Sorry about the title of the chapter. And the content. But does it matter? Naa!

To my reviewers:

TrunkZy: I'm sorry to say that Upyure will not be appearing anymore. So no more strange Scottish talk, and no more translations! Oh, and if you send another review like this, I may be forced to block you out!

The Freaky Angel of Fire: Not so hard with the whip! Oh, and for some strange reason, your review didn't come up on the front page. Sorry!

Chapter 3. The Br (Calendar)

Fartemit approached the cashier. She turned to him, butted out the cigarette, and spoke.

"Alright, what d'ya want? You ain't holdin' anythink, zo you must want somethin', huh? You'll have to pay ze moi" He stuck out her hand. Her accent was sort of American, with a tinge of Russian, even less of British, a miniscule of French, and none at all of German (if any readers were offended by that, feel free to put your thoughts in). All in all, it was sort of everywhere.

Something about this girl made Fartemit want to wet his pants, but he didn't dare say that to Buttleg or Upyure, or they would have been laughing wrecks in moments. So, instead, he pulled himself up to full height, which was about 120cm, and spoke with what he hoped was a firm, demanding voice. The voice that came out, however, was neither.

"Excuse me, but....." started Fartemit.

"No! I ain't talkin', till I see the dough!" interrupted the girl. She was a tedious female, everybody knew. But Fartemit would not give up.

"Very well. Buttleg, my wallet" He stuck out his hand with out looking backwards. After a few minutes, he turned around, very much annoyed. The cashier was giggling. He had not been given his wallet.

He saw Buttleg on the floor, sucking on his thumb, crying quietly, with his knees up to his chest. He also realized, for the first time, that Buttleg was wearing practically nothing except for his underpants. This particular pair was especially ugly, with pink elephants with wings floating around in a random pattern. The colour of the underpants itself was bright yellow, and the stitching had become quite undone and frayed. You don't want to know anymore. Honestly.

And finally, he realized that he had his wallet in his own pocket, which would explain why Buttleg was pointing at Fartemit's back pocket. Fartemit muttered something inaudible to himself, and took out his wallet. It was a Quiksilver©, although on the front it said, 'Quicsiver'. And yet, Fartemit didn't realize it was fake. I doubt he ever will. Anyway, back to the story. From his wallet, he took out a brand new, recently printed £5 note, and handed it teasingly to the girl. With amazing speed, she grabbed it, and immediately started stroking it, whispering, "my precious". It reminded Fartemit of a certain retard called Sollum, from one of his Bored of the Rings series. He'd only just started reading the middle. Fartemit smiled. The book had been funny. And also, the swiftness and the lust for money this certain young cashier had matched all descriptions perfectly.

"Buttleg, pay Mr. Arse in full. We don't want him leaking anything about our meeting," said Fartemit, his eyes shining with greed. "and if you do leak our information, Mr. Arse, Buttleg will kick your hairy backside to hell." Again, Fartemit fell into uncontrollable laughter. Everybody stared at him. The kids who were stealing from the shop were mesmerised by the curling and the turning of the obscenely rich boy. All the cashiers were frozen, some still holding their items over the laser reader. This meant that the same food was lasered over and over again, making the customer pay around ten times more than they should.

Buttleg tapped his employer's shoulder with huge fingers, and whispered into his ears. Fartemit nodded with annoyance, and took out his own wallet. He handed Upyure another brand new US$100,000 bill. It was purple, with Fartemit's face printed on both sides. It was obviously fake, but Upyure took it anyway, because it had a number with more than two zeros on it. He skipped out of the market with the (fake) banknote firmly wedged between his fingers. Once outside, every pickpocket pounced onto him, trying to take the banknote.

Meanwhile, back in the supermarket, Fartemit decided to take another step forward. He went forward, tapped the cashier on the shoulder, and spoke quietly to her.

"Mademoiselle, now that I have your attention, I want you to give me something," he said, and the girl turned towards him, allowing him to carry on. "What I want is your br"

A shocked silence followed. The girl froze. She seemed to recognize what had been said. She put down the £5 note, and tensed herself.

She started slapping Fartemit with inhuman speed, screaming, "pervert!" and "eeew!" and "sicko!". Buttleg, who was supposed to be protecting him, had fallen asleep in the thick of the action. He was sleeping peacefully, sucking on his thumb, and curled up like a cat. He didn't even stir when the slapping started.

Fartemit tried to stop her. Pathetically. In between slaps, he would say, "No" slap "I didn't" slap "mean" slap "your" slap "undergarment!" thump She paused, unsure whether to carry on, and anyway, she had punched in the finale, and he was down on the ground, clutching both cheeks. Fartemit took this chance to speak.

"You're not a normal human, never mind a cashier! You're a sprite (although I'd prefer coke, thought Fartemit), le'shãg (how did he say that?)fairy, ka-splatun. Whatever language you prefer, and I'm asking for your br, your calendar. It has all your silly dates and customs, and I can learn your secrets, and cause a cross-species war!! Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Mwua-ha-ha-ha-ha!!" This maniacal laughing continued for quite a bit of time. When it finally died down, the cashier peered inside her own bra (the undergarment), and pulled out a 365-day bow calendar, shaped like you-know-what. Her chest immediately deflated. She handed it over to Fartemit, and said, "You paid moi a darn good fiver, so you can 'ave that if you want" she said, and walked away to the bathroom.

Fartemit looked at the calendar, stuffed it into his shirt, and stood up. He found Buttleg still sleeping on the floor, murmuring. He kicked him with all his strength, and his foot connected with Buttleg's solar plexus, making him yelp, and jump immediately. He saw Fartemit's irritated look, and bowed his head, trying to look sorry. It apparently pleased Fartemit, and together they walked out of the supermarket. They hadn't realized they had stepped over Upyure's still-squirming body, but they wouldn't have minded if they had. All the pickpockets were content for now, and the pair was safe. But they had to walk all the way to the airport, because their second MINI© had also been stolen. They made it just in time to see their aeroplane fly away. Now they were going to have to swim home. The evening air was filled with swearwords from both Fartemit and Buttleg, but the former was more experienced at swearing than the other.

If they had stayed a bit longer, they might have realized the same cashier come out of the bathroom. Her chest had become miraculously 'inflated' again. Guess what that means.

You know, if you said le' shág really quickly, it sounds like..... OK, I won't go on. But I will go on with the story, don't worry.