusing finger. "I thought *gasp* that I *gasp* told you to *gasp* get out of *gasp* the script." "You never said how long."
He groaned and held his head in his hands. "You are, without a doubt, the most exasperating person I've ever known." "I know you are, but what am I?" said Wolf with a sneaky grin.
Septimus jumped to his feet and snarled at poor Wolf "WILL YOU^$#%ING GET OUT OF THE SCRIPT!!!!"
"I don't know, will I?" asked Wolf sarcastically.
"RRRRRGHL &^%$% ((&^% ^$%% &^%^!!!!"
"Up yours."
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!"
Septimus turned away from Wolf. "I'm getting out of here" he growled, "before someone gets hurt."
Wolf smiled again. Three…two…one…
Septimus stubbed his toe on the plank of wood. He almost fell, but he picked himself up, pointed at the wood, and screamed, "AND I'VE HAD IT WITH YOU, TOO!!!"
Wolf turned to Marcia, who just happened to be walking along that street, her eyebrows raised at her psycho apprentice.
"Can I have his stuff after they've taken him away?"
"It depends. Remind me to tell Silas to ground Nicko before he tells his brother any new swear words."
"Righto."