I AM SOOOOOOO SORRY!!!!!!!!!!! I got back a couple days ago, but I had too
much freakin' stuff to do!! And my stupid life has been very stressful. I
won't give any details, but I'll say that I some how ended up owing my
parents 50 bucks, I had to spend an entire afternoon scrubbing dead bugs
and filth off the car, the dish washer broke and - because last time it
happened I some managed to fix it - I had to spend I long time fiddling
with it, I somehow developed writer's block, plus a bunch other stuff.
Bakura: HA!
Shut up. Anyway, the arrival of issue 9 of Shonen Jump cheered me up enough to sit down and write this! YAAAAY!!!!!!!! *passes out pixie sticks to reviewers* Over sixty reviews! YEA!! But be warned... EVIL WRITER'S BLOCK IS UPON US!!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! *runs around in circles*
Not Your Average Muggles Chapter 6 - The Waffle Incident
Ron stared at the muggle device. What was it supposed to do? He couldn't tell. It looked like giant, metal butterfly with thick, square wings. The "wings" had patterns engraved into them. Eight different circles filled with a grid-like design grinned up at him.
Muggles had very strange ideas.
He considered asking Harry or Hermione about the mysterious machine, but the boy was assisting his father and the girl was doing the same for one of the twins. Ron turned back to the machine, trying unravel the mystery on the grids.
...Come to think of it, that design reminded him of a waffle. Yes, that did make sense. The hotel had said it served waffles for breakfast and it was breakfast, wasn't it? So this machine must make waffles somehow.
Ron took a step backwards and looked around, half expecting one of the hotel employees to come over and explain how to use the waffle machine. Nothing of the sort happened, so he set himself upon the task of figuring it out on his own.
Hermione would be so surprised.
But the more he stared at the muggle device the less it made sense. What had his father told his about breakfast machines? If only he had paid more attention! He remembered something about elekticity. Elekticity usually came from a plug. Plugs were attached to a wire. The wire was attached to the machine.
After careful examination he determined that, yes, the waffle machine ran on elekticity and that, yes, it did have a wire coming out of it so, yes, it did have a plug.
He was halfway there.
The machine wasn't working. Perhaps it wasn't plugged in. Ron took the wire in his hand and gave it a tug. He felt resistance from the other end so he decided that it had to be plugged in.
Yet nothing was happening.
Maybe he was missing something. His mother had always used batter to make waffles, so maybe he needed that. Looking around, he spotted a large group of cups placed next to the machine. Peering into one he discovered it was filled three quarters of the way with batter. Taking the cup, he filled each grid to the brim with batter. Still, nothing happened.
What was he doing wrong?
"Work," He told the machine. "Turn on. Make me waffles. I'm hungry."
He frowned. The machine wasn't obeying his commands! Maybe he just wasn't using the right words. He tried again.
"I want breakfast. Gimme waffles. I want food. Pleeeease?" He was getting strange looks from the surrounding muggles.
This wasn't the way to make it work, he decided. But what was? He couldn't see an on switch. Maybe it really wasn't plugged in and the resistance when he pulled it was because it had caught on something.
With that in mind, Ron ducked under the table the machine was placed upon and began to follow the wire. It led him under table after table. At one point he had gotten stuck in a pool of half-harden and extremely sticky jelly. He managed to pull himself free, but over did it and knocked over the table. Ignoring the stares he was receiving, Ron crawled under the next table and found the waffle-maker's plug.
To his disappointment, it was firmly plugged in so that that couldn't possibly be the problem. Frowning, Ron stepped out from under the table and made his way back to the waffle machine.
A thought accrued to him. Waffles had the grid pattern on both sides, but the way the machine was arranged the waffles would only have the design on one side. Noticing hinges attached both parts of the object, Ron pushed the pieces together. And, lo and behold, there was a button marked "power" next to some sort of dial on what was now the top. Slightly confused, the boy fiddled with the dial and pressed the button.
To his delight, a light on the machine illuminated. It must finally be working! Satisfied, Ron stepped back admire his handy work.
~*~
Malik stared blankly at his empty box of Cheerios. This was, without a doubt, boring. Why should he be forced to wait for Isis to finish? It wasn't like he was going to blow up the building or something.
"You know," The woman in question said, "you could just do it."
Malik glared at her. "I'm not going to apologize! I didn't do anything wrong, so there's no reason to beg them for forgiveness."
Isis sighed. "Really, Malik. At least go talk to them. They might not have minded and they might have. We have no way of telling unless you talk to them.
"Why can't YOU do it?" Malik huffed.
"Oh, I get it," the woman replied with a sly smile. "You're afraid."
"WHAT?"
Isis sat back and took a sip of her coffee. "You're afraid. You've just met these people and now I'm forcing you to go and ask them if they were freaked out by your bizarre personality. And if they say yes, you're going to have to apologize. You know what the answer's going to be and you're afraid. You're afraid for your pride. You're afraid of the word 'gomen.'"
"I am not!"
"You are. Maybe not from someone else's mouth, but from your own..." She trailed off, taking another sip of coffee.
Malik glared and her for a moment before turning his attention to the people he was supposed talk to. The black haired kid - Harry - seemed to be explaining how to use a toaster to an older man while the girl (Hermione?) looked to be showing a boy Malik hadn't met the function of the cooler full of milk boxes. The third person, Ron, was examining the waffle iron.
And Isis thought he was strange. Still, he might as well talk to them.
Pretending he was throwing his cereal box away, Malik stood up and made his way toward Harry, Hermione, the man, and a par of twins who had seated themselves at a table. As he stomped off his sister called:
"Remember, they're not completely insane like you are!"
Malik flinched, threw the cardboard box in his hand halfway across the hotel's "breakfast room" into a trashcan, and strolled over to Harry's table. Grumbling, he flopped down into a chair next to Hermione with out so much as an "Oohayo."
Needlessly to say, the wizards (and witch) were a bit surprised.
"Malik!" the brunette cried, nearly spilling her juice. "What're you doing?"
"Joyfully fulfilling the mission my wonderful sister has forced me to undertake," he answered, sounding anything but joyful.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "And what would that mission be?" Malik mumbled incoherently in reply.
"Well," said Mr. Weasley before Harry could question the Egyptian further. "I'm glad that you two have made a friend already!" turning to Malik he added, "And I suppose you've meet Ron as well?"
"Yeah..." Malik answered absentmindedly; "I took them on a tour yesterday..."
Mr. Weasley beamed. "A tour you say? How nice! I'm Author Weasley, by the way. Ron's father. And the two identical young men are his brothers, Fred and George."
The twins grinned mischievously at him and, in unison, chirped, "Ossu!"
"So nice to meet you!" the red headed man went on, "I'm glad Ron is making friends. He hasn't been very social lately, you know..." On and on the man prattled and Malik was beginning to feel that it would have been more exciting to hang out with Isis.
"So what did your sister want you to do?" Harry whispered as not to interrupt Mr. Weasley.
"Oh, she just wanted me to apologize."
Hermione blinked. "Apologize? Apologize about what? You've been very friendly and polite. Well, not that polite maybe, but you weren't really ever that rude."
Malik stared at her. "So you don't mind?"
"Mind what?" Harry wanted to know.
"The tour!" Malik cried. "You didn't find it strange or disturbing or any thing?"
"Well," said Hermione reasonably, "it was a bit strange."
"But," Harry began, "we've see too many odd things to find it really disturbing."
He had meant to say more, but was cut off by a large explosion in the background. They whipped around to see the table that had displayed the waffle irons consumed by flames. A maid was screaming, a woman desperately trying to douse the flames that danced on her crying son's overalls, a man was yelling about needing a fire extinguisher, and there was Ron. Completely covered in batter, the teen was dancing around the flames, his hair blending in with it perfectly.
"Like that, for instance," the black haired boy finished.
After a few minutes of chaos someone had managed to find the fire extinguished and put out the flames, but the hotel manager was enraged. "What idiot cause this?!" he bellowed. "What fool has ruined my property?!"
Ron timidly took a step forward. "I'm really sorry, sir, but I wasn't exactly sure--"
"YOU!" The manager looked murderous. Harry couldn't help but notice how large and muscular the man was; or how red his face was and the way his eyes bulged psychotically. He raised his hand as though the hit Ron...
As if as one Harry, Hermione, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley thrust their hands into their pockets, hands gripping their wands, ready to provide Ron with magical help. And, Harry observed from the corner of his eye, Malik made a similar movement.
As if in slow motion, the boy who lived watched the man's hand come down, but before he could do anything the hand stopped. The man, almost in a trance, lowered his hand and said, "I am sorry. I did not mean to snap at you like that. Please forgive me." And then, to Harry's shock, he walked away.
Harry glanced at Hermione, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley, but seeing the confused looks on their faces none of them had done anything either. Then his gaze fell upon Malik. The teen was watching the man's back with cold eyes, his hand still in his pocket. Without knowing why, Harry felt a chill go down his back. He was glad those eyes weren't looking at HIM.
When the manager was out of sight, the ice left Malik's eyes and he turned to Harry and Hermione and cheerfully said, "I'm supposed to meet my friends at the amusement park. Want to come?"
Harry blinked a Hermione gleefully answered "yes."
"Good," the blond nodded, "We'd better leave now. I'm supposed to be there in half an hour. C'mon." He gave a small wave in his sister's direction and headed toward the door.
"RON! GET OVER HERE!" Hermione called and the three trotted after Malik, unaware that they were about to meet some of the strangest people in Japan.
Bakura: HA!
Shut up. Anyway, the arrival of issue 9 of Shonen Jump cheered me up enough to sit down and write this! YAAAAY!!!!!!!! *passes out pixie sticks to reviewers* Over sixty reviews! YEA!! But be warned... EVIL WRITER'S BLOCK IS UPON US!!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! *runs around in circles*
Not Your Average Muggles Chapter 6 - The Waffle Incident
Ron stared at the muggle device. What was it supposed to do? He couldn't tell. It looked like giant, metal butterfly with thick, square wings. The "wings" had patterns engraved into them. Eight different circles filled with a grid-like design grinned up at him.
Muggles had very strange ideas.
He considered asking Harry or Hermione about the mysterious machine, but the boy was assisting his father and the girl was doing the same for one of the twins. Ron turned back to the machine, trying unravel the mystery on the grids.
...Come to think of it, that design reminded him of a waffle. Yes, that did make sense. The hotel had said it served waffles for breakfast and it was breakfast, wasn't it? So this machine must make waffles somehow.
Ron took a step backwards and looked around, half expecting one of the hotel employees to come over and explain how to use the waffle machine. Nothing of the sort happened, so he set himself upon the task of figuring it out on his own.
Hermione would be so surprised.
But the more he stared at the muggle device the less it made sense. What had his father told his about breakfast machines? If only he had paid more attention! He remembered something about elekticity. Elekticity usually came from a plug. Plugs were attached to a wire. The wire was attached to the machine.
After careful examination he determined that, yes, the waffle machine ran on elekticity and that, yes, it did have a wire coming out of it so, yes, it did have a plug.
He was halfway there.
The machine wasn't working. Perhaps it wasn't plugged in. Ron took the wire in his hand and gave it a tug. He felt resistance from the other end so he decided that it had to be plugged in.
Yet nothing was happening.
Maybe he was missing something. His mother had always used batter to make waffles, so maybe he needed that. Looking around, he spotted a large group of cups placed next to the machine. Peering into one he discovered it was filled three quarters of the way with batter. Taking the cup, he filled each grid to the brim with batter. Still, nothing happened.
What was he doing wrong?
"Work," He told the machine. "Turn on. Make me waffles. I'm hungry."
He frowned. The machine wasn't obeying his commands! Maybe he just wasn't using the right words. He tried again.
"I want breakfast. Gimme waffles. I want food. Pleeeease?" He was getting strange looks from the surrounding muggles.
This wasn't the way to make it work, he decided. But what was? He couldn't see an on switch. Maybe it really wasn't plugged in and the resistance when he pulled it was because it had caught on something.
With that in mind, Ron ducked under the table the machine was placed upon and began to follow the wire. It led him under table after table. At one point he had gotten stuck in a pool of half-harden and extremely sticky jelly. He managed to pull himself free, but over did it and knocked over the table. Ignoring the stares he was receiving, Ron crawled under the next table and found the waffle-maker's plug.
To his disappointment, it was firmly plugged in so that that couldn't possibly be the problem. Frowning, Ron stepped out from under the table and made his way back to the waffle machine.
A thought accrued to him. Waffles had the grid pattern on both sides, but the way the machine was arranged the waffles would only have the design on one side. Noticing hinges attached both parts of the object, Ron pushed the pieces together. And, lo and behold, there was a button marked "power" next to some sort of dial on what was now the top. Slightly confused, the boy fiddled with the dial and pressed the button.
To his delight, a light on the machine illuminated. It must finally be working! Satisfied, Ron stepped back admire his handy work.
~*~
Malik stared blankly at his empty box of Cheerios. This was, without a doubt, boring. Why should he be forced to wait for Isis to finish? It wasn't like he was going to blow up the building or something.
"You know," The woman in question said, "you could just do it."
Malik glared at her. "I'm not going to apologize! I didn't do anything wrong, so there's no reason to beg them for forgiveness."
Isis sighed. "Really, Malik. At least go talk to them. They might not have minded and they might have. We have no way of telling unless you talk to them.
"Why can't YOU do it?" Malik huffed.
"Oh, I get it," the woman replied with a sly smile. "You're afraid."
"WHAT?"
Isis sat back and took a sip of her coffee. "You're afraid. You've just met these people and now I'm forcing you to go and ask them if they were freaked out by your bizarre personality. And if they say yes, you're going to have to apologize. You know what the answer's going to be and you're afraid. You're afraid for your pride. You're afraid of the word 'gomen.'"
"I am not!"
"You are. Maybe not from someone else's mouth, but from your own..." She trailed off, taking another sip of coffee.
Malik glared and her for a moment before turning his attention to the people he was supposed talk to. The black haired kid - Harry - seemed to be explaining how to use a toaster to an older man while the girl (Hermione?) looked to be showing a boy Malik hadn't met the function of the cooler full of milk boxes. The third person, Ron, was examining the waffle iron.
And Isis thought he was strange. Still, he might as well talk to them.
Pretending he was throwing his cereal box away, Malik stood up and made his way toward Harry, Hermione, the man, and a par of twins who had seated themselves at a table. As he stomped off his sister called:
"Remember, they're not completely insane like you are!"
Malik flinched, threw the cardboard box in his hand halfway across the hotel's "breakfast room" into a trashcan, and strolled over to Harry's table. Grumbling, he flopped down into a chair next to Hermione with out so much as an "Oohayo."
Needlessly to say, the wizards (and witch) were a bit surprised.
"Malik!" the brunette cried, nearly spilling her juice. "What're you doing?"
"Joyfully fulfilling the mission my wonderful sister has forced me to undertake," he answered, sounding anything but joyful.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "And what would that mission be?" Malik mumbled incoherently in reply.
"Well," said Mr. Weasley before Harry could question the Egyptian further. "I'm glad that you two have made a friend already!" turning to Malik he added, "And I suppose you've meet Ron as well?"
"Yeah..." Malik answered absentmindedly; "I took them on a tour yesterday..."
Mr. Weasley beamed. "A tour you say? How nice! I'm Author Weasley, by the way. Ron's father. And the two identical young men are his brothers, Fred and George."
The twins grinned mischievously at him and, in unison, chirped, "Ossu!"
"So nice to meet you!" the red headed man went on, "I'm glad Ron is making friends. He hasn't been very social lately, you know..." On and on the man prattled and Malik was beginning to feel that it would have been more exciting to hang out with Isis.
"So what did your sister want you to do?" Harry whispered as not to interrupt Mr. Weasley.
"Oh, she just wanted me to apologize."
Hermione blinked. "Apologize? Apologize about what? You've been very friendly and polite. Well, not that polite maybe, but you weren't really ever that rude."
Malik stared at her. "So you don't mind?"
"Mind what?" Harry wanted to know.
"The tour!" Malik cried. "You didn't find it strange or disturbing or any thing?"
"Well," said Hermione reasonably, "it was a bit strange."
"But," Harry began, "we've see too many odd things to find it really disturbing."
He had meant to say more, but was cut off by a large explosion in the background. They whipped around to see the table that had displayed the waffle irons consumed by flames. A maid was screaming, a woman desperately trying to douse the flames that danced on her crying son's overalls, a man was yelling about needing a fire extinguisher, and there was Ron. Completely covered in batter, the teen was dancing around the flames, his hair blending in with it perfectly.
"Like that, for instance," the black haired boy finished.
After a few minutes of chaos someone had managed to find the fire extinguished and put out the flames, but the hotel manager was enraged. "What idiot cause this?!" he bellowed. "What fool has ruined my property?!"
Ron timidly took a step forward. "I'm really sorry, sir, but I wasn't exactly sure--"
"YOU!" The manager looked murderous. Harry couldn't help but notice how large and muscular the man was; or how red his face was and the way his eyes bulged psychotically. He raised his hand as though the hit Ron...
As if as one Harry, Hermione, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley thrust their hands into their pockets, hands gripping their wands, ready to provide Ron with magical help. And, Harry observed from the corner of his eye, Malik made a similar movement.
As if in slow motion, the boy who lived watched the man's hand come down, but before he could do anything the hand stopped. The man, almost in a trance, lowered his hand and said, "I am sorry. I did not mean to snap at you like that. Please forgive me." And then, to Harry's shock, he walked away.
Harry glanced at Hermione, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley, but seeing the confused looks on their faces none of them had done anything either. Then his gaze fell upon Malik. The teen was watching the man's back with cold eyes, his hand still in his pocket. Without knowing why, Harry felt a chill go down his back. He was glad those eyes weren't looking at HIM.
When the manager was out of sight, the ice left Malik's eyes and he turned to Harry and Hermione and cheerfully said, "I'm supposed to meet my friends at the amusement park. Want to come?"
Harry blinked a Hermione gleefully answered "yes."
"Good," the blond nodded, "We'd better leave now. I'm supposed to be there in half an hour. C'mon." He gave a small wave in his sister's direction and headed toward the door.
"RON! GET OVER HERE!" Hermione called and the three trotted after Malik, unaware that they were about to meet some of the strangest people in Japan.
