Anything but Ordinary3: Yes, I use a translator most of the time. Some of the Spanish is from my sister's good guidance...*waves bug zapper at x-men for snickering* Zip it. freetranslation.com is the only one I know of and use. It can translate-Spanish, French, German, English, Polis, and somethin' else, too.
VA-river-gal: No, Logan won't be deaf. The two chil'ren *puts on fake cajun accent* will be getting no more insturments or noise makers...I don't think anyway *peers into hotel room to check on the evil chil'ren* Oh, gracious, not again! *hurries into the hotel room to stop more blood shed*
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"Angel, open this door! I'm not baby-sitting alone!" "I can't! Tara, Remy grounded me to this room for the rest of the night,"Angel hollers back through the door of their bedroom. Tara scowls and tries to shove the door open, a difficult task since from the sound inside their room Angel is sitting against the door. "Angel, you open this door now! You are not grounded from baby-sitting no matter what Remy said. ANGEL!" Something crashes downstairs and she groans before taking off to see what David had done.
Downstairs: Living Room: David
"David, what did you do?"Tara demands as she makes her way into the room and studies the now broken tv. David looks up innocently from the bag of popcorn he holds in his small, pudgy hands. "I didn't do nuthin', Aunt Tara......want popcorn?"he questions, innocently as he eats another handful. Tara just stares at him. "Tv, Broke, Explain, one minute." Angel's simple "Tarzan" language apparantly does good as he begins to describe something about cartoons and throwing a toy car. "Wait a minute, I thought you were grounded to your room, Angel?" "Um....I am, but how could I leave you alone with the demon spawn?"she questions without looking away from the guilty six-year-old. Tara scratches her head. "Funny...Didn't we get called "Demon Spawn" when we were his age?" "Yeah...Scott called us that an' Kitty an' the blue chick an' the bad froggy.....an' the dude with the space helmet. Scary to think about..." Both girls shudder at the thought. Tara brightens, suddenly. "We were nothing like David and even if we were we're not anymore,"she explains,"Angel, take the demon child to the kitchen and get him some food while I try to figure out how to fix the tv."
"Don't try. DO. David, come to the kitchen...don't you want some leftover...um, chicken?" "Cluck, cluck!" David runs into the kitchen, followed shortly by an annoyed Angel. Tara rubs her hands together and kneels by the tv, going over the wrecked tv with her hands. "Wow, that's a lot of damage...what kind of car causes this much damage?" There's no answer, she hadn't really expected one. "Hmm, let me think....I got it! This'll be a synch!"
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"Want me to take you to a place where you can see a lotta chickens?" Tara looks up from her video game and at Angel, confused. "What are you up to?"she questions, noticing her friend's eyes intent on David who had been forcing her to read some book over and over for the last hour-a book about chickens. David's smile beams. "Yeah, I want chickens! Loss and loss (lots) of chickens!" Angel smiles and stands, pulling on her jacket and zipping it up, since outside there were clouds and a heavy wind blowing. The six-year-old drops the book and stuggles into his jacket. "Angel..." Tara shuts off the video game, AFTER saving. She gets ignored. "Angel Eli--" "Don't say that name. I'm just going to take him to see some chickens, Tara...want to come?" She walks around the table and mumbles something, quiet so only Tara could hear. David bounces up and down on his feet. "Chickens, Aunt Angel, chickens!" Tara shakes her head, but stands, stretching. "Sure, David...we'll get you chickens. Let's go."
"...Are you sure this is safe, Angel?" Tara looks up at David, who's now hanging off the front gate by the back of his shirt, clapping his hands, enthusiastically. She shrugs. "Safe enough. The odds of his falling are like....1000 to 19! The duct tape should hold him in place..." "When will the chickens come?"David yells without stopping in his clapping. "Soon...very soon." "Angel, there aren't any chickens around. The odds would be more like 100 to 9..just so you know." Angel rolls her eyes and heads back toward the mansion doors. "Point being? It doesn't matter....He won't fall. I have faith in my-our handiwork." Tara shakes her head, but follows her friend back inside. "If only I could have that kind of faith, if only." "Here, chickens, chickens! Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck!"
"If x6 what would x be in the equation- 5x-11?" Angel erases the work from her paper and looks at Tara, watching the semi-fixed, except for some static, tv. "X=3,"comes the reply even though she never moves her eyes from the tv in front of her and some blood and gore movie playing,"You should really do your own work, Angel. You won't always have me around...."(Gambit:This isn't the right answer! The author couldn't even figure out this problem! xRDx:*knocks out the annoying one and locks him up again...er*How did he guess I'm failing Algebra 2?)Pencil scratches against paper for a little while before an answer comes. "I'd better have you around for always!" "Forever, not for always." "There's a diffrence?" Angel closes the notebook, putting it into her bag and removing a normal reading book. Tara shakes her head. "Nevermind." "If you say so." Angel replys as she opens the book and begins to read. Silence echoes between them for a few moments except for the turning of pages and the clicking of the remote to other channels. Tara breaks it as something begins to pelt down on the roof; she looks up. "Is it raining, Angel?" She shrugs in response, lifting her head from the book to listen. "Yeah.." "It feels like we forgot something." Tara clicks the tv volume up louder and turns away from the gory murder scene on tv.
A new voice interrupts them, causing both to look up. "Would this be it, Tara, Angel?"Logan questions, holding up the soaking wet, pouting David by his shirt collar. Jean moves forward and takes her son from him, cradling the six-year-old as if he was an infant. "It's okay, honey. Mommy's here and mean Aunt Tara and Aunt Angel won't hurt you again..." Angel rolls her eyes at Tara. "We ain't hurt him this time..." The other X-Men come into the room as the two teenagers move over to sit together on the couch, Angel bringing her book. Rogue studies the two of them. "Why did you hang David on the gate?" "He was annoying..." "We do not hang chi'lren on the gate, petites." Tara scratches her head. "Not even annoying ones?" Logan scowls once at the "happy" family, worrying over David before returning his attention to her. "No, not even the annoying ones." "How do you know it was us, though?" Angel's question is quiet; she doesn't remove her gaze from the book this time. Laughter follows this statement. "Sugah, don't make us list everythang y'all ever did,"Rogue replies, brushing her gloved hand over Angel's hair and bringing a smirk similar to Gambit's into place on th girl's face. Tara and Angel trade looks. They settle back against the couch, crossing their arms. "You can't remember that much. Start listing......"
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Logan: Angel and Tara are so bad......
Other X-Men: How bad are they?!?
xRDx: No more Match Game for you guys. This is why you don't usually get tv. You pick up things that you shouldn't. This isn't Match Game no matter how many times you repeat that question.
Saber: *holds a sigh with 'NOT KITTY!' written across it*
xRDx: Riight....no more tv for real. How's this chapter people? The next chapter will reflect on NINE YEARS of SUMMER TORTURE! What could be better? *ignores the game of Match Game being played behind her*
Brotherhood: Supermarket Sweep!
X-Men: Match Game!
Angel and Tara: Weakest Link!................what? o_0
xRDx: *shakes head* They need something educational to watch or do.....*shakes head, sadly, walking off*
VA-river-gal: No, Logan won't be deaf. The two chil'ren *puts on fake cajun accent* will be getting no more insturments or noise makers...I don't think anyway *peers into hotel room to check on the evil chil'ren* Oh, gracious, not again! *hurries into the hotel room to stop more blood shed*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Angel, open this door! I'm not baby-sitting alone!" "I can't! Tara, Remy grounded me to this room for the rest of the night,"Angel hollers back through the door of their bedroom. Tara scowls and tries to shove the door open, a difficult task since from the sound inside their room Angel is sitting against the door. "Angel, you open this door now! You are not grounded from baby-sitting no matter what Remy said. ANGEL!" Something crashes downstairs and she groans before taking off to see what David had done.
Downstairs: Living Room: David
"David, what did you do?"Tara demands as she makes her way into the room and studies the now broken tv. David looks up innocently from the bag of popcorn he holds in his small, pudgy hands. "I didn't do nuthin', Aunt Tara......want popcorn?"he questions, innocently as he eats another handful. Tara just stares at him. "Tv, Broke, Explain, one minute." Angel's simple "Tarzan" language apparantly does good as he begins to describe something about cartoons and throwing a toy car. "Wait a minute, I thought you were grounded to your room, Angel?" "Um....I am, but how could I leave you alone with the demon spawn?"she questions without looking away from the guilty six-year-old. Tara scratches her head. "Funny...Didn't we get called "Demon Spawn" when we were his age?" "Yeah...Scott called us that an' Kitty an' the blue chick an' the bad froggy.....an' the dude with the space helmet. Scary to think about..." Both girls shudder at the thought. Tara brightens, suddenly. "We were nothing like David and even if we were we're not anymore,"she explains,"Angel, take the demon child to the kitchen and get him some food while I try to figure out how to fix the tv."
"Don't try. DO. David, come to the kitchen...don't you want some leftover...um, chicken?" "Cluck, cluck!" David runs into the kitchen, followed shortly by an annoyed Angel. Tara rubs her hands together and kneels by the tv, going over the wrecked tv with her hands. "Wow, that's a lot of damage...what kind of car causes this much damage?" There's no answer, she hadn't really expected one. "Hmm, let me think....I got it! This'll be a synch!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Want me to take you to a place where you can see a lotta chickens?" Tara looks up from her video game and at Angel, confused. "What are you up to?"she questions, noticing her friend's eyes intent on David who had been forcing her to read some book over and over for the last hour-a book about chickens. David's smile beams. "Yeah, I want chickens! Loss and loss (lots) of chickens!" Angel smiles and stands, pulling on her jacket and zipping it up, since outside there were clouds and a heavy wind blowing. The six-year-old drops the book and stuggles into his jacket. "Angel..." Tara shuts off the video game, AFTER saving. She gets ignored. "Angel Eli--" "Don't say that name. I'm just going to take him to see some chickens, Tara...want to come?" She walks around the table and mumbles something, quiet so only Tara could hear. David bounces up and down on his feet. "Chickens, Aunt Angel, chickens!" Tara shakes her head, but stands, stretching. "Sure, David...we'll get you chickens. Let's go."
"...Are you sure this is safe, Angel?" Tara looks up at David, who's now hanging off the front gate by the back of his shirt, clapping his hands, enthusiastically. She shrugs. "Safe enough. The odds of his falling are like....1000 to 19! The duct tape should hold him in place..." "When will the chickens come?"David yells without stopping in his clapping. "Soon...very soon." "Angel, there aren't any chickens around. The odds would be more like 100 to 9..just so you know." Angel rolls her eyes and heads back toward the mansion doors. "Point being? It doesn't matter....He won't fall. I have faith in my-our handiwork." Tara shakes her head, but follows her friend back inside. "If only I could have that kind of faith, if only." "Here, chickens, chickens! Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck!"
"If x6 what would x be in the equation- 5x-11?" Angel erases the work from her paper and looks at Tara, watching the semi-fixed, except for some static, tv. "X=3,"comes the reply even though she never moves her eyes from the tv in front of her and some blood and gore movie playing,"You should really do your own work, Angel. You won't always have me around...."(Gambit:This isn't the right answer! The author couldn't even figure out this problem! xRDx:*knocks out the annoying one and locks him up again...er*How did he guess I'm failing Algebra 2?)Pencil scratches against paper for a little while before an answer comes. "I'd better have you around for always!" "Forever, not for always." "There's a diffrence?" Angel closes the notebook, putting it into her bag and removing a normal reading book. Tara shakes her head. "Nevermind." "If you say so." Angel replys as she opens the book and begins to read. Silence echoes between them for a few moments except for the turning of pages and the clicking of the remote to other channels. Tara breaks it as something begins to pelt down on the roof; she looks up. "Is it raining, Angel?" She shrugs in response, lifting her head from the book to listen. "Yeah.." "It feels like we forgot something." Tara clicks the tv volume up louder and turns away from the gory murder scene on tv.
A new voice interrupts them, causing both to look up. "Would this be it, Tara, Angel?"Logan questions, holding up the soaking wet, pouting David by his shirt collar. Jean moves forward and takes her son from him, cradling the six-year-old as if he was an infant. "It's okay, honey. Mommy's here and mean Aunt Tara and Aunt Angel won't hurt you again..." Angel rolls her eyes at Tara. "We ain't hurt him this time..." The other X-Men come into the room as the two teenagers move over to sit together on the couch, Angel bringing her book. Rogue studies the two of them. "Why did you hang David on the gate?" "He was annoying..." "We do not hang chi'lren on the gate, petites." Tara scratches her head. "Not even annoying ones?" Logan scowls once at the "happy" family, worrying over David before returning his attention to her. "No, not even the annoying ones." "How do you know it was us, though?" Angel's question is quiet; she doesn't remove her gaze from the book this time. Laughter follows this statement. "Sugah, don't make us list everythang y'all ever did,"Rogue replies, brushing her gloved hand over Angel's hair and bringing a smirk similar to Gambit's into place on th girl's face. Tara and Angel trade looks. They settle back against the couch, crossing their arms. "You can't remember that much. Start listing......"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan: Angel and Tara are so bad......
Other X-Men: How bad are they?!?
xRDx: No more Match Game for you guys. This is why you don't usually get tv. You pick up things that you shouldn't. This isn't Match Game no matter how many times you repeat that question.
Saber: *holds a sigh with 'NOT KITTY!' written across it*
xRDx: Riight....no more tv for real. How's this chapter people? The next chapter will reflect on NINE YEARS of SUMMER TORTURE! What could be better? *ignores the game of Match Game being played behind her*
Brotherhood: Supermarket Sweep!
X-Men: Match Game!
Angel and Tara: Weakest Link!................what? o_0
xRDx: *shakes head* They need something educational to watch or do.....*shakes head, sadly, walking off*