Alfred F. Jones is a menace. To put it frankly, Arthur dubbed him the nickname last summer and because so many people agreed it stuck. Now Alfred was one year older, only about eight, when his genius plan went into work. With the help of his seven year old brother, Matthew Williams, who wasn't as troublesome as Alfred, he put the last piece into place.
"Aah!" Alfred sighed with content as he looked back at his handy work. The rock he placed in the door was tied by a long, white string to a large flowerpot, which was being balanced on a slightly deflated ball leaning against the big oak tree. The pot was positioned so it would fall forward and onto the plastic orange and red seesaw he received from Finland on Christmas, making a few more stones appear and fall harshly onto the head of the person opening the door. There were more traps in the house but the sheer excitement of being able to pull it off this time made Alfred feel giddy inside.
"W-we shouldn't do this to Arthur, Alfred," Matthew reasoned. "He might get mad."
"And do what? I do this all the time! I've only been sent to my room and feed cheese and bread for two days! That's not so bad," Alfred assured.
"Alfred!" Arthur yelled somewhere in the house. He drawled out the 'fred' as he yelled, the voice rising in volume as it approached the back door. Stomping could be heard.
"Quick!" Alfred pushed Matthew behind the slide and got beside him. They both peeked around the edge as they saw Arthur's face approached the slide door.
"A rock in the door! What have I told you about—"Arthur began as he slide the door open further but stopped as he watched the rock quickly shoot away and across the grass. The rock hit the flower pot; hard. It tipped forward and fell onto the seesaw, breaking into pieces in process, the ball rolling a few inches away. The seesaw went up quickly and, much to Alfred's amusement, showered Arthur with rocks.
"Bloody hell!" he screamed as he backup. Alfred leaped up from beside the slide. One more step. One more. Yes.
Arthur yelled even louder as he fell and tripped over a skateboard. He landed hard on his butt as the skateboard rolled away and hit the wall, also triggering a series of unfortunate events. Alfred looked on as the sound of glass shattering and wood being splintered sounded. His eyes glimmered with amusement at his masterpiece as it all went according to plan. Except for the football, which missed its target, but it wasn't anything important. Matthew looked on too, but in a less amusing way. He clutched the white, stuffed polar bear in his arms closer to his chest as he watched Arthur fall and flail about. Oh great, now he was in trouble with Alfred.
In the end, Arthur was knocked out by a vase that fell on his head. The neighbor, and also Matthew caretaker, came over to see what the ruckus was and upon finding Arthur out cold, snorted.
"Tout comme lui. Come on boys," he briefly paused to pick up the unconscious man, moving him to the sofa and placing him in a comfortable position. "We have to clean this mess up. Aussi, enfants chéris, whose magnificent idea was it?"
*Tout comme lui- Just like him
* Aussi, enfants chéris- Also, Darling children
I took French I and II in high school and came out with A's, however I had to use Google Translate on this one. Please, don't butcher me for incorrect usage. I've had enough of being told off because something wasn't right with my French. THE HIGH SCHOOL BOOKS LIES.
I shouldn't be making a new a fic, especially when I have hopes of adding more chapters. Oh, but what the heck. It's 2:40am and I did this is 55 minutes, this is being published. I proofread it once, however I wouldn't be surprised if mistakes were saw.