Chapter Seven
(OMGosh, happy Thanksgiving to everyone who is reading this chapter on Thanksgiving Day! Be thankful for what you have right now and celebrate Thanksgiving to anyone who doesn't anybody to celebrate during Thanksgiving!
It's getting really cold where I'm from. If you're living in a state where it's really cold, my suggestion is wear a thick coat or jacket, drink a lot of hot chocolate, sit by your fireplace, and eat some warm stew or soup!
Well, here it is! The next chapter for this story!
Enjoy the story and life as it goes!
-imaginarytoon1
PS: Shout-Out to AnonymousZGirl: I really liked How Sleazy Met The Toon Patrol. Keep it up and take your time on the story!
PPS: Try out the Who Framed Roger Rabbit forum if you can!)
Beatrice:
"That little bilge rat! That rich frog-hating queen bee! I'll teach her a thing or two! May all of Angie's perfumes smell like skunks! I'll show that bratty tattletale a thing or two about messing with a Birchwood and her trees!" I exclaimed angrily.
On the road that I'm now walking on (it's kind of hard for me exclaim angrily and run at the same time), I already know that if I walked to Angie's house, it'll take me twenty minutes (seventeen minutes right now) and it'll take me ten minutes if I drove my truck. I also know better than to drive to Angie's house because the last time I did, her little brother dumped coffee in my gas tank and shot paintballs at my windows. "Despicable little bilge rats" was the only thought that came to my mind.
If you really want to know about 'The Noodle Incident', then, fine. I'll tell you but it's kind of a long story. This particular rivalry began when I was in kindergarten.
I was only enjoying myself in my music teacher's classroom…just playing on the piano when my mom came to pick me up. At the point where Mom and I were getting ready to leave the school, we heard someone exclaim that someone wasn't doing anything right.
I followed Mom to another room and we found Angie, 'Angelica' during her childhood times, and her mom, Mrs. Pikowski. Angie's mom was chastising Angie for not singing or playing the right key. I didn't want to get dragged in to Angie's lesson but thanks to my mom, she paid Mrs. Pikowski thirty-five dollars a day for Angie to learn from me, since I can play the piano exceptionally well for my age.
From the first to the last day of practice (the lesson lasted for two months), things did not work out between Angie and me. After the first day, Angie's mom began to think of Angie as a star. I thought otherwise because Angie stinks at singing and is constantly forgetting to play the right keys.
Mom didn't believe me when I told her that Mrs. Pikowski and Angie were not being very nice to me. I didn't tell Dad because I was afraid that he wasn't going to believe me either.
Two days before the last day, Mrs. Pikowski called the principal of my elementary school and announced that she was going to let Angie perform in front of the whole school. I knew that it was the perfect time to show Mrs. Pikowski's true colors and I decided to make two plans: Rebel and do something that'll make Mrs. Pikowski crack.
On the day of Angie's performance, the song that Angie had to sing was Scales and Arpeggios from The Aristo-Cats because Mrs. Pikowski wanted to spoil Angie by singing an easy song.
As soon as Angie was done singing the beginning of the song completely off-key, I quickly jumped in and began to sing the song. Angie immediately stopped singing and watched me with a frown. Every now and then, I would look at my parents and Mrs. Pikowski to see how they were doing. Mom and Dad had puzzled looks on their faces and Mrs. Pikowski gave me and Angie a confused but ANGRY look on her face, as if she was saying, "What's going on?"
When the song was about to end, Kaitlyn and Tommy joined me and played and sing the final parts of the song. Kaitlyn and I gave the song a big finish. After taking a couple of bows, Mrs. Pikowski finally snapped after Angie cried and whined like a baby.
Mrs. Pikowski stomped her feet and began to exclaim dumb things about me and two things about Kaitlyn. I stepped in front of Mrs. Pikowski's way when she was about to hit Kaitlyn. Although the slap was really painful, I still blocked Mrs. Pikowski's hand from hitting Kaitlyn and Tommy. I was slapped so much that my cheeks hurt whenever I would rub them gently.
Thankfully, Dad was there with his handcuffs and he arrested Mrs. Pikowski for public battery (SAT word for 'beating', not the rectangular or cylindrical object that you use in certain things) on a young child. After Dad led Mrs. Pikowski out of the school, Angie pushed me off the stage and I fell in a garbage can. Tommy and Kaitlyn helped me get out and I walked back on the stage in attempt to stop Angie. Unfortunately, that didn't work. Angie began to hit me again and in defense, I kicked her shins and I slapped her.
I walked off the stage and headed to the nearest exit with a black eye, bruises, and the smell of leftover lasagna. Mom looked at me with shock and I looked at her with an angry look on my face. I told her that I hope that she was proud of herself and then, I stormed out of the school.
Ever since that day, Angie and I never cooperated. Every time we would see each other at the same place, things don't really work out or go horribly wrong. Usually, it's Angie who would start the fight and I would be the one trying to stop her by trying to talk her out of it.
All right, I'm going back to the story.
After finally making it to Angie's house, I found that little bilge rat lying on a lawn chair with a teen magazine in one hand and her black cat, Charlie (Angie recently got the cat one year ago and Mom heard about the cat from Angie's daddy), sleeping underneath the chair. But instead of trying to talk Angie out of fighting, I'm going to tell that I've had enough with her and her torture and she's got to stop or else I'm going to have to drag my dad into this. I walked up to the picket fence and shouted,
"SEVENTEEN magazines are your bad influences, Missy! They tell you nothing but BIG LIES!"
Calmly, Angie put down the magazine and smiled evilly.
"Well, well, well, if it is Beatrice Birchwood. And look, Charlie, she has glasses. Ha, ha! My thoughts about you with glasses were true. You look like a dork." She said.
"Typical Angelica Pikowski." I said. "Always throwing insults at me. Two things that I want to tell you. One, I'm one of those millions of Americans who wear glasses and I'm pretty sure that you're too asinine to admit that you wear glasses, too. Second and last of all, you're in really, really, really BIG trouble for trespassing and burning a piece of my property."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! What piece of property?"
"Don't you dare act like you didn't do anything because I know that you coated my tree with nail polish remover and burned it! Don't you know that disturbing and walking on to someone's property without the owner's permission is illegal?"
Angie laughed and walked up to me.
"What makes you think that I burnt your tree?" She asked.
I angrily threw the bottle of nail polish remover at her feet.
"You're an amateur, Angie! Only a professional trespasser doesn't leave behind the evidence (I look at the back of the bottle) and this bottle has your name on the back." I said. "And how would you feel if I shaved all the fur off your cat or if I used a blowtorch on your favorite pairs of earrings?"
As Angie scoffed, I saw Psycho slipping through the picket fence, leaving him in a deflated state for a brief second. After inhaling a lot of air, Psycho came back to his original shape and looked up at Angie with confusion. Oh, I hope that he doesn't get himself hurt this time.
"'Shave the fur off my cat'?" Angie asked, mockingly without noticing Psycho (She's one of those people who can't see Toons.). "Don't be ridiculous!"
"You love that cat like she was your own daughter! But I'm not here to be ridiculed or fight." I said with a serious look on my face. "I'm here to tell you that I've had enough with you! You and your momma (another word from my country vocabulary has slipped out of my mouth) have been holding a grudge on me since kindergarten, when you pushed me in garbage can after your performance and when your momma had to stay in jail for two months!"
Psycho looked at me with shock.
"Poor Pretty Girly." Psycho said, sadly.
"Psycho, don't worry about me." I whispered without looking at Angie. Oh, I hope that she didn't notice.
"Who are you talking to?" Angie asked.
BISCUITS! I thought, mentally repeating an exclamation that one of my grandmothers used in anger or surprise.
"I wasn't talking to anybody!" I said, trying to change the subject. "But like I said before, Angie, if you don't stop torturing me, then you're going to get in a whole lot of trouble!"
"I can tell my mom on you, you frog-catching, spotlight-stealing pig!" Angie exclaimed.
Charlie hissed as if she agreed with Angie. Her hissing caught my attention and I saw Psycho making silly faces at that cat. Even though I said that Tommy and I are (probably) the only people who can see, hear, and talk to Toons, I'm going to guess that some pets can sense the presence of Toons. Curse me for knowing that after watching ghost-hunting shows!
"See, even Charlie agrees with me!" Angie said and raised her hand up.
"I'm not here to-" I began.
But Angie didn't let me finish. With her sharp but fake nails, she scratched my cheek. I draw back in pain and I felt four small drops of blood running down from the scratches. I rubbed off the blood with the back of my hand.
Then, I heard Charlie make a noise that indicates that means she's scared.
"CHARLIE! CHARLIE! COME BACK HERE!" Angie exclaimed.
I looked up and I saw Psycho chasing Charlie to Angie's backyard. Angie, still not seeing Psycho, chased after her dumb ol' cat. Without having other choice, I climbed over the fence and I chased after Angie, Psycho, and Charlie.
"Psycho, don't chase that cat! Let her be!" I exclaimed.
"I don't see anyone named Psycho!" Angie exclaimed.
Then, Psycho began to chase Charlie around in figure eights and Angie still doesn't see him. Psycho, I mean. Angie and I still followed Psycho and Charlie as they ran in figure eights. I was slowly feeling dizzy after running in the same direction.
After sixteen more figure eights, Charlie ran to a tree (that was at least ten to nineteen feet tall) and climbed up. She continued to climb until she looked like she wasn't in the tree. Psycho didn't shilly-shally around and he began to climb up the tree while Angie tried to call Charlie back down.
"Psycho, NO! NO!" I exclaimed.
I ran after him and after three tries, I pulled Psycho off the tree and I held on to him, even after falling backwards and landing flat on my back. Psycho wriggled around and he tried to squirm his way out of my grip but I refused to loosen my grip.
If you were Angie and if you saw me, you would look at me in thoroughgoing confusion. You would see me rolling around with an invisible weasel in a straitjacket trying to be released. I know that Angie will do something like that because for a brief second, I saw her giving me a combination of looks of anger and confusion.
"Stop messing around and help me get Charlie out of that tree!" Angie exclaimed.
"Can't you see that I'm busy?!" I exclaimed while still holding Psycho.
"YOU LAZY, NO-ACCOUNT PIG! Stop rolling around in the dirt and get my Charlie off that tree branch!"
"SHADDUP!" Psycho yelled at Angie, even though she can't hear or see him.
"OOOOOHHHH!" Angie exclaimed angrily.
She stomped back in to her house and slammed the door as soon as she got in. I still held on to Psycho and he tried to roll me off. Still, I held on.
"Psycho, get a grip! Calm down! Calm down, will you?!" I exclaimed.
Then, I heard the door of Angie's house open up and I saw Angie walk out angrily with a broomstick in her right hand. When she came to me, Angie swung the bottom of her broomstick up to left palm and gave me the mother of all angry looks. The look was so scary to me that it reminded me of Angie's mom after Dad led her out of the school.
"If you don't get back on your feet by the time I count to five, you'll get the broom!" Angie exclaimed.
"Angie, seriously! I'm really occupied at the moment! You go get that dumb ol' cat out of that tree and go on with your life!" I shouted angrily.
"ONE…TWO…THREE…Last chance, Beatrice!...FOUR…DON'T MAKE ME SAY 'FIVE'!"
"Go ahead and say 'five'! I'm not scared of YOU!"
"FIVE!"
Angie swung her broomstick back and I closed my eyes, waiting for the broom to hit me hard on my temple. Then, I heard a high-pitched yelp, and another yelp, and finally, a whimper and I felt Psycho roll out of my arms. He was loose and limp.
That's when I felt the rough, straw-like material from the broom hit the back of my head.
"You asked for it, Beatrice!" Angie exclaimed and she swung the broom again.
The bottom of the broom struck me on my back twice and before Angie was about hit me again the third time, I got rolled out of the way, jumped back on my feet, and ran. I jumped over Psycho, who was unconscious for a second, and he got up, sat on knees, and he bent down and Angie tripped. She nearly fell down face first but Angie continued to chase me around like she was Psycho and I was her stupid cat.
After I tripped, I quickly rolled over my back as soon as Angie caught up with me with the broom.
"I'll whack you so hard that I'll make your grandchildren dizzy!" Angie exclaimed angrily.
"Hit me with the broom or you'll get the doom." I said.
"Say 'good-bye' and leave with a black eye!"
Oh, she's asking for it.
As soon as Angie swung the bottom of the broom, I immediately jumped back on my feet and my left hand grabbed the broom as soon as it was about to hit my chest. That…was really cool.
I grabbed the other side of the broom with my right hand and Angie tries to make me fall down by pushing me really hard. Instead of falling down, I walked backwards towards a mud puddle that was a few feet away from the tree that Charlie was in.
"GO, PRETTY GIRLY, GO!" Psycho exclaimed.
When I was in between Psycho and the tree, I stopped walking backwards and stood firmly, as if my feet were glued to the ground. I took a deep breath in and I swung around with Angie still holding on to the broom.
After spinning around three times, I made Angie have her back towards the mud puddle and I pushed her like she pushed me. When I was a foot away from the puddle, I stopped walking and Angie tried to push me back again.
I spat in Angie's eyes and she exclaimed in disgust. Then, I kicked her in the abdomen and she released the broom. I threw the broom down and I pushed Angie really hard. She fell in the mud with a SPLAT.
"You just messed with the wrong person, Angie! You DO NOT mess with a Birchwood girl, her family, or her trees! If I see you or find out that you've been wandering around on my property again, I'll flip you like an omelet and I'll switch you good!" I exclaimed angrily.
I grabbed the broom and smacked down on my right knee. It breaks into two uneven halves. The bottom half was longer than the top. I threw the top half at Angie and it landed in the mud.
"C'mon, Psycho. Let's go." I said.
Trouble immediately began when everything was a part of an action film and one particular scene was in slow motion for few seconds and everything goes back in normal motion. I aimed my eyes at a mirror that was hanging on a drain on the edge of the roof. This is where the slow motion begins. Angie scooped up some mud and dirt and created a dripping mud ball. Like a catapult launching a rock, Angie throws the mud ball at me. I heard the WHOSSSSSSSSSSH sound as the mud ball was speeding towards me and I even heard the sound of my heart beating *DUN, DUN…DUN, DUN*. I spun around and I swung the bottom half of the broom like a baseball bat. Everything goes back in normal motion as soon as the mud ball hit the straw-like material of the broom. The mud ball flies back to Angie, going at the speed of a cream pie getting thrown by a baseball player, and it smacked her right on the face. I nailed that shot and I hope that Angie enjoys her mud mask.
I immediately threw the bottom half of the broom to the side and took off running. Psycho took off after me and we both jumped over the fence.
"C'mon, Psycho, don't stop running until I say so." I said as we ran. "Give yourself six minutes to run and we'll be all right."
"Okay, Pretty Girly." Psycho replied.