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Author Note:
The following story was inspired on a drawing I once developed for Halloween, which showed Phoebe holding up a fan of cards along with a certainly tetric smile.
I want to thank especially to Terry Pratchett for being so awfully good with his Discworld saga that it even reached to inspire me to imitate his hillarous style.
Also, special thanks to my beloved Eve13, who not only introduced me to the Discworld side of the soul but also corrected the grammar of this story, meaning that, unless it's on purpose, you won't read horryble meestakes l'ke thezze. (so be thankful for her, okay?)
Nothing else. Enjoy this story, that starts... like this:
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The Queen Rules
By:
Megawacky Max
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- Chapter 1 -
The Return of the King
(Tolkien, eat your heart out)
Summer vacation, the one and only always-loved Summer Vacation. As soon as the 16 year-old teenagers rushed away from the last day of classes, the plans began to be plotted.
"I'm gonna surf the waves all day!", Sid yelled his happiness out. Stinky supported the feeling.
"Well, I'm gonna stay on the couch all day!", Harold happily screamed. "Only me, the TV, and a really huge bag of potato chips!"
"What? Harold, I've thought you said we'd go shopping next Monday," Patty Smith reminded him.
"Oooohhhh... Do we have to?", the pink boy whined.
"--and we can go on the Merry-Go-Round," Patty finished, a wink added to the statement.
Sid and Stinky snickered at that. Harold rose a menacing closed first. "Quit laughing!", he demanded, failing on the initiative.
"Harold on the Merry-Go-Round!", Sid exploded in laugher.
"Ya'll'll make it stop with tha extra weight!", Stinky said, holding his sides.
"That's it! I'll mash you two!!", Harold claimed.
The rest saw him pursue the laughing couple along the street.
"That was *so* uncool...", Rhonda's snobbish self declared. "How good that I'm going to be far away in South America. They say Bariloche is full of snow, this month."
"Bar-e-loh-cheh?", Helga asked. She even twisted her lips to pronounce the word. "What is that and how do you eat it?"
"No, Helga," Phoebe explained: "Bariloche is a tourist city of Argentina. It's placed next to Los Andes' range. This time of the year it is a great winter vacation spot."
"Are you going to tell me that you're gonna MISS all the summer fun because of a lot of cold snow?", Helga scowled at the rich girl.
"But of course! This heat will only make me sweat and break out in pimples. On the other hand, I can't wait to see my cold flushed cheeks after sliding down the mountain on my new skis..."
"Rolling down the mountain, you mean...", Helga muttered. "However, I do know what I will do: spend this entire time with Arnold! Isn't that true, my sweetie?", she blinked in at him in such a way everyone around could hear the click. She was like that ever since they began to date.
"Say, Helga... eh... No," the football-head blushed.
"Wha?"
Arnold thought the words before even daring say them. Helga's last reaction had been as nice as the one a person usually has after realizing he had sat on an anthill with barbecue sauce on his pants.
"I got mail from my cousin Arnie. He asked me to *cough*visithim*cough*."
"You're leaving??", both Gerald and Helga asked.
"Well, yes... He's weird, I accept that... but he's also family."
"Well, Phoebs, that leaves all the time for us," Gerald smiled. Phoebe smiled too. Helga gave both of them a quick glare and Gerald hurried to add: "... AND Helga, of course... She's your best friend."
Saved by the bell, Gerald and Phoebe walked along, holding hands, while Arnold and Helga took their own path, trying to enjoy their last hours together.
They reached Phoebe's house. They held hands tight, there.
"Okay, what will we do tomorrow, then?", she asked.
"It's a lot of vacation, so I won't give you much fun the first day," he joked. "First, for tomorrow morning, a picnic at the city park. In the afternoon, a newly-released movie: 'Yo Ernest! - The Movie'."
"Wow! They say it's a great movie! Too bad the advertising companies didn't work well on its publicity," Phoebe commented, a shade of shame on her face.
"Yes, I know. Darn Mickeylodeon network, always against neat shows. Anyway, that's just morning and afternoon, 'cause after it all comes the evening, and with the evening comes a romantic dinner for two!"
"Oh, great! What will it be?"
"Hot-Dogs and canned sodas...", Gerald said. Phoebe's smile decreased a little at that, until he added: "... while we stare at the moon, from a table with candles on the roof of my house!"
"Really??", she cheered up again.
"Really!", he nodded. "My big brother was forced into taking Timberly to an amusement park, so the house will be sibling-free. Mom and Dad will watch a movie."
"Gerald, that sounds amazing...", she hugged his arm. "You're so attentive."
"I do my best, Honey..."
They gave each other a funny Eskimo-Kiss. Phoebe giggled at that, as she always did ever since they began to Eskimo-Kiss, two years ago on their first formal date.
Gerald stepped back. "So, my lady, I'll come tomorrow morning to pick you up. Be ready at nine AM, okay?"
"Why, sure!"
Phoebe stepped in her house with an ear-to-ear smile. Gerald mouthed a low 'Yes!' of happiness and began his path back home.
He was going by a fenced-in alley, when...
"What do you have?", a voice said. Gerald stopped.
"Five Gold Piles and one Cranky Uncle," a second voice spoke.
Gerald's eyes received the words 'Cranky Uncle' as a decoding key. A part of his brain he thought he had buried suddenly emerged from the depths. Cards, symbols, dice, rules... all of that appeared in his thoughts.
"It's... the game...", he gasped. His back glued to the fence. He could even hear the gloomy organ music echoing within his head.
"What will you risk?", the first voice asked.
"Uhmm...", the second one doubted.
Don't risk your Gold Piles, don't risk your Gold Piles, Gerald repeated over and over in his mind.
"I'll risk four Gold Piles," the second voice said.
"No...!", Gerald sent a hand to his forehead.
"Too bad," the first voice laughed," because I have two Tax Man cards. I get your gold."
Gerald jumped and stuck his head over the fence. "How, in the name of the Kingdom, could you dare to risk four Gold Piles?!", he cried, giving in to the character.
From the other side of the fence, two teenagers turned their surprised eyes to him.
Gerald returned home. His mother heard him walking in.
"Gerald, where have you been? It's almost dinner time!"
"Uh... is it? Aw, sorry, mom... I got delayed by a couple of friends who needed instructions," he apologized.
"It's okay. I realize it's Summer Vacation, so you don't need to lie. You surely wanted to take advantage of all the time you could," she smiled as she received her son.
"Uh... gee, you're smart, mom... I can't hide anything...", he blushed.
Gerald went upstairs to his room and searched in the deepest and most forgetful underworlds of the wardrobe. From under a pile of old clothes that could have spoke German by then, he pulled out a ribbon-tied shoe box and opened it.
From inside he produced a dusty deck of cards along with a couple of dice.
"I can't hide anything... not even an addiction from the past...", he whispered. If his voice had a form, it would have been liquid... and leaking hope.
The clock read nine-fifteen in the morning. Phoebe was walking in circles at the kitchen of her house, coincidentally around a chair with a picnic basket on it. When one gets up three hours before only to prepare a picnic basket, fifteen minutes of waiting could easily turn in Turtle Time (which is slow, small and usually hard to be patient with).
"Maybe this clock is not correctly set...", she said when peeking at the time yet again. She even had the funny idea the clock had just stepped one second backwards as she stared at it. Then, finally, the doorbell rang.
Here is a good moment to remark the switch of mood. From an Impatient Phoebe suddenly came a Perky Phoebe, literally skidding on the kitchen floor while navigating in a direct line toward the main entrance. Or at least as direct as the walls allowed. The switch was as sudden as a nuclear reaction... Possibly as powerful as one, too.
But when Phoebe opened the door, she found Helga.
"Hello, Phoebs! Ready for the first day of Summer? Ah, I see you have the picnic basket ready; good timing!"
"Helga? Aw... I was expecting Gerald," she got sad.
"Gerald? How could that be? He was playing with some other guys at the park. I saw it myself," Helga commented.
"Is that true? How could he forgot our date?" The basket in her hand hit the floor.
"You can ask him. I bet he's still at the park, playing that dorky card game."
Phoebe's mind froze. Well, not precisely. It didn't freeze in the sense that it got so cold the brain cells began to sneeze and buy medicines; it froze in the sense of stopping time around it, leaving time for an internal sequence of gasping, wondering and astonishment. Not necessarily in that specific order.
Which didn't actually STOP time, in fact. People can't do that (not any of the ones Phoebe knew, at least). It's just a metaphorical expression which tries to express (because, guess what, expressions tend to attempt such actions) that her mind became full of fast thoughts.
Which now made her idly wonder how it could freeze if it was, in fact, thinking faster.
Anyway... She remembered Gerald telling her about an addiction he had had with a trading card game. Maybe he was back into it?
"I think I'll need to talk to him... Helga, do you remember where he is?"
"Sure, I'll take you there. Eeeh... Bring the picnic basket, will you? I have the funny idea you and me will eat alone."
They went to the city park. Since it was the first day of summer vacation the place was pretty full. One could have tossed a stone in any direction and heard the curses with no possible mistake. Helga guided her friend to the place she had seen Gerald. They peeked over a few bushes.
"My... When did he make that crown?"
"Let me see," Phoebe asked. She peeked too, and gasped. Gerald was at the head of a small circle of disguised guys. All the outfits were medieval-like, as if Time had decided to play a joke on that specific area of the park and make it travel several centuries backwards. As for Gerald, he was wearing a golden crown made from yellow cardboard and a cape.
"You win again, your Highness!", one of the people said.
"As usual...", Gerald scoffed in a snob tone Phoebe ignored he had.
"Gerald?", the girl said while going through the bush.
"Ack! An invader from another Kingdom!", one of the geeks yelped. The rest of them got worried.
"People! People! Settle down! She's... eh... a friend of mine. Now, stay here while I talk to her," Gerald ordered.
He stood up and rushed to the bushes. He grabbed Phoebe by her arm and dragged her into the plants.
"What are you doing here?", he asked.
"Me? What are YOU doing here, you mean!", she complained. "We were supposed to be here at nine, together!"
Gerald seemed nervous. "Eh... I... I'm sorry. I've just had a slight lapse back into a certain game. But that doesn't mean I won't carry out our other two appointments for today!", he hurried to say, because he saw Phoebe getting sad.
"I forgive you. I mean, it must have been just a mistake. Can I trust you to pick me up for the movie?"
"Sure thing...", he Eskimo-Kissed her. It felt like a cold kiss that time. "This afternoon at three. Be ready."
"You too...", she smiled.
They came out of the bushes: Gerald heading back to his group and Phoebe towards Helga. She gave her friend an odd smile, then followed her to the picnic area. Phoebe had a good time with Helga... but it would have been better with Gerald. She was expecting to see that movie, together.
But she kept waiting. Gerald never came to pick her up. She tried phoning his house, but his family said he had gone to some tournament or something. Phoebe was right when she thought that it was better to forget about that dinner together.
And things got worse, day after day. Phoebe tried to locate her beloved at any possible time, but he hardly was home. The few times she was able to talk with him were in apologizing phone calls ("I'll be there, I swear!") and casual meetings on the street ("I'm in a hurry! See you later!").
After a few days, Phoebe sank into a sad mood. Helga couldn't help but notice, and got worried for her. Phoebe explained to her friend all her suffering, then Helga gave judgement.
"Men... They all stink," Helga murmured.
"Even Arnold?", she asked.
"From the time he's with his cousin to the day he returns... yes, him too."
"What am I going to do?", she wondered, and she sounded desperate. "Gerald doesn't pay any attention to me. I can't convince him to leave that stupid game."
"You know...", Helga smirked, "... Arnold once told me how he managed to bring him back from that world of geeky nature. Arnold challenged Gerald to a game and he had to accept. When they reached the final round, Arnold risked everything and that got Gerald in moral peril. Maybe you can repeat that move."
"I don't think I can beat him. He appears to be undefeatable. Well, of course. . . He's 'The King'," she rose her arms in exasperation.
Helga stared at her friend with a curious glow in her eyes. Somewhere inside that head full of pictures of Arnold and wrestling moves, two or more wires began to sparkle together.
"What are the odds?", she slowly, carefully spoke.
"What?"
"What are the odds of beating him? I mean... You can beat other players in other card games. I've seen it. What if you learn a new game, then?"
Phoebe looked away. She sunk in her thoughts, and she was hoping to come back before running out of air. Helga tossed a life jacket.
"And you can kick his butt," she added.
Phoebe's thoughts grabbed the life jacket. She turned her head to Helga, and the bossy girl was aware of that smile in Phoebe's face.
It could have made a hole through a block of steel.