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Chapter or Story
List Provided By: RRP
Sibling Rivalry X
by: chopsticks
p g
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Miss Parker tapped her long, acrylic nails on her polished desk. The computer system was being excruciatingly slow today. Was it so much to ask that a simple search take less than two seconds? Really, technology was not all it was hyped up to be.
She perked up instantly when the search finished and the results appeared on her screen. She quickly scrolled through the short list, dismissing several ideas as completely irrelevant.
"Aha!" she shouted to the empty room, standing up so fast her chair went flying away from her, towards the plate-glass window behind her. Under normal circumstances, the glass would have placidly taken the minor beating. But not this time.
Miss Parker wheeled around in surprise when she heard the distinctive crack of glass breaking.
"Oh, sh-" she began, just as half of the window fell outwardly. It continued its descent down the building, this time avoiding the nearby-parked car. Instead, the glass landed squarely on top of a sweeper’s head. His partner’s distinctive swearing could be heard all the way in the heart of Blue Cove, causing people to look around in wonder in the town square.
Miss Parker stepped up to the window and, after barking a few choice words down at the sweeper, examined the partially intact glass. The first thing she noticed was that the glass had broken in a perfectly straight line. The second thing she noticed was that there was no caulk left in the frame to hold that portion of the glass in the flimsy frame, but it was still evident on the undamaged side. Now, she may not be a Pretender, but she knew damn well what this was.
"Sabotage," she breathed, her fury building. She whirled around and clicked the "print" button on her desktop. "Lyle is going to pay," she hissed as she snatched the paper out of the printer tray.
Just as she was about to swoop out the door and exact phase one of her revenge, a clanging in the ductwork caught her attention. Suddenly, an idea struck her that was too good to pass up.
"Angelo? Is that you?" she called out sweetly, approaching the grill covering the air vent. She crouched down and met the soft eyes of the resident empath.
"Daughter," his soft voice crooned and he quickly removed the grating.
"How are you?"
"Daughter. . .mission. . .Angelo. . .complete?" He looked up at her quizzically, not fully understanding the words he had just uttered.
"Yes, Angelo. I need you to do something for me. Post this outside of Lyle’s office, okay?" Miss Parker gently handed over the paper and a thumbtack. Angelo stared at her in bewilderment for a moment, then scurried away, entering back through the vents. Miss Parker replaced the grating and then went about finding a way to get her window fixed, preferably before Lyle’s.
Angelo continued his slow crawl through the vents, cautiously making his way to Mr. Lyle’s office. He didn’t understand why Miss Parker had him doing this, but he was going to do it all the same, simply because somewhere in his subconscious he wanted to stick it to Mr. Lyle. Really, really stick it to him.
Angelo dropped down in the hallway outside the office and looked at all the papers strewn about. He briefly wondered what had happened, then heard the breeze rustle the papers still left inside the room. He may have gotten electro-shock therapy that fried his brain, but he wasn’t stupid, so he instantly figured out what happened.
He reached up against the wall and carefully jammed the thumbtack through the wall, stepping back and shooting a lopsided grin at his handiwork. His sensitive ears heard footsteps coming, so he quickly scrambled back into the ductwork, pulling the grating closed behind him. He scampered off, not wanting to be around for the finale.
The footsteps stopped in the hallway outside the office. His nose twitched at all the papers strewn about and he huffed indignantly. He would make a mental note to clean it all up later. He glanced around the hallway, his eyes instantly drawn to the piece of paper on the wall.
Lyle let out a soft growl and reached out, tearing the paper off of the wall. He caught sight of movement in his peripheral vision, but whatever it was moved to quickly and scampered off around the corner, heading for the elevators.
Mr. Lyle let out a small sigh of gratitude. There wasn’t a soul that had seen this yet, otherwise a crowd would have gathered. He began to read the list, a look of pure evil taking over his handsome features.
The following are purportedly a sampling of Mr. Lyle’s real answers to the driving test after he was sentenced to retake Driver’s Ed. after his car blew up.
Do you yield when a blind pedestrian is crossing the road?
What for? He can't see my license plate.
Who has the right of way when four cars approach a four-way stop at the same time?
Me with my black car and a bumper sticker saying, "Guns don't kill people. I do."
What are the important safety tips to remember when backing your car?
Ignore all screams.
When driving through fog, what should you use?
Your car.
What problems would you face if you were arrested for drunk driving?
I'd probably lose my buzz a lot faster.
What changes would occur in your lifestyle if you could no longer drive lawfully?
I would be forced to drive unlawfully.
What are some points to remember when passing or being passed?
How to run them off the road once they’re halfway past, then see if I can get away with murder again.
What is the difference between a flashing red traffic light and a flashing yellow traffic light?
The color.
How do you deal with heavy traffic?
Road rage.
What can you do to help ease a heavy traffic problem?
Carry loaded weapons.
Mr. Lyle twitched violently. He wanted to know how Miss Parker had managed to find this. It was a complete outrage! He was going to make her pay dearly. Dearly, indeed.
He reached towards his office door, encountering a shard of broken glass instead. He blinked at the gash that now sliced across his palm and remembered that his office was unusable at the moment. If this continued, he’d have to displace someone to have a place to work.
He growled and spun on his heel, heading down the hallway to The Hole once again. But this time, something on the wall caught his eye. He stopped and stared at the piece of paper that hung there placidly, a single piece of tape holding it upright.
He blinked in slight surprise when he saw it was a copy of the list that was by his office door.
Oh, no, he thought, dread filling him. I bet there are copies of this throughout the whole building. She. Will. Die.
And with that final thought, he stalked off towards The Hole, hell bent on exacting the perfect revenge.
-----
the end.
feedback welcomed at spacedoutwriter@hotmail.com
by: chopsticks
p g
-----
Miss Parker tapped her long, acrylic nails on her polished desk. The computer system was being excruciatingly slow today. Was it so much to ask that a simple search take less than two seconds? Really, technology was not all it was hyped up to be.
She perked up instantly when the search finished and the results appeared on her screen. She quickly scrolled through the short list, dismissing several ideas as completely irrelevant.
"Aha!" she shouted to the empty room, standing up so fast her chair went flying away from her, towards the plate-glass window behind her. Under normal circumstances, the glass would have placidly taken the minor beating. But not this time.
Miss Parker wheeled around in surprise when she heard the distinctive crack of glass breaking.
"Oh, sh-" she began, just as half of the window fell outwardly. It continued its descent down the building, this time avoiding the nearby-parked car. Instead, the glass landed squarely on top of a sweeper’s head. His partner’s distinctive swearing could be heard all the way in the heart of Blue Cove, causing people to look around in wonder in the town square.
Miss Parker stepped up to the window and, after barking a few choice words down at the sweeper, examined the partially intact glass. The first thing she noticed was that the glass had broken in a perfectly straight line. The second thing she noticed was that there was no caulk left in the frame to hold that portion of the glass in the flimsy frame, but it was still evident on the undamaged side. Now, she may not be a Pretender, but she knew damn well what this was.
"Sabotage," she breathed, her fury building. She whirled around and clicked the "print" button on her desktop. "Lyle is going to pay," she hissed as she snatched the paper out of the printer tray.
Just as she was about to swoop out the door and exact phase one of her revenge, a clanging in the ductwork caught her attention. Suddenly, an idea struck her that was too good to pass up.
"Angelo? Is that you?" she called out sweetly, approaching the grill covering the air vent. She crouched down and met the soft eyes of the resident empath.
"Daughter," his soft voice crooned and he quickly removed the grating.
"How are you?"
"Daughter. . .mission. . .Angelo. . .complete?" He looked up at her quizzically, not fully understanding the words he had just uttered.
"Yes, Angelo. I need you to do something for me. Post this outside of Lyle’s office, okay?" Miss Parker gently handed over the paper and a thumbtack. Angelo stared at her in bewilderment for a moment, then scurried away, entering back through the vents. Miss Parker replaced the grating and then went about finding a way to get her window fixed, preferably before Lyle’s.
Angelo continued his slow crawl through the vents, cautiously making his way to Mr. Lyle’s office. He didn’t understand why Miss Parker had him doing this, but he was going to do it all the same, simply because somewhere in his subconscious he wanted to stick it to Mr. Lyle. Really, really stick it to him.
Angelo dropped down in the hallway outside the office and looked at all the papers strewn about. He briefly wondered what had happened, then heard the breeze rustle the papers still left inside the room. He may have gotten electro-shock therapy that fried his brain, but he wasn’t stupid, so he instantly figured out what happened.
He reached up against the wall and carefully jammed the thumbtack through the wall, stepping back and shooting a lopsided grin at his handiwork. His sensitive ears heard footsteps coming, so he quickly scrambled back into the ductwork, pulling the grating closed behind him. He scampered off, not wanting to be around for the finale.
The footsteps stopped in the hallway outside the office. His nose twitched at all the papers strewn about and he huffed indignantly. He would make a mental note to clean it all up later. He glanced around the hallway, his eyes instantly drawn to the piece of paper on the wall.
Lyle let out a soft growl and reached out, tearing the paper off of the wall. He caught sight of movement in his peripheral vision, but whatever it was moved to quickly and scampered off around the corner, heading for the elevators.
Mr. Lyle let out a small sigh of gratitude. There wasn’t a soul that had seen this yet, otherwise a crowd would have gathered. He began to read the list, a look of pure evil taking over his handsome features.
The following are purportedly a sampling of Mr. Lyle’s real answers to the driving test after he was sentenced to retake Driver’s Ed. after his car blew up.
Do you yield when a blind pedestrian is crossing the road?
What for? He can't see my license plate.
Who has the right of way when four cars approach a four-way stop at the same time?
Me with my black car and a bumper sticker saying, "Guns don't kill people. I do."
What are the important safety tips to remember when backing your car?
Ignore all screams.
When driving through fog, what should you use?
Your car.
What problems would you face if you were arrested for drunk driving?
I'd probably lose my buzz a lot faster.
What changes would occur in your lifestyle if you could no longer drive lawfully?
I would be forced to drive unlawfully.
What are some points to remember when passing or being passed?
How to run them off the road once they’re halfway past, then see if I can get away with murder again.
What is the difference between a flashing red traffic light and a flashing yellow traffic light?
The color.
How do you deal with heavy traffic?
Road rage.
What can you do to help ease a heavy traffic problem?
Carry loaded weapons.
Mr. Lyle twitched violently. He wanted to know how Miss Parker had managed to find this. It was a complete outrage! He was going to make her pay dearly. Dearly, indeed.
He reached towards his office door, encountering a shard of broken glass instead. He blinked at the gash that now sliced across his palm and remembered that his office was unusable at the moment. If this continued, he’d have to displace someone to have a place to work.
He growled and spun on his heel, heading down the hallway to The Hole once again. But this time, something on the wall caught his eye. He stopped and stared at the piece of paper that hung there placidly, a single piece of tape holding it upright.
He blinked in slight surprise when he saw it was a copy of the list that was by his office door.
Oh, no, he thought, dread filling him. I bet there are copies of this throughout the whole building. She. Will. Die.
And with that final thought, he stalked off towards The Hole, hell bent on exacting the perfect revenge.
the end.
feedback welcomed at spacedoutwriter@hotmail.com
