Hurrah! People reviewed! My, but you all are ever so nice. Thanks for
the encouragement.
Little story, before the actual story, I was sitting down, you know, thinking up the next chapter, when suddenly it dawned on me. I'm writing from the POV of a genuis. A brilliant, talented, smart person. Who's supposed to have smart, genius-y ideas. But I have to use *my* brain to think them up! (For the record, I don't have an IQ of 300) Not only that, but I have to be funny at the same time!! AAAAAaaahhhhhh!!!! After several hours and/or two seconds of screaming, I finally calmed down.
Because really, I'm writing from the POV of a MAD genius (see title for reference), and hey, that means I've got at least half of that down. :)
Oh yeah, and this was supposed to be a first season thing, but I accidentally added Mina in...oopsy. So, just glaze over that continuing inaccuracy.
One last thing: its occurs to me now that I have a habit of torturing poor Darien. ( It just happens. But, he always leaves a better man. Besides, think of Mr. Darcy, he was an awful lot like Darien (I happen to think that the SM cast would do a terrific job of acting out that book. If anyone has written one, or read one, can you tell me so I can read it?)
R&R, please, at ffnet or eileenblzr@yahoo.com
Confessions of a Mad Scientist Eileen Blazer January 2003
Chapter Two
"So.if she weighs the same as a duck, then..she's a witch!" -Monty Python
I wonder, did Einstein ever have to defend a friend's intelligence, and secretly play matchmaker at the same time? I doubt it, yet surely it would have been a better use for his great mind. What's the Theory of Relatvity in comparison to my problem?
Elemenary, my dear reader, that's what. Ah, but of course a true genius would have avoided friends all together, especially the confusing, love-struck, pestering sort that routinely surrounded me.
Not that I didn't adore them, understand, but when you're trying to think, they had this little habit of interferring with my train of thought as though they were reincarnations of Nell Fenwick.
Nightfall found me plopped on a sleeping bag in the middle of Lita's living room, caught between two conversations about 1. all the reasons why Mina should *not* date the Shoe Guy, and 2. if ugly space aliens were to land on Earth and request romantic favors in exchange for rare
gem stones, would anyone beside Margret McMillion (who would grant Harry Never-Washed-My-Hair Herbert romantic favors, if raspberry rootbeer was involved) actually accept?
I participated a bit, because I had some opinions on the Shoe Guy who had instisted we play rock paper scissors to decide if 'by November 23' meant, actually, November 23, or the day before the 23. Apparently, my multiple sources, joined with the good ol' English language, and common sense just wasn't enough for him. Go figure, (but don't worry, my rock beat his two pointy little fingers and the strappy blue sandals on sale now rest happily in my closet).
There was Lita's mini-rant on the inaccuracy of recipies found on the back of Betty Crocker's Ultra Chocolate Fudge cake mix.
Mostly, though, I thought to myself. I tried to concentrate, but scientific, but looking back, under such conditions, and facing such a delicate task as was mine, is it any wonder I came up with crazy ideas?
While flipping through the channels, Rei spotted an Orlando Bloom interview, and my companions flocked to the television set to drool over the elf-playing, 'hot celebrity of the month'.
Myself, being much more of an Elijah girl, dropped back onto the pillow and tried to put in some serious thought towards my plans.
Darien Shields. Egotistical, definitely; easy prey, no. How to trick him...
Many intelligent people had been outwitted. The Man in Black outsmarted self-proclaimed genius Vizzini by filling both glasses with a poison he was immune to; Kirk defeated the logical, calculating mind of Spock by making flamboyant, almost careless moves to knock the Vulcan off balance. The former was sly and cunning, while the latter was bold and risky.
My own attack would need to be a combination of both.
Serena soon slipped next to me. "You must be thinking of Darien," she said.
"Why?"
"You're frowning."
I smiled. "How did you get the rest of the make-up off?"
"My mom helped. She kept scrubbing my face with vegetable oil. Then my dad cam home and saw the rags. He thought I had applied it all myself and had washed it off to hide the evidence."
I winced. Mr. Tsukino was a terribly loving father. He cared so much about Serena that some times it felt like he cared...too much. No make- up, no boys, no sudden hair cuts, no dresses shorter than her knees, no staying at the mall past five thirty, no dances unless he chaparoned, no overnight trips unless he had had a conference with the parental units.... How would he respond to finding out a college student regularly picked on his little princess?
Hmmmmmmmm. That would be bad for Darien. Very bad indeed. It held possibilities.
Once a bad opinion of him was created, Darien would probably go out of his way to restore his good reputation. Somewhere along the line Serena's mom, the olive branch with feet, would get involved and insist that he join them for dinner, thus forcing Serena and Darien to be civil. Civility would lead to indifferernce, indifference to fondness, fondness to friendship, and friendship to love! It was so simple!
I must have laughed aloud then, because the rest of the girls turned towards me. "You okay, Aimes?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you. I just...thought of a funny joke, that's all"
It was a commericial, so Lita grinned broadly. "Oooh, I love good jokes. Tell us."
"Er," Jokes? JOKES? I can't tell jokes! I once tried to make a group laugh and ended up lecturing on the history of spinach (which *is* rather amusing if you really think about the way Princess Alberta must have looked walking into the throne room drenched in several pounds of the soggy vegetable, just before she ordered them all tossed intothe ocean, but now I'm just babbling). "Um, What do you get when you cross a Sailor Scout with a vacuum?"
"That's easy," Rei said. "Serena."
"Hey! I resent that!" The blonde whined, wrenching a donut from her mouth and stuffing into a sleeping bag.
"But don't deny it, I see."
"I didn't say that. I do deny it."
"Too late! You admit that you're a hog!"
"Am not!"
"Are to, are to, are to!"
Serena dove for the raven-haired girl, "You're so mean, just like that grumpy old Darien."
"Hey guys," Rei cried out, smushing Serena's face against the carpet. "Serena's so dumb, she thinks a carnivore is a person who works at the carnival! Ha ha heeeeeeeeeeeek!"
Serena grabbed Rei's hair and gave it a tug. "Oh yeah, well Rei's so crabby they offered her the part of Sabastian in the Little Mermaid sequel! Na na na na na na!" She stuck out her tongue as sat on Rei, ignoring her opponents violent thrashing.
Somehow, Rei got her hands on a pillow. She slammed it against Serena and the girls went tumbling again. Unfortunately, they fell straight towards Mina, who narrowed her eyes and reached for the My Little Pony pillow she'd brought along.
And the war was on.
I pulled back, away from the feathery battle, sliding neatly into my sleeping bag, thinking of only one thing. Which, I'm sure, you can guess.
Why did Serena have to cram a jelly-filled into *my* bag? ******************
On Thursdays, I volunteered at the hospital. My mom thought it would be a good experience for me.
Ha! I spent hours typing names, responding to pointless requests.
"Yes, Sir, Helen Granger? You're daughter is on the third floor, room 336, Mr. Granger. I'm sorry you can't take that horse up there, Mr. Granger, I don't think it should even be in here. Why? I guess there's just a rule about livestock in the hospital."
Every now and then, a young doctor would wander past my little desk, read the name tag and grow flustered. Did I really seem like the kind of self-absorbed girl who would complain to my mother if they didn't offer me a snickers, compliment my skills, and predict a 'very prosperous future' for me, and ask: did I want anything from the staff lounge?
The older ones were even worse. They'd get that look in their eye, "I remember when you're mother came here. She looked just like you. How old are you now, Sweetie, about ten? Gonna be starting middle school soon?"
I don't want to sound mean. They were all nice people. But I had accepted the position of president of volunteering against my will, forced by my mother to give up my afternoons of observation at the Tokyo College Science department.
And (shh, don't tell Rei) I really, really, liked the pyrotechnics there. You have not lived until you've seen giant exploding bubbles.
But that Thursday was unusually helpful to me.
Serena was also a volunteer, though she was a candystriper. She would prance in, white and red strings weaved into her hair, uniform tidy. She loved the interaction with patients, and conversations with complete strangers came so naturally to her.
I guess that's what my mom wanted me to learn.
Anywho, she pulled in front of me with her flower cart. "Hey, I think 115's flowers are wilting. Got any money? I'm gonna get her some replacements."
I pulled out a few dollars and handed them to her.
"Thanks!"
She darted into the flowershop. There are windows everywhere in the hospital, and I had a clear view of her flirting with the flowershop guy. That was their routine. She'd ask for new flowers to keep the patients happy, he'd remind her of how many patients they had and how much money they'd lose if they gave them all new flowers, she'd bat her eyes, and he'd give in.
I had an even better view of Darien's eyes growing darker than the bat cave as he watched the scene too. He'd entered while I was distracted, but I was paying a lot more attention now.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
"I'm looking for Dr. Michealson."
"Um....he's in level 3. That's two lefts and two rights."
Darien finally tore his eyes away, and glanced at me funny. "That would lead me right here."
"Would it? Oh, oops. Sorry." So he was a fast thinker. I couldn't just tell him anything and expect him to believe it. "His office is right behind me, actually, but his previous appointment hasn't left yet. Have a seat."
He did.
"So, Darien, still going to become a doctor?"
"Yes."
"That's great."
"I know."
Well, Geez, I thought. Don't make it too easy to talk. I tried something else. "You should say hi to Serena when she comes out."
"I'm here to talk to important people, Ami. Hows it going to look if I chit chat with the kids?"
Was he really this much of a jerk? "Then maybe you better stop talking to me; I'm a month younger that Sere, you know."
He sighed. "I never meant to say that you're a kid. You're obviously a lot brighter than the rest of your friends." He leaned in. "You're like me, you're going to go somewhere in life."
Like him! I was so rude and arrogant? The only one like him was his reflection! "Serena's smart. She just not a show off."
"Right. And I'm the prince of earth." The door opened, and Mr. Mike called for his next appointment. Darien bowed, and left me.
The jerk!
The creep!
The nerve!
The pencil in my hands snapped and I stared at the broken bits in amazement. They made a messy trail across my paper.
A trail.
A trail to follow.
A trail to follow to reach the goal.
I could create a trail for Darien, subtle hints that would lead him, unknowingly, to Mr. Tsukino. Hints that would influence him, causing him to say things he wouldn't normally say.
A trail that would make Darien think he'd created his own bad situation, while I sat back and watched. His arrogance would fail him, land him in a bad spot. Its common knowledge that bad situations either brought out the best and or worst in people. There was a chance I could only ruin things even more, but the risk made for an interesting gambit.
There had to be a decent guy somewhere under all that pride.
A green, leafy thing was brought down before my eyes. I looked up to see Serena grinning, lips red from the licorice that hung from her mouth. "nd I got a rose for me. Was that Darien I saw?"
"Yup."
"Agh. I hate him."
No you don't, I wanted to say. You like him. A lot. And he likes you. But darn it, he can't be with you if he's too busy courting his own ego!
Subject One was stubborn. And like a horse that refused to allow a rider, he would have to be broken.
Ami, I said to myself as that last analogy came and drifted away, aren't you getting a bit carried away? Wouldn't the science community be appalled at your lack of professionalism?
They would indeed.
If.
If I didn't explain. But I would explain. I'd be very thorough in my report. Subject One was like a little duck caught in an oil spill. Only instead of being covered in a black, consuming, deadly, syrupy substance, he was drowning in his own arrogance. I, the environmentally conscious scientist, had to draw him in, wipe off the oil, so he could be released back into the wild and play nice with all his little duck friends.
Yes, this was just the beginning. Persistance makes things perfect. "He's really is a jerk."
"I'm glad you finally agree with me. But-"
"He needs to be humiliated."
"Well, that's what I've been say-"
"In front of lots of people."
"I like the sound of tha-"
"He needs to end up river dancing on public television while wearing a lavender tutu and a pink flamingo jacket, singing I Will Survive."
She paused. "Are you sure you're not feverish? We don't need to...I mean, how are you going to trick him into...?"
Silly bunny, I thought. Tricks are for kids.
*******************
Okay, so. what do you think? I was trying to keep a self-imposed deadline (or else, like, months elapse before I update). Good news: I made it! Bad news: it was probably not all that funny. But it will be. I promise. Funnyfunnyfunnyfunnyfunny. There will also be a little bit more Serena/Darien interaction. And you'll like it, or my name isn't Huebert Gerald Gerrigand.
Please review! Reviews make the world go round! They also make a great stuffing for dumplings, but I won't go into that.
Questions? Comments? Coconuts? I'm at Eileenblzr@yahoo.com
Little story, before the actual story, I was sitting down, you know, thinking up the next chapter, when suddenly it dawned on me. I'm writing from the POV of a genuis. A brilliant, talented, smart person. Who's supposed to have smart, genius-y ideas. But I have to use *my* brain to think them up! (For the record, I don't have an IQ of 300) Not only that, but I have to be funny at the same time!! AAAAAaaahhhhhh!!!! After several hours and/or two seconds of screaming, I finally calmed down.
Because really, I'm writing from the POV of a MAD genius (see title for reference), and hey, that means I've got at least half of that down. :)
Oh yeah, and this was supposed to be a first season thing, but I accidentally added Mina in...oopsy. So, just glaze over that continuing inaccuracy.
One last thing: its occurs to me now that I have a habit of torturing poor Darien. ( It just happens. But, he always leaves a better man. Besides, think of Mr. Darcy, he was an awful lot like Darien (I happen to think that the SM cast would do a terrific job of acting out that book. If anyone has written one, or read one, can you tell me so I can read it?)
R&R, please, at ffnet or eileenblzr@yahoo.com
Confessions of a Mad Scientist Eileen Blazer January 2003
Chapter Two
"So.if she weighs the same as a duck, then..she's a witch!" -Monty Python
I wonder, did Einstein ever have to defend a friend's intelligence, and secretly play matchmaker at the same time? I doubt it, yet surely it would have been a better use for his great mind. What's the Theory of Relatvity in comparison to my problem?
Elemenary, my dear reader, that's what. Ah, but of course a true genius would have avoided friends all together, especially the confusing, love-struck, pestering sort that routinely surrounded me.
Not that I didn't adore them, understand, but when you're trying to think, they had this little habit of interferring with my train of thought as though they were reincarnations of Nell Fenwick.
Nightfall found me plopped on a sleeping bag in the middle of Lita's living room, caught between two conversations about 1. all the reasons why Mina should *not* date the Shoe Guy, and 2. if ugly space aliens were to land on Earth and request romantic favors in exchange for rare
gem stones, would anyone beside Margret McMillion (who would grant Harry Never-Washed-My-Hair Herbert romantic favors, if raspberry rootbeer was involved) actually accept?
I participated a bit, because I had some opinions on the Shoe Guy who had instisted we play rock paper scissors to decide if 'by November 23' meant, actually, November 23, or the day before the 23. Apparently, my multiple sources, joined with the good ol' English language, and common sense just wasn't enough for him. Go figure, (but don't worry, my rock beat his two pointy little fingers and the strappy blue sandals on sale now rest happily in my closet).
There was Lita's mini-rant on the inaccuracy of recipies found on the back of Betty Crocker's Ultra Chocolate Fudge cake mix.
Mostly, though, I thought to myself. I tried to concentrate, but scientific, but looking back, under such conditions, and facing such a delicate task as was mine, is it any wonder I came up with crazy ideas?
While flipping through the channels, Rei spotted an Orlando Bloom interview, and my companions flocked to the television set to drool over the elf-playing, 'hot celebrity of the month'.
Myself, being much more of an Elijah girl, dropped back onto the pillow and tried to put in some serious thought towards my plans.
Darien Shields. Egotistical, definitely; easy prey, no. How to trick him...
Many intelligent people had been outwitted. The Man in Black outsmarted self-proclaimed genius Vizzini by filling both glasses with a poison he was immune to; Kirk defeated the logical, calculating mind of Spock by making flamboyant, almost careless moves to knock the Vulcan off balance. The former was sly and cunning, while the latter was bold and risky.
My own attack would need to be a combination of both.
Serena soon slipped next to me. "You must be thinking of Darien," she said.
"Why?"
"You're frowning."
I smiled. "How did you get the rest of the make-up off?"
"My mom helped. She kept scrubbing my face with vegetable oil. Then my dad cam home and saw the rags. He thought I had applied it all myself and had washed it off to hide the evidence."
I winced. Mr. Tsukino was a terribly loving father. He cared so much about Serena that some times it felt like he cared...too much. No make- up, no boys, no sudden hair cuts, no dresses shorter than her knees, no staying at the mall past five thirty, no dances unless he chaparoned, no overnight trips unless he had had a conference with the parental units.... How would he respond to finding out a college student regularly picked on his little princess?
Hmmmmmmmm. That would be bad for Darien. Very bad indeed. It held possibilities.
Once a bad opinion of him was created, Darien would probably go out of his way to restore his good reputation. Somewhere along the line Serena's mom, the olive branch with feet, would get involved and insist that he join them for dinner, thus forcing Serena and Darien to be civil. Civility would lead to indifferernce, indifference to fondness, fondness to friendship, and friendship to love! It was so simple!
I must have laughed aloud then, because the rest of the girls turned towards me. "You okay, Aimes?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you. I just...thought of a funny joke, that's all"
It was a commericial, so Lita grinned broadly. "Oooh, I love good jokes. Tell us."
"Er," Jokes? JOKES? I can't tell jokes! I once tried to make a group laugh and ended up lecturing on the history of spinach (which *is* rather amusing if you really think about the way Princess Alberta must have looked walking into the throne room drenched in several pounds of the soggy vegetable, just before she ordered them all tossed intothe ocean, but now I'm just babbling). "Um, What do you get when you cross a Sailor Scout with a vacuum?"
"That's easy," Rei said. "Serena."
"Hey! I resent that!" The blonde whined, wrenching a donut from her mouth and stuffing into a sleeping bag.
"But don't deny it, I see."
"I didn't say that. I do deny it."
"Too late! You admit that you're a hog!"
"Am not!"
"Are to, are to, are to!"
Serena dove for the raven-haired girl, "You're so mean, just like that grumpy old Darien."
"Hey guys," Rei cried out, smushing Serena's face against the carpet. "Serena's so dumb, she thinks a carnivore is a person who works at the carnival! Ha ha heeeeeeeeeeeek!"
Serena grabbed Rei's hair and gave it a tug. "Oh yeah, well Rei's so crabby they offered her the part of Sabastian in the Little Mermaid sequel! Na na na na na na!" She stuck out her tongue as sat on Rei, ignoring her opponents violent thrashing.
Somehow, Rei got her hands on a pillow. She slammed it against Serena and the girls went tumbling again. Unfortunately, they fell straight towards Mina, who narrowed her eyes and reached for the My Little Pony pillow she'd brought along.
And the war was on.
I pulled back, away from the feathery battle, sliding neatly into my sleeping bag, thinking of only one thing. Which, I'm sure, you can guess.
Why did Serena have to cram a jelly-filled into *my* bag? ******************
On Thursdays, I volunteered at the hospital. My mom thought it would be a good experience for me.
Ha! I spent hours typing names, responding to pointless requests.
"Yes, Sir, Helen Granger? You're daughter is on the third floor, room 336, Mr. Granger. I'm sorry you can't take that horse up there, Mr. Granger, I don't think it should even be in here. Why? I guess there's just a rule about livestock in the hospital."
Every now and then, a young doctor would wander past my little desk, read the name tag and grow flustered. Did I really seem like the kind of self-absorbed girl who would complain to my mother if they didn't offer me a snickers, compliment my skills, and predict a 'very prosperous future' for me, and ask: did I want anything from the staff lounge?
The older ones were even worse. They'd get that look in their eye, "I remember when you're mother came here. She looked just like you. How old are you now, Sweetie, about ten? Gonna be starting middle school soon?"
I don't want to sound mean. They were all nice people. But I had accepted the position of president of volunteering against my will, forced by my mother to give up my afternoons of observation at the Tokyo College Science department.
And (shh, don't tell Rei) I really, really, liked the pyrotechnics there. You have not lived until you've seen giant exploding bubbles.
But that Thursday was unusually helpful to me.
Serena was also a volunteer, though she was a candystriper. She would prance in, white and red strings weaved into her hair, uniform tidy. She loved the interaction with patients, and conversations with complete strangers came so naturally to her.
I guess that's what my mom wanted me to learn.
Anywho, she pulled in front of me with her flower cart. "Hey, I think 115's flowers are wilting. Got any money? I'm gonna get her some replacements."
I pulled out a few dollars and handed them to her.
"Thanks!"
She darted into the flowershop. There are windows everywhere in the hospital, and I had a clear view of her flirting with the flowershop guy. That was their routine. She'd ask for new flowers to keep the patients happy, he'd remind her of how many patients they had and how much money they'd lose if they gave them all new flowers, she'd bat her eyes, and he'd give in.
I had an even better view of Darien's eyes growing darker than the bat cave as he watched the scene too. He'd entered while I was distracted, but I was paying a lot more attention now.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
"I'm looking for Dr. Michealson."
"Um....he's in level 3. That's two lefts and two rights."
Darien finally tore his eyes away, and glanced at me funny. "That would lead me right here."
"Would it? Oh, oops. Sorry." So he was a fast thinker. I couldn't just tell him anything and expect him to believe it. "His office is right behind me, actually, but his previous appointment hasn't left yet. Have a seat."
He did.
"So, Darien, still going to become a doctor?"
"Yes."
"That's great."
"I know."
Well, Geez, I thought. Don't make it too easy to talk. I tried something else. "You should say hi to Serena when she comes out."
"I'm here to talk to important people, Ami. Hows it going to look if I chit chat with the kids?"
Was he really this much of a jerk? "Then maybe you better stop talking to me; I'm a month younger that Sere, you know."
He sighed. "I never meant to say that you're a kid. You're obviously a lot brighter than the rest of your friends." He leaned in. "You're like me, you're going to go somewhere in life."
Like him! I was so rude and arrogant? The only one like him was his reflection! "Serena's smart. She just not a show off."
"Right. And I'm the prince of earth." The door opened, and Mr. Mike called for his next appointment. Darien bowed, and left me.
The jerk!
The creep!
The nerve!
The pencil in my hands snapped and I stared at the broken bits in amazement. They made a messy trail across my paper.
A trail.
A trail to follow.
A trail to follow to reach the goal.
I could create a trail for Darien, subtle hints that would lead him, unknowingly, to Mr. Tsukino. Hints that would influence him, causing him to say things he wouldn't normally say.
A trail that would make Darien think he'd created his own bad situation, while I sat back and watched. His arrogance would fail him, land him in a bad spot. Its common knowledge that bad situations either brought out the best and or worst in people. There was a chance I could only ruin things even more, but the risk made for an interesting gambit.
There had to be a decent guy somewhere under all that pride.
A green, leafy thing was brought down before my eyes. I looked up to see Serena grinning, lips red from the licorice that hung from her mouth. "nd I got a rose for me. Was that Darien I saw?"
"Yup."
"Agh. I hate him."
No you don't, I wanted to say. You like him. A lot. And he likes you. But darn it, he can't be with you if he's too busy courting his own ego!
Subject One was stubborn. And like a horse that refused to allow a rider, he would have to be broken.
Ami, I said to myself as that last analogy came and drifted away, aren't you getting a bit carried away? Wouldn't the science community be appalled at your lack of professionalism?
They would indeed.
If.
If I didn't explain. But I would explain. I'd be very thorough in my report. Subject One was like a little duck caught in an oil spill. Only instead of being covered in a black, consuming, deadly, syrupy substance, he was drowning in his own arrogance. I, the environmentally conscious scientist, had to draw him in, wipe off the oil, so he could be released back into the wild and play nice with all his little duck friends.
Yes, this was just the beginning. Persistance makes things perfect. "He's really is a jerk."
"I'm glad you finally agree with me. But-"
"He needs to be humiliated."
"Well, that's what I've been say-"
"In front of lots of people."
"I like the sound of tha-"
"He needs to end up river dancing on public television while wearing a lavender tutu and a pink flamingo jacket, singing I Will Survive."
She paused. "Are you sure you're not feverish? We don't need to...I mean, how are you going to trick him into...?"
Silly bunny, I thought. Tricks are for kids.
*******************
Okay, so. what do you think? I was trying to keep a self-imposed deadline (or else, like, months elapse before I update). Good news: I made it! Bad news: it was probably not all that funny. But it will be. I promise. Funnyfunnyfunnyfunnyfunny. There will also be a little bit more Serena/Darien interaction. And you'll like it, or my name isn't Huebert Gerald Gerrigand.
Please review! Reviews make the world go round! They also make a great stuffing for dumplings, but I won't go into that.
Questions? Comments? Coconuts? I'm at Eileenblzr@yahoo.com