Thanks to: The Ghost Twins, the Virus Twinnies, Agent 01 Moore, and Big Bird (the uploader). You know who you are, o frequenters of the Furcadia Matrix dream. (Yes, the little twins are named after the actors.)
To those of you who don't know what I'm talking about: go to , download and install it, and send a whisper to Agent 01 Moore. (No, that's not me.)
Obligatory disclaimer: No, I don't own the Matrix or anything to do with it. That belongs to the Architect... uh, I mean the Wachowski brothers. And Warner Brothers. Yeah.
"MOMMMMMMM! The twins got paint on my homework AGAIN!" shrieked Linnelly Connor, a thirteen-year-old girl. At the sound of her shout, two small, giggling white figures had fled the scene of the crime. Also known as her bedroom.
She sighed and had a look at the paint-smeared mess on her desk, once a page and a half of math questions. Now, blue and yellow paint, especially small handprints, was all over the paper and most of the surrounding area.
Linnelly stuck her head out of her room. "I told you to put the paint away when you're done with it, Mirellah!"
Her seven-year-old sister looked pouty. "I didn't know they could get into it that fast!"
"Well, they did! And you should've known. Remember what happened when Mom left that pudding on the counter?"
Both girls shuddered. That had come to be known as 'The Pudding Incident.' The three-year-old twins had found bowls of banana cream pudding on the kitchen counter, left there by Mrs. Connor to set. Within the half an hour it took her to return from the grocery store, the kitchen, as well as all five of the Connors- the twins, Linnelly, Mirellah, and their older sister Lilluai- were completely covered in pudding.
"Oh, yeah." The little girl grinned. "That was good pudding."
"Whatever… Mom should never have signed them up for arts-and-crafts classes. They're gonna be little terrors."
"They already are!" complained Lilluai from down the hall.
On the other side of Lilluai's bedroom wall, the twins in question were sitting on one of their beds, giggling about what they'd done to their (adoptive) sister's homework.
"She said we're wittle terwors. Is dat bad?" asked one, with his ear pressed to the white-painted wall.
"Maybe. But you know Lillwy, lotsa the time she says stuff she doesn't mean." The twin booted a small, inflatable white ball at his brother.
The twin didn't need to move to avoid getting beaned by the ball, but he did anyways. "Waita minnit, she's talkin' 'gain." His ear went back up against the wall.
The two of them, Adrian and Neil, weren't ordinary three-year-olds. As Mirellah had said the first time she saw them, they looked "like they're from space or something." That was an exaggeration, but they did look a bit... unusual.
Their hair was two heads' worth of white, shoulder-length dreadlocks. Mrs. Connor had given up hope of ever brushing either twin's hair; she said it was "untamed, and it always will be, short of shaving it off."
The two of them always wore white clothes- trenchcoats, over dressy shirts, pants and even ties, as well as sunglasses. In short, they looked like little versions of the Twins from the Matrix Reloaded… which wasn't surprising, because they were.