Boys Will Be Boys
Chapter 2
Vector did his best to pass the two hours without getting too depressed, but channel hopping was out of the question. At this time of morning all the TV channels had their early morning chat shows, and each show was a similar story of mocking the man who stole the moon and praising the man who put it back.
"May I advise a walk sir? Your vital signs are showing signs of stress." Lina cut in from his dismal slump on his office chair.
"Lina…" he growled, yanking at his face with his hands in annoyance. "I am leaving the house at eleven thirty. That is my walk. Register walk."
"Walk registered Vector. Anger levels noted. Your next cup of coffee will contain extra sugar to compensate." She cheerfully said.
Vector couldn't resist a snigger, she reminded him of the highly annoying call centre workers who would call every now and again to badger him with special offers of low cost long distance calling, or to let him know he had won a competition he had never entered. Regardless of how uptight he got, they would always remain courteous and bubbly. His robot assistant was no different, so he reminded himself he would try and write some programming that could enhance her personality a bit.
Vector trudged to the living room again, trying to find something to do. Phish swam idly in his tank, and the shark would occasionally stare at him deeply as he walked up the stairs.
"Hungry boy?" he said, tapping the glass. The shark acknowledged him by turning itself upside down, Vector had spent a good year or two training the shark as a baby to be able to understand him and respond. When the shark swam upside down, that meant yes.
"Alright my itty bitty man mauler. Daddy will go get you some food." Vector affectionately cooed to his shark. It responded playfully and Vector tapped the glass which made the shark swim around rapidly, almost like it was a dog.
"Lina." Vector shouted authoritatively.
"Yes Vector?"
"Dispense some dolphin meat into the tank, Phish has been a good boy today."
"Yes Vector."
A distant sucking noise arose from a part of the house Vector rarely visited, since that part was fully automated. Suddenly in the tank a hole opened up in the gravel and some shredded meat floated into the tank, and Vector watched as his shark pet ravenously gnawed at it. When it had finished, Vector heard his watch beeping and his fascination with the shark rudely came to an end. It was time to visit is Aunt.
xxxxx
Mr Perkins walked into the Bank of Evil with his usual unstoppable stride. He felt awful about having to cut his son off, but it was necessary. His father always taught his failure was unacceptable and must be stamped out or simply abandoned.
There were a couple of people he didn't recognise sat in the waiting area, and he approached the reception desk, which towered over even him. Moira, the receptionist, regarded him respectfully.
"Good morning Sir." She nodded. Her voice was courteous and very well spoken, and her eyes flicked from behind her oddly shaped red glasses to the seated individuals.
Mr Perkins contemptuously followed her gaze and he turned back to her. "Send in the first." He said with a straight face, though his voice practically oozed malice. She smiled and nodded, and watched as Mr Perkins waddled towards his office which sat at the top of the ornate stairway.
"Mr Laithwaite?" she said suddenly. A small frail looking young man nervously gasped, and he carefully drew his head up to look at her. He looked terrified and he could barely hold the rolls of posters he had brought with him. His overall appearance was comical to say the least. "Mr Perkins will see you now." Moira finished ominously.
The little man nodded, and made his way up the staircase.
A young woman who had sat opposite him watched him leave, and she thought about what gruelling questions and mockery he would face. She gave him 5 minutes, tops, before he came out a dithering mess making a hasty beeline for the exit.
The woman swept the blonde hair out of her face as she held a piece of paper in her hands, and she heard a womanly small scream from upstairs. "Quicker than I thought." The woman muttered to herself in amusement.
She heard the little man's footsteps turn into a tumble down the stairs, and he landed on the floor with a splat. He whimpered and yanked himself off the red marble floor and sprinted out of the office screaming like a banshee. The overall mood in the waiting had darkened, and the two other people who sat with her waiting for their turn to impress Mr Perkins became sullen and nervous themselves. She saw them exchange worried looks and the woman smiled to herself.
"Send in the girl." She heard Mr Perkins crackly voice utter over a speaker. Her smile widened.
"Anita Princely?" Moira asked indifferently. "Mr Perkins will see you now."
Anita lifted herself up from the seat confidently and she made her way to Mr Perkins office, smiling casually as she went.
She opened the door to Mr Perkins office, trying not to strain herself under its immense weight, and she saw him, sitting at his table idly. His fingers were pressed together in an arch; the shape was akin to a church steeple. Anita noted the irony of the shape since his broad shoulders, tailored suit and haircut made him look practically satanic.
"Sit down." Mr Perkins gestured to the tiny stool in front of his gargantuan mahogany desk. She had only been in this room once before, and her senses were assaulted by the smell of expensive leather and rich wood polish.
"Thank you." She said with an airy voice as she lowered herself gently on to the stool. Mr Perkins eyed her up and down, and he drank in her scent.
Some of her friends would say she sounded a little ditsy. It was a façade, behind her cutesy manner and dress sense, was a calculating and intelligent woman. Her blouse was a pretty purple blouse with a bow at the neck for a tie, her skirt was airy and flowery, and her hair was long and free flowing. It trailed just down her shoulders and curled lightly, and a flower hairpiece held a side piny tail. Her shoes were similarly adorable white pumps with pink flower adornments just beside her ankles.
"Welcome back, Anita." Mr Perkins smiled. His fat cheeks almost obscured it, but she could not mistake the warmness of it.
"Thank you very much, Mr Perkins." She replied warmly.
"I wanted to congratulate you on the success of your first mission. Raiding The Louvre without detection and escaping with 90% of its most valuable paintings in one night is a feat worthy of my best and brightest." He said. He did not get up, which annoyed Anita a little. The magnitude of her success deserved some more respectful recognition, and the fact he was still seated showed his lack of respect.
"Thank you very much, sir." She smiled falsely. He closed his large solid gold laptop and turned his face back to her.
"I trust your next endeavour will be much more spectacular." Mr Perkins said with a hopeful and fatherly tone.
"Yes. It will be." She answered coolly. He eyed her deeply for a second more, and stood up. The floor seemed to move under his weight, which was amazing since it was pure solid marble, about 2 metres thick, and there were no rooms underneath them.
"We are watching you closely. You are expected to make a 30 percent rise in profit on your next mission." Mr Perkins said as he walked to the bust of himself. He smiled at it, which made Anita chuckle inside, his vanity was so obvious he may as well as held up a giant "I love myself" sign with flashing lights.
"30%?" Anita asked thoughtfully and she cutely put her index finger on her lip. Her attempt at enchanting him seemed to be working, as Mr Perkins's usually stiff posture seemed to slacken.
"Yes, the board wishes for you to become our most profitable investment." He answered smoothly. He lowered himself heavily back onto his huge throne-like chair, and clasped his hands together. His face stiffened and he looked serious. Anita mimicked him. "Now… what is your plan?"
He leant in close and stared into her eyes expectantly and wistfully. Anita wondered what kind of lustful thoughts were swimming around in Mr Perkins head, and the thought disgusted her. But she knew putting herself through this was only temporary until she was one of the greatest villains alive. "Patience, girl" she promised herself.
She leant in and gave a deep breath and a smirk to Mr Perkins who seemed to respond by shuddering.
Anita leant back smiling sweetly, and she pulled out a piece of paper. Mr Perkins looked at it, and then back to her. "Is this some kind of joke?" he said, raising his eyebrow and looking at her dumbfounded.
xxxxx
Vector stepped out of his half blown up garden and onto the street. His primary mode of transport was gone, destroyed beyond salvation when the moon expanded inside it, so he had to walk.
He looked somewhat lost standing idly in the street. He had automated pilots taking his to any destination he chose, but now he had to rely on his own sense of direction to take him to his aunt's. He glanced around the cul-de-sac he lived in and tried to get his bearing.
"I guess I gotta go… left?" he said nasally, sniffing deeply as his hay fever began to kick in. He made his way in that direction and turned a corner after a few minutes of walking. He stopped in his tracks when a small boy bumped into him.
Vector gasped in sudden fright as the boy steadied himself. He looked at the boy for a second, and huge green eyes stared into his stoically. The blonde hair of the young boy was wild and unkempt, and Vector began to feel a little uncomfortable. He noticed another two boys just behind him, one younger and about half the middle boys size who had short brown hair, and one older one with longer black hair. The eldest held a clipboard in his hands, and upon seeing this Vector's memories flashed towards Margo, Edith and Agnes. The horrible Gru daughters who had near ruined his life.
"Watch where you are going kid." Vector snapped, trying to take control of himself and assert his dominance over the three of them.
"You bumped into us, you big nerd." The blonde boy replied harshly to a taken aback Vector. He began to shrink back as the boy squared up to him.
"Yeah, you watch where you're going you big silly man!" The youngest said with a mock wag of the finger. He struggled to string those words together, and Vector assumed he was very young. The eldest simply observed the other boys and Vector, and didn't say anything. His black hair was styled a little, and Vector avoided his gaze which seemed fierce and intelligent.
"Uh…" Vector said, starting to lose his cool. The blonde boy's dark and deepening smile seemed to imply he sensed Vectors rising fearfulness and he wished to take advantage of it. So much like the blonde girl, Vector thought, and he gulped hard.
"Why are you wearing lots of orange, mister?" the youngest asked while tugging at the clothing on his legs.
"Umm…" Vector hesitated, and he attempted to back away from the youngest.
"I bet his mom makes him wear it. Like a costume." The middle one laughed.
"Sorry about my brothers." The eldest said finally taking control as Vector was backed up against a wall. He yanked the two other boys out of Vectors way so he could get past. Vector scoffed and shook his head trying to collect his nerves, and carried on his way to his aunt's house by pushing past the blonde kid who tried to trip him over. As he rounded another corner just ahead of him, he broke out into a light run as he heard the middle child laugh hysterically, no doubt at his expense.
"Darn kids…" Vector mumbled to himself as he slowed himself down to a brisk walk. It was about five minutes later that he realised he was supposed to go right out of his house, not left. Vector stomped his foot in anger and he cursed unintelligibly, which prompted some piercing stares from two elderly ladies who were on the other side of the road. Vector became very aware of himself and he looked away awkwardly.
"Damn kids." he heard one of the old ladies say to her friend, who nodded in agreement. He turned and made his way back, hoping he could avoid any more children and elderly people on the way to his aunt's. Thankfully he didn't come across those three young rug rats again.
Vector carried on for what seemed like forever, and he began to recognise his surroundings. His hay fever had kicked into overdrive now, and his nose was a sickly shade of red and his eyes were puffier than those strange golf fish he sometimes fed to Phish. He sneezed incessantly, and held a light coloured handkerchief to his nose and blew out. He noticed after removing the cloth from his face, he was right outside his aunts.
The house loomed over him, and he gulped. The building was an old white wooden house from Colonial era America, and it had been in dire need of repainting ever since he could remember. The windows looked thin and shabby, and the curtains were a nicotine-stained shade of brown.
Vector made his way up to the front door and straightened himself up to knock on the door.
xxxxx
"No, why ever do you ask?" Anita pondered with mild amusement.
"The paper has a circle on it, and nothing else." Mr Perkins pointed out.
"Yes, it is. There is a good reason for that." Anita had switched from her dappy self into her cool collected version, and the change seemed to go unnoticed. Her small enchantment had paid off.
"I… hope there is." He swooned.
"I do not wish to reveal too much, but the circle is a symbol."
"Of?" Mr Perkins breathed deeply.
"I found it on one of the Louvre paintings. It's the symbol of a secret society I thought long extinct." Anita had stood up, and she postured herself for maximum sex appeal. It was astounding how easy men could be manipulated, and even more so that a man such as Perkins could be puppeteer simply from her mannerisms. "The symbol was on a modernist piece I found, and that confirms it may still be around."
"I see." Mr Perkins thought deeply. His eyes followed her rear, and she felt sickened inside, but knew it was necessary to get him to invest. "And where does my considerable monetary power come into this?"
"I wish to follow this society. I believe they have a considerable amount of wealth, perhaps more than anyone has ever known." She said proudly. Mr Perkins followed her every move hypnotically. "I will steal it all."
xxxxx
"Victor my dear sweet angel!" he heard. The voice was muffled because the arms of the person who spoke to him were clasped tightly around his head in a vice like grip and covered his ears. His face was stuffed up against someone's chest, and he struggled to breathe.
"Hello Aunt Clarice." He said through her jumper. He felt his warm breath soak into the fabric, and the woman's two gigantic breasts smothered him.
"My my, you look worse for the wear." She laughed, and she removed a handkerchief from her pocket to rub his face. Vector tried to defend himself from her evil clutches, but it was no use. She was vastly strong and much bigger than he was.
"Come on stop it." He struggled out of her grasp.
"Sorry," she chuckled "I forget you ain't a little young pup any more." She released him from her arms and stepped aside to let Vector into her house. The inside was no better than the outside, it was a mass of old junk that needed desperate need of dusting. The stench of stale cigarette smoke filled his lungs, which didn't help his hay fever at all.
The door slammed shut behind him, and his huge framed aunt bounded past him towards the kitchen, he remembered. Vector followed after her and she fixed him a glass of water.
"Moira told me what happened to you." His aunt said, her tone of voice sombre and pitying.
"Yeah…" Vector sulked.
"Your dad is a hard man Victor, you know that." She pointed out. "He's doing it so you learn some harshness of the world."
"What, by cutting me off from my money?" Vector snapped.
"No, you buffoon. He's teaching you independence." She leant against an old larder, and it creaked under her weight. It was a wonder it didn't topple over.
"Independence… right." Vector laughed sarcastically. His Aunt Clarice shoved the glass of cloudy water into his hands.
"When your mother passed, god rest her soul," his aunt respectfully placed a hand on her chest in memory of his mother, "your father took it upon himself to look after you as best he could."
"I know, but I don't know what to do." Vector muttered, more to himself than to her.
"Well... now's your chance to be your own man. Your father ain't gon' carry you anymore, so now you can earn your own living."
"But Aunt H-" Vector began but she cut him off.
"Listen. Whatever you do is your business. You could stay doing what you do, if you want. I don't have any say in that." she talked with stoicism, and Vector pursed his lips as he knew he wouldn't be able to talk over her. "But, you just do it well, and you'll feel the best you ever did."
"I can't do it without money." Vector tried desperately to convince her.
"Your dad built that bank out of nothing but a dream. You do the same. You don' need money."
Vector sighed and nodded glumly.
His aunt raised her eyebrow, and her little green eyes. flashed She knew he didn't really listen to her advice. Her bulbous brown hair, despite the size of its style, was held perfectly still; no doubt from the copious amount of hair spray she used to keep it that way. There was a pause of silence for a few minutes as his aunt pottered about in the kitchen and gathered several different pots and pans together and placed them onto the stove. She grabbed a chopping board and made her way to the fridge.
"You need to get some food in you boy, you look positively skeletal." She prodded his belly with a stick that she was not holding seconds ago, and Vector wondered where it had appeared from.
"Well dad thinks I should lose weight." Vector huffed. Clarice laughed.
"Your father wouldn't know anything about good diets. I make sure my children are kept thin." She barked. Her pink cardigan fluttered as a breeze crept in from under the garden door. Vector sipped his water, then gulped it all down.
"Yeah, how are they?" Vector asked. "How many you got now?"
"Little rats they are." She hissed bitterly from inside the fridge. "I can't seem to make enough of these boxes for them. Kids don't know respect these days." She gestured with a stick to some new boxes on the floor, and then to a black marker pen on the kitchen table. "I have over forty now. Forty! Can't seem to get enough volunteers to work with me. Don't blame them. I hate kids."
"I was a kid once…" Vector said pointedly. She looked at him dimly and she shook her head.
"But you were a little angel my deary." She patted him softly on his shoulder with the stick. "Still… if the girls all misbehave there's old woody here to bring them back in line." She said while waiving the stick around. Vector regarded it with shock and he edged away from her.
"Well, the sooner you can get them moved onto new homes the better." Vector mentioned. His aunt shook her head.
"There will always be more. Shows how downhill things are going in this world. Oh well, they make me plenty of money selling cookies so I'm not complaining."
Her face contorted darkly with a slick smile. She removed the empty glass from Vectors suddenly slack hands and noticed his face had turned ghastly pale white.
"What on earth is the matter with you?" She asked him oddly. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"
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XXXXXXXXXX
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