11-6-05
Killer Vegetables!
Disclaimer: I don't own Neal, Dom, or Duke Baird. They belong to Tamora Pierce.I did just randomly create Lady Catherine, Uncle Eddie, and Uncle Al, and the killer carrot.
"Neal, please just eat your vegetables!" Lady Catherine of Queenscove hissed across the table. Nine-year-old Neal looked up guiltily.
"But mother, they might come alive in my stomach and eat me from the inside out!" Neal declared stubbornly.
"Nealan of Queenscove, eat your vegetables NOW!" Lady Catherine was an inflexible woman and would deal with no nonsense from any of her offspring.
"Excuse me, Catherine, would you take a look at this note for a moment," Lord Edward of Masbolle (Uncle Eddie) interrupted, giving Neal the chance to dump his vegetables on the floor. Uncle Eddie looked up in time to see the vegetables slide from Neal's plate, winking subtly before returning to the conversation.
Once Lady Catherine's notice returned to Neal the vegetables were safely dropped to the floor and kicked beneath some relative's skirt/breeches. No incriminating evidence. With a curt nod of approval, Lady Catherine shifted her attention to an engaging dialogue between two of Neal's relatives over the earth.
"It's round," Duke Baird claimed.
"Nay, it's flat! Look at th' map!" Neal's Uncle Al, the family drunk, spluttered between tankards.
"That map has been modified to fit the paper. Look at the sun and the moon. They are round," Duke Baird insisted gently.
"Aye, their shape m'be round, but in't theys flat in depf- deth- depith," Uncle Al stumbled through the sentence.
"Perhaps it is because all you can see is one side of it," Duke Baird argued reasonably, "Like this conversation," he muttered.
"Wot's that ye says?" Uncle Al asked indignantly.
"Nothing," Duke Baird sighed.
All of the adults stood up, signaling that the children were permitted to leave. Neal fled the table as hastily as possible without being rude.
"Neal! Hey Neal! Wait up!" Dom called out, stopping Neal in the gardens.
"What?" Neal demanded, shifting about nervously.
"Calm down! You look like Aunt Beth's horse when it sees a squirrel," Dom stated bluntly. Neal shuddered once, then settled down.
"Neal, why don't you eat your vegetables?" Dom asked curiously.
"Like I said at the table; vegetables are dangerous!" Neal started what was
obviously a long-rehearsed and often-used speech. "You never know what they might be thinking! And-"
"Whoa, okay. I get your drift," Dom cut him off. "But how about I just show you that the vegetables can do you no harm?" Neal eyed him suspiciously. "Here, I'll eat a vegetable. If there's no hole in my stomach after one minute you have to eat a vegetable too. Deal?" They shook hands.
"Good. Let's do it now."
Neal and Dom walked back to the table, where a few adults were still talking, Duke Baird and Uncle Al among them.
"Round."
"Flat."
"Round."
"Flat."
"ROUND!"
"FLAT!"
"All right, which one do you want to try?" Dom asked Neal.
"Uh, what's that smallish orangeish thing?" Neal pointed.
Dom sighed, hiding his exasperation. "That's a carrot."
"Okay, I'll try that."
"Good." Dom picked up two carrots, placing one in front of Neal and holding the other up to his mouth. He chewed slowly. Once he swallowed it down he nodded towards Neal. "Okay, your turn."
Neal gulped. To him the carrot suddenly gained evil eyes and arms that intended on drilling their way through his stomach. "Do I have to?" he asked in a small voice.
"That was the deal. You don't want everyone to think you're a welcher, do you?" Dom taunted. It struck a chord with Neal.
"All right, I'll do it!" he proclaimed. Neal eyed the carrot distastefully, and then shoved it down his throat, pausing only to chew for a moment or two.
"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Dom asked positively. But Neal had other things on his mind at the moment besides admitting defeat.
"AHHHH! My stomach's growing a hole! The carrot's drilling its way through my stomach! I knew it, I knew it!" Neal sobbed. Dom gaped stupidly.
"Holy shit, holy shit!" Dom cried out, looking for something to stop the spreading hole in Neal's stomach.
"Hey, that's where my doll went!" Neal's sister Sarah proclaimed, pulling it out of the gasses that were spilling from Neal's stomach.
"Why me? Why is it that the only time the vegetable is toxic, it has to be me?" Neal wailed. Duke Baird and Uncle Al were still continuing on with their discussion, blissfully unaware of their son/nephew's plight.
"The…Earth…Is…Round…" Duke Baird said slowly.
"NO, IT'S FL-" Uncle Al passed out from all the whiskey/beer/ale/liquor/alcohol he had consumed.
"I suppose this means you agree with me now. I accept your defeat and apology with graciousness." Duke Baird nearly crowed over Uncle Al's unconscious form while his son was projectile, er, spewing across the hall.
It was a typical night in the Queenscove household.