I would like to thank JoeysLoveSlave for this suggestion. Thank you for the idea- I hope I put justice to it. And sorry for not updating sooner.
Chapter 11: Taking A Break To Bring You All The Usual Stuff.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything 'cept Naomi. Do I have to keep saying this every single chapter?
On one side of a highly polished, yet obviously stew-ruined wooden table sat none other the best Doom Bikers Reporters- Say That You Love Me Valon, wearing instead of his usual goggles with his biker gear, a bright yellow snorkel. Next to him was the third best Doom Biker Reporter- Cry Me A River Rafeal. Along with his usual outfit, he had also donned a tie-died headband and a pair of murky green sunglasses. Plus one earring in the shape of a peace sign.
In their hands they held a few papers with nothing whatsoever on them, which every so often Say That You Love Me Valon ruffled in impatience. "We can get on with the report if the second best Doom Biker Reporter would show up..," he muttered, his voice muffled from the snorkel. "Young Girl Alister said he'd be here, right..?"
"That's what he said," Cry Me A River Rafeal answered, leaning even further back in his chair almost to the point of being practically parallel to the ground. "Ah... here comes Young Girl Alister now..."
Unfortunately for them, it was only the regular Alister that came through the door, carrying a large supply of duct tape and pixie stix. He hadn't even bothered to put on any eye liner or the yellow barrette that was only a small part of his Doom Biker Report uniform. "Don't call me that- I have other, more important business to take care of than to talk to a fake camcorder dressed up as a girl. And whoever put it in my fake contract that I had to dress up as a girl for these ridiculous occasions ought to be shot. With bird seed. Then a cannon."
Just Say You Love Me Valon gasped, dropping the papers on the table and placing his hands over either sides of the shoe box that was the 'camcorder.' "He didn't mean that, Suzy."
"Valon- you're talking to a shoe box," the redhead informed him, moving around the table. "And you're wearing a snorkel even though you hate them. Raffy- you look like a steroid abusing hippie that also enjoys getting his head cracked on the carpet floor. Now, I must be going."
Cry Me A River Rafeal shrugged the comment off, unlike his coworker who only tried to get out coherent curses around the snorkel. "What's this 'important' business?"
Alister kicked open the less used, but still serviceable door to the living room, struggling to keep all of his items in his arms. "I am NOT missing anymore episodes of my show. So go conduct your 'shows' with that 'girl' Valon likes. Have her dress up to be a guy if ya really want."
"This one is important."
"Raffy... the last one you said was important included having to learn how to knit and talking to turtles to find out the meaning of life," the redhead dropped everything on the ground in the more sane room. "Plus, you passed out halfway into the 'show' from the fumes coming from Valon's shoes. In case neither of you can remember that, it was also the day that Dartz finally forced the Aussie to actually WASH his shoes. It was either that or he'd be sleeping in a dog house out on Fifth Avenue."
Just Say You Love Me Valon shuddered. Fifth Avenue was the worst street in the entire world in EVERY city- every time he went there, some dog ended up chasing him, thinking he was a cute dog chick and Mai usually tried to dump him... not that she'd be going out with him in the first place...
"See- he remembers. Now... I'm going to tape myself to the television set so I won't miss my show. Good day- enjoy talking to Suzy the Shoe Box." And with that, Alister shut the door, leaving one still very relaxed Cry Me A River Rafeal and another, shuddering Just Say That You Love Me Valon.
The latter quickly shook the feeling off, picking his papers back up again. "Let's get this over with... And now, Ladies and Gentlemen-! You're show, We Don't Know Why We're Doing This Because We Never Found Out Who Put It In Our Contracts, is back on after a two week break! Your host, Just Say That You Love Me Valon, and co-anchor, Cry Me A River Rafeal! Our story today- We Will Finally Break A Stupid Pattern Of Being Forced Into Stupid Things Because Our Boss Is Crazy And Has The Mysterious Contract Writer Put Stupid Stuff Into Our Contracts!"
Cry Me A River Rafeal nodded in agreement. "Right on, man... Today we're taking a short break from the 'plot'. We'll be trying to drive our boss- Dead Skunk In The Middle Of The Road Dartz- crazy. Than, we're going to find that Mysterious Person who likes to put strange things into our contracts that DON'T EXIST. So once we find him, her, it, we will tell them off in a 'peaceful' way, then enjoy a good time of riding horses and giving Protest Speeches in the Fake Park. Also known as Fifth Avenue, where Just Say That You Love Me Valon will probably faint in his twenty eight mile dash from that gender confused Jack Russell Terrier and after nearly being dumped by the Fourth Best Dressed Doom Biker Reporter who is also rarely talked about in two out of the three circles, Janie's Got A Gun Mai Valentine. Ironically, she is also the only one who has a last name."
"Which I find to be a beautiful last name..," Just Say That You Love Me Valon smiled dreamily, eyes temporarily glazing over. "Anyways... Today we shall put first tacks and then rubber cement on our boss's chair. Then, we shall set a squirrel upon him and-"
"No, no, no... We had to drop that, remember? Squirrels are pets, not pests?"
"That's pests, not pets. Anyways... you're right. So instead of that, we shall drain ALLLLLL computer printer's cartridges dry and then refuse to get off the internet. Whereas, we shall finally demand to know who writes our fake contracts. Hopefully, he won't find a shot gun of his own or try to shot us with a lightening bolt thingy..."
Cry Me A River Rafeal nodded again. "And that will be our show, Ladies and Gentlemen. And Gentlemen- so sorry that Young Girl Alister couldn't be here today, but he had to tape himself to a television set in a futile attempt to not miss his show, as one other part of our plot is to keep all TV sets busy when Dead Skunk In The Middle Of The Road Dartz decides to give up on getting onto the internet. So... Uh... yeah... Well, man- enjoy the show! AND PEACE OUT!"
"Okay, that's a wrap," Valon whipped off the snorkel, happily becoming his less ridiculous self. Why wouldn't Alister like doing this? This is the one time where they can let their immaturity have fun! "Shall we unwrap Alister from the TV now... or later..?"
Rafeal discarded his Reporter accessories as well, glad to be rid of them. He had missed the seventies by a good ten years and he sure didn't want that changed any time soon. "Later. It'll hurt him more after he put more layers of tape on. Let's go accomplish Phase One in the mean time, though."
Valon tossed the snorkel into the corner- its usual place- and picked up a large cardboard box from under the table. "Right behind ya, Raffy."
On the other side of the wall, the redhead contemplated the how's of his plan. Such as: how was he going to tape himself to the TV set under the influence of sugar? And how was he going to get more when he ran out..?
He heard a hollow thunk! as Valon tossed the yellow snorkel into the corner and than the other door to that room open and close. For once they didn't need his help in their stupid ideas for the day. Good riddance and one hopes that Jack Russell chases good ol' Vally around for FORTY miles. HA!
Alister picked up one of the many rolls of duct-tape, weighing it carefully. Hmm... how was he going to get it around the back of the TV set..? Hmm... this problem required another pixie stix... or two... So thinking, he grabbed the nearest open bag, taking one of the nonalcoholic, non nicotine, non-drug-anything-that-the-government-would-consider-'bad', life saving sugar packets.
Hmm... yes... there were a few problems to this plan... Like how badly it would hurt if he had to take the tape out of his hair..?
"Look- could you maybe help me with this..? It isn't exactly as light as it appears to be," Valon grunted out. What had first seemed to him to be a rather lightweight box had become what felt like a million pounds over a period of close to fifteen minutes. Or maybe five. It sure felt more like fifteen. "Raffy?"
Rafeal shrugged, easily taking the box out of the brunette's arms. "You big baby," He muttered, continuing forward towards their destination. "Now... where has our target gone to..? He couldn't have gone far from the coffee machine yet... it's not even nine thirty and there's no way he could be thinking of dealing with us without a sufficient dose of coffee..."
"How much caffeine is considered sufficient?"
"At least twenty cups. Sometimes more depending on how long we're here for the day or what happened the day before."
"The record?"
"Forty two cups in one time slot."
"And when are we going to try and break it?"
"Today."
"Good," Valon nodded to himself, moving ahead of Rafeal to check around the corner himself. "I wonder if we can make him look like a lemming in that old computer game... Ya know- when they explode, they shake like crazy, smoke coming out of their ears and then they just... explode..."
Rafeal shifted the box from one arm to the other. Although he'd rather not admit it- this was heavier than it looked... "C'mon, let's get phase one over with." He moved recklessly into the room- if Dartz didn't know they were there now, then he was beyond blind and deaf- placing the box down next to their boss's favorite chair. "Here's the tacks and the rubber cement... which should we put on first?"
"Tacks. Duh," the brunette replied, taking the rather large box of pointy metal out of the other's hand. "Before the group meeting we'll rubber cement his chair- or we can rubber cement the tacks to the chair."
"Hmm... that's a tempting thought..."
"Yeah- he'd get stuck to the chair and the tacks!"
"Hmm... okay, we'll do that."
It took them an astonishing five seconds to first rubber cement the chair- pouring a gigantic metal container that was close to two gallons- and placing/throwing/dumping the tacks onto the chair. Hopefully Dartz wouldn't notice... and that there was enough ends pointing upwards.
Valon wiped off to get rid of some of the rubber cement, only to spread it further. Hmm... this wasn't part of the plans. "Okay, so now that that is down, should we go to Phase Two or see if he's near the coffee machine still?"
"Let's go see how he's doing," Rafeal decided, lifting the lighter box back up. "Maybe we can catch him talking to it again..."
"So he really does talk to it? That's not just a rumor?"
"Nope, it's true. Usually it happens after the third cup. After the fifth he stops 'cause he's jumping up and down to much to be able to talk properly."
"Is that when he's 'speaking a different language?'"
"Yep."
The sunlight streamed through the window brightly, glinting off the newly washed linoleum floor. The pleasant sunlight rays mocked him terribly. Yes, he was locked in this prison, but not from an actual lock. No... by water... and soap...
Weevil glared down at the linoleum floor, his hand gripping the handle of the bucket so tightly that if it had a voice- it would have been screaming for mercy. Or at least for the teen to take a chill pill, it IS just a bit of water.
This was insulting. How could he have been so stupid as to wash himself into a corner ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE ROOM FROM THE DOOR! Of course, he could just walk across it... but not after having to wash the floors of the entire building ALL OF LAST NIGHT. Why couldn't the idiots in this building learn NOT to walk across WET floors? No... it would be too HARD for their tiny MINDS to think of that...
So. To prove his point and teach them all a lesson, he was going to be patient and show them how NOT to walk across FRESH, CLEAN floors. Especially when he'd have to wash them all over again.
Weevil tapped his foot in such a way that some would call impatient, waiting for the sun to dry the floor off. Then he was going to get a large latte at the nearest Dunkin' Donuts- or even the watered down coffee beans down in the 'coffee room/break room/ leave-Dartz-alone-he-needs-his-caffeine room'- and sit down with the latest insect book he had and read the rest of the day away about the beautiful praying mantis...
"Now, Leviathan," Dartz swished his coffee mug back and forth in his hand. In front of him was the large serpent he knew to be Leviathan from ten thousand years ago, instead of the coffee machine that Rafeal and Valon knew it to be from two hours ago. "These two idiots are supposed to be getting you more scrumptious souls... but THEY INSIST ON TORTURING ME WITH THESE STUPID RIDDLES INSTEAD!" A stream of high-pitched giggles erupted from him, making the other two wince.
The coffee machine burbled once and the red light came back on.
"Oh, Leviathan, you are so right. I should just duel them and take their souls instead, but there's little choice in other employees... except for the Pharaoh, but having him as an employee would just be wrong."
Rafeal and Valon exchanged looks. "Hey, Dartz," Valon started, settling further back into his chair, "why did the chicken cross the road?"
"And why was the broom late?" Rafeal added, repeating the one joke he knew again. Not that Dartz cared- he had heard that joke a million times during these last two hours and hadn't said anything about it yet.
"See, Leviathan! They don't even ask GOOD riddles... just stupid ones..." Unexpectedly, he almost went into a crying frenzy, but the hiccups got into the way and became a hiccuping frenzy instead. "Once you come back, I'm gonna teach you some good riddles... like, 'What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, and three in the evening?'"
"Man!" Valon cried out, draining his cup of lukewarm coffee in one gulp. He winced at the bitter taste again, and resolved to actually change the filter once in a while.
Dartz glared at him and then turned back to the coffee machine. "I hate them," he growled out. "Promise me you'll bite off their heads, Leviathan. I need you to promise me that!"
The coffee machine burbled again, the red light fading out as the heater went on the fritz.
"THANK YOU LEVIATHAN!"Rrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiippppppp!
Alister carefully applied the newly ripped- check out the word overhead- piece of duct-tape over his ear to the television set. It hadn't been easy to do, but he had managed to find a way to tape his head to the screen. All it had taken was determination, duct-tape... and a whoooole lot of Pixie Stix.
Now, though, he was almost done. The last thing he needed was another Pixie Stix. Then, he'd turn on the TV and NEVER MISS ANOTHER SAILOR MOON EPISODE AGAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIINNNNNN!
"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Did you hear that, Raffy?"
"I wish I hadn't."
Valon paused a minute in his internet surfing, head cocked to one side. He could've sworn he heard someone laughing in a high-pitched way... kinda've like Dartz did after the thirtieth cup. Shortly after the next he realized they were there- and listening in on his suddenly private conversation that he had started to shout out loud- and told them both where to get off. Separately.
Rafeal, meanwhile, wasted no time and clicked the 'print' button. The printer began to print out another picture of a beautifully painted Orange County Choppers motorcycle, next to at least twelve others. Once he got done with printing out these babies, then he planned to look for pictures of squirrels. Then he could share them with Fluffy and show him that the world of squirrels was much bigger than the acorn tree.
"Well... I guess it doesn't matter," the brunette finally said. His eyes went back to scanning the computer screen, looking for just the perfect picture... "Do you think Mai would prefer a picture of a jungle cat... or a domestic cat..?"
"What kind of message are you trying to give her?"
"Uh..."
The blond looked over at him briefly and then back to the screen. "A jungle cat on a motorcycle."
"Why a motorbike?"
"Motorcycles are cool."
"Yeah... but..."
"Trust me: jungle cat- preferably with a leather jacket on it- on or near a motorcycle. Oh, and the jungle cat should be a jaguar or a panther, and the motorcycle should match it. Got that?"
Valon nodded. "What about a domestic cat with a leather jacket on- with studs, even- on a motorcycle that matches its fluffy white fur?"
The blond considered for a second. "Print it out- at least it will drain the cartridge some more."
"Okay. But what does that picture say to a girl?"
"Valon- you're the one who's supposed to know more about girls. You're talking to the sociopath here. You called me that yourself."
"No... that was Alister. In reply, you called him an anorexic girly-man. With the perfect Shwarzinagger accent."
"Then you started to laugh... and he called you a backwards earthworm intent on finding one thing- a mate."
Valon nodded in agreement, remembering the event all too clearly. "Yeah, and then Mai heard that and threatened to claw his eyes out. And also called him a cross-dressing, gender confused- and confusing to other people- orthodontist. What she has against orthodontics I will never know... unless if the subject is raised on one of our soon-to-be dates... And I don't understand the 'backwards' part... I sure don't feel backwards..."
"It's just one of your gifts."
"I guess..."
The door opened, and he could hear footsteps enter. He wished he was able to twist around to see who it was, but the duct tape prevented that. Instead, he listened closely to the voice. "What," it asked with a sharp tone, "are you doing?"
Alister blinked a few times. He should have figured that the newcomer would ask that. Fortunately, it wasn't Dartz or Mai... thank goodness. "I'm not going to miss another episode of my show again," he answered. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Like you're attempting a Hundini escape."
The redhead muttered a curse under his breath, wishing he could shoot one of his death glares at Naomi. Unable to do so, he merely asked, "What do you want?"
Naomi moved around him so they could literally see eye-to-eye, not bothering to hide the smile on her face. He realized that the more and more he saw her, the more and more she seemed to have that look on her face. "Just wanted to know whether you wanted to eat lunch with everybody else... or should a plate be brought out to you."
"That depends- what is it and who made it?"
"Mac-'n'-Cheese and I did."
"No thanks... I'm... not hungry..."
Naomi shrugged and walked back towards the door again. "That's exactly what Raffy and Vally said, too. Honestly- I'm not that bad of cook!" She slammed the door angrily behind her, making Alister wince a bit. One side effect never really mentioned about going on a pixie stix induced sugar rush was the headache that came with it as it slowly- very slowly- left.
"Ugh... I ha'e caffiene-indu'e' 'eada'hes..," the Atlantean moaned into the table, since his head was currently buried in his arms. The words came to his two employees' ears muffled, sounding more like 'uff... I haf cuffene anduu hadak..' The coffee binge had ended shortly after the printer's cartridges had died completely.
Valon and Rafeal exchanged mischievous glances. The rest of the computer paper they had colored in green and red with markers and cut them up into shapes of squirrels and bunnies after a good-natured, completely gore-free wrestling match. After that, the two had taped the miniature mammals onto the walls of the entire building with scotch-tape. Not as good as duct-tape, but Alister had managed to snatch all the available rolls.
"Hey, sir," Valon started, leaning forward onto Dartz's desk, "remember when you first hired me all those loooooong years back..? About... six, seven years?"
"You've been stuck here for that long?" Rafeal asked, shocked. "How did you manage to survive?"
"You don't want to know..."
Dartz moaned, obviously not liking the loud noises hitting his brain and bouncing out again. Slowly, he lifted his head up, pushing his long silver bangs out of his cloudy vision. "Wha' 'bout it?"
"Who wrote the contract? I'm just wondering, 'cause I've never ran into the bloke an' I'd really like to ask a few questions."
"..wha' contra't.?"
"The one all employees sign and all that..?"
Dartz blinked slowly. "The'e wasn't no contra't... so wha' in Atlan'a 'r' 'ou tal'ing 'bout?"
Rafeal nudged Valon in the side, gaining the brunette's attention. "I didn't know you could get drunk from drinking too much coffee," he whispered. "In fact... I think the next time you and Alister choose to drink, drink the coffee."
"Coffee tastes like chalk," the brunette whispered back. "Besides, I tried once an' all it gave me was a caffeine high. And I couldn't get the taste of chalk out of my mouth for two weeks."
"Hmm... well, then I guess it only works on Dartz then..."
"Wha' on'y wor's on me?"
"Nothing," Valon replied quickly, shooting a glare at the blond. "But wasn't there a contract about salary and all that stuff?"
Dartz buried his head again, ignoring the question. "I nee' A'vil..." he muttered, the words further impeded by his hair and arms. "Ra'eal- go ge' some a'vil... pwease..."
"Yes, sir," Rafeal sighed, getting up from his chair. This stunk- now he wouldn't get to see the torture commencing... and all because out of the four of them, he was the only one without a record of speeding or, strangely enough, an inability to parallel park.
Valon waved the blond off, making a mental noncommitable promise to not start torturing the contract-writer before he got back. "Now, Dartzy... there SHOULD be a contract for each of us SOMEWHERE. How else do you keep files?"
"Fi'es? Wha're they..?"
"Bits of paper saying we- Mai, Raffy, Ally, even Naomi, and myself- were under your employment during such and such a time... and what we did wrong/good/whatever, all of that sort of stuff."
"Nao'i wouldn' 'ave one o' those... 'ou 'ouldn' 'ant to 'eep a re'ord o' 'er work..."
Valon blinked, his mind still trying to unravel the last bit of syllables. "..What.?"
"W'eres the a'vil?"
The door opened again and Rafeal stepped inside, placing the bottle of advil next to Dartz's elbow. Valon glanced up at him, saying, "That was fast? Did you teleport down to the pharmacy an' back?"
Rafeal gave him a look as he settled back into his chair. "No. Naomi practically stuffed the bottle into my throat after shouting something. And don't ask where she went, I have no idea. She just stalked off."
"I didn't 'practically stuff' it down your throat," the girl growled from behind them. "I either did or didn't. Besides, you had your stinkin' helmet on already and couldn't hear my telling you that there already was a bottle of advil in the cupboard, if you had just taken a second to look."
"How did you get in here? Without us hearing you!"
"Don't question my powers. And if you three don't hurry up, your lunch is gonna get cold," Naomi growled over her shoulder as yet again, she walked out through the door, slamming it behind her. "AND DON'T THINK THAT THE MICROWAVE IS GONNA HELP- CAUSE I'M PLANNING ON FRYING IT!"
Valon and Rafeal exchanged glances. "How is she gonna fry a microwave? It's connected to the wall, ain't it?" the brunette asked.
"And when did we agree to eat lunch?" the blond replied back.
Dartz moaned into the table. "I 'anna a'vil..."
Mai glared over her perfectly safe, non poisoned sandwich, at the concoction that was being practically spilt into her lap. "That... doesn't look safe. Besides- shouldn't you be bugging Rafeal?"
The brunette fiend nudged the bowl closer towards her. "I followed the directions on the box, and I refuse to eat the whole thing myself- it's unhealthy to eat that much of pasta. Besides... that chicken could have salmonella bacteria in it. It wouldn't surprise me- we are 'living' with four males."
The blond pushed the bowl as far away from her as her arms could reach. "It would be unhealthy to eat anything an 'assassin' cooked. That's just something my mother taught me." She turned back to her book, figuring the conversation would be over with that.
No such luck. Naomi took the bowl and placed next to some others, but turned back to continue. "I didn't know you had a mom. Did she teach you to be such a bleep, too?"
Mai smiled, taking precious little time to reply, "Yep. Did yours teach you how, too?"
"Yep."
"Thought so. Go bug Rafeal, please- he rarely gets bugged. And before you ask, my plague happens to be that Aussie called 'Valon.' He is always trying to get me to go out on a date with him. Ugh..."
Naomi shrugged, leaning further back into her chair. "At least you're not stuck with a sociopath. Of course, it makes killing nameless people much more easier..."
"Huh-uh... Tell me," Mai snapped her book shut, knowing full well that- just like with Valon- there was no way to keep her mouth shut short of a muzzle, "how do you like killing people? Poison? Snapping their necks..? Sticking poisonous lizards in their boots?"
"Not everyone wears boots- and where did you get the idea with the lizards? I haven't thought of what to do with the six poisonous ones I have in my closet. But thanks to you, now I do."
The door opened, admitting their tall, staggering boss into the room. He stumbled towards the sink, nearly toppling over in the process. He slumped to the floor, curled up in a little ball and fell asleep. Mai and Naomi watched him for a minute and shook their heads. Poor guy.
"Now where were we?"
"Something about lizards."
"Ah... yes, that..."
What time is it..? Where the heck is the clock in this room..? And more importantly- WHERE IS THE REMOTE CONTROLLER! Or at least the buttons on the T.V.
Amid his mental rantings and wishes that he had thought of bringing the whole of his collection of pixie stix down with him, the door to the living room opened again and the foot steps of a very miffed Aussie pounded to him. Alister could tell that Valon was beyond annoyed due to the particularly loud stomps he made as he made his way to the couch and literally crashed.
Rafeal followed him, shuffling papers in his hands constantly. He crashed into the arm chair, though, as Valon had stretched out over the entire sofa. "At least we have these neat pictures from the internet," the blond muttered, skimming through the dozens of pictures they had printed out. "And you'd think the print cartridges would have more ink in them..."
Valon grunted, kicking his boots off onto the floor. The redhead winced and gagged as the stench overpowered all other senses. "But we still don't know who it is that wrote up our contracts- and I honestly want to know. I mean, Dartz once told me that it was in my contract to dress up as a maid and clean the dishes in the sink. It was humiliating!"
"Hmph- I'd personally would like to know who thought up the sum of our salaries. Hey, who's coughing?"
"I don't know... Do ya want a pixie stix?" He waved a new bag at the blond, one of the intoxicating sugar packets- or three- in his hand already.
Rafeal inwardly shuddered. Thanks to all of the other males in the building, he had learned three precious lessons- Don't drink more than ten mugs of coffee at a single sitting, Never get drunk while trying to pull off a prank, and DON'T EVER, NEVER EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER EAT PIXIE STIX IF YOU WISH TO KEEP YOUR BRAIN FROM EXPLODING. "No thanks," he replied. "You okay over there, Alister?"
"Ah, he's just faking it," Valon dismissed, throwing an already empty pixie stix towards the garbage can. "Oh, and Alister- thanks for the Pixie Stix. I found 'em in yer room."
"Cough... cough... stench... cough... bad..."
"Yeah- you ought ta air out yer room now and again, Ally."
Their conversation trailed off shortly after the Atlantean started snoring. Naomi sipped her newly poured mug of tea. "Maybe..," she started, placing the half-empty cup onto the table.
"What?"
"We should cut off his hair- it's too long in my opinion," the brunette finished. "Or at least we should spike it using some of your boyfriend's hair gel- he wouldn't mind, would he?"
Mai chuckled softly, envisioning the annoyed look on her 'boyfriend's' face when he realized his supply of hair gel had once again ran out. "Of course he would, but who cares? I'll go get the jar, you make sure Dartzy doesn't wake up."
Naomi nodded in agreement, keeping a close eye on the snoring form.
"Oh- and should we dye his hair too?" the blond paused in her retrieving mission to ask. "I've got Sparklin' Purple and Passion Pink in my room. Well?"
"Purrrrrrrfect."
"Please don't do that again."
Valon glanced at the rapidly emptying bag and groaned. Why him..? And only five sticks left, too... Whine. "Hey, Raffy," he started, choosing not to ask for more sugar high problems than he will probably have, "I'm bored... Raffy?"
The brunette twisted his head so he could see where Rafeal had been last. The blond was slumped in the chair, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. "Raffy... did you fall asleep on me! How could you! I'M SO BLEEPIN' BORED!" Valon checked on Alister, and groaned as he realized that even the redhead was asleep. Dang it.
Neither of them budged.
Valon rolled off onto the floor, ignoring the heavy thump he made as he landed. He found his boots and slipped them on. For the first time since forever, Alister budged- or breathed, actually. Either way, he still wasn't going anywhere for a while. With another 'hmph,' Valon stood up and walked over to Rafeal on the looping way out of the room. "I'm gonna go find our contract writer while you snooze. Have a nice time SLEEPIN'! Ahem..."
Rafeal muttered something and rolled over onto his side. Thoroughly disappointed, Valon left the room, slamming the door behind them. Unbeknownst to him, but neither of the two budged.
"You tied him to the chair? Nice thought," Mai approved, softly shutting the kitchen door behind her. She placed the hair gel and dye on the table, arranging them all in a neat, and orderly fashion. Meaning, in a fashion only discernible to her.
Naomi checked the notes to the rope for the fifth time. Nothing in the world was going to get Dartz out of this one- or help his blood circulation. "You're the hair expert here, so do we dye his hair first or spike it?"
"Ya know... He looks kinda funny with his hair out of the ponytail..."
"He looks like a bleepin' Barbie doll, now dye or spike?"
Still giggling, Mai picked up one of her dyes and threw it over towards Naomi. The brunette caught it smoothly and turned it over to look for directions. Mai opened the refrigerator and took out a half full jar of applesauce. "It's faster to use applesauce instead of water for this- don't give me that look, I mean it."
"So we're dousing his head in applesauce... and then dying and spiking it?" Naomi asked, her face starting to stretch into a smile. "Where's the camera when you need it..?"
"Probably stuck in Valon's room somewhere. Most likely in his closet."
"Hmph. Well let's get started before he wakes up," Naomi took off the top on the dye jar, placing it back onto the table. "And we're shaving his hair off if he wakes up before we're done, got it?"
"Got it."
Valon shuffled around for the umpteenth time around the second floor, mumbling to himself. He came to the staircase again, and immediately turned around to walk back down the hallway again. Wait. The staircase.
He turned around again, looking closer at the set of deceptively ordinary stairs. Too deceptive. Valon raced up the stairs, soon coming upon a door. Hmmm... a deceptively ordinary door at that... if it wasn't completely OUT OF THE ORDINARY! Ahem. A totally ordinary, unlocked door, at the top of a staircase.
Bingo.
Smiling evilly, the brunette opened the door and entered the room. He was going to bet everything that this was where the stinkin' guy stayed, laughing away while his victims had to practically do things meant only for suicidal stunt doubles... And he was going down... today.
"Bwahahahahaha... Now I have FOUND YOU!" His evil laugh was choked off as he realized who was also in the room with him, currently playing a game of Pac-man on the out-of-date Mac computer.
The one observing the game adjusted his glasses, sending rays of light cascading towards the aussie. Valon ducked, glad he wasn't wearing sunglasses. The bespectacled person snorted, and said, "For crying out loud, Rex, you can't run into the stinkin' ghosts! Are you crazy!"
The other one, who was holding the mouse, sent a glare the other teen's way. "Well I can't play this game with you insect brain shouting in my ear the entire time!"
Valon stumbled across the room towards them, taking only a mild interest in the game. "What.. what are you two doing up here!" he asked, drawing their attention easily. "And you're playing that game wrong, idiot."
Rex snorted and clicked again on the mouse. A ghost snagged the Pac-man for the umpteenth time and he snorted again, just for good measure. "Everyone's a critic. Well then, how DO you play this stinkin' game?"
"Better than you are, dimwit," Weevil replied. "And what are YOU doing up here? We were finishing up some errand Dartz sent us to do."
Valon blinked. "He sent you two up here to play Pac-man? Why the heck couldn't he have done that earlier!"
The door to the room opened again, and in stepped the strangest mohawk beheaded guy that ever lived. The three teens jaws dropped almost literally to the floor, even though the person looked rather... unhappy, in the least.
"Umm... s-sir? What h-happened to your... h-h-head?" stammered out Valon amid tangled up bits of laughter. "I-i-i-it l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-looks like a-"
"Valon, shut up right now. Mr. Underwood and Mr. Raptor- you may go now. YOU TOO, Valon," Dartz hissed, painfully aware that his redone hair hit the ceiling at times. "Tell Ms. Valentine and Ms. Ryuzaki that-"
"That they've outdone themselves? Will do." Ducking around his boss, laughter coming easily, Valon raced back down the staircase out onto the hallway below. From there he half stumbled, half walked down the hall. Rex and Weevil shut the program down, both trying to keep a straight face- which they quite obviously didn't do- and left after Valon.
Growling deep in his throat, the Atlantean slammed the door behind them. He went over to the computer and entered a password to get a file that was securely off limits to the entire work force. "Now where is Valon's... ah, there we go..." Smiling, Dartz added one last tiny bit to the file, saved it and closed out of it. "Now on to Rafeal... bwahahaha!"
Up high in the corner of the rather small room, a snake roughly the size of a tiny horse slithered further down onto the floor. It's forked tongue slivered in and out, it's dark eyes watching it's owner carefully. The snake moved its head to the side, almost blinking at the speed and furiousity that the Atlantean was typing at.
From that speed and maniacal laughter, it seemed that those idiots were in for a special treat tomorrow...
I'll leave that to your imagination. Oh, and Shirlanka-San, I personally love the Queen Mab speech from Romeo and Juliet. Did you have to read that for school this year too? I still loathe Romeo and Juliet with great intensity, but the play as a whole wasn't too bad. Anyways... Sorry about not updating any sooner. I kinda forgot to keep writing for a stretch of time, but I'll try not to let that happen again.
Anyways... THANK YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH FOR ALL OF THOSE REVIEWS, I LOOOOOVE THEM! You guys are so nice to me... sniff... sniff. I think I'm gonna cry... sniff... THANK YOU! Oh, and enjoy, as always.
