Hello. I can not think of a more inspired opening line, I am near hyperventilating from the excitement/mortification of publishing my first fanfiction that has nothing to do with English homework.

Here we go then. With a series of events that bear a striking resemblance to the work of Frank Baum, author of 'The Wonderful Wizard of Oz' and the movie based on this, Kitty is taken to a far off land of bright colours and weird natives. At least, I think they're native.

So I hereby disclaim that I own the Bartimaeus Trilogy, by Jonathon Stroud, 'The Wonderful Wizard of Oz' by Frank Baum, the movie done by someone else, but I own the concept of the lost cow and the sock puppets. Not actual sock puppets. Just the idea --Shifty eyes--

--The Unseasonable, Unreasonably and Unlikely Tornado--

Minding Mr Pennyfeather's shop was not all that bad. Sure, the hours were tedious, since no-one ever came except for their regular customers or the occasional rats, but it gave Kitty some time to be by herself. Alone. For a very long time.

"Very quiet today, isn't it, Mr Buttons?" one purple sock with an orange button and blue button for eyes asked another sock puppet.

"Shut up and go to hell, Mr Tipples," replied a foul green sock with patches of fluff for eyes.

Yes, Kitty was bored. But rather than just sit back and let the madness sink in, she entertained herself with neurotic imaginary people and silly voices. It stunted the process. Well, it kept her occupied. OK, at the very least, it used a pair of socks.

Mr Tipples was made from one of her mother's that had somehow ended up in her luggage before moving here. Mr Buttons she wasn't so sure about. It was actually one of Nick's oldest and most disgusting socks, but luckily she didn't know about it. It would explain its temperament though . . .

"You're stupid and you smell," he said, to fill up space.

Most of the team was out attending to their ever so small lives outside of the Resistance. Stanley was working a shift delivering newspapers. Fred was doing a part-time job several suburbs from there. Nick was avoiding doing anything that could be interpreted as work. And Mr Pennyfeather was sorting out loans at the bank. Which left Kitty all alone, as was mentioned beforehand.

"Kind of dull, this job," Mr Tipples voiced Kitty's thoughts.

"Suck it up and choke," Mr Buttons said for no good-mental health reason.

While it was not exactly cheap, the store was not really all that sturdy. The flat above had a leak along one wall, and in here there was a hole that let in every chill breeze to bite at any exposed flesh. Sometimes in very inventive ways.

"Gee, it's suddenly become very windy," Mr Tipples commented.

"You're windy," Mr Buttons shot back.

Kitty put down the puppets for a moment, and looked out the window just above the hole in the wall not planned in design. Indeed. It did seem very windy. She noted this by the waving trees, and shaking houses.

"It's not supposed to storm this time of year," mused Mr Tipple.

"I hate you and your storms," snapped Mr Buttons.

With a ripping sound, the canvas from the next-door store became loose, and blew onto the front of the store. It blocked Kitty's view, so she walked around the counter, still with the sock puppets.

"Hey, is that a tornado?" Mr Tipples asked.

"You're a tornado," replied Mr Buttons, as the canvas flipped and blew further around the street.

Kitty gasped. The streets of London were now abandoned of any human and rodent life. Cars were flipped on their sides, streetlamps groaned from being shoved this way and that, and a cow that had become lost mooed in pitiful confusion.

"Oh. So it is a tornado," Mr Tipples noted.

"You're a— I mean, OH MY FREAKING GOD!" Mr Buttons screamed. "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"

A whirling funnel of doom whirled its, er, funnel self through the street, picking up cars, streetlamps, and the poor misplaced cow. Kitty had to note, London was not the place for tornadoes.

"Yeah. They're usually formed by low pressure systems with high winds," said Mr Tipples knowledgably.

"No, you're usually formed by low pressure systems with high winds!" Mr Buttons shot back.

"Will you shut up!" Kitty snapped, peeking out the door for a moment. She said a bad word, because it appeared that the tornado was coming this way.

"Gee, it looks like that tornado is coming this way," Mr Tipples commented.

"Shut up!" Kitty cried, shut the door, and leapt behind the counter. She didn't have much knowledge about how to deal with tornadoes, because as far as she knew, one never happened England.

So she wasn't entirely surprised when it seemed the tornado had taken a liking to the art supplies store, and lifted it from its supports (leaving the basement behind), and carried far, far away from the little shop in Southwark.

There you have it. Sorry about the lack of length, but it is hard to draw comparisons in the first chapter.

Now, due to me having to go to my grandparents tomorrow morning, whose computer is currently being taken care of by my dad due to ingesting too many viruses, I will have to submit the next chapter, which is longer, soon. Depending if I can master the submitting system and avoid having it as another story.

Please read and review, and do so with kindness or at the very least bemusement. I am young and breakable.