THE JOKER VERSUS TIN-TIN.
Having tweaked the last of the mechanisms and recalibrated the figures, Gordon double checked the new settings were correct, and, with a satisfied grin, snapped the back on, tightened the screws and returned the scales to their usual place in the bathroom.
'Let's hope it works this time,' he mused.
Running his finger around the neck of his tee-shirt, he double checked the coast was clear before slipping out of the bedroom. Praying he wouldn't encounter Kyrano he headed for the lounge. The aquanaut had planned everything down to the last detail, so he knew he wouldn't have long to wait before the results of his latest handiwork came to fruition. Noting his absence, Gordon grabbed a handful of biscuits from his father's plate, and bounded for one of the loungers on the balcony, easing his latest issue of 'The Daredevil's Guide to Practical Pranks,' from under his tee-shirt, on the way. To anyone entering the room he exuded an air of supreme indifference, with his nose buried deep in the magazine, munching avidly on his father's biscuits. He was in fact primed, waiting for his latest scheme to unfold.
********
Tin-Tin entered the lounge just ahead of her employer, a forlorn look on her pretty Eurasian features. Misreading her mood, Jeff's paternal instincts took over as he endeavoured to administer some comfort.
"Try not to be so glum Tin-Tin. The month'll soon pass and Alan'll be home before you know it." He looked up as John entered the lounge, deep in conversation with Scott. Both stopped, noting the look of despondency on the young girl's face.
"What is it honey?" John asked as Scott dropped into the seat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"I think it has something to do with our youngest brother." Scott supplied.
"What you need is a slice of my special chocolate cake dear, that's sure to buck you up." Grandma Tracy soothed, heading back for the door she'd just entered. The sounds of wailing brought her to a rapid halt, "Why Tin-Tin….oh dear…. come on you boys; move aside." She shooed Scott to one side and put her arm around the young girl, as John handed Tin-Tin a tissue.
"Th-thankyou John."
"What's wrong dear?"
"I-I can't tell you."
"Of course you can dear. Now what is it? Is it Alan?"
Tin-Tin shook her head, dabbing her eyes with the tissue John had handed her.
"Has someone upset you?" Mrs. Tracy felt this was highly unlikely, but needed to be sure.
At the shake of the young girl's head she searched for other possible reasons.
"It's because those new suspenders you ordered got mixed up in the post and they sent that hernia truss instead, isn't it?"
"Grandma!" Tin-Tin gasped, grabbing a handful of tissues and burying her red face under them.
Mrs. Tracy cleared her throat, a warning look on her face waiting for the stifled laughter to stop.
"Well if it's not that then is it……" She tried several more possibilities while the males of the household looked on with lost expressions. Unable to coax out of Tin-Tin the reasons for her mood, Grandma Tracy attested to her original idea that what
Tin-Tin needed was a piece of calorie laden chocolate cake, which was a perfect mood enhancer. This brought results, along with a resumption of tears.
"I don't want any cake. I'm never eating any again….ever, and I'm going on a diet." Tin-Tin said emphatically, twisting the tissues and dabbing at her eyes.
This had the reaction making every jaw drop, including Mrs. Tracy's.
"Good heaven's Tin-Tin, what on earth's gotten into you?"
"I've put on over eight pounds!"
"Where?" was the mental question on every male's lips? An analytical scan of her figure had them baffled.
"You're kidding, right?"
"Do I look as if I am Scott?"
"Tin-Tin Kyrano, you've no more put on eight pounds than I've mastered a three point turn in Thunderbird two!"
'Over my dead body,' Jeff breathed.
"But I have Mrs. Tracy. This is my day for weighing myself. I stood on the scales this morning and they don't lie. I've put on over eight pounds. Two last week and six this week. At this rate I'll….."
Scott glanced at his father silently indicating his perplexity. What was the big deal, eight pounds was nothing. Jeff responded wordlessly, conveying the situation called for diplomacy, delicacy and understanding were the female form was concerned. John rubbed the back of his neck, from where he was looking there didn't appear to be a problem; he flicked a glance over to his auburn haired brother who looked to be sublimely oblivious to the whole proceedings, as he crammed something into his mouth, chomping with relish behind his magazine. John lost some colour when he glimpsed the title, making a mental note to visit the incinerator the minute the present situation had been dealt with. Forcing his attention back to Tin-Tin, he suggested, "Maybe your scales are off."
Jeff arched a brow, reaching round for a biscuit and frowning when there weren't any.
"Why don't I check 'em out?" Scott offered, glad of something to do.
"I don't see how they can be." Tin-Tin wailed, accepting a fresh tissue, "besides, my stars said I'd be dealing with weighty issues this week, and you know how accurate they are."
'Stars? Accurate? John blinked, "Oh honey….."
"It's true, they have been so accurate lately; everything they've predicted has come true."
"Now hold on Tin-Tin, stars are just a bit of fun. How can they be accurate, for the entire population?" Jeff said, still frowning at his empty plate.
"Well these have been Mr. Tracy, just as if they've been written for me." Tin-Tin responded adamantly. "Last week they predicted those with two T's in their name, expensive tastes and surrounded by water would have to watch their weight, as a gain of two pounds were on the cards. This week they said those born on the 20th whose last name began with a K and a liking for," she flushed slightly, "fast pilots, would be judged by the scales to the tune of six pounds. Don't you see, it's all come true!"
"Oh, stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Tracy.
"No it isn't, I have put on eight pounds."
"Do you have any of those old horoscopes left?" John asked, " I wouldn't mind taking a look."
Grateful John was taking her seriously; Tin-Tin went and collected them.
"What do you have in mind son?"
"I'm not sure yet, maybe checking on the web to see whether the originals match up to Tin-Tin's versions, would be a start." He cast another glance over to the balcony to see that Gordon had now adopted a horizontal position and, hands behind his head, appeared to be snoozing beneath his magazine.
Tin-Tin returned with the two issues of 'Couture for the Modern Woman.', just as Scott breezed in with a set of scales.
"I don't know why you're doing this," Tin-Tin said eyeing the scales gloomily, as she handed John the magazines, "it won't undo the weight I've gained, I'll still have to diet…..and the thought of never having anymore chocolate……"
"There; there now Tin-Tin, take it easy." Jeff patted her arm consolingly.
"Scott, they're not my scales!"
"I know that honey, I've got Brains checking yours over."
"Then why have you brought these?"
"Just a little experiment Tin-Tin, stand on them will ya?"
"Oh Scott, do I have to? Wasn't once enough?"
"Humour me, hmm?"
"Going somewhere Gordon?"
"Er, just thought I'd nip over and get some simulator practice in on TB2."
Jeff nodded his approval, just as Virgil sauntered in, catching the tail end of Gordon's statement. "As long as it's only the simulator you practice on…..and what's up with Tin-Tin?"
"Oh she bust her bathroom scales seems like she's put on a couple of stone or something." Gordon ducked as the cushion Tin-Tin aimed with stunning accuracy hit him just above his jaw line. "Umph."
"Gordon Tracy, I'm never swimming with you again."
"That's a heck of a lot of stuff you're giving up this week honey. Hey Virg', have you heard? Tin-Tin's giving up chocolate cake?"
"Much good that does me," Virgil responded, "Tin-Tin's not the one with the voracious appetite…..now if you'd said Scott was giving it up……."
"Hey; in your dreams sonny."
"What're you doin' with those bro', bustin' 'em?"
"Hey, have a little respect round here, they're not for me. Tin-Tin? When you're ready."
Reluctantly she approached the scales, tentatively stepping onto the cool dark metal with her eyes tight shut. She swallowed hard into the silence, waiting for the verdict.
"What do you normally weigh honey?......come on now don't be shy."
Tin-Tin whispered a figure.
"Well now, that's interesting."
Tin-Tin's eyes snapped open as Scott read out the verdict. Her trepidation transforming into a smile as she saw the results for herself. She whooped with delight, quickly retesting the scales, and beamed as the same result winked back at her. Her infectious delight brought responding smiles all round.
"So you see Tin-Tin, you never did gain eight pounds; you've been the same weight the whole time."
"But how come……"
"Well now, whad'ya know." The sound of John's voice brought them back to the matter of the magazines. He turned to them from the computer console. "I've just double-checked with the web editorials of your magazine Tin-Tin, and their horoscope section for Gemini's varies considerably to yours."
"So?" Virgil asked.
"So, simply put, Tin-Tin's Stars have been tampered with, altered, changed…." John proclaimed.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, but who, how?"
Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!
"Go ahead Brains."
"Ah, erm, Mr. Tracy, I-I conducted th-those tests S-Scott requested and I er thought you'd er, like to know th-the results."
"Go on Brains."
"T-The analysis sh-shows the scales were out o-of alignment to the tune o-of eight point three pounds. I-I've, er, recalibrated them, so you shouldn't h-have any more p-problems now."
"Thanks Brains, I'm sure Tin-Tin'll be mighty relieved to hear that."
"Now we just want Gordon."
"We do? What for?" Grandma asked.
"Oh I figure he might be able to supply the answers." John smiled, waiting.
Several light bulbs went on simultaneously.
********
"Gordon, I'd like to see you in the lounge in two minutes."
"I'm a little tied up right now can't it wait Dad?"
"Naturally. I fully concur with you continuing your simulator practice……I'll send Tin-Tin and the boys over, and let Alan know the situation……then of course there's Kyrano….."
Jeff examined the tips of his fingers as he listened to the static………."Alright; alright. I'm on my way."
Jeff remained straight faced as he noted the edge of panic in his sons' voice. He would have loved to give free rein to his emotions, but he had his image to uphold, his sons expected it of him. So it was with a resolute air of authority that he watched the figure of his fourth born sidle cautiously into the room, a defensive posture about him as he saw the welcoming committee.
Jeff put out a hand to hold Tin-Tin back. "Its okay honey, we'll deal with this."
"I have to hand it to you Gordon, that devious mind of yours can certainly dream 'em up." John held out the magazines, "how'd you change the horoscopes?"
"I want to know why?" Tin-Tin felt she had to ask.
"The scales; that was an inspired touch." Scott grinned, then coughed, resuming a stern look as he saw the way Tin-Tin glared at him.
Gordon grinned too before hurriedly resuming his contrite posture.
"So how did you doctor these horoscopes?"
Gordon turned back to John and shrugged, his ego getting the better of him. "It was easy, just a simple case of using that new programme to laser out the old horoscope then photocopy the er, new versions onto the original page, then hey presto."
"And the scales?"
Gordon shrugged modestly at Scott. "That was a breeze." He faltered as saw Tin-Tin roll up her sleeves and pick up a cushion. He didn't like the way she closed in on him or that gleam in her eye.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry Tin-Tin; it was just a bit of fun…..I didn't mean you any harm……..what are you gonna do with that oomph cushion Tiiiiiin-uuuuumgh-Tin, I'm (Whoooooosh) soooorrrry aaahhh. I'll (thwack) never (biff) do that (bash) huuuuuuuhhhhpghhhhh, again. Aaaaarrrrgh, huuuumph, urgh, honey!"
"I know you won't," she said swinging with all her strength, and smiling as it connected, "and don't you honey me, you, you…….."
"Hey, mind my face!"
"It won't do any damage to that!" and to prove it she aimed another direct hit.
"Hey you guys, aaaargh don't just stand there….. help!........No! Not like that!" Gordon gasped as several cushions were picked up, only breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of force used when they were laughingly directed at him. "Argh! Tin-Tin, noooooooo!" he yelled trying to scramble under the coffee table. "Dad! Are you just going to stand there and let her beat the hell out of me?"
"You think I'm unwise enough to intervene when she's in that mood?"
"Grandma?" he gasped trying to deflect the blows.
"He's all yours dear." Mrs. Tracy chuckled, "I'll leave you to it." she said heading for the door.
"Traitors, huuuuumph, okay that's enough, or I'm going to have to tell Alan you've been taking sneaky looks at Rick O'Shay's programme again……..Ooooouch!"
"Threaten me would you Gordon Tracy, well I'll just tell him you've been using his trophy for target practice!"
"You'd lie?"
"Try me!"
"You're too hard girl."
"Just thank your lucky stars I don't know how to do a Vulcan neck pinch," she breathed swinging the cushion again, "oooooops. NOW look what you've done!" she giggled as a white mass exploded upwards.
"What I've done," he declared, using the opportunity to duck behind the sofa, "you were the one swinging that thing round with the determination of an Amazon…..hey I'm…I didn't mean that." he held up his hands placatingly as she approached with another cushion.
"I always wondered what that new stuff was they filled these things with……it's all yours Gordon."
"It's what? Hey wait a minute! You can't think of leaving me with this mess to clean up." He said watching as the fibres danced and flitted, filling the room like a mass of elusive soap suds.
You catch on fast."
"Oh, no! This'll take for ever."
"GOOD!"
"Hey where are you going?........ to inform your Dad?"
Tin-Tin watched as he fell into step beside her, his boyish face oozing charm to mask his anxiety.
"I'm thinking about it……however I'm sure Alan would love to be filled in first." It was her turn to work on remaining straight faced as she headed for the kitchen and that piece of therapy in the shape of chocolate cake, with Gordon's pleading and cajoling ringing in her ears.
********
"Erm, what are you gonna do about this Dad?" Scott said, brushing blithely at the fluffy mass that had now settled on them and was spreading with blissful ease over which ever surface it could find.
"Why, I'm going to get Kyrano to show Gordon where the vacuum cleaner is kept." Jeff responded with irony.
*********
Alan's story is next: Gordon knows his brother well, knows which buttons to press and has pressed them gleefully, so how come Gordon has won immunity from Alan's backlash?