Oh my, hehehee, looks like I caused quiet a reaction with my little cliffhanger there-don't worry folks, for now I'm back ,with more. But first things first, and that's a huge big smoochie to all of you, who reviewed-SMOOOOOOOOOCHH!
Well, now that we have caught or breath, let's go on and see, what Helga,Arnold, Gerald, Phoebe and Co. are up to…^^
Disclaimer: Everything isn't mine, except the poem, so hande with care..
Reviews: just keep 'em flowing, folks..^^
Archive: Sure. Where?
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3. Printed proof
"And another victory down the drain, literally!" moaned Gerald, as he stepped in behind Arnold, shaking the water from his hair. His tirade came to a sudden halt, as he bumped into his best friend, who had stopped dead in his tracks.
"Gerald, somebody broke into my room!" rasped the blonde boy, as he ran towards the desk, checking all the papers and drawers, until he found the pink book. Wiping some sweat and rain from his brow, he huffed.
"Phew! Good luck, the evidence is still here."
Walking in, Gerald closed the door behind him, and stepped beside Arnold.
"Man, Arnold, who would try to steel something from you, dude? I mean, it's not like you're rich ore something, right?"
He looked at Arnold, who wore a pensive and serious expression.
"There's something missing."
Having escaped the container, Helga ran through the pouring rain towards her home. Three streets away, she slipped into an alley, pressed herself into the shadows, and, after making sure, no one could see her, she pulled the white, lined sheet from inside her shirt.
Placing a heart-felt kiss of glee on the wet paper, she sighed in relief, as her eyes traveled over the page.
"Ok, I didn't get the poetry book, but at least I got my poem back, and there's no more evidence to-Tucker's drugstore and copyshop?!?"
Bright blue eyes stared in disbelief at the tiny emblem in the left lower corner of the page.
And then a desperate scream sailed across the grey afternoon sky, very much like the wail of a lost soul.
Rubbing his tired eyes, Gerald turned to Arnold, and stated:
"Listen, now we collected and compared about two dozen fingerprints, and they all belong to one and the same person-well, aside of ours, that is. Whatcha say, we continue sorting out the rest of the evidence tomorrow, when we're up and awake?"
Blinking, Arnold nodded, even as her turned off the lamp standing on his desk.
"Ok, Gerald, I think, you're right. Just let me lock this stuff someplace safe."
"Fine, you do that, Arnold. See ya tomorrow."
Exchanging their secret handshake, the two boys said good-bye, and then Gerald was gone.
Yawning, Arnold slipped out of his pullover and shirt, pulled back the blankets on his bed-
and stared in disbelief at the dark, muddy, grey-brown splotch on his white linen sheet.
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Now, what could that be, huh? Well turn the page(as it were) and read on!
