Post by Uni on Jan 28, 2007 21:31:40 GMT -5
Enough was enough.
This was the last time they got blown off. It wasn't as though he really had any other friend, right? Curls sat on the fan, her head in her hands.
"Where is he? We agree that three would be the time! He always finishes his homework by three!" She blew a curl of her pink hair out of her face, looking moody. It wasn't as if she was completely enraged, but she did have a schedule to keep. Froufrou whined in agreement, before yapping hysterically until Puggle made a threatening gesture with his cane.
"Eh shut it. He's 'obably just a little," He stucked on his false teeth, "'ate. Can't blem him eh? He's 'ot a lot 'o work for a little whipper snapper." He tried to straighten up, and bumped his head on the ceiling. "Och."
Curls sighed, and rolled bright blue eyes at Puggle.
"Do you really think so?" She asked him, "This is the second time this week, and the sixth time this month!"
"Oh, Ah know so!" he said loftily, "Weel, back in mah day..."
Froufrou whimpered knowing that a longwinded story that was completely made up would come flowing from Puggle's mouth. Liffle, from his spot next to Curls, lept onto Puggle's head, and began to knaw on his ear. "Liffle! Bad dog! Oh..."
Puggle didn't seem to notice. "An' if we didn' finish ou' home'ork we'd get a right thrashin'."
It was the opportune moment for Roger to enter. Sulking, and looking extremely peeved, he floated on a cloud of gray-purple-green, hovering about three feet off the floor. Anger, soemthing foreign to the one who calmly broke plates for no reason, echoed in his words as he proclaimed, "I am OFFICIALLY fed up with being a scapegoat for John."
Curls looked confused. "But isn't he doing homework...?"
The little imp snorted. "Hardly. Unless you call purposely dropping his mom's china on the floor and blaming me homework. Not that I like that china, I don't 'do' pink and flowers." Ignoring Puggle, Curls lept from the fan to his beard, and slid down it to the floor. "What?! Again! I though he'd seen the error of his ways!" Curls tended to use phrases like that... "I rather liked that china..."
Pink was so Curls' color. Liffle's bark, and Curls fell forward. Turning around, she growled at the small dalmation.
"Don't doooooo that. You know it scares me."
Roger could only watch, his eye twitching, and sulking. Could she see that he was the victem for getting blamed, not the china for getting smashed? Puggle was still going on about when he was young (if ever), Froufrou was barking her mouth off at Liffle, and he was getting a headache.
Curls sighed, and closed her eyes, placing a small hand against her forehead. "What are we going to do? He blamed you Roger? Last time it was Froufrou, and she was just sitting there watching him! You know he has trouble understanding her! She was telling him to stop." She began to mutter. "Does he have any friend?"
There was another crash, and a sharp female voice cut across Curls' small, rather timid and exaperated one. "What do you think you doing young man!?"
Froufrou yipped in fear at the sound of the lady, while Roger sighed. "Usually people who threaten those around them don't make any friends...just aquiantances like them..."
Curls looked forlorn. "Poor thing. Why doesn't he play with us more? We're here to help him..."
Liffles barked again, and then whinned.
"He's right, we need to figure this out!"
Snoring from above told them that Puggles had fallen asleep. And none of them could see how the old man could sleep standing up, but....
"I doubt there's really much we can do," said Roger grimly. Not that he really cared. John had become sush a brat...and had no clue how to manage imaginary friends anymore. Only a more sinister idea occured, as most ideas of his were, but it was different.... "We could...eliminate...him. And move on to someone else."
"What?! BUT... But it's John! How can you say something like that Roger?"
He just shrugged.
"Pufft, wha? Guffls..." Puggles had woken up.
"I mean, we could be someone else's imaginary friends, couldn't we?" continued Roger. "Just as long as John's...alive we can't..."
"But... He's our creator! We can't kill him!" She looked scared. "Oh, don't Roger. Don't continue."
Roger pouted. "C'mon, Curls. I know you don't like being forced to wrestle with Puggle..."
If you compared Curls and Puggle, you came up with a signifigent size difference. Ome that John had apparently missed, or knew of and didn't care.
This was the last time they got blown off. It wasn't as though he really had any other friend, right? Curls sat on the fan, her head in her hands.
"Where is he? We agree that three would be the time! He always finishes his homework by three!" She blew a curl of her pink hair out of her face, looking moody. It wasn't as if she was completely enraged, but she did have a schedule to keep. Froufrou whined in agreement, before yapping hysterically until Puggle made a threatening gesture with his cane.
"Eh shut it. He's 'obably just a little," He stucked on his false teeth, "'ate. Can't blem him eh? He's 'ot a lot 'o work for a little whipper snapper." He tried to straighten up, and bumped his head on the ceiling. "Och."
Curls sighed, and rolled bright blue eyes at Puggle.
"Do you really think so?" She asked him, "This is the second time this week, and the sixth time this month!"
"Oh, Ah know so!" he said loftily, "Weel, back in mah day..."
Froufrou whimpered knowing that a longwinded story that was completely made up would come flowing from Puggle's mouth. Liffle, from his spot next to Curls, lept onto Puggle's head, and began to knaw on his ear. "Liffle! Bad dog! Oh..."
Puggle didn't seem to notice. "An' if we didn' finish ou' home'ork we'd get a right thrashin'."
It was the opportune moment for Roger to enter. Sulking, and looking extremely peeved, he floated on a cloud of gray-purple-green, hovering about three feet off the floor. Anger, soemthing foreign to the one who calmly broke plates for no reason, echoed in his words as he proclaimed, "I am OFFICIALLY fed up with being a scapegoat for John."
Curls looked confused. "But isn't he doing homework...?"
The little imp snorted. "Hardly. Unless you call purposely dropping his mom's china on the floor and blaming me homework. Not that I like that china, I don't 'do' pink and flowers." Ignoring Puggle, Curls lept from the fan to his beard, and slid down it to the floor. "What?! Again! I though he'd seen the error of his ways!" Curls tended to use phrases like that... "I rather liked that china..."
Pink was so Curls' color. Liffle's bark, and Curls fell forward. Turning around, she growled at the small dalmation.
"Don't doooooo that. You know it scares me."
Roger could only watch, his eye twitching, and sulking. Could she see that he was the victem for getting blamed, not the china for getting smashed? Puggle was still going on about when he was young (if ever), Froufrou was barking her mouth off at Liffle, and he was getting a headache.
Curls sighed, and closed her eyes, placing a small hand against her forehead. "What are we going to do? He blamed you Roger? Last time it was Froufrou, and she was just sitting there watching him! You know he has trouble understanding her! She was telling him to stop." She began to mutter. "Does he have any friend?"
There was another crash, and a sharp female voice cut across Curls' small, rather timid and exaperated one. "What do you think you doing young man!?"
Froufrou yipped in fear at the sound of the lady, while Roger sighed. "Usually people who threaten those around them don't make any friends...just aquiantances like them..."
Curls looked forlorn. "Poor thing. Why doesn't he play with us more? We're here to help him..."
Liffles barked again, and then whinned.
"He's right, we need to figure this out!"
Snoring from above told them that Puggles had fallen asleep. And none of them could see how the old man could sleep standing up, but....
"I doubt there's really much we can do," said Roger grimly. Not that he really cared. John had become sush a brat...and had no clue how to manage imaginary friends anymore. Only a more sinister idea occured, as most ideas of his were, but it was different.... "We could...eliminate...him. And move on to someone else."
"What?! BUT... But it's John! How can you say something like that Roger?"
He just shrugged.
"Pufft, wha? Guffls..." Puggles had woken up.
"I mean, we could be someone else's imaginary friends, couldn't we?" continued Roger. "Just as long as John's...alive we can't..."
"But... He's our creator! We can't kill him!" She looked scared. "Oh, don't Roger. Don't continue."
Roger pouted. "C'mon, Curls. I know you don't like being forced to wrestle with Puggle..."
If you compared Curls and Puggle, you came up with a signifigent size difference. Ome that John had apparently missed, or knew of and didn't care.
