The third chapter. Dum dum dum dum. What can I say about it except that my mind has gone blank since the last chapter. I have had about four… million ideas for this chapter and I don't know which one to do. Well we'll just see how it turns out. All I can say is learn your French 'cause there's no translation. Yet. Or you can just use Google online translator.
Buttercup slowly left her cell unsure of what was outside. She scanned her surroundings and found that she was apparently in someone's bedroom. A fully decorated in red room. Red ceiling, red carpet, red racecar bed, black lamp stand.
"Someone has issues," she mumbled to herself, "I gotta get out of this room." She spotted the red door that obviously must be the exit. She strolled towards the egress, put her hand on the handle when she saw the doorknob begin to turn. Unluckily for our dear Buttercup, the door opens inwards and I need not explain what happens to someone when they are standing behind a door and it opens.
« Ooh, » a girl said, « Je suis désolé. » The girl extended an arm as if to help the fallen Buttercup of her rear end. Buttercup took it and was soon standing upright again. As if this entire story wasn't weird as it was, the French speaking girl looked exactly like Buttercup.
The girl's jet black hair was fashioned into two short pig-tails with a few loose strands falling in front her face. She wore an off-shoulder long-sleeved green dress with a frilled hem around the skirt. To complete the outfit a black belt was worn and on her feet were black laced-up boots. Let's call her Frenchie until we learn her real name.
"It's okay. You couldn't possibly see me from be-hind the … door," Buttercup faltered finally getting a good focused look at Frenchie.
« Butch vous connaît-il sont-ils ici ? » Frenchie questioned.
"Uh…no," Buttercup replied, still dumbfounded by her look alike. Frenchie's face suddenly looked aghast.
« Alerte d'intrus. Alerte d'intrus! Je dis encore. Alerte d'intrus! BUTCH! » Frenchie shouted out frantically.
"I'm guessing that this is bad," Buttercup nervously stated. Frenchie folded her arms and began impatiently tapping the floor. Buttercup noticed this and began to get frustrated, I mean who wouldn't.
"Would you stop the tapping!" Buttercup bellowed. Frenchie stopped. "Thank you."
Silence.
More Silence.
Even more silence.
Frenchie looked at the red devil clock on the wall. 1:30pm. A digital clock. Buttercup noticed this slight gesture and looked at Frenchie. Frenchie glared straight back at her and soon it was a staring contest.
Eye to eye. Glare to glare. Neither flinching, moving, smiling, frowning, tapping, clapping – you get the idea.
"Did someone call," a voice said. A rugged face appeared at the door. Frenchie blinked.
"Hah! I win," Buttercup shouted triumphantly, "This proves that I am the better one!"
All eyes fell on her, Buttercup – laughing manically at the inference that she was better.
« Quel est le problème avec elle? » the boy asked.
« Butch, » Frenchie replied, sighing exasperatingly, « Elle est folle. » She exaggeratingly gesticulated towards the direction in which Buttercup just happened to position herself at that precise moment. (In other words 'she wildly pointed at Buttercup')
Buttercup took this as the opportunity to pour out all her woes unto the poor unsuspecting French speaking kids. And in English too.
So talk Buttercup did. She talked about getting lost. She talked about hitting her head. She even talked about the pretty flowers she saw on the field trip (yeah right).
AN: Actually she did. She's quite mad, no.
Frenchie and Butch were getting utterly bored
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"Ooo," Bubbles noted, "Buttercup's not back yet!"
"I know," Blossom sighed sitting on the edge of the bathtub, almost overflowing with running water, "We can't keep covering for her forever. How many times can one person take a bath?"
"So why don't we just tell the Professor and then carry out a search with him?" Bubbles suggested.
"You know that's not a bad idea," Blossom agreed, "I knew that there was more than just air beneath the hair." Bubbles then began laughing uncontrollably.
"What's the matter Bubbles?" Blossom asked proceeding to go call the professor.
"It's funny," she managed to choke out, "You said air beneath the hair! It rhymes! Air, hair! Air, hair!"
"Let's go Bubbles," Blossom said shoving her out of the bathroom.
"But shouldn't you…" Bubbles began to see looking back at the still running tub of water behind her but Blossom cut her off by pushing her out and closing the door behind her.
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Buttercup was still having a wonderful time chatting away to two people who apparently have no clue as to what she is saying. But picture a foreign person talking to you in a foreign language that you cannot speak for quite a long time, wouldn't somebody get annoyed.
POW!
"Ow!" Buttercup screamed out rubbing her right cheek, "What did you do that for!"
"Just shut up!" Butch exclaimed clamping something unto her wrist. He then folded his arms a leaned against the door with a smug expression on his face leaving Buttercup to try and figure out what the device was for.
"Does it hurt?" Frenchie asked. Voila ! She speaks English. Guess that's what it does, no?
"Yes," Buttercup replied unsure of what to make of her predicament.
"Good," Frenchie replied and then kick her on her left cheek.
"Ow. Grrr," Buttercup yelled now getting really steamed; rubbing both cheeks vigorously, "Wait. You speak English?"
"No," Frenchie replied with a visible fake grin on her face, "You speak French?"
"How rude," Buttercup snootily said. Butch chuckled walking over to her.
"That's Rebelle," he introduced, "French for rebel."
"The name says it all," Buttercup muttered.
"Really," Butch replied sarcastically, "So does Buttercup mean that you're delicate and very pleasant smelling because I think that it's a misnomer?"
"Okay, smart guy," Buttercup spat out at Butch's ridiculously smug expression, "Answer me this: Where am I, why does she look like me and why are you taller than me?"
"Well" he replied, "You're in the heart of the forest in the Chrysanthemum Mansion and it's only because Brick is jealous of Rebelle that's why you're here. Technically, like how it was before, you're not supposed to know that this place even exists. But we can always brainwash you Rebelle snickers
"Rebelle and her sisters, Bulle, and Belle, are the French version of you and your sisters. The Powerpuff Girls here are Les Supers Nanas in France. And Rebelle is you. It's sad to say that France has absolutely no pattern when naming. I mean, B, B and then the R. Come on people have some decorum.
"And as for why I am taller. Well, it's because I am bigger and older than you'll ever be. So technically I was created in Townsville, Australia before you ever came to be. And so were Rebelle and her sisters. But because we have to be so top secret about everything we do, your Professor Utonium will get the credit for the original creation of the girls when actually it was Professor Leveruax who created them. Things like that make me so mad!"
"Calm down Butchy," Rebelle crooned, "Think thoughts of beaches and white sand and pineapple drinks with the umbrellas in them."
"I hate pineapples," was Butch's reply. Rebelle shrugged.
"Is she your girlfriend?" Buttercup asked.
"What do you think?" Rebelle answered rudely.
"What do I know? I am only five-years old," Buttercup answer innocently.
"Girl you have so much more to learn," Butch stated leading the two girls out the room.
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"Professor!" the Bubbles and Blossom called out, entering the lab.
"Yes girls," the Professor hurriedly answered, clearly being interrupted, "But be quick I am trying to discover a cure for genital herpes."
"Buttercup's lost in the woods 'cause she ran away," Bubbles explained.
"Buttercup's lost!" the Professor exclaimed dropping all his chemicals and concoctions, "Why didn't you tell me earlier? What a horrible, irresponsible father I am!"
"So are we going to find her?" Blossom questioned.
"Of course!" the Professor responded, "We can't leave her in the woods there alone. Powerpuff or no Powerpuff, she's still my baby."
"We're going to venture where no Powerpuff has gone before, bring back the fair Buttercup and all before bedtime. We rule!" Bubbles shouted.
"Please be quiet," Blossom bluntly requested.
I have decided that in the next chapter, I am going to interview one of the new characters of my story. If you've been following the trend of this story you will know who's supposed to enter next.
For those of you who are imaginatively disinclined, who think my descriptive writing sucks or just want to see how badly my computer drawing is, a picture of Rebelle is available in my profile.
