So, the poem is the one that's in bold. A/N in italics! This won't be a one shot, it's going to be a series of random poems all Amy/Ian, with commentary by the lovely couple themselves!
Oh, and you might not want to read the last poem in this chapter if you haven't read book 8!
Disclaimer: I do not own the 39 Clues.
Once upon a time
There was a girl and a boy
And with the girl's feelings
The boy did toy.
Ian: Toyed? Ahahaha.
Amy: You're such an idiot.
Ian: For what? Toying with you?
Amy: Oh, just shut up.
Ian: Really? That's the best come back you've got?
Amy: Yup.
Ian: You know, you're not so shy online. And you don't stutter, either.
Amy: Wha- how do you even stutter online anyway?
Ian: You tell me.
Amy: I- I-just you-
Ian: HA! I WIN!
Amy: Just keep reading, Cobra.
Ian: Your wish is my command, love.
The girl fell for him
But the guy left her to rot
In a cave in Korea
…Or so he thought.
Amy: May I just say- WHAT NOW, KABRA?
Ian: We knew you survived. We let you. It was all part of the plan!!
Amy: Right, the same way going out for Cherry Garcia ice cream at 1 am in Jamaica was all part of the plan.
Ian: Exactly!
Amy: Seriously? Am I really having this conversation with you?
Ian: Well, technically, no. You see, we're online, so we're not having a conversation, we're…we're…we're just not having a conversation!
Amy: Then what might you call this?
Ian: A light, friendly talk between two old friends.
Amy: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Ian: It is! And don't even tell me I sound like a whining, spoiled brat, because I'm not!
Amy: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA
Ian: AUGHHHH
Amy: I'm laughing so hard there are tears running down my face…
Ian: On with the poem.
For it turned out
That the girl survived
And went to Egypt
And then to Russia she arrived.
Ian: Blah.
Amy: Uhh…?
Ian: I hate Egypt. It's so hot and dry there, and filled with nothing but cheap, worthless tourist trinkets. Nothing of value.
Amy: So, the fourth clue didn't really have any value to you?
Ian: I…no, no, that's not it…
Amy: You're really making a mess of everything you say. You're not so poised and calm and sophisticated online, huh?
Ian: I am not ma- you think I'm poised and calm and sophisticated?
Amy: I…no, no, that's not what I meant…
Ian: You're really making a mess of everything you say.
Amy: Stop mimicking me!
Ian: Stop mimicking me!
Amy: I'm done here.
Ian: I'm done here.
Amy: Aarrgh…
Ian: Aarrgh…
Amy: Ian Kabra is the snobbiest jerk I have ever met.
Ian: Ian Kabra is the handsomest man I have ever met.
Amy: HA! You didn't repeat after me!
Ian: HA! You didn't repeat after me!
She saw the boy
In the airport
And so she went up to him
And told him he was a jerk.
Ian: You didn't tell me anything!
Amy: So?
Ian: "Airport" doesn't even rhyme with "jerk"!
Amy: So?
Ian: And you didn't come up to me! I captured you!
Amy: So?
Ian: Is all you're going to say so?
Amy: So?
Ian: Wha- that doesn't even make sense!
Amy: So? Ah, the taste of revenge is sweeter than victory…
Ian: Is that Shakespeare?
Amy: So? No, it's not.
She kicked him in the leg
And ran away
Leaving the boy standing there
Who was unable to sashay.
Amy: That's not true.
Ian: I know!
Amy: You don't sashay.
Ian: Exactly!
Amy: It's more of a sashay with a twirl. Or sashaying with swagger. Or…galloping.
Ian: That's right!
Ian: Wait, no, it's not!
Amy: Hahahahaha…I win this one.
Later she got a phone call
Guess who called?
She didn't listen to his "advice"
And hung up, appalled.
Ian: I warned you.
Amy: About what?
Ian: Your demise.
Amy: I'm not dead, you witless knave!
Ian: Whatever helps you sleep at night, love. Now, is that Shakespeare?
Amy: Witless knave? Why yes. And I'm pretty sure I'm not dead…
Ian: That's what she kept telling herself…then, when she realized that no one could see her…or hear her…she knew the truth…
Amy: Who's this "she"?
Ian: Jealous, are we?
Amy: I'm not jealous! Why would I ever be jealous?!?!?
Ian: Keep telling yourself that and you'll believe it's not true as well. Oh, the lies we live…
Amy: You're such an infectious maggot! You spleeny hugger-mugger! You dizzy-eyed bladder!
Ian: Ah…ahahaha…ahaha…*gasps for air*…..did you just call me a bladder?
Amy: Let's move on to the next poem, shall we?
Later they went to Australia
And the girl was lured into a trap
Where they boy and his mother where waiting
The girl thought, Oh crap.
Amy: You're mother is a total…total…
Ian: Bladder.
Amy: Git.
Ian: Oh, so we're going English, eh?
Amy: Prat.
Ian: I'm assuming you got that from Harry Potter.
Amy: Why, you bloody-
Ian: And of course, I'm correct. That language- so Ron Weasley.
The girl almost got eaten by sharks
But was thankfully saved
It was one of the hardest things
She'd ever had to brave.
Ian: Oh, you poor, poor dear! One of the hardest things you'd had to brave!
Amy: Shut it, or I'll get Frankfort to come beat you up.
Ian: What're you going to do, eat- Frankfort? Who's Frankfort?
Amy: Jealous, are we?
Ian: No, no, no! Who's Frankfort?
Amy: *smiles evilly*
Soon they all went to different places
Till Mount Everest they ended up
The girl saved the boy from falling off
And now I must go to drink some 7up.
Amy: 7up? Really? What was she thinking?
Ian: It rhymed, and she was thirsty. Who's Frankfort?
iciclegirl235: That's very true. But I don't really like 7up.
Amy: Yeah, Coke's way better…
Ian: No, Pepsi! And who's Frankfort?
Amy: Coke!
Ian: Pepsi! And who's Frankfort?
iciclegirl235: Honestly, what's the difference? They're like the same!
Amy and Ian: Is liquid cardboard the same?
iciclegirl235: Okay, okay, sorry…don't be such bladders…
Amy: Just drop it.
Ian: Who's Frankfort?
So, who do you guys think Frankfort is? Why is everyone being such a bladder? What's going on? All will sort of be revealed next time on the Poetry Channel! Thanks for reading!
And, now the most important question. Coke or Pepsi? You tell me. All ideas for this story are welcome! Review, please! :D
