"Mulch Diggums," Growled a large and particularly menacing female troll,
"Once we pull this off, you will die."
The unrepentant dwarf shrugged at the once formidable bodyguard, and replied with a hurt, "Hey, you asked for it. You wanted an in to the Haven, and I did my best. You should be giving me academy awards for the makeup job."
Through layers of sticky latex, paint, outlandish ears and more than a few boxes of hair and warts, Butler managed to control himself. "And yet, for some reason, I'm not showering you with praise."
"You're just going through a phase."
"Yeah, a big hairy phase that may include anger. And when I'm mad, I tend to hurt things."
Mulch grinned. "Good! Use that anger! Bottle it up and pour it out in the shuttle port. But remember, no breaking things that look really expensive. We'll be footing the bill for all the damage you cause, keep that in mind."
"I was thinking more along the lines of breaking you."
"Now now now, keep your anger controlled. Place it in the imaginary ziplock bag. and put in in your big, hairy pocket."
"I don't have pockets."
"Work with me here, work with me."
"I did, and now I'm in a skintight latex contraption and loin cloth with lots of hair and warts and a head mask with outlandish ears while my Principal is lying miles away on his potential deathbed while we waste time arguing."
"Somebody needs a hug."
You could almost see the steam billowing under Butler's glued on, latex collar decorated with dirt and more mold than would probably pass health inspection. Butler was thinking about letting his hands hug Mulch's neck very, very seriously.
Fortunatly, however, Juliet walked in, momentarily distracting the boys from their quarreling.
Mulch nodded his approval. "Banshee is a good look for you."
Juliet grinned. "Thanks." She rotated slowly, letting them get the full measure of her outfit. "But look what I have for you." She held up a truly heinous outfit that was fit to gag a maggot. So to speak.
It was enough to flabbergast a dwarf. "What is that thing?"
Juliet's grin widened. "Well, I noticed that one of us didn't have a dress- up outfit, and it was hardly fair that me and Butler have so much fun with ours and you not be able to. So, I did a little research. Apparently you're just the right size to be a baby troll."
"No. No! I don't need a costume. I'm a native!"
"Exactly. And who's the head of the LEP Most Wanted List? Check the website. It happens to be Mulch Diggums, first, third, fourth, and fifth. An ugly goblin general is second, or you'd have all of them. Just because you had a good lawyer to get you out of prison does not mean that you're forgiven. Point is, you won't get through customs without a disguise. So, here it is."
"I refuse!"
"Too bad."
"Don't I get any say in this?"
Butler's hairy and warty hand somehow found it's way onto Mulch's shoulder. "Of course you do. Tell you what. You say as much as you want, and we'll pay as much attention as we want."
Mulch gulped. This would be an interesting trip to the Haven. To say the very, very least.
Since I have nothing else to do, I'll make it a very long chapter.
Holly poured herself a glass of orange juice. Oranges were a treat underground. They were only available when the Farmers Guild got the budget approved for expensive lights needed to grow the fruit. And this was the first year in decades that the budget had been passed. And Holly took every advantage of it. Orange juice, orangade, creamsicles, and every other kind of orange product found its way into her fridge.
And then there was the fruit itself, which she had placed in numerous fruit bowls around her apartment. All under a preserving spell, of course. She only ate about three a day. One with dinner. One with lunch. One for breakfast on the run. Which was what she was having now.
She downed the small glass of orange juice at a gulp and, grabbing an orange out of the nearest dish, headed for the door. She loved oranges for breakfast. Beat having kiwis everyday. They required much less peeling, and as she looked at the scar around her pointer finger, she thought that was a very good thing. Those pearing knives were sharp, and had certainly done their damage. Almost lost her trigger finger on that knife.
She ran into work, spitting out orange seeds into the nearest trash receptacle. Late again. Root would have her head. And then her badge. Not necessarily in that order, she thought, allowing herself a smile.
Trouble Kelp passed her in the hall. "Hey, Short. Root wants you to report for a physical at 9:30. No excuses." He grinned. "You're long overdue, apparently. Though why anyone's ever needed a physical before is beyond me."
"Thanks," Holly grinned back. "He probably wants to make sure I didn't break anything on the way in again."
They shared a chuckle, then she made a beeline for the nurse's office.
Trouble watched her go. Wow. That mindwipe really did its job. She wasn't herself. The whole obsession with oranges- sure, he liked them, all fairies did, but she had them every day. All the time. A common symptom of a mindwipe, oranges. And clumsiness. She had no where near the grace and agility she usually had. That always happened after being wiped, he knew, and she'd be back to normal in a couple days, she was already a lot better than she was three days ago, but it was really weird, watching the best in the LEP trip and fall, breaking her kneecap on the way to work. At least she had all her magic, and it was easy enough to heal, but still. It was unnerving.
Holly ran into the nurse's office, checked in, and was led into the Examination Room by a tall, neurotic looking nurse. She stumbled a little on the threshold, nearly giving the nurse a heart attack, but other than that she was fine.
By the end of the checkup, she was told she was in perfect health, just a little uncoordinated, and if she broke anything else to report back immediately. With that, she left, wondering if that diagnosis differed at all from the one she had suggested while on the examination table.
Heading to the Commander's office, she grinned to herself again. She wouldn't have a heavy workload today. Root had made a point of giving her the easier jobs, as to give her time to get over whatever clumsy spell she was in.
She burst into Root's office and stood at the ready, waiting for instructions. Not surprisingly, they came.
"Holly. Captain Short. Today you are on-" He scanned the list with a finger and stopped at the point she supposed was her name. "Shuttleports. Disneyland Paris' entrance. You're on security backup. if anything gets out of control, you're in the squad that gets it back in control."
"Understood."
"Off you go then." Root watched her leave. They were all behaving strangely. Holly- well, that was only natural, she'd just had a mindwipe. Clumsiness was to be expected. They once mindwiped another elf- Pegreen, or something to that effect- and he had been clumsy for weeks. She'd get over it.
He sighed, contentedly lighting a huge black fungus cigar. Nothing wrong this morning. What a wonderful feeling. Which only invited something bad to happen the next day.
============================================================================ ======
Artemis Sr. and Angeline staggered into the waiting room, crying.
"Why did he have to get sick, Timmy?" Angeline wailed. "Why? He's so young... so young..."
"I know, darling, I know. It isn't fair." Artemis Sr. wondered at the circumstance's irony. He had pressured his son to turn honest- and was doing so killing the boy?
They were led into the room Artemis was in. The doctor looked at them, and shugged. "He's still talking gibberish. I didn't tell him anything, just let him talk. You may have better luck, though." As he went for the door, he added, "I honestly don't know what to tell you. I'd say he'll get better, but I don't know. And I don't know if I'd believe that there is no risk of a coma. But I'll leave you to him, now."
He left. Angeline sat down in the chair by his bed.
"Arty? Arty, dear, It's me. Your mother, dear. Can you hear me?"
Artemis turned his head toward her, and opened blurry eyes. "Mother?"
"Yes, dear. And Father too."
"Daddy? And Butler?"
"Butler is at home, son," Artemis Sr. chimed in. "Are you feeling better?"
"Is- is Butler getting Holly?"
Angeline looked up at her husband, not knowing what to say. Artemis Sr. spoke up.
"Yes, he went home in a terrible rush to get her."
"He'll get her."
"Yes."
"And then she'll heal me, and we'll be fine."
"Of course, son."
"I feel better now."
"Good. Try and sleep a little, now."
"Father-" Artemis slurred, trying to articulate, "I- in Helsinki- It was the Mafiya- and in Murmansk-" He couldn't get it out. "I tried, Daddy, I had no choice."
"I- I understand, son." It was better to set his son's mind at ease. Who knew what the poor boy was talking about, but it was better this way.
"I couldn't tell you- I hadn't known, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I tried, Daddy, I tried." There were tears running down his cheeks.
Angeline felt tears pouring down her face. She looked up, and there was a wet trail over Timmy's cheeks as well. What ever had just happened, it meant a lot to all three of them.
================================================================
The unrepentant dwarf shrugged at the once formidable bodyguard, and replied with a hurt, "Hey, you asked for it. You wanted an in to the Haven, and I did my best. You should be giving me academy awards for the makeup job."
Through layers of sticky latex, paint, outlandish ears and more than a few boxes of hair and warts, Butler managed to control himself. "And yet, for some reason, I'm not showering you with praise."
"You're just going through a phase."
"Yeah, a big hairy phase that may include anger. And when I'm mad, I tend to hurt things."
Mulch grinned. "Good! Use that anger! Bottle it up and pour it out in the shuttle port. But remember, no breaking things that look really expensive. We'll be footing the bill for all the damage you cause, keep that in mind."
"I was thinking more along the lines of breaking you."
"Now now now, keep your anger controlled. Place it in the imaginary ziplock bag. and put in in your big, hairy pocket."
"I don't have pockets."
"Work with me here, work with me."
"I did, and now I'm in a skintight latex contraption and loin cloth with lots of hair and warts and a head mask with outlandish ears while my Principal is lying miles away on his potential deathbed while we waste time arguing."
"Somebody needs a hug."
You could almost see the steam billowing under Butler's glued on, latex collar decorated with dirt and more mold than would probably pass health inspection. Butler was thinking about letting his hands hug Mulch's neck very, very seriously.
Fortunatly, however, Juliet walked in, momentarily distracting the boys from their quarreling.
Mulch nodded his approval. "Banshee is a good look for you."
Juliet grinned. "Thanks." She rotated slowly, letting them get the full measure of her outfit. "But look what I have for you." She held up a truly heinous outfit that was fit to gag a maggot. So to speak.
It was enough to flabbergast a dwarf. "What is that thing?"
Juliet's grin widened. "Well, I noticed that one of us didn't have a dress- up outfit, and it was hardly fair that me and Butler have so much fun with ours and you not be able to. So, I did a little research. Apparently you're just the right size to be a baby troll."
"No. No! I don't need a costume. I'm a native!"
"Exactly. And who's the head of the LEP Most Wanted List? Check the website. It happens to be Mulch Diggums, first, third, fourth, and fifth. An ugly goblin general is second, or you'd have all of them. Just because you had a good lawyer to get you out of prison does not mean that you're forgiven. Point is, you won't get through customs without a disguise. So, here it is."
"I refuse!"
"Too bad."
"Don't I get any say in this?"
Butler's hairy and warty hand somehow found it's way onto Mulch's shoulder. "Of course you do. Tell you what. You say as much as you want, and we'll pay as much attention as we want."
Mulch gulped. This would be an interesting trip to the Haven. To say the very, very least.
Since I have nothing else to do, I'll make it a very long chapter.
Holly poured herself a glass of orange juice. Oranges were a treat underground. They were only available when the Farmers Guild got the budget approved for expensive lights needed to grow the fruit. And this was the first year in decades that the budget had been passed. And Holly took every advantage of it. Orange juice, orangade, creamsicles, and every other kind of orange product found its way into her fridge.
And then there was the fruit itself, which she had placed in numerous fruit bowls around her apartment. All under a preserving spell, of course. She only ate about three a day. One with dinner. One with lunch. One for breakfast on the run. Which was what she was having now.
She downed the small glass of orange juice at a gulp and, grabbing an orange out of the nearest dish, headed for the door. She loved oranges for breakfast. Beat having kiwis everyday. They required much less peeling, and as she looked at the scar around her pointer finger, she thought that was a very good thing. Those pearing knives were sharp, and had certainly done their damage. Almost lost her trigger finger on that knife.
She ran into work, spitting out orange seeds into the nearest trash receptacle. Late again. Root would have her head. And then her badge. Not necessarily in that order, she thought, allowing herself a smile.
Trouble Kelp passed her in the hall. "Hey, Short. Root wants you to report for a physical at 9:30. No excuses." He grinned. "You're long overdue, apparently. Though why anyone's ever needed a physical before is beyond me."
"Thanks," Holly grinned back. "He probably wants to make sure I didn't break anything on the way in again."
They shared a chuckle, then she made a beeline for the nurse's office.
Trouble watched her go. Wow. That mindwipe really did its job. She wasn't herself. The whole obsession with oranges- sure, he liked them, all fairies did, but she had them every day. All the time. A common symptom of a mindwipe, oranges. And clumsiness. She had no where near the grace and agility she usually had. That always happened after being wiped, he knew, and she'd be back to normal in a couple days, she was already a lot better than she was three days ago, but it was really weird, watching the best in the LEP trip and fall, breaking her kneecap on the way to work. At least she had all her magic, and it was easy enough to heal, but still. It was unnerving.
Holly ran into the nurse's office, checked in, and was led into the Examination Room by a tall, neurotic looking nurse. She stumbled a little on the threshold, nearly giving the nurse a heart attack, but other than that she was fine.
By the end of the checkup, she was told she was in perfect health, just a little uncoordinated, and if she broke anything else to report back immediately. With that, she left, wondering if that diagnosis differed at all from the one she had suggested while on the examination table.
Heading to the Commander's office, she grinned to herself again. She wouldn't have a heavy workload today. Root had made a point of giving her the easier jobs, as to give her time to get over whatever clumsy spell she was in.
She burst into Root's office and stood at the ready, waiting for instructions. Not surprisingly, they came.
"Holly. Captain Short. Today you are on-" He scanned the list with a finger and stopped at the point she supposed was her name. "Shuttleports. Disneyland Paris' entrance. You're on security backup. if anything gets out of control, you're in the squad that gets it back in control."
"Understood."
"Off you go then." Root watched her leave. They were all behaving strangely. Holly- well, that was only natural, she'd just had a mindwipe. Clumsiness was to be expected. They once mindwiped another elf- Pegreen, or something to that effect- and he had been clumsy for weeks. She'd get over it.
He sighed, contentedly lighting a huge black fungus cigar. Nothing wrong this morning. What a wonderful feeling. Which only invited something bad to happen the next day.
============================================================================ ======
Artemis Sr. and Angeline staggered into the waiting room, crying.
"Why did he have to get sick, Timmy?" Angeline wailed. "Why? He's so young... so young..."
"I know, darling, I know. It isn't fair." Artemis Sr. wondered at the circumstance's irony. He had pressured his son to turn honest- and was doing so killing the boy?
They were led into the room Artemis was in. The doctor looked at them, and shugged. "He's still talking gibberish. I didn't tell him anything, just let him talk. You may have better luck, though." As he went for the door, he added, "I honestly don't know what to tell you. I'd say he'll get better, but I don't know. And I don't know if I'd believe that there is no risk of a coma. But I'll leave you to him, now."
He left. Angeline sat down in the chair by his bed.
"Arty? Arty, dear, It's me. Your mother, dear. Can you hear me?"
Artemis turned his head toward her, and opened blurry eyes. "Mother?"
"Yes, dear. And Father too."
"Daddy? And Butler?"
"Butler is at home, son," Artemis Sr. chimed in. "Are you feeling better?"
"Is- is Butler getting Holly?"
Angeline looked up at her husband, not knowing what to say. Artemis Sr. spoke up.
"Yes, he went home in a terrible rush to get her."
"He'll get her."
"Yes."
"And then she'll heal me, and we'll be fine."
"Of course, son."
"I feel better now."
"Good. Try and sleep a little, now."
"Father-" Artemis slurred, trying to articulate, "I- in Helsinki- It was the Mafiya- and in Murmansk-" He couldn't get it out. "I tried, Daddy, I had no choice."
"I- I understand, son." It was better to set his son's mind at ease. Who knew what the poor boy was talking about, but it was better this way.
"I couldn't tell you- I hadn't known, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I tried, Daddy, I tried." There were tears running down his cheeks.
Angeline felt tears pouring down her face. She looked up, and there was a wet trail over Timmy's cheeks as well. What ever had just happened, it meant a lot to all three of them.
================================================================
