And it will come down at midnight, Irish time, on the 22nd...
And it has now been taken down... only to reappear in the Skulduggery Pleasant Collection of short stories and novellas, available... um... some time in the spring of 2014...
Friday, December 21, 2012
The Button
This story- which I had intended to be REALLY REALLY short and funny and quirky- eventually became a little longer. And a lot less funny. But this is it.
And it will come down at midnight, Irish time, on the 22nd...
And it has now been taken down... only to reappear in the Skulduggery Pleasant Collection of short stories and novellas, available... um... some time in the spring of 2014...
And it will come down at midnight, Irish time, on the 22nd...
And it has now been taken down... only to reappear in the Skulduggery Pleasant Collection of short stories and novellas, available... um... some time in the spring of 2014...
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«Oldest ‹Older 1001 – 1200 of 4945 Newer› Newest»Are you?
Oh, guess not.
Oh, well.
Great story, by the way, though I'm partial to 'Trick or Treat.'
I'm here! I'm here!
And now nobody else is.
All right then.
MYCROFT HOLMES!!!
But no. With his sunglasses gone and his scarf hanging down, there was no denying the fact that he had no flesh, he had no skin, he had no eyes, and he had no face.
All he had was a pineapple for a head.
Shudder nodded. He closed his eyes and his fists clenched. Then a head pushed through his chest.
"Dang it," said the head, which belonged to an American tourist. "This isn't France!"
-------------
Valkyrie turned to the portal. It was taller than she was now. She licked her lips and walked forward. The wind whipped her hair and she could feel the gravitational pull, eager to welcome her. Valkyrie hesitated and then ran, straight into the yellow...
...and slammed into it and fell backwards.
She looked up from the ground. "What the hell?"
The yellow opened up as if it were a door, revealing an old, frail lady with missing teeth. "Hello, what you want?"
"Um, I want to go in."
"Ya, you make appointment?"
"No, but..."
"Cannot come in then!"
"Look, I'm here to get a friend, so..."
"No, must leave. Can call manager tomorrow and book appointment."
-----------
The case clicked and opened, and China lifted the Sceptre of the Ancients from its box.
She gestured to the crystal. "Throw it in the air."
Valkyrie looked at her. "What?"
"Just do it."
Valkyrie took a deep breath, then threw the crystal up in the air.
"Whee! Let's play tennis!" China cackled, and swung the Sceptre at the crystal. The crystal shattered into a million pieces.
China bit her lip and began to cry. "Oopsies."
----------
Slowly, Bliss reached for the symbol and it started to glow. He shook his head.
"I was wrong. This isn't a warning sigil."
"No," the Administrator agreed. "It's not."
She stepped back as a dozen symbols lit up, catching Bliss in a circle of blue light.
Suddenly, he was dressed head to toe in one of those sparkly Elvis Presley jumpsuits. A disco ball appeared on the ceiling, and loud disco music started playing.
"LET'S PARTY!" screamed the Administrator and Bliss at the same time, and they started dancing really badly.
"Come on! Let's do the Macarena!" Bliss yelled at Valkyrie.
Valkyrie turned to Scapegrace to try and formulate a plan, and she caught sight of him just as he fled around the far corner.
She sighed, but then shrieked as she got pulled into the cha-cha.
Dear September Silver,
*facepalm*
Umm... I feel like I'm playing tag.
That may not have been the best way of putting it... Oh well.
What I mean is, I go on, everyone else runs away, then I give up, and someone else is it. Strange.
I'll come on when you least expect it. Oh, and the Ameriminions haven't messed up. Neither did the Canadamininions or the meximinions.
*Canadaminions My sis stopped a whirlwind of doom, and some metal monsters, while I dealt with a demon intent on playing the sugar plum fairy at a ballet recital.
Seriously, a two-headed fire-breathing elephant in a tutu is not a pretty sight.
*has read Ember's mixed up SP*
*has fallen over laughing*
Omg ember, a pineapple for a head. Shudders. I've had seriously bad experiences with pineapples exploding at me while the imperial march plays in the distance.
Hi Tanith!
Miss Cain, I'm still catching up with what ember wrote, but so far, I don't blame you.
Hi!
Yes, Tanith is my real name.
Cool!!
'this isn't France' lol. Embers post is amusing.
Yeah, definitely.
I love that Tanith has the same name as me.
Ember is... unusual...
I noticed.
I'm unusual too, when it comes to that, but in a less obvious way.
Same.
3 MORE DAYS AND MY BOOK COUNT WILL AT LEAST REACH 95!!!!!!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!
Congratulations! 3 more days and my aunt Abby is visiting.
Nice!!
*hums any random Christmas carols*
She's read the Sp series too, and we both agree she's more like Tanith Low than I am.
Hums tunelessly and wonders if aunt Abby will bring her motorcycle. Doubts that mom would let her. She's my moms younger sis.
CANARY IN A COAL MINE!
Caught up with ember's comment. Strange but funny. I can see why ember would like the sp books.
Excuse me?
STAR!
*tacklehugs*
Um... Hi. Nice dramatic entrance.
So what was that about canaries? I'm afraid it flew right over my head.
I was quoting a song. By Madness . . . I'm relatively certain they're called that. We have a CD of theirs in our car. You probably won't have heard of them; they're from when my mum and dad were younger . . .
HI TANITH!
WHY, HELLO, PYROMANIA BUDDY!
I think this is where Star's getting it from:
In the past, when people went down coal mines and such, they used to send down a canary to check if there isn't any poisonous air and such.
If the canary stopped singing/died, they knew it was unsafe.
I think that's right...
OK.
That wasn't where Star was getting it from.
Pyromania buddyyyyyyyyy!!
*bro-fist*
Well, hi. No, haven't heard of them.
Begins covering self in fireproofing potion. You seem friendly, but just in case.
Begins covering self in fireproofing potion. You seem friendly, but just in case.
OOOOH.
My dad is getting my sister's (and mine, but I already know about it) Christmas present wrapped...
I'm going to go help.
Bb in... not sure.
But I'll be back!
Sorry didn't mean to post that twice.
Kk ciao!
I may or may not be back or exist or even leave.
Yes, Cain, that's what the song was referencing to. :)
Sorry, distant.
FOURS CAIN!
Why were you referencing to the whole canary coal mine died tradition?
Probably not the best way of putting it, but... Curious.
Because I have the song stuck in my head. :)
Ah, if it's not a Christmas carol I don't have it stuck in my head.
*grins*
I like Christmas carols . . .
I'm getting really sick of 'Santa Claus is Coming to Town.'
And any sung in really horrid accents by people who seriously stretch their vocal range. Other than those, I like carols.
Plays hip-hop remix of deck the halls
Santa Claus is Coming to Town makes Stana sound like a stalker. O_O
Ya really. K midnight here and I'm not dead. Ima sleep now. nice meeting you and Cain. For the record, Americans didn't mess up. Oh wait Hawaii and Alaska to go. Sigh. Good night/day/morning/evening/bye/whatever.
*Santa
FOURS TANITH! :(
Greetings blogphycos.
How goes thee?
Oh. Am I alone? Well thats depressing.
Okay then, sorry, im leaving, since no one else is here.
Bye :)
p.s the story is forming a niiiiice plot, so PLEASE, email me your character details if you want to be part of it!
cracks. Riversdale Square was full of stores with advertisements and bargains and restaurants with violin music and people who didn’t seem to realize that they were attracting all sorts of bad luck. A black cat streaked out of one of the restaurants and was met by an admiring crowd, who petted it and fed it tidbits and seemed to like the nasty little bad-luck charm.
Sandy skirted around the idiots, giving the horrid animal a wide berth. He stopped tiptoeing as he left the square, because his feet fit into the sidewalk panels, and he could keep up a one-two-one-two rhythm, with two footfalls in each panel, all the way home.
That night, Sandy had a premonition. It must have been a premonition because the lucky rabbit was in it. Whenever the lucky rabbit appeared, it guided him to the right path. Why wouldn’t it?
Sandy’s premonition showed him that terrible fires would engulf his city. He had to find a way to survive the local apocalypse, and soon. He got out of bed and then stopped. He’d gotten out the wrong side! He plopped back down, counted to three and got out the other side. After that, he turned around three times and mumbled “Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” his usual spell for undoing bad luck.
He made himself hard-boiled eggs for breakfast and then paused. Should he put salt on them, and risk spilling it, or should he stay safe and have his eggs taste bland? Better safe than sorry, he decided. No salt.
He was slicing the eggs into pieces when the knife flew out of his hand. He jumped back, and it clattered to the floor.
“Oh, dear,” he muttered, “Dropping a knife means a visitor. I hate having company, and the fact that it was a knife and not a fork means that it isn’t my mother. I don’t particularly like it when my mother comes to fuss over me, but better her than somebody else. Maybe the prophet from the other side of town predicted the apocalypse, too, and is coming to warn me. Maybe it’s Mr. Hodge, come to say he finally understands my beliefs and we can be friends again. Maybe it’s my boss. Oh, I hope he doesn’t fire me.” Sandy continued to speculate all through breakfast.
He was just clearing his place, when there was a knock at the door. A peek out the mail slot showed that it was Mr. Bates, the horrendously rich idiot. Sandy opened the door reluctantly, and Mr. Bates swept into the room.
“Hello, Sandy,” he said, full of cheerfulness. “I just came to—Goodness! Why are you wearing your bathrobe inside out?”
“To avoid being recognized be evil spirits, sir,” Sandy replied. “It really works. I haven’t been haunted, so far.”
“I see,” Mr. Bates raised his eyebrows, clearly indicating that he did not see whatsoever. “Well, I just came to collect the rent. You forgot to drop it off at my administrative center Wednesday last. I presume you don’t want to have to make any tardiness payments, so I thought I’d collect it on my way to work.”
Sandy thought back. He had been on his way when he’d seen the lucky rabbit. He’d followed it back to his house, where it led him to the newspaper. He’d gotten so busy reading and thinking how the bank robbery could have been prevented with a little rosemary oil, and the company wouldn’t have failed if the owner hadn’t stepped on so many sidewalk cracks. Maybe the rabbit had set it up on purpose. Maybe it didn’t want him to pay the rent. Why should he, anyway? With the local apocalypse coming up, no one would care if his rent was paid or unpaid.
“No,” Sandy decided.
. . . Damn. Still here, still here!
“What?” Mr. Bates’ face turned red. “Mr. Arnolds, I’ve put up with the disgusting odor of rosemary oil all over my property. You wallpapered the living room with cartoon rabbit wallpaper! That would have gotten anyone else evicted. I have tried to accommodate your eccentricities, but if you decline to reimburse me for my pains, you will have to depart from these premises. I allow you three days to come to a decision. Pay your rent or leave!”
“I’m sorry; I haven’t the slightest idea what you just said. I presume you were yelling at me for refusing to pay my rent. I’m sorry, but with the apocalypse coming, I can’t waste money on things like that. I have to figure out how to survive the disaster! You should probably escape to one of your vacation homes, preferably one near lots of rabbits. You’ll be safe there.”
Sandy smiled, thinking he’d done his landlord a favor by warning him of the danger. Mr. Bates looked shocked for a moment, then huffed and stormed out of the room saying something about three days until the deadline. Sandy puzzled for a minute, decided that that must be when the apocalypse would happen, and began planning survival operations.
He would need an underground bunker. He would also need a place to put it. Mr. Bates wouldn’t like a big hole on his property. Some exploring was certainly necessary. Sandy threw on his exploring clothes, a grey shirt that had been on the top of his drawer, a brown vest with lots of empty pockets, Cargo pants with lots of empty pockets, and a tool belt with no tools. His exploring outfit made him feel important. He grabbed a shovel and a banana and set off.
After only ten minutes, he found a clearing in the middle of the woods. He wasn’t sure who owned those woods, but he would offer them a spot in his bunker when the time came. Except if it was Mr. Bates. He started on the hole in which he would put his bunker, once he acquired one. Lunchtime passed, and he ate his banana and then kept digging. It was shortly past two when he saw the rabbit. He got up and began to stumble after it, dropping his shovel in the process.
The rabbit hopped away from him, scared by the weird person-monster that was advancing on it with the most curious facial expression.
“I’m following, O’ great rabbit one!”
The monster let out a roar, much too scary for the rabbit to remain in the vicinity. It bounded off, ears flat against its head, nose twitching. The monster’s footfalls were close behind, thud, thud, thud. The rabbit darted into a bush and the person-monster galloped past. The rabbit snuck from bush to bush until it once more reached its safe burrow. It darted in, found its mommy, and felt much better.
Sandy continued running, and it took him two and a half minutes to realize that the rabbit was gone. By then, he had reached Mr. Bates’ property, the part of his property where he actually kept his mansion, guest cottage, pool-house (complete with an 8-foot deep swimming pool and two hot tubs), his RV, his wife’s RV and mini golf course.
Sandy looked carefully at Mr. Bates’ RV. It would make a perfect underground bunker! Mr. Bates wouldn’t need it during the apocalypse, and if he was going to escape before-hand, he and his wife could both fit in her RV, though it was too pink for Sandy’s taste.
Sandy knocked at the door of Mr. Bates’ house. If someone was there, he would say that he came to pay the rent, reach into his pocket, express surprise at not finding it, apologize for the inconvenience and be on his way. If no one was home, his plan would begin immediately. No one answered the door.
A few weeks ago, Sandy had misplaced his house key. It had turned up later, in the dishwasher, but Sandy had been forced to borrow Mr. Bates’ copy for a few days. He’d seen the row of hooks where Mr. Bates kept all his keys in the garage.
Sandy grabbed a metal rake and went to the doghouse. Mr. Bates’ German shepherd had died the year before, so it was empty. The doghouse did not have a back wall, as it butted against the garage. Sandy crawled into it, and jabbed the wall with the pole of the rake until it gave way. He had to jab some more to make the hole big enough to crawl through, and then he was in.
The garage was full of dusty shelves of china and antiques. Sandy considered selling some of those antiques to buy supplies for his bunker, but decided against it. Some of those plates might actually have some sentimental value, and the rabbit hadn’t given him permission to take them. He grabbed the key and left the way he’d come, leaning an antique map over the hole as he backed out.
He inspected the RV for any items that Mr. Bates might miss. He dumped the portable chess set, blanket (it might be a security blanket), glasses case, box of moldy pastries, paperclip, quarter and pair of headphones on the porch; climbed in the RV and drove off.
At quarter-past-five, Mrs. Bates drove down the driveway, humming a cheerful tune as she went. She’d had a delightful time at the Ladies’ Club, playing chess and eating pastries, and was planning to come home and watch kitchen-remodeling shows on television. Her plans were altered, however, when she noticed her husband’s RV was missing.
If he had come home and taken it himself, his car would be there, and he would most likely have called her to tell her what was going on. It must have been stolen!
She pulled out her cell phone, and dialed Mr. Bates’ number.
“Hello, Katherine. How was the Ladies’ Club?” Mr. Bates sounded cheerful.
Mrs. Bates tried to ask him if he’d taken the RV somewhere, but all that came out was a hysterical squeal.
“Katherine? Katie, honey, are you okay?”
Mrs. Bates concentrated very hard, thinking about the delicious apricot Danish pastries she’d had earlier at the club. Having successfully relieved some of the hysteria, she gasped out. “Gregory, we’ve been robbed!”
“Call the police. I’ll be right there.” There was a scuffling sound, then clip of music as Mr. Bates shut down his computer, and then a click as he hung up the phone.
Mrs. Bates went to the porch and sat down, pushing a pile of junk out of her way. She had considered the mansion a safe place, but now she wasn’t sure. It was hard to drive an RV with no key, and the key to the RV was in the garage. The garage was password-protected, but the password was written down in her address-book. The villainous perpetrator had been in her house, possibly in her very room! She almost fainted from the shock.
At the last minute, she pulled herself together, and when calling the police, managed to keep her voice fairly calm.
Officers Squires pulled down the gravel driveway to the mansion. From the passenger seat, Officer Nesbitt scowled. She always scowled. It made it very hard to tell what she was thinking.
The mansion was huge, and Officer Squires could see why it had been targeted, but in a house that big, there had to be a whole lot more to steal than just an RV.
Squires parked, got out of the car, and started towards the couple who stood near the porch. These must be Mr. and Mrs. Bates, Squires decided.
Mr. Bates turned to face them. “Hello, officers.”
Squires muttered a hello, but Nesbitt went straight to business. “Is that where the motor-home used to be?”
“Yes, it was right next there to my wife’s.”
“Where did you keep the key?”
“Well I have one key right here with me, and I keep another in the garage.”
“Would you mind I looked inside?” Officer Squires asked while Officer Nesbitt began to walk around the garage’s perimeter.
“Go right ahead.” Mr. Bates opened the garage door with a miniature remote that hung on his key chain. “I’m not sure how anyone could get in there, though. The door can only be opened by seven remotes. One was on the inside of each RV, one on my keychain, one on my wife’s, one in each of our cars and one right outside the door. The one outside the door requires a password, and takes a picture of anyone who opens, and emails the picture to me. The last picture I received was when my wife opened the door this morning.”
“I see.” Officer Squires pondered. “Is the camera still in working order?”
Mr. Bates looked at the apparatus and frowned. “Well…I really don’t know. But it’s supposed to send me an email if it’s disconnected, and it hasn’t, so I presume it is.”
“Is there a ventilation system?” asked Officer Squires.
Mr. Bates pointed to a vent high on the wall. It was blocked by a screen that was secured on the inside, and divided into sections too small for a person to climb through.
Officer Squires examined the paved driveway. He pulled a vial and gloves out of his bag and scooped up a bit of dirt. It was clearly cedar dirt, and there were no cedar trees in sight. Mr. Bates’ shoes didn’t have any of the reddish, powdery dirt on them, and a quick glance showed that Mrs. Bates’ shoes were spotless.
“Mr. Bates, do you have any cedar trees on your property?” Officer Squires jumped, as he heard the very words he had been about to say.
Nesbitt was standing behind him, and her blue police uniform was covered in the reddish dirt. She frowned at Officer Squires’ shock.
“Cedar trees?” I might have some in my woods, but I don’t know exactly what they look like. They’re evergreen, right?”
“Yes, they are, and they usually leave reddish dirt, like this,” Officer Squires explained. He turned “I presume you got in the same way he did, but how, exactly?”
Officer Nesbitt frowned. “He banged the handle of a rake into the wall, behind the doghouse. He must have been there for at least an hour, but eventually he got through. The size of the doghouse shows that he was fairly short. It was difficult for me to scrunch up in there, and I couldn’t have broken the wall open. Does anyone short have a grudge against you?”
“Well one of my tenants refused to pay his rent. He thinks the apocalypse is coming, and he needs to be ready for it.”
“Do you think he’d need an RV for the apocalypse?” asked Officer Squires.
“I have no idea what he might possibly need for his so-called apocalypse!” Evidently Mr. Bates was still angry at this man. Officer Squires extracted the address of the suspect, then he and Officer Nesbitt went back to their car.
Officer Squires turned to the passenger seat. For once, Officer Nesbitt wasn’t scowling. She looked deep in thought.
“Do you think this Mr. Arnolds did it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t see a strong motive, but there’s something just irrational about this case. Sandy Arnolds has a reputation as an oddball, and he might be familiar with where Mr. Bates keeps his keys. If he ever got locked out of his house, that’s where he’d go. He’d know that the doghouse was empty. But it doesn’t make sense why he would be digging, or why he would have decided to take the RV.” Nesbitt’s usual scowl returned as she trailed off.
Sandy Arnolds' house looked normal on the outside. It was beige and built pretty much the same as the rest of the neighborhood. As he and Nesbitt reached the porch, Officer Squires began noticing the odd bits. The garden had one row of pansies, and the rest was carrots, lots and lots of carrots. The door knocker had some little bits of cardboard added on, ears and a nose, to make is look like a rabbit.
“Maybe he wanted the RV as a hutch for his rabbits?” Officer Squires suggested.
“He doesn’t have rabbits. He’s just obsessed with them,” Officer Nesbitt responded, grabbing the knocker and letting it swing with a loud, business-like ‘Clack-clack.’Sandy opened the door to find two police officers, one tall and scowling, one short and smiling hesitantly. They must have come to learn about the apocalypse!
“Are you Sandy Arnolds?” the scowling one asked.
“The one who predicted the end of the world? Yes. Come on in, and I’ll tell you all about it.” He held the door open, and the two police officers entered.
Sandy heard one of them whisper to the other, “Look at his hair.”
What was wrong with his hair? He ran his fingers through it, and looked at the reddish brown powder. Having dirt in your hair was not the way to impress people. He excused himself briefly to wash out as much as he could. He would have to make up for bad first impressions by providing them with lots of knowledge on how to survive the apocalypse.
Oh! People are here! Yay!
HI!
While Sandy was out of the room, the two police officers both agreed he must be guilty. The only problem? They didn’t know where the RV was. Officer Squires could tell, by the fact that she wasn’t scowling, that Nesbitt was thinking. He hoped she would think of something before Sandy came back. No such luck. They heard footsteps, and Nesbitt whispered. “You flatter him, I’ll be skeptical. Let’s see what works.”
Sandy re-entered the room looking much neater. His hair had been combed, and he had changed into a slightly less wrinkly shirt. Most of the dirt was gone, though there was still one smear left.
He must have heard me comment on his hair, Squires wanted to say, but didn’t. Nesbitt studied the expression on his face, came to a conclusion, and then flashed their “alls-well” hand sign.
“Hello, Officers. I suppose you came about the apocalypse. I’m Sandy. I predicted it with some help from the lucky rabbit.”
Officer Nesbitt shook Sandy’s hand, frowning. “Officer Maureen Nesbitt. I’m in charge of protecting police files, and I need to make sure they survive the apocalypse. Officer Squires here told me you had predicted it, and he seemed to think you’d be able to help,” she scowled.
“Help? He’s only the best person to ask. He knows more about the upcoming apocalypse than anyone else.” Officer Squires defended. He gave Sandy a pleading look, like ‘You can help us, right?’
Sandy puffed up at the praise, and huffed indignantly at Officer Nesbitt. “You need an underground bunker to survive the apocalypse,” he stated. “Everybody knows that.”
Officer Nesbitt shot Officer Squires a look. He’d clearly missed something, something important—oh!
Squires jumped up. The real reason he had done so was that he’d finally realized where all the dirt came from, and he had a pretty good idea of what happened to the RV. The stated reason was, “An underground bunker! That’s so cool!”
Sandy smiled, and his face turned pink. “I can show you, if you like.”
“That would be wonderful.”
While Sandy and Squires were enthusiastically discussing the benefits of underground bunkers, Officer Nesbitt’s eyes were wandering around the room, noticing a glint of metal on the table. She rotated slightly and pushed a button on her watch, with a faint click. A photograph had just been emailed to her police email address and a copy to the general police computers. She pushed another button, and a buzz rang out.
She pulled out her cell phone, looked at it, and said, “Be right back.” She held her arm up slightly, and on the way out, took a closer photo of the metal object. If it was what she thought it was, it was important evidence.
“Come on,” said Sandy.
“What?” Officer Squires jumped. He’d been trying to piece together the bunker and the RV. Was it possible that they were one and the same? He gave Sandy a slightly confused look. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I said, come on, let’s go see the bunker before your colleague with the angry face comes back.”
“She’ll probably tell my boss, and…”
“Which is more important, your job, or surviving the apocalypse?”
Squires agreed that survival was more important. He couldn’t see a way to avoid going without his colleague, without losing Sandy’s trust. Hopefully, Nesbitt would guess where they went.
He wondered why she’d left the room in the first place. Her cell-phone usually played Phantom of the Opera chromatic scales. It never buzzed. A peek out the window showed she hadn’t been answering a call, she needed to make one. Squires hoped she would finish soon, and catch them leaving. No such luck.
Sandy dragged him out the back door, and they started off into the woods.
Officer Nesbitt had a call to make. “Hello, Mr. Bates? Could you please describe the key to your RV? Yes, the one that was stolen from your garage. What color sharpie? Blue? And it was on a necklace? Okay, thank you.”
She hung up, and then looked again at the picture that had been sent to her phone. The metal glint she had seen belonged to a key. It was dull gold in color, with the words ‘G’s RV’ in blue sharpie. The top of the key was hidden below the horoscope from yesterday’s paper, but there was a light wrinkle that suggested that the key could very well be on a necklace like Mr. Bates had said.
Nesbitt decided to go straight to arresting Sandy. She could interrogate him and find out where he’d stashed the RV. He couldn’t possibly have had time to turn it into a bunker already. That was clearly what Squires thought, but the RV wasn’t small. It would take a really big hole to bury it, and Sandy didn’t have access to any construction equipment. The very idea was ridiculous.
When Officer Squires saw the underground bunker, he gasped. Mr. Bates’ RV was buried so deep that the dirt came halfway up the windshield. How Sandy managed this, Squires didn’t know, but he had to have dug the hole beforehand.
“Impressive, isn’t it.” Sandy smiled.
“Wow, I think a bunker like this could even change Nesbitt’s mind about you!”
Sandy didn’t take the hint. Instead he opened what was usually an emergency exit on the top, and invited Squires to have a look.
Inside, there was a messy pile of blankets, a camp stove, two tanks of fuel, a mini refrigerator, a lantern, a pile of Bugs Bunny comics, a stuffed rabbit, and a bowl of carrots, energy bars and trail mix.
“Looks like you could easily survive the apocalypse in one of those.” Squires wasn’t sure what else to say. He wondered if he should just arrest Sandy now, or if he should wait and hope that Officer Nesbitt caught up.
Nesbitt tried to open Sandy’s front door. It was locked tight. She tried knocking, first a light tap, working up to a loud rap that made her fist hurt. When nobody answered that, she determined that Officer Squires and Sandy were not in the house. They had probably gone to see the underground bunker.
Nesbitt walked around to the back door, and pretty soon, she had found the trail. Two sets of footprints led off into the woods. Nesbitt followed them for almost five minutes before she heard voices.
“I keep the bunny in there for good luck. Don’t you dare insult it!” Sandy sounded really angry.
“I didn’t insult your stuffed rabbit,” Squires responded. “I just said…”
“Just because it isn’t alive doesn’t mean it isn’t lucky!” Nesbitt could bee them now, standing in front of the RV. Sandy’s face was bright red.
I wonder how he got it that deep, Nesbitt thought. She stepped closer, and saw that the extra dirt had been piled around the RV to make it look deeper. In reality, the hole was probably only two or three feet deep. It would still be hard to get it out of there, though.
Sandy and Squires were still arguing over whether or not Squires should apologize to the rabbit, when Sandy turned, saw Nesbitt, and broke into a run.
Squires looked at Sandy, confused. What was he running from? He heard a crash off to his left, and saw Nesbitt scrambling up and muttering about a stupid log.
“Nesbitt? How…”
“Come on! He’s getting away!” Nesbitt interrupted. She said something else, too, but it was lost to the wind as she ran after the thief.
Squires started after them, and soon caught up with Nesbitt, but try as they might, neither of them could gain any ground on Sandy. He was running through salal bushes like the sticks couldn’t scratch him, but Squires and Nesbitt were slightly less immune to the poking branches.
“He’s going to escape,” Squires pointed out.
“I can see that. Keep running,” Nesbitt replied. “If he keeps going in this direction, he’ll hit a really big river.”
“How far away is the river?”
“Do I look like a Global Positioning System? It was an inch away from Sandy’s house on the map, that’s all I know.”
Ahead of them, Sandy stopped with a cry of anguish.
“Do you suppose that’s the river?” Squires asked.
“Well whatever it is, it made him stop.”
They stopped a few feet away from Sandy, and saw a little black kitten rubbing against his legs.
“Get it off me!” Sandy shrieked. “It’ll curse me.”
“Mrow?” the kitten asked.
Nesbitt handcuffed Sandy, and then scooped up the kitten. “Sandy Arnolds, you’re under arrest.”
“Mrow!” the kitten agreed. Nesbitt scratched it behind the ears, and it began to purr.
Squires blinked. Was Officer Nesbitt starting to smile? It must be his imagination.
Oh, I'm here. Somewhat. I'm leaving now though, sorry.
Tanith... really!?
p.s Hi. Im Calidae.
Oh, pretend this was at the beginning
Sandy Arnolds tiptoed his way through the tiled plaza, carefully avoiding all the
goes right before 'cracks'
I'M BACK!
And you don't wrap trampolines...
Hi, I'm Tanith.
oh, hi BACK!
Kk now that I've posted my apocalypse-ish story and greeted everyone, I'm leaving for real*
*probably
Just read it :)
Awesome story. :)
Cool story!!
imm leaving too... bye :)
Bye Tanith and Cal!!
I'M HERE
what a wonderful story thank you so much. I was on the edge of my seat by the end of it and then..... well I fell off :) ... and the dog gave me an odd look steped over me and demanded her brekfast!
Merry Christmas
can someone comment on my second blog post
please
going comment
hey, is there anyone there?
Hey Mel!!
hey!!!
so whats happening where you are?
*Pretends to be a ninja aeroplane*
Msd.
OMFG IT'S NEARLY CHRISTMAS OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!
I'm chilling out, drawing...
I KNOW IENI!! I KNOW!!
3 sleeps guys, 3 sleeps :D
Ooo...what you drawing?
I'm so hyper! I think it was the sherry in the Christmas cake I get nicking bits out of as I was making it for my uncle...
*ninjaeroplanetacklehugs* Miss Cain and Mel.
SO HYPPEEER!!!!!!
2 sleeps actually, if you're like me and stay up until Midnight and then open one of your presents to keep yourself from a nervous breakdown of Christmas prezzies *nods*
oook, Ieni I think you need to lie down ... or sumthin
HI PEOPLE!
Wbd. *gestures towards book*
But...but...that's BORING! DX
Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *ninjaeroplanetacklehugs*
*Steals book so she can't be distant*
Hee hee! XD
hey star :)
I g2g do some work now -_-
Byebye *waves*
*Takes Star's book with me*
awwwwww ok bye Ieni :(
*wails* I'M LIKE FIVE PAGES OFF FINISHING IT!
*ninjaeroplanetacklehugs* Hi. :)
:( FOURS, IENI! *steals book back*
*steals book from Star* *runs into hole in ground*
*cries* WHY, WHY, WHY? *chucks book at wall*
THAT WAS SUCH A CLIFFHANGER OMGG! YOU CAN'T END A BOOK WITH SOMEBODY KNIFING A GOOD GUY WIRH THE INTENTION TO KILL HIM! YOU CAN'T DOOOOOO THATTTTTTTT! NOW I WON'T KNOW IF HE SURVIVES, OR DIES AND COMES BACK TO LIFE, OR DIES FOR GOOD UNLESS I BUYTHE NEXT BOOK! PLUS THE BIKER GUYS ARE A MILLIMETRE AWAY FROM DESTROYING THE VAMPIRES AND THE PEACE AND THE TOWN AND THE MAIN CHARACTERS! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! YOU CAN'T! POOR MAYBE-FULLY-DEAD MICHAEL!
. . . Well, I already knew the author was evil, her surname's Caine. XD
ok...?
*looks at book in hole* Destroy it if you want.
"They all screamed as the knife came down."
OMGG, YOU CAN'T END A BOOK ON THAT SENTENCE.
*rereads last page* *growls in frustration*
so Im guessing your ... unhappy?
Meh. I was angry, now I'm over it. My temper works like that. *starts wrapping tinsel around Banana Statue*
So, how are you today?
Im good, Im currently lying in bed with my onsie on you?
Hi!
Is anyone on
sadjjjjj
I am asking if anyone is here.
Here!
I don't like not getting up and dressed before ten o'clock. *grins* I'm so odd. *nods*
I'm sitting on my bedroom floor flicking through my Doodle Stitching book, knowing I'll never do any of it but glancing at it anyway.
Hi Brad!
can someone post on my second blog post brad wood a blog
pretty please
Im here! (I just went to get jaffa cakes)
like the new photo star
COMMENTED!
Thanks Brad. I'm being Christmassy. :)
has anyone posted
Oooh.
I poofed as I was searching Hunger Games art on dA...
But I'm back.
OMGG IT'S APPARENTLY GOING TO BE 39 DEGREES ON CHRISTMAS DAY!!
I'M GOING TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELT!!!!!! D:
I told my dad that one of my blogfriends was calling Christle Mistle Christle Mistle. He said I was infecting you. :)
Which makes me even more infected by Scáth because as well as caps and the emoticons I use and runningwordstogether and blah, I'm also like her coz she infects people to act like her and now I'm infecting people to act like me. :)
I'm such a copylizard. XD
HELLO CAIN! *chucks dictionary at her* Did you know that popple is a word?
I have red thread, purple thread, yellow thread and black thread. That . . . that isn't a whole lot of colours.
Popple is a good word :D
where did everyone go...?
:(
SORRY!! I KEEP POOFING!!
POPPLE!
POPPLE INDEED!
:D
I HAVE A SKULDUGGERY SECTION OF MY ROOM NOW!!
cool! My mum got me book 6 & 7 the hardback editions but when I opened my birthday presents I looked aat my mum and said "mum how am I supposed to read 7 again when I havent read 6 again?" so she ran away and came back 2 mins later with book 6 in her hand and swapped them and she is now acting as if it never happened...
*laughs*
My grandparents are the ones who buy me different editions.
My parents only let me buy the Down Under Tour editions.
My grandparents, for my birthday this year, let me order online 2 American hardbacks (the first book and the second book), 3 American paperbacks (the first 3), DB hardback and KOTW hardback.
And then I have other SP books from just buying them...
WOW... O_o
I have a grand total of 25 SP books.
And by Christmas I'll have 27 SP books.
But my grand, GRAND total of books is 88, 95 at least by Christmas.
*grins*
I love my books...
*picks up random book from shelf*
*realises its my Hunger Games special edition*
*hugs it*
I have eight SP books. 1-6 in paperback, 6-7 in hardback. :)
And L has... well, she has quite a few.
I pass on a lot of books to my sister and she passes on loads to my brother.
No way EVER are my sisters getting my books.
My books are MINE.
That, and they just aren't into reading like I am.
I now have thick yellow thread, thick purple thread, thick red thread, thin black thread, more thin black thread, yet more thin black thread, thin green thread,.qnd thin purple thread.
Lovely.
Whatcha making?
Muhna muhna...
Oh, and thick orange thread.
My sister has to come to my room if she wants my current speckle books, but she has my old My Secret Unicorn books and my old Stardust books and my old Seahorses books, and my brother has these incredibly old falling-apart Enid Blyton paperbacks that were my sister's before him and mine before my sister. However, I have my old Rainbow Magic books coz I have over sixty and my sister cannot NOT lose at least one of them. Plus her bookcase is really full. So is my brother's. So is mine. So is my mum's. So is the bookcase in the living room, which is about a metre wide but has books double-layered (books in front of other books so you never really see the back ones) and goes from floor to ceiling.
Plus the attic has tons of books in it.
:)
*looks at Ieni* I said meh so much last night and at lunch today. Every time someone said something, I went, 'Meh.' It got kinda amusing, but it was just such a useful word! :/
YOU INFECTED ME WITH YOUR MEHNESS!
Hi, btw. *ninjaeroplanetacklehugs*
My mum hasn't let me buy any books in years and years. She says they're a waste of space. She says that if I want books I can get them from the library. Hmm...I'm making my mum sound evil. She isn't really:)
BUTITSNOTEVENFAIRBECAUSETHENICANTEVEROWNANYOFTHESPBOOKSANDIMGOINGTOGODIEINAHOLEANDASDFGHJKL
I don't actually know, Caine. I want to make SOMETHING, but none of my ideas are any good.
Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *ninjaeroplanetacklehugs*
Yes! Yes! Omg, you got my mehess! #Ienisamazinginfluence, just like you got me nodding #Starsamazinginfluence!
I actually got meh from my brother, who got it from his friend...
WHOAAAAAAAAA.
OMG. I USED TO READ RAINBOW MAGIC.
I got up to...
*goes and checks in wardrobe*
*comes back*
...56!
I used to collect them in the little box sets, and sometimes the box sets with the doll...
Such innocent times before Skulduggery, Valkyrie and violence...
And now they, like, over 100.
MEH IS LIKE THE BEST WORD EVERRRRRRRRR!!!!
OMFG RAINBOW MAGIC WERE MY FAVOURITE BOOKS! I was 5 or 6 when I got the first series for my birthday, because I didn't want one of the sewing thingy books, because my parents thought I'd be like my sister, BUT I'M NOT! And then I had the Stella, Holly and Summer specials and I read the rest in the library.
IT'S NOT EVEN FAIR DAISY MEADOWS IS A COLLECTION OF AUTHORS NOT ONE PERSON! DX
Miss Cain!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *ninjaeroplanetacklehugs*
*is ninjaeroplanetacklehugged*
*wonders if I still have the dolls...*
OH! I drew Rainbow Magic fanart when I was... 7, maybe?
*goes to see if I can find it*
I remember I was convinced those fairies could move on the cover. They always followed me around my room and stalked me ANDITWASN'TEVENFAIR! DX
Going to go do the washing up now, so I can come back on here later, when my parents are out.
Au revoir! *waves*
My school library is amazing. But if I didn't have that, I'd be stuffed for books coz most libraries have like one shelf for teenagers and that's it. Plus libraries so often have incomplete series of books. It's so annoyzigging coz then you hwve to buy the next ones.
My mum occasionally randomly buys me random books. Mostly the aforementioned random books are meh, but this was how I obtained and read the first Artemis Fowl book and that lead my on to read all kinds of other good books like Percy Jackson. I think. But I also partially read Percy Jackson coz ages ago my mum had told me that this girl I knew liked them, so it was still my mum. And it was the humor in Percy Jackson and Artemis Fowl which made me take Skulduggery Pleasant out the library because judging by the blurb I thought it sounded funny so I was like, "Alright." And if I hadn't taken it out then, would I be here now? Maybe not. I hadn't read all the SP books when I first came here, and if I hadn't had my definition of Good Bookchanged I mightn't've liked it so much, and I wouldn't've checked the website if the Percy Jackson one hadn't been awesome, I don't think.
So in short, if not for my mum, I doubt I'd be here now.
*frowns* Actually, I inherited my bookness from my mum, so I could have just said that, but whatever.
*waves back*
Bye Ieni!
Well. Finding that fanart will be a bit tougher than I first thought.
I have so much stuff at the top of my wardrobe...
I ALSO GOT THOSE SPECIAL BOOKS.
The ones with three charms or something they had to find?
I had about...7, maybe, of those.
My first Skulduggery book came into my hands because of my grandad.
He first got me to read the Series Of Unfortunate Events from the local library.
He just told me to be adventerous.
And we were at the shops one day, in maybe, 2009 (?) and he bought me the first SP book then and there.
It was on my shelf for a while and then I picked it up and started reading it.
I loved every moment.
So now, when I want another SP book, my parents finally know who to blame.
So I think I
Why the hell is there "So I think I" at the end of my comment?!
Sometimes the keyboard has a mind of its own lol
OH GOD! SO MANY RAINBOW MAGIC LOVERS!
I was OBSESSED. It got me into fairies. I loved fairies! I had a fairy party when I was little and we played pin-the-wings-on-the-fairy and my dad drew this massive image of Rachael on a piece of cardboard to pin the wings onto. And I used to play so many games with my Rainbow Magic books. I used to have all the different books on different steps of the staircase and play with them. I put them in different orders and they had convos and all. And I had a register! Wooooo! When I read the stories, they were books. When they were on the staircase, they were people. :)
And my new craze was Polly Pockets. Omgg, I loved them so much. I must have been into Polly Pockets for four years at the very least. Probably five or six years. One of my fav Polly Pckets games was where there would be a flood, and they would all get onto boats (A big operation, this. I had TONS of Polly Pockets) and these boats would be . . . MY RAINBOW MAGIC BOOKS! Even after I grew out of Rainbow Magic, they were still my boats, or some of them where, and they duitfully sailed along the landing and fell down the waterfalk, aka the stairs, to stop and wait for the others in the hall.
And I used to draw the fairies from the covers att! And I loved doing stuff from the website! And when I was little I wrote out all the first seven stories! For no reason other than I was obsessed!
. . . Rainbow Magic and Polly Pockets. That was my life. :)
Hello, it's Ember here! Didya like my SP remix?
Polly Pockets was the BEST.
I used to love W.I.T.C.H too. And I just found out yesterday that Cedric dies.
*waterfall
Magic, fairies, Polly Pockets. They were my things I was in to.
And now I'm still into magic, I have a story that is about creatures similar to fairies, and . . . well, the Polly Pockets were just another way of making up a story. I still do that. Just with different characters. :)
*sighs* I miss my Polly Pockets. They were way better than just making up a story. They never acknowledged my presence in my games, but I miss them like friends. I miss their little community. :(
It was cool. :)
Haha.... Same.
Although I NEVER liked barbies.
Hi Em!
OMGG!! SAAAAAAAAME!!
My little Polly Pocket game was when they all lived around a giant lake (A.K.A., a blue towel with dolphins on it) with mansions and they all had partys on the boats, in the houses...
That was the life :)
I miss how they could make an ordinary object, like my light or a Christle Mistle tree or a windchime or a rug or a staircase of the banidters or grass, exciting. :(
Meh.
Ghastly's eyes widened. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Why not? You're liked, you're well-respected, and everyone knows about your bravery on the battlefield. You'd make an awesome drag queen!"
"I'm not a drag queen," Ghastly said. "I'm a tailor."
"You can still make suits in your spare time, but we're really going to need you to do this."
Ravel nodded solemnly. "Destiny is calling, my friend.
Hi Ember!
I KNOW, STAR!!
My little sister still plays Barbies and Polly POckets, so maybe I should join in with her one day... :)
Baron Vengeous crawled to the Grotesquery. "Tell them I'm sorry," Vengeous whispered. "I've failed them."
The Grotesquery put one hand on its hip. "Yeah, and whose fault is that, sucker?"
Hi Miss Cain!
*laughs*
Where DO you get these, Ember?
I write them :) And then I post them on fanfiction.
(I was supposed to do book 6 LAST week, but I'm too lazy.)
They're AWESOME!!
The Ieni returns.
*horrified gasp*
Cain: Why thank you!
Ieni: GASP!!!!
GASP indeed.
WB Ieni!
Guys, how do you get the cute orange thing next to your names? Because I have a blogger account but I only get this little red box.
1ST
YES!!!!!!!
My Polly Pockets had an island. Aka, my rug. And often they climbed up my room to the light. That was always fun. Plus I had my aforementioned flood debrakle. And I like them exploring new places I went to. Pkus I had ny Polly Pockdt sea resort and stuff. Then I had fashion shows, which were fun only coz I strangely enjoy counting out things and deciding which ones I have to take out till I'm left with nothing. I'm odd like that. *looks at my Maths book that's filled with a pointless excerise about cell doors and days that I did a second time after I'd finished it coz I liked marking down what went where* *looks at second Maths book where I drew over every square on the squared paper pages, because I had various patterns and ways of doing it and enjoyed the feeling of satisfaction of filling every square on the page and eventually in the book* Erm. I'm odd.
Meh, you can't be more odd than me. I again whacked somebody trying to Mycroftiate.
Thank you Ember...
I don't think I will ever be able to read Skulduggery in the same light every again.
Cute orange thing? Huh? Me confuzzled...
Em! Hey! *hugs* How're you?
Haha, what happened?
Hehe.
Everyone I know thinks I'm crazy.
Um. Sign in with your blogger account and not your Google+ one? I dunno.
Hello Emerald. Hehe. The perks of SP remixes.
Did you see the earlier ones?
*looks at piece of white fabric* I'm thinking of sewing on every bloglandian's name. And maybe sewing stick figures to go with them. Thoughts?
hey guys im back!!!
YES!
DO IT, STAR!
Hey again, Mel!
Ich the SP remixes gesehen. :)
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