part 17
All the World's a Stage...
by Nicole Colosimo
©2000 by by Nicole Colosimo and Matthew Atanian
Boy Scouts ½ created by Matthew Atanian
All the World's a Stage...
by Nicole Colosimo
©2000 by by Nicole Colosimo and Matthew Atanian
Boy Scouts ½ created by Matthew Atanian
It was a dreary Wednesday evening in Western Massachusetts. A cold, bitter March wind raked the landscape, biting through heavily lined coats and tightly wound tacky scarves. As the hour of six o’clock approached, the parking lot of The Church in the Acres was seemingly devoid of any movement. Well, except for the occasional, valiant squirrel scurrying on some top secret mission unbeknownst to the undeserving humans reading this and wasting precious time that could be better spent in washing the dishes or perhaps conquering a small country.
Suddenly, the serenity of the Church in the Acres was shattered as a large brown van arrived, crunching loose gravel beneath its tires. Swishing the side door open, a group of five chattering Girl Scouts, all heavily bundled up, emerged. After retrieving several large bundles from the trunk, they fled from the frigid night air into the warm building that awaited them.
Nearly half an hour later, The Church in the Acres was buzzing with activity as both Boy and Girl Scouts alike filed within to head to their respective meeting areas.
Mike Quadrozzi rushed inside, fleeing a particularly harsh gust of wind. Sighing with relief as the heat started to defrost his body, he congratulated himself on remembering to wear his pants. He glanced up and spotted most of the members of the Garden Snake Patrol and Matt Atanian talking softly in a huddled group.
“Hey guys,” Mike greeted, unconsciously adjusting his beaten red hat.
“WHAT?!” Becker replied, obviously gifted with an extensive vocabulary that went well beyond his years. The group winced, placing hands to their aching eardrums.
“Hey Mike,” Matt Atanian said, vehemently shaking his head as he attempted to rid his ears of that blasted ringing.
"I kill you,” Perry stated simply.
“Good evening, Mr. Quadrozzi,” Kenny added quietly, not looking up from his enormous book entitled The Nichomachean Ethics.
Bill Gelinas as and Matt Swett said their hellos, only to be interrupted by a very hyperactive Will Shmuler. Will jumped into the middle of their circle and threw his hands skyward.
“By the Power of Greyskull, I HAVE THE POWER!!!” he screeched at the top of his lungs (loud enough to even challenge Jon Becker). Suddenly, the young boy began shaking violently and making random, odd sounds like one might hear when pureeing a slinky in a small blender. The others continued to ignore Will even as he slowly sank to the floor, twitching and sputtering like a dying car.
“Attention, everyone!” Proctor bellowed suddenly, successfully causing everyone in the room to ignore him. “Our Lord God Yung wishes to grace us with some inspirational words.”
True to the nature of Troop 192, havoc continued to be wreaked by some of the younger boys, most of the adult leaders continued in their apathetic roles, and those troop members who actually had a desire to be involved looked on despairingly.
“Incompetent, Proctor!” Justy shrieked, spittle flying from his lips, and whapped Proctor soundly on the head with his baton. “Hear me peons, for I hold your pathetic excuses for existence within my clutches.” His beady eyes were sparkling with a fiendish light and his lip twitched to some unheard rhythm.
“My,” Matt Swett said dryly, “Justy is looking exceedingly maniacal tonight. Must be a special occasion.”
“Tonight I shall delight in further squishing the life force from the Garden Snake Patrol.”
The Garden Snake Patrol (minus the ever-tardy Hughes) sighed in dismay. Well, all except for Becker who couldn’t hear Justy anyway and Will Shmuler who was too busy kicking his legs in the air and making high pitched barks.
“The peons of the Garden Snake Patrol shall spend the next several months slaving away on their Theatre Badge in an effort to raise money for my palanquin.”
The entire Troop stared at Justy as if he had thrown on a skirt, stuck a banana in his ear, and demanded to be called Jeanette. (Of course, this look wasn’t far off from how they usually looked at him, but that’s unimportant!)
Matt Atanian’s jaw dropped several inches. SPL’s just didn’t go around assigning Patrols badges to be worked on. And further, never to raise money so that they could buy a bloody contraption to be carried around in.
“Hey guys!” a breathless and delayed Bill Hughes said in greeting. Glancing around, he found a common look of surprise mixed with horror and disbelief on the faces of his friends. “Er, what’d I miss?”
Distractedly, Aaron quickly filled him in.
“H-he can’t do that!” Hughes sputtered.
"I think he just did,” Matt Atanian said softly. He watched Justy smack Proctor’s head with his baton, emphasizing his decision on the fate of the Garden Snake Patrol.
Sarah Porter frowned and rubbed her aching temples. This wasn’t going to work.
The Pioneer Valley Girl Scout Council had decided that this was the year in which one lucky troop was to produce and perform a theatrical work in an effort to raise funds for the After School Initiative Program for Scouting. As the Fates would have it, Troop 42 was chosen for its renowned success in past fund raising events. The Council had chosen the classic (and in this author’s opinion, highly overrated but unfortunately rather useful) play, Romeo and Juliet.
Now, all she wanted to do was to delicately place a shotgun to her head and pull the trigger.
She groaned, happening to glimpse over at Kirsten and Nicole who were busy working on a patch. Her two younger sisters seemed to sense Sarah’s gaze and glanced up, smiling brilliantly. Sarah couldn’t help but return a grin. Those two were the most precious things to her on the face of the earth and she was doing this for them. That’s why she wouldn’t immediately throttle the other Adult Leaders of Troop 42 who thought it best to leave such an “honor” to a younger, more energetic leader.
Returning to the papers strewn before her, Sarah felt stress threatening to smother her once again.
Ironically enough, they had no funds with which to create a fundraiser. From a more optimistic point of view, costumes were not a problem. Troop 42 had quite a few proud parents who were more than willing to create costumes for the play. The bigger issue was the sets. A few yards of cloth were not a problem to donate; a few stacks of timber, a couple hundred nails, about twenty cans of paint, and every other thing they were in need of was an entirely different question.
And then there was the problem of the cast.
In choosing the cast, the Troop had decided to do nominations. It had turned out that Nicole was to play Juliet, Kirsten as the Nurse, Rebecca as Lady Capulet, and it had surprisingly ended there. Sarah frowned again, an expression she seemed to be wearing often these past couple of days. The three girls had been quite willing to take the parts, but no others had volunteered. It was quite obvious that they were terrified of performing on stage before an audience. Which was extremely bad. She had seven parts that were in desperate need of being filled.
What was she going to do?
What was he going to do? Matt Atanian thought grimly.
He couldn’t just let his friends suffer under Justy’s severely neurotic tyranny. Perhaps he could find support with the other Adult Leaders!
After quick mental slap upside the head, Matt returned to reality. Searching for help among the Adult Leaders would leave him with just as much progress as Napoleon had in his notorious flop in conquering Russia.
Matt’s thoughts turned grimmer. There was only one thing to do and in a complete disregard for his sanity, he made his decision. He would help the Garden Snake Patrol in anyway he could. Even if it meant his utter downfall.
The Porter sisters were brainstorming. Around them, girls worked diligently on patches, oblivious to the stress emanating from the three seated around the table full of papers and books.
“Seven parts left?” Nicole said, tapping her chin with a finger thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose I could call upon some debts to be paid.”
“Nicole,” Sarah said, fatigue evident in her features, “let’s keep things legal.”
“Oh.” Nicole frowned. “Then that will be a little more difficult.”
“Hey,” Kirsten smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I have an idea where we can get some people to fill the parts.”
Nicole and Sarah looked blankly at her, confusion playing on their faces. Suddenly, the little light bulbs in their heads went off. Nicole smiled, profits and dollar signs dancing through her head. Sarah frowned... fiercely.
“Kirsten,” she began.
“Sarah, we don’t have anyone else and besides they’re all very talented, creative, and reliable!” Kirsten suddenly stood up and looked at her sisters. “I’m going to go ask. Sarah, wipe that scowl off your face and Nicole don’t even think of trying to con those guys out of any money while they are doing us a favor!”
Kirsten turned and marched out of the room, leaving her two sisters staring after her in shock.
“Whoa.” Sarah blinked. “Was that our sister?”
“She did say, while, right?” Nicole demanded, somewhat pleadingly.
The Garden Snake Patrol and Matt Atanian were staring morosely at the floor when Kirsten found them.
“Oh my,” Kirsten said, her usually cheerful face plagued with concern. “What happened?”
“We’re doomed,” Bill Gelinas muttered.
“THIS SUCKS!!” Becker added.
“Life as we have known it has come to a bitter end.” Hughes sighed despairingly.
“We’ve been assigned to work on our Theatre Badge by the SPL in order to raise money for a litter he’s been wanting,” Mike explained.
“Theatre Badge?!” Kirsten exclaimed excitedly. “That’s great!”
“It is?” Aaron asked, confused.
“Guys.” Kirsten smiled excitedly. “Our Troop is putting on a play and we need actors. If you help us out, I’m pretty sure we can work something out with the funds.”
The melancholy mood lightened and the boys began to return to their normal states, or what could be defined as normal in their cases.
“What play is it?” Kenny asked, peeking up from his book.
“Romeo and Juliet.”
"Uh, I don’t do tights,” Matt Swett announced.
A few busy weeks passed as the Garden Snake Patrol and a core group of girls Troop 42 collaborated on a production of Romeo and Juliet.
Things had...progressed.
As the Fates (and author) would have it, the two available adult leaders, Matt and Sarah, were chosen to be Co-Directors. Many a rehearsal found Sarah muttering quietly to herself. Usually it was something to the effect of someone named, "Mr. Testosterone," and how he was no longer content with simply getting action in the kitchen, but now seemed to be aiming for getting it behind the curtain as well.
Mike’s beloved hat had once again proven useful. This time it providing a vessel from which parts, scrawled on small sheets of folded paper, were chosen. It turned out that Aaron was to play the part of Romeo, while Gelinas (the eternal declarer of the obvious) was cast as Benvolio and Mike as Mercutio. Matt Swett’s slip of paper had read Friar Lawrence. Perry had picked the part of Tybalt, nearly tearing through the worn fabric of Mike’s hat during his attempt to retrieve a paper. After soothing Mike’s hysteria and reassuring him that his hat was just fine, Becker had chosen Prince Escalus and Bill Hughes was to be cast as Paris.
Kenny had put his book down and had quietly volunteered to work on the sets. After everyone had gotten over the initial shock that Kenny had put his book down, they happily took him up on the offer. Sarah had introduced him to a small group of Juniors who had previously been working on the sets. After a few moments of whispered conversation in a small huddle, Kenny and the Juniors apparently had devised a plan and exuberantly set to work.
Now, two weeks later on a rainy Tuesday night, the Garden Snake Patrol, having cleared the tables to make room for moving about, were joyfully munching on pizza as they patiently awaited the Girl Scout Troop members for that night’s rehearsal at Perfumes Pizza.
“Hey,” Bill Gelinas frowned. “Why are we rehearsing here if Perfume wants us dead?”
“Shut-up, Bill!”
The door creaked open, jingling the little bell that hung above. Four Girl Scouts trudged through the door wearing dripping ponchos and similar expressions of extreme annoyance.
“Um, hello,” Matt ventured as Sarah Porter peeled off her poncho and plopped down beside him. Sarah blinked at him. “Right.” Matt nodded and retreated to his pepperoni pizza. Even though the two were Co-Directors, relations between them had progressed no further than an occasional civil comment relating to the play.
“Hey guys,” the ever-cheerful Kirsten greeted. The boys smiled and returned a greeting.
“Right,” Nicole was saying to Rebecca as the two sat down, “stocks in TELREX Inc. are due to shoot up again and then we should be well on our way. I’m thinking that probably next month sometime we should make our move. And if all else fails, I can tap into some of my more lucrative accounts.”
“Okay. I’m counting on you to pull us through,” Rebecca said doubtfully.
“Becky. Becky. Becky. Have I ever led you astray?”
“Well, there was that one time in Brownies that...” Becky began.
“Wasn’t my fault!” Nicole waved her hand dismissively. “Nowhere in their medical forms did it say that those guerrilla troops were allergic to Fruit Loops!”
“Can we get started?” Sarah asked.
Nicole and Rebecca smiled sweetly at her.
“Thank you.”
“I thought maybe we could work on Act II Scene IV,” Matt flipped through his copy, looking for the scene.
Sarah nodded, finding the page. “Well, take it away, Benvolio and Mercutio.”
The two boys hopped up from their seats and moved to the open floor.
“Ahem!” Gelinas loudly cleared his throat while everyone rolled their eyes.
“Where the devil should this Romeo be? – Came he not home to night?” Mike demanded, easily slipping into the part of Mercutio.
“Not to his Father’s; I spoke with this man,” Billy replied quickly, shaking his head dramatically for effect.
“Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, torments him so, that he will sure run mad!” Mike grabbed a piece of pizza and took a large, violent bite out of it to reiterate his point.
“Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his father’s house,” Billy replied, pointing his cup of soda at Mike.
“Uh mhalllgemeh, mon mah mihfee,” Mike replied, nodding quite seriously.
“What?!” Matt and Sarah asked simultaneously.
Mike turned, still chewing. “Uh mhalllgmeh, mon mah mihfee,” he repeated.
“Try chewing, swallowing, then speaking,” Matt Swett offered in a somewhat sarcastic tone.
Mike did so. “A challenge, on my life.”
“Ohhhh.” The Co-directors nodded. Matt waved for them to continue.
“Romeo will answer it.” Billy sighed.
“Any man, that can write, may answer a letter.” Mike sneered.
Suddenly, the door opened letting a gust of wind blow through the room. Mike’s hat was swept from his head and onto the floor.
“Hey guys!” Hughes called, sliding inside and closing the door behind him. “Sorry I’m late.”
Mike stooped to retrieve his hat and felt a smaller gust of wind above his head followed by the sound of a sharp “twang”. Frowning, he glanced to the wall and froze. Still quivering in the wall was a sturdy arrow deeply embedded in the wall. Mike softly whimpered for a moment and then slowly turned his head. Perfume stood behind the counter, holding a large crossbow. The group gaped at her.
“I clean. It slip.” Perfume shrugged.
“Mmm, pizza!” Hughes leaned over and grabbed a slice, ravenously tearing into it.
Wednesday night rolled around and once again Boy and Girl Scouts assembled into the Church in the Acres. Sarah Porter wandered down the hall to the room Kenny and the Juniors had taken over for set construction. She was hoping to finally get a progress report from the secretive group see if they needed any materials.
Sarah reached the door and raised her hand to knock, when from behind the door a loud cranking noise sounded and was followed by the sounds of metal violently scraping against metal. Sarah jerked back, staring at the door with her mouth agape. The scraping continued for a moment and then was quiet.
Sarah slowly approached the door, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. Raising her hand once more, she knocked lightly. For a few moments there was silence, then an unintelligible conversation, and then silence once again. Sarah stared in confusion at the door, wondering what in the name of Juliette Gordon Low was going on in there.
The door before her slowly creaked open a fraction of an inch, revealing a green uniformed Girl Scout. Sarah recognized her as Kathryn Hurst, one of the girls who had been in the group since Daisy Girl Scouts. Kathryn smiled.
“Is there something I can do for you Sarah?”
“Um, hi, Kathryn.” Sarah returned the smile, somewhat curious as to why she wouldn’t open the door fully. “Can I come in? I wanted to see how the sets were coming.”
“Just a moment.” Kathryn disappeared and the door shut, leaving a very baffled Sarah in the hall.
Once again, Sarah heard a murmured conversation. After a few soft grunts of what sounded like agreement, the door once again opened and emitted Kathryn’s head.
She smiled. “I’m afraid we can’t let you in, Sarah.”
“W-why not?”
“You’re human and therefore a potential risk.”
“Excuse me?”
“Good night, Sarah!” Kathryn waved and closed the door.
“No! W-wait!” Sarah tried to stop the door with her body, but it had shut already. She stared at it in quiet shock. That hadn’t just happened, had it? she thought incredulously. The sounds of metal scraping and banging returned. For a few moments, Sarah stood there watching the door and frowning. She turned, walking slowly away and casting looks over her shoulder at the door.
Matt Atanian blinked dumbly at Sarah. “Could you repeat that?”
“I’m a potential risk.” Sarah frowned.
“A what?”
“A potential risk,” she repeated, too confused to be exasperated.
“Whoa,” Hughes said as he stopped to listen, his arms laden with costumes. “Sounds like a personal problem.”
“Bill...” Matt growled.
"Retreat! Retreat!" Hughes squeaked, backing up and fleeing in a random direction.
Sarah sighed and crossed her arms. “It would be nice to know how are sets are coming along.”
“Well, I guess it’s my turn to try,” Matt said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Right. I’m going to starting Aaron and Perry working on their duel.”
Matt stopped dead in his tracks. Duel? Aaron duel with Perry? Something in his head told him that it wasn’t a good idea. Knowing Perry, he’d use this chance to try to kill Aaron and from past experiences it would most likely fail, but still Matt couldn’t take any chances.
“Um...” Matt turned, trying to hide the panicked look on his face. “Maybe we should work on that later.”
“I think it would be best if we didn’t wait.” Sarah shook her head. “Fight scenes are complicated. We have to make sure Aaron and Perry have it perfect. It has to look natural and be safe. We don’t want anyone hurt.”
“Well, we don’t, but Perry sure wouldn’t mind it.” Matt muttered.
“What was that?” Sarah asked, looking up from her copy of the play.
“Oh, nothing. I’m going to go and talk to the guys real quick then make a quick run to check on the sets.” Matt smiled nervously and placed a hand on the nape of his neck.
“Okay.” Sarah looked around the room, spotting Perry practicing his lines. “Could you send Aaron over when you’re done?” she called over her shoulder as she headed toward Perry.
Matt didn’t respond. He was already half way across the room toward where Mike, Aaron, and the Bills were practicing their lines.
“Bad news, guys,” he said, joining him.
“Justy’s planning on running for President?” Bill Hughes snickered. The others stared at him in horror. They whipped their heads around, reassuring themselves that their infamous SPL was nowhere to be found.
“Jeez, Bill,” Aaron grumbled, “it’s a good thing he’s not around. Can you imagine what he would have done with an idea like that?”
They all shuddered at the thought.
“Sarah is having Aaron and Perry practice their duel,” Matt said quietly.
“Is she nuts?!” the three boys demanded in unison, while Aaron turned pale and gulped.
“Well, it’s not as if she knows Perry is intent on having us all six feet under! And it’s a major part of the play, we can’t put it off forever.” Matt sighed in
dismay, shrugging apologetically at Aaron.
“Would he really try something with all these girls around?” Bill Gelinas asked incredulously.
The group thought back to the Klondike Derby and nodded reluctantly. Perry certainly didn’t have any qualms about charging at them with a sword during the opening ceremony.
“I guess we’re just going to have to watch Perry real close and get him if he tries anything,” Mike responded grimly.
“Good luck. Aaron, keep your guard up. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Matt turned toward the stairwell and reluctantly walked toward the Set Room, leaving the others to protect Aaron as best they could.
When Aaron and the other Scouts joined Sarah and Perry, she was already giving Perry some pointers on his death scene.
“Try not to make it too showy,” she said.
“I die?” Perry asked, obviously disturbed.
“Yes. It’s preferred if you land with an arm outstretched or something. Makes it look more dramatic.”
“I die??”
“Yes. And if you don’t want to end up injured, I suggest you drop to a knee first and then fall over,” Sarah continued.
“I DIE?!”
“YES! Get over it!” Sarah yelled back.
“I no die! I mighty Amazon warrior!” Perry sniffed haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Not in this play.” Sarah glared at him. “You’re a pompous noble who bites the dust in Act III Scene I. Besides, Amazons are female warriors. You don’t qualify.”
“Details, details!” Perry answered, throwing his arms up.
Sarah visibly restrained herself from beating Perry to a bloody, twitching pulp. The Scouts winced, pitying their friend Matt and hoping to never feel the wrath of Sarah Porter. Sighing exasperatedly, Sarah turned and noticed the Scouts hovering close by.
“Well,” she said. “Come on. Let’s get to work on the scene.” She handed Aaron and Perry foil wrapped wooded swords and pushed them to the cleared area. “Ok, you two. We need this to be safe, but believable. Think of the Highlander movies.”
Aaron shuddered involuntary and rubbed his neck, recalling his dream during the Klondike Derby. That didn’t seem to be a problem.
“What those?” Perry asked, never having seen those films.
Sarah sighed and told Perry to just follow Aaron’s lead, countering his strikes with his own.
Mike and the Bills watched Perry with wary eyes, waiting for the Amazon to make his move. Perry couldn’t do much with a wooden sword. Then again, in light of all his past attempts, Perry couldn’t do much with a real sword either. But, they couldn’t take any chances.
Aaron grinned inwardly. He wasn’t doing so badly, but Perry’s awkwardness made him not much of an opponent. Recalling some of the less gruesome scenes from his dream, Aaron was provided with some ideas as how to proceed in kicking Perry’s arse. He brought his “sword” down in a vicious slice, aiming for Perry’s neck. The Amazon, true to his nature, parried rather clumsily and stumbled backward.
Unfortunately, Perry stumbled right into a table littered with various implements used in the making of the play’s costumes. For an instant, the table seemed to support his weight, and then the group heard a loud “crack” and the table collapsed. Perry’s weight converted the table into a catapult, flinging scissors, needles, pins, and clothing shears toward Aaron.
Mike and the Bills gasped in horror.
Then time painstakingly slowed to a mere crawl.
Aaron dropped his sword, throwing his arms up to shield his torso and head.
Mike dived for Aaron’s legs, tackling his fellow Scout to the ground and out of the path of the projectiles.
The tools thudded harmlessly against the wall, some wobbling and some cascading to the floor in a sluggish waterfall of sharpened metal.
“GRAB HIM!” Gelinas bellowed, lurching gradually toward Perry who was stumbling to his feet.
“HOLD IT, PERRY!” Hughes yelled.
“WHAT?!” Becker added.
“STOP!” Sarah screamed.
“FIGHT?!” Swett whooped.
“NO FIGHT!” Mike and Aaron shouted.
“SALSA!” Will Shmuler, appearing out of nowhere, sang.
As Hughes and Gelinas were on their way to restrain Perry, somehow a couple of pens and pencils strewn across the floor rolled under their feet. The Bills were pitched forward and slammed against Perry, causing all three to crash to the floor. Mike and Aaron rushed over, intent on putting the fray to a stop. But true to the nature of brawls, the Scout’s good intentions were disregarded and they were sucked in. Will Shmuler threw himself in, barking and growling. Matt Swett was about to scream something sarcastic to Becker when the two were suddenly grabbed by the foot and dragged into the middle.
Whether it was pure clumsiness or fate, what resulted next was something akin to a street riot smashed together with a greased pig catching contest. Body limbs, loose clothing articles (such as Mike’s hat), and furniture were knocked over and flung elsewhere. At one point, Will Shmuler was turned into a human projectile and launched across the room only to be lost within the piles of boxes and clothing scraps.
Sarah’s screams were lost on the writhing mass of bodies. Frustrated, she turned to Nicole and shouted something that was drowned out by the struggles behind her. Apparently, Nicole heard her and ran from the room. Kirsten frowned, wondering where her sister was off to. She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Nicole returned, laden with a bucket, water sloshing over the rim.
Kirsten’s heart stopped. Water. That was bad.
She whipped her head over to the boys. They were completely unaware of what Sarah, so innocently, intended to do. She grimaced and prayed her twin would forgive her.
“Those guys better appreciate this,” she muttered. Kirsten took a deep breath and threw herself at her sister, tackling the girl to the floor. The bucket of water crashed to the floor, spilling the contents. The sound of splashing water struck a chord of fear in the cursed Scouts and the brawl stopped abruptly.
“Hey.” Nicole grunted. “What was that for?”
“I, was,” Kirsten swallowed, hating herself for what she was about to say, “on my way to help and I must have slipped.” She promised herself she would make it up to Nicole someday.
“What on Earth do you think you’re doing?!” Sarah demanded of the Scouts.
“Sorry, Sarah.” Bill Gelinas smiled sheepishly. “I guess we just got too caught up in the moment.”
“Could someone get of my back?” Swett grunted. “I think my ovaries were dislodged.” No one paid Swett any attention.
“Um,” Bill Hughes waved a hand in the air while he grasped for the first excuse that happened upon him. “Trying to play our characters to the fullest extent. You know?”
“We were, uh, practicing a street brawl,” Becker added, checking to make sure his CD player was in working order.
The group blinked at Becker. The normal volume of his comment threw them off.
“Yeah! That’s it,” Mike recovered and declared dramatically, waving his arms emphatically. “We were adding to the parts, pouring the very essence of our souls into these printed words to give these characters life and existence!”
The group blinked at Mike. He could really lay it on thick.
Sarah arched an eyebrow. “Is that how it is?”
“That’s it.” The boys recovered and nodded, mumbling agreements.
“Well,” Sarah placed a hand on her hip and glared at the boys still in a mound of tangled body parts. “That’s going to be rather difficult for you, Mike, since you were just turned into human shish kebab about a page ago. And Bill,” She said, pointing at Hughes and then to Perry. “You’re on his side!”
Bill blinked and smiled nervously at Perry, who was shooting him a look that embodied the term, “If looks could kill.”
At this point in time, Matt decided to return from his errand. But he was less than reassured. He was frowning and had a disturbed glint in his eye. Catching sight of the members of the Garden Snake Patrol, he stopped abruptly and his jaw dropped.
“What happened?!”
Sarah turned, brushing a lock of red hair from her face. “We’ve been working on some scenes. It seems they have street brawling down. Did you check on the sets?”
In the background, groans and grunts could be heard as the Garden Snake Patrol untangled themselves.
“Bill! Let go of my leg!”
“OW! That’s attached!!”
“I mighty Amazon Warrior!”
“My ovaries!!”
“WHAT?!”
“Never mind.”
Matt shook his head to clear it. “I went to the room. But there was no one there.”
“What?” Sarah asked, her eyes widening.
“I found this attached to the door.” Matt handed her a small white card folded once.
Sarah took it warily, as if she was afraid it would bite. Slowly opening it, she discovered a small note, the handwriting neat and precise.
Suddenly, the serenity of the Church in the Acres was shattered as a large brown van arrived, crunching loose gravel beneath its tires. Swishing the side door open, a group of five chattering Girl Scouts, all heavily bundled up, emerged. After retrieving several large bundles from the trunk, they fled from the frigid night air into the warm building that awaited them.
Nearly half an hour later, The Church in the Acres was buzzing with activity as both Boy and Girl Scouts alike filed within to head to their respective meeting areas.
Mike Quadrozzi rushed inside, fleeing a particularly harsh gust of wind. Sighing with relief as the heat started to defrost his body, he congratulated himself on remembering to wear his pants. He glanced up and spotted most of the members of the Garden Snake Patrol and Matt Atanian talking softly in a huddled group.
“Hey guys,” Mike greeted, unconsciously adjusting his beaten red hat.
“WHAT?!” Becker replied, obviously gifted with an extensive vocabulary that went well beyond his years. The group winced, placing hands to their aching eardrums.
“Hey Mike,” Matt Atanian said, vehemently shaking his head as he attempted to rid his ears of that blasted ringing.
"I kill you,” Perry stated simply.
“Good evening, Mr. Quadrozzi,” Kenny added quietly, not looking up from his enormous book entitled The Nichomachean Ethics.
Bill Gelinas as and Matt Swett said their hellos, only to be interrupted by a very hyperactive Will Shmuler. Will jumped into the middle of their circle and threw his hands skyward.
“By the Power of Greyskull, I HAVE THE POWER!!!” he screeched at the top of his lungs (loud enough to even challenge Jon Becker). Suddenly, the young boy began shaking violently and making random, odd sounds like one might hear when pureeing a slinky in a small blender. The others continued to ignore Will even as he slowly sank to the floor, twitching and sputtering like a dying car.
“Attention, everyone!” Proctor bellowed suddenly, successfully causing everyone in the room to ignore him. “Our Lord God Yung wishes to grace us with some inspirational words.”
True to the nature of Troop 192, havoc continued to be wreaked by some of the younger boys, most of the adult leaders continued in their apathetic roles, and those troop members who actually had a desire to be involved looked on despairingly.
“Incompetent, Proctor!” Justy shrieked, spittle flying from his lips, and whapped Proctor soundly on the head with his baton. “Hear me peons, for I hold your pathetic excuses for existence within my clutches.” His beady eyes were sparkling with a fiendish light and his lip twitched to some unheard rhythm.
“My,” Matt Swett said dryly, “Justy is looking exceedingly maniacal tonight. Must be a special occasion.”
“Tonight I shall delight in further squishing the life force from the Garden Snake Patrol.”
The Garden Snake Patrol (minus the ever-tardy Hughes) sighed in dismay. Well, all except for Becker who couldn’t hear Justy anyway and Will Shmuler who was too busy kicking his legs in the air and making high pitched barks.
“The peons of the Garden Snake Patrol shall spend the next several months slaving away on their Theatre Badge in an effort to raise money for my palanquin.”
The entire Troop stared at Justy as if he had thrown on a skirt, stuck a banana in his ear, and demanded to be called Jeanette. (Of course, this look wasn’t far off from how they usually looked at him, but that’s unimportant!)
Matt Atanian’s jaw dropped several inches. SPL’s just didn’t go around assigning Patrols badges to be worked on. And further, never to raise money so that they could buy a bloody contraption to be carried around in.
“Hey guys!” a breathless and delayed Bill Hughes said in greeting. Glancing around, he found a common look of surprise mixed with horror and disbelief on the faces of his friends. “Er, what’d I miss?”
Distractedly, Aaron quickly filled him in.
“H-he can’t do that!” Hughes sputtered.
"I think he just did,” Matt Atanian said softly. He watched Justy smack Proctor’s head with his baton, emphasizing his decision on the fate of the Garden Snake Patrol.
Sarah Porter frowned and rubbed her aching temples. This wasn’t going to work.
The Pioneer Valley Girl Scout Council had decided that this was the year in which one lucky troop was to produce and perform a theatrical work in an effort to raise funds for the After School Initiative Program for Scouting. As the Fates would have it, Troop 42 was chosen for its renowned success in past fund raising events. The Council had chosen the classic (and in this author’s opinion, highly overrated but unfortunately rather useful) play, Romeo and Juliet.
Now, all she wanted to do was to delicately place a shotgun to her head and pull the trigger.
She groaned, happening to glimpse over at Kirsten and Nicole who were busy working on a patch. Her two younger sisters seemed to sense Sarah’s gaze and glanced up, smiling brilliantly. Sarah couldn’t help but return a grin. Those two were the most precious things to her on the face of the earth and she was doing this for them. That’s why she wouldn’t immediately throttle the other Adult Leaders of Troop 42 who thought it best to leave such an “honor” to a younger, more energetic leader.
Returning to the papers strewn before her, Sarah felt stress threatening to smother her once again.
Ironically enough, they had no funds with which to create a fundraiser. From a more optimistic point of view, costumes were not a problem. Troop 42 had quite a few proud parents who were more than willing to create costumes for the play. The bigger issue was the sets. A few yards of cloth were not a problem to donate; a few stacks of timber, a couple hundred nails, about twenty cans of paint, and every other thing they were in need of was an entirely different question.
And then there was the problem of the cast.
In choosing the cast, the Troop had decided to do nominations. It had turned out that Nicole was to play Juliet, Kirsten as the Nurse, Rebecca as Lady Capulet, and it had surprisingly ended there. Sarah frowned again, an expression she seemed to be wearing often these past couple of days. The three girls had been quite willing to take the parts, but no others had volunteered. It was quite obvious that they were terrified of performing on stage before an audience. Which was extremely bad. She had seven parts that were in desperate need of being filled.
What was she going to do?
What was he going to do? Matt Atanian thought grimly.
He couldn’t just let his friends suffer under Justy’s severely neurotic tyranny. Perhaps he could find support with the other Adult Leaders!
After quick mental slap upside the head, Matt returned to reality. Searching for help among the Adult Leaders would leave him with just as much progress as Napoleon had in his notorious flop in conquering Russia.
Matt’s thoughts turned grimmer. There was only one thing to do and in a complete disregard for his sanity, he made his decision. He would help the Garden Snake Patrol in anyway he could. Even if it meant his utter downfall.
The Porter sisters were brainstorming. Around them, girls worked diligently on patches, oblivious to the stress emanating from the three seated around the table full of papers and books.
“Seven parts left?” Nicole said, tapping her chin with a finger thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose I could call upon some debts to be paid.”
“Nicole,” Sarah said, fatigue evident in her features, “let’s keep things legal.”
“Oh.” Nicole frowned. “Then that will be a little more difficult.”
“Hey,” Kirsten smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I have an idea where we can get some people to fill the parts.”
Nicole and Sarah looked blankly at her, confusion playing on their faces. Suddenly, the little light bulbs in their heads went off. Nicole smiled, profits and dollar signs dancing through her head. Sarah frowned... fiercely.
“Kirsten,” she began.
“Sarah, we don’t have anyone else and besides they’re all very talented, creative, and reliable!” Kirsten suddenly stood up and looked at her sisters. “I’m going to go ask. Sarah, wipe that scowl off your face and Nicole don’t even think of trying to con those guys out of any money while they are doing us a favor!”
Kirsten turned and marched out of the room, leaving her two sisters staring after her in shock.
“Whoa.” Sarah blinked. “Was that our sister?”
“She did say, while, right?” Nicole demanded, somewhat pleadingly.
The Garden Snake Patrol and Matt Atanian were staring morosely at the floor when Kirsten found them.
“Oh my,” Kirsten said, her usually cheerful face plagued with concern. “What happened?”
“We’re doomed,” Bill Gelinas muttered.
“THIS SUCKS!!” Becker added.
“Life as we have known it has come to a bitter end.” Hughes sighed despairingly.
“We’ve been assigned to work on our Theatre Badge by the SPL in order to raise money for a litter he’s been wanting,” Mike explained.
“Theatre Badge?!” Kirsten exclaimed excitedly. “That’s great!”
“It is?” Aaron asked, confused.
“Guys.” Kirsten smiled excitedly. “Our Troop is putting on a play and we need actors. If you help us out, I’m pretty sure we can work something out with the funds.”
The melancholy mood lightened and the boys began to return to their normal states, or what could be defined as normal in their cases.
“What play is it?” Kenny asked, peeking up from his book.
“Romeo and Juliet.”
"Uh, I don’t do tights,” Matt Swett announced.
A few busy weeks passed as the Garden Snake Patrol and a core group of girls Troop 42 collaborated on a production of Romeo and Juliet.
Things had...progressed.
As the Fates (and author) would have it, the two available adult leaders, Matt and Sarah, were chosen to be Co-Directors. Many a rehearsal found Sarah muttering quietly to herself. Usually it was something to the effect of someone named, "Mr. Testosterone," and how he was no longer content with simply getting action in the kitchen, but now seemed to be aiming for getting it behind the curtain as well.
Mike’s beloved hat had once again proven useful. This time it providing a vessel from which parts, scrawled on small sheets of folded paper, were chosen. It turned out that Aaron was to play the part of Romeo, while Gelinas (the eternal declarer of the obvious) was cast as Benvolio and Mike as Mercutio. Matt Swett’s slip of paper had read Friar Lawrence. Perry had picked the part of Tybalt, nearly tearing through the worn fabric of Mike’s hat during his attempt to retrieve a paper. After soothing Mike’s hysteria and reassuring him that his hat was just fine, Becker had chosen Prince Escalus and Bill Hughes was to be cast as Paris.
Kenny had put his book down and had quietly volunteered to work on the sets. After everyone had gotten over the initial shock that Kenny had put his book down, they happily took him up on the offer. Sarah had introduced him to a small group of Juniors who had previously been working on the sets. After a few moments of whispered conversation in a small huddle, Kenny and the Juniors apparently had devised a plan and exuberantly set to work.
Now, two weeks later on a rainy Tuesday night, the Garden Snake Patrol, having cleared the tables to make room for moving about, were joyfully munching on pizza as they patiently awaited the Girl Scout Troop members for that night’s rehearsal at Perfumes Pizza.
“Hey,” Bill Gelinas frowned. “Why are we rehearsing here if Perfume wants us dead?”
“Shut-up, Bill!”
The door creaked open, jingling the little bell that hung above. Four Girl Scouts trudged through the door wearing dripping ponchos and similar expressions of extreme annoyance.
“Um, hello,” Matt ventured as Sarah Porter peeled off her poncho and plopped down beside him. Sarah blinked at him. “Right.” Matt nodded and retreated to his pepperoni pizza. Even though the two were Co-Directors, relations between them had progressed no further than an occasional civil comment relating to the play.
“Hey guys,” the ever-cheerful Kirsten greeted. The boys smiled and returned a greeting.
“Right,” Nicole was saying to Rebecca as the two sat down, “stocks in TELREX Inc. are due to shoot up again and then we should be well on our way. I’m thinking that probably next month sometime we should make our move. And if all else fails, I can tap into some of my more lucrative accounts.”
“Okay. I’m counting on you to pull us through,” Rebecca said doubtfully.
“Becky. Becky. Becky. Have I ever led you astray?”
“Well, there was that one time in Brownies that...” Becky began.
“Wasn’t my fault!” Nicole waved her hand dismissively. “Nowhere in their medical forms did it say that those guerrilla troops were allergic to Fruit Loops!”
“Can we get started?” Sarah asked.
Nicole and Rebecca smiled sweetly at her.
“Thank you.”
“I thought maybe we could work on Act II Scene IV,” Matt flipped through his copy, looking for the scene.
Sarah nodded, finding the page. “Well, take it away, Benvolio and Mercutio.”
The two boys hopped up from their seats and moved to the open floor.
“Ahem!” Gelinas loudly cleared his throat while everyone rolled their eyes.
“Where the devil should this Romeo be? – Came he not home to night?” Mike demanded, easily slipping into the part of Mercutio.
“Not to his Father’s; I spoke with this man,” Billy replied quickly, shaking his head dramatically for effect.
“Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, torments him so, that he will sure run mad!” Mike grabbed a piece of pizza and took a large, violent bite out of it to reiterate his point.
“Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his father’s house,” Billy replied, pointing his cup of soda at Mike.
“Uh mhalllgemeh, mon mah mihfee,” Mike replied, nodding quite seriously.
“What?!” Matt and Sarah asked simultaneously.
Mike turned, still chewing. “Uh mhalllgmeh, mon mah mihfee,” he repeated.
“Try chewing, swallowing, then speaking,” Matt Swett offered in a somewhat sarcastic tone.
Mike did so. “A challenge, on my life.”
“Ohhhh.” The Co-directors nodded. Matt waved for them to continue.
“Romeo will answer it.” Billy sighed.
“Any man, that can write, may answer a letter.” Mike sneered.
Suddenly, the door opened letting a gust of wind blow through the room. Mike’s hat was swept from his head and onto the floor.
“Hey guys!” Hughes called, sliding inside and closing the door behind him. “Sorry I’m late.”
Mike stooped to retrieve his hat and felt a smaller gust of wind above his head followed by the sound of a sharp “twang”. Frowning, he glanced to the wall and froze. Still quivering in the wall was a sturdy arrow deeply embedded in the wall. Mike softly whimpered for a moment and then slowly turned his head. Perfume stood behind the counter, holding a large crossbow. The group gaped at her.
“I clean. It slip.” Perfume shrugged.
“Mmm, pizza!” Hughes leaned over and grabbed a slice, ravenously tearing into it.
Wednesday night rolled around and once again Boy and Girl Scouts assembled into the Church in the Acres. Sarah Porter wandered down the hall to the room Kenny and the Juniors had taken over for set construction. She was hoping to finally get a progress report from the secretive group see if they needed any materials.
Sarah reached the door and raised her hand to knock, when from behind the door a loud cranking noise sounded and was followed by the sounds of metal violently scraping against metal. Sarah jerked back, staring at the door with her mouth agape. The scraping continued for a moment and then was quiet.
Sarah slowly approached the door, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. Raising her hand once more, she knocked lightly. For a few moments there was silence, then an unintelligible conversation, and then silence once again. Sarah stared in confusion at the door, wondering what in the name of Juliette Gordon Low was going on in there.
The door before her slowly creaked open a fraction of an inch, revealing a green uniformed Girl Scout. Sarah recognized her as Kathryn Hurst, one of the girls who had been in the group since Daisy Girl Scouts. Kathryn smiled.
“Is there something I can do for you Sarah?”
“Um, hi, Kathryn.” Sarah returned the smile, somewhat curious as to why she wouldn’t open the door fully. “Can I come in? I wanted to see how the sets were coming.”
“Just a moment.” Kathryn disappeared and the door shut, leaving a very baffled Sarah in the hall.
Once again, Sarah heard a murmured conversation. After a few soft grunts of what sounded like agreement, the door once again opened and emitted Kathryn’s head.
She smiled. “I’m afraid we can’t let you in, Sarah.”
“W-why not?”
“You’re human and therefore a potential risk.”
“Excuse me?”
“Good night, Sarah!” Kathryn waved and closed the door.
“No! W-wait!” Sarah tried to stop the door with her body, but it had shut already. She stared at it in quiet shock. That hadn’t just happened, had it? she thought incredulously. The sounds of metal scraping and banging returned. For a few moments, Sarah stood there watching the door and frowning. She turned, walking slowly away and casting looks over her shoulder at the door.
Matt Atanian blinked dumbly at Sarah. “Could you repeat that?”
“I’m a potential risk.” Sarah frowned.
“A what?”
“A potential risk,” she repeated, too confused to be exasperated.
“Whoa,” Hughes said as he stopped to listen, his arms laden with costumes. “Sounds like a personal problem.”
“Bill...” Matt growled.
"Retreat! Retreat!" Hughes squeaked, backing up and fleeing in a random direction.
Sarah sighed and crossed her arms. “It would be nice to know how are sets are coming along.”
“Well, I guess it’s my turn to try,” Matt said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Right. I’m going to starting Aaron and Perry working on their duel.”
Matt stopped dead in his tracks. Duel? Aaron duel with Perry? Something in his head told him that it wasn’t a good idea. Knowing Perry, he’d use this chance to try to kill Aaron and from past experiences it would most likely fail, but still Matt couldn’t take any chances.
“Um...” Matt turned, trying to hide the panicked look on his face. “Maybe we should work on that later.”
“I think it would be best if we didn’t wait.” Sarah shook her head. “Fight scenes are complicated. We have to make sure Aaron and Perry have it perfect. It has to look natural and be safe. We don’t want anyone hurt.”
“Well, we don’t, but Perry sure wouldn’t mind it.” Matt muttered.
“What was that?” Sarah asked, looking up from her copy of the play.
“Oh, nothing. I’m going to go and talk to the guys real quick then make a quick run to check on the sets.” Matt smiled nervously and placed a hand on the nape of his neck.
“Okay.” Sarah looked around the room, spotting Perry practicing his lines. “Could you send Aaron over when you’re done?” she called over her shoulder as she headed toward Perry.
Matt didn’t respond. He was already half way across the room toward where Mike, Aaron, and the Bills were practicing their lines.
“Bad news, guys,” he said, joining him.
“Justy’s planning on running for President?” Bill Hughes snickered. The others stared at him in horror. They whipped their heads around, reassuring themselves that their infamous SPL was nowhere to be found.
“Jeez, Bill,” Aaron grumbled, “it’s a good thing he’s not around. Can you imagine what he would have done with an idea like that?”
They all shuddered at the thought.
“Sarah is having Aaron and Perry practice their duel,” Matt said quietly.
“Is she nuts?!” the three boys demanded in unison, while Aaron turned pale and gulped.
“Well, it’s not as if she knows Perry is intent on having us all six feet under! And it’s a major part of the play, we can’t put it off forever.” Matt sighed in
dismay, shrugging apologetically at Aaron.
“Would he really try something with all these girls around?” Bill Gelinas asked incredulously.
The group thought back to the Klondike Derby and nodded reluctantly. Perry certainly didn’t have any qualms about charging at them with a sword during the opening ceremony.
“I guess we’re just going to have to watch Perry real close and get him if he tries anything,” Mike responded grimly.
“Good luck. Aaron, keep your guard up. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Matt turned toward the stairwell and reluctantly walked toward the Set Room, leaving the others to protect Aaron as best they could.
When Aaron and the other Scouts joined Sarah and Perry, she was already giving Perry some pointers on his death scene.
“Try not to make it too showy,” she said.
“I die?” Perry asked, obviously disturbed.
“Yes. It’s preferred if you land with an arm outstretched or something. Makes it look more dramatic.”
“I die??”
“Yes. And if you don’t want to end up injured, I suggest you drop to a knee first and then fall over,” Sarah continued.
“I DIE?!”
“YES! Get over it!” Sarah yelled back.
“I no die! I mighty Amazon warrior!” Perry sniffed haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Not in this play.” Sarah glared at him. “You’re a pompous noble who bites the dust in Act III Scene I. Besides, Amazons are female warriors. You don’t qualify.”
“Details, details!” Perry answered, throwing his arms up.
Sarah visibly restrained herself from beating Perry to a bloody, twitching pulp. The Scouts winced, pitying their friend Matt and hoping to never feel the wrath of Sarah Porter. Sighing exasperatedly, Sarah turned and noticed the Scouts hovering close by.
“Well,” she said. “Come on. Let’s get to work on the scene.” She handed Aaron and Perry foil wrapped wooded swords and pushed them to the cleared area. “Ok, you two. We need this to be safe, but believable. Think of the Highlander movies.”
Aaron shuddered involuntary and rubbed his neck, recalling his dream during the Klondike Derby. That didn’t seem to be a problem.
“What those?” Perry asked, never having seen those films.
Sarah sighed and told Perry to just follow Aaron’s lead, countering his strikes with his own.
Mike and the Bills watched Perry with wary eyes, waiting for the Amazon to make his move. Perry couldn’t do much with a wooden sword. Then again, in light of all his past attempts, Perry couldn’t do much with a real sword either. But, they couldn’t take any chances.
Aaron grinned inwardly. He wasn’t doing so badly, but Perry’s awkwardness made him not much of an opponent. Recalling some of the less gruesome scenes from his dream, Aaron was provided with some ideas as how to proceed in kicking Perry’s arse. He brought his “sword” down in a vicious slice, aiming for Perry’s neck. The Amazon, true to his nature, parried rather clumsily and stumbled backward.
Unfortunately, Perry stumbled right into a table littered with various implements used in the making of the play’s costumes. For an instant, the table seemed to support his weight, and then the group heard a loud “crack” and the table collapsed. Perry’s weight converted the table into a catapult, flinging scissors, needles, pins, and clothing shears toward Aaron.
Mike and the Bills gasped in horror.
Then time painstakingly slowed to a mere crawl.
Aaron dropped his sword, throwing his arms up to shield his torso and head.
Mike dived for Aaron’s legs, tackling his fellow Scout to the ground and out of the path of the projectiles.
The tools thudded harmlessly against the wall, some wobbling and some cascading to the floor in a sluggish waterfall of sharpened metal.
“GRAB HIM!” Gelinas bellowed, lurching gradually toward Perry who was stumbling to his feet.
“HOLD IT, PERRY!” Hughes yelled.
“WHAT?!” Becker added.
“STOP!” Sarah screamed.
“FIGHT?!” Swett whooped.
“NO FIGHT!” Mike and Aaron shouted.
“SALSA!” Will Shmuler, appearing out of nowhere, sang.
As Hughes and Gelinas were on their way to restrain Perry, somehow a couple of pens and pencils strewn across the floor rolled under their feet. The Bills were pitched forward and slammed against Perry, causing all three to crash to the floor. Mike and Aaron rushed over, intent on putting the fray to a stop. But true to the nature of brawls, the Scout’s good intentions were disregarded and they were sucked in. Will Shmuler threw himself in, barking and growling. Matt Swett was about to scream something sarcastic to Becker when the two were suddenly grabbed by the foot and dragged into the middle.
Whether it was pure clumsiness or fate, what resulted next was something akin to a street riot smashed together with a greased pig catching contest. Body limbs, loose clothing articles (such as Mike’s hat), and furniture were knocked over and flung elsewhere. At one point, Will Shmuler was turned into a human projectile and launched across the room only to be lost within the piles of boxes and clothing scraps.
Sarah’s screams were lost on the writhing mass of bodies. Frustrated, she turned to Nicole and shouted something that was drowned out by the struggles behind her. Apparently, Nicole heard her and ran from the room. Kirsten frowned, wondering where her sister was off to. She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Nicole returned, laden with a bucket, water sloshing over the rim.
Kirsten’s heart stopped. Water. That was bad.
She whipped her head over to the boys. They were completely unaware of what Sarah, so innocently, intended to do. She grimaced and prayed her twin would forgive her.
“Those guys better appreciate this,” she muttered. Kirsten took a deep breath and threw herself at her sister, tackling the girl to the floor. The bucket of water crashed to the floor, spilling the contents. The sound of splashing water struck a chord of fear in the cursed Scouts and the brawl stopped abruptly.
“Hey.” Nicole grunted. “What was that for?”
“I, was,” Kirsten swallowed, hating herself for what she was about to say, “on my way to help and I must have slipped.” She promised herself she would make it up to Nicole someday.
“What on Earth do you think you’re doing?!” Sarah demanded of the Scouts.
“Sorry, Sarah.” Bill Gelinas smiled sheepishly. “I guess we just got too caught up in the moment.”
“Could someone get of my back?” Swett grunted. “I think my ovaries were dislodged.” No one paid Swett any attention.
“Um,” Bill Hughes waved a hand in the air while he grasped for the first excuse that happened upon him. “Trying to play our characters to the fullest extent. You know?”
“We were, uh, practicing a street brawl,” Becker added, checking to make sure his CD player was in working order.
The group blinked at Becker. The normal volume of his comment threw them off.
“Yeah! That’s it,” Mike recovered and declared dramatically, waving his arms emphatically. “We were adding to the parts, pouring the very essence of our souls into these printed words to give these characters life and existence!”
The group blinked at Mike. He could really lay it on thick.
Sarah arched an eyebrow. “Is that how it is?”
“That’s it.” The boys recovered and nodded, mumbling agreements.
“Well,” Sarah placed a hand on her hip and glared at the boys still in a mound of tangled body parts. “That’s going to be rather difficult for you, Mike, since you were just turned into human shish kebab about a page ago. And Bill,” She said, pointing at Hughes and then to Perry. “You’re on his side!”
Bill blinked and smiled nervously at Perry, who was shooting him a look that embodied the term, “If looks could kill.”
At this point in time, Matt decided to return from his errand. But he was less than reassured. He was frowning and had a disturbed glint in his eye. Catching sight of the members of the Garden Snake Patrol, he stopped abruptly and his jaw dropped.
“What happened?!”
Sarah turned, brushing a lock of red hair from her face. “We’ve been working on some scenes. It seems they have street brawling down. Did you check on the sets?”
In the background, groans and grunts could be heard as the Garden Snake Patrol untangled themselves.
“Bill! Let go of my leg!”
“OW! That’s attached!!”
“I mighty Amazon Warrior!”
“My ovaries!!”
“WHAT?!”
“Never mind.”
Matt shook his head to clear it. “I went to the room. But there was no one there.”
“What?” Sarah asked, her eyes widening.
“I found this attached to the door.” Matt handed her a small white card folded once.
Sarah took it warily, as if she was afraid it would bite. Slowly opening it, she discovered a small note, the handwriting neat and precise.
Sarah followed Matt’s earlier example, and her jaw dropped.
“Matters to attend to on the other coast?!”
“I’m guessing it was rather urgent.” Matt shrugged.
“One problem, Matt.” Sarah sighed. “Our opening night is in three weeks.”
“Two problems,” Matt corrected her. “They took the sets with them.” Sarah’s lower lip began to tremble.
“PEONS!”
Matt and Sarah both flinched. Everyone turned to see Justy and the ever-present Proctor standing in the doorway.
“After much deliberation,” Justy said, the spittle flying from the SPL’s lips and seeming to sizzle when it hit the floor, “I’ve decided that it would be in my best interest to take this project into my own hands. I cannot allow brainless peons to ruin my plans for world domination.”
“Oh no.” Sarah moaned, covering her face with her hands.
Matt sighed in despair and wondered what he had done wrong in another life. It looked like his utter downfall was well on its way.
“Matters to attend to on the other coast?!”
“I’m guessing it was rather urgent.” Matt shrugged.
“One problem, Matt.” Sarah sighed. “Our opening night is in three weeks.”
“Two problems,” Matt corrected her. “They took the sets with them.” Sarah’s lower lip began to tremble.
“PEONS!”
Matt and Sarah both flinched. Everyone turned to see Justy and the ever-present Proctor standing in the doorway.
“After much deliberation,” Justy said, the spittle flying from the SPL’s lips and seeming to sizzle when it hit the floor, “I’ve decided that it would be in my best interest to take this project into my own hands. I cannot allow brainless peons to ruin my plans for world domination.”
“Oh no.” Sarah moaned, covering her face with her hands.
Matt sighed in despair and wondered what he had done wrong in another life. It looked like his utter downfall was well on its way.
Author's Notes
After School Initiative Program – This is an actual program we have down here in Georgia. I borrowed it and pray that The Northwest Georgia Girl Scout Council doesn’t mind. MERCY! Have mercy!!
TELRX Inc. – I have no earthly idea if a company by this name exists, I just made it up. If there is one out there... get over it. It’s just a story and there’s only a minor reference. ::mutters:: Losers.
Juliette Gordon Low – This is the illustrious founder of the Girl Scouts of America. I mean no disrespect to this remarkable woman or her descendants.
Daisy Girl Scouts – The earliest and youngest level of Girl Scouting. Ages range from 5-6. It is followed by Brownies (6 - 8), Juniors (8 - 11), Cadets (11 - 14), Seniors (14 - 17), and finely Adult Girl Scouts (17 and above).
Well, that’s it. Part 17 is done. I truly hope you like it. If not, blame it on a couple of creative teens in Welly World, a NinjaCat teamed with a Guru named Ru, 9 long years (!!!), a woman eating locker, breakfast foods protecting the universe, Al and Blarney, Super Leia & Super Elora, MINE, and a place called Afrigonia where Jungle Baboon Kings steal the panties of High Priestesses and mighty Amazon Queens punt them high into the atmosphere.
TELRX Inc. – I have no earthly idea if a company by this name exists, I just made it up. If there is one out there... get over it. It’s just a story and there’s only a minor reference. ::mutters:: Losers.
Juliette Gordon Low – This is the illustrious founder of the Girl Scouts of America. I mean no disrespect to this remarkable woman or her descendants.
Daisy Girl Scouts – The earliest and youngest level of Girl Scouting. Ages range from 5-6. It is followed by Brownies (6 - 8), Juniors (8 - 11), Cadets (11 - 14), Seniors (14 - 17), and finely Adult Girl Scouts (17 and above).
Well, that’s it. Part 17 is done. I truly hope you like it. If not, blame it on a couple of creative teens in Welly World, a NinjaCat teamed with a Guru named Ru, 9 long years (!!!), a woman eating locker, breakfast foods protecting the universe, Al and Blarney, Super Leia & Super Elora, MINE, and a place called Afrigonia where Jungle Baboon Kings steal the panties of High Priestesses and mighty Amazon Queens punt them high into the atmosphere.
Matt's Notes and Disclaimers
I cannot express to you how overjoyed I am with Part 17. It was originally to have been written by William Hughes. Unfortunately, for reasons of his own, he had to relinquish his position as this story’s author.
What was I going to do? I was busy with matters, and so was Mike.
It was shortly before all of this that I had the pleasure of meeting a lovely woman by the name of Nicole Colosimo. You may recognise the name, as it appears earlier in this story, right after the word, “by.”
Nickie came to my attention, as she was a zealous fan of Boy Scouts ½. We began chatting, and discovered many mutual interests, hopes, and dreams. Before I knew it, I was falling in love. Even before I knew I loved her, however, I felt somewhere deep inside of myself that I wanted this woman to write for me!
And so, when part 17 opened up, I asked Nickie-chan to make the transition from mere fan, over to the other side of the game. Over to the side of the writer. I was most happy when she agreed. And now that I have a complete story in my hands, I am most pleased to see that my confidence in her was not unfounded, and I eagerly look forward to her next story... Especially as I’m wondering what the hell Kenny and the Juniors are up to!
Now for the usual blah stuff... Jusenkyo curses are from Rumiko Takahashi’s Ranma ½ and are used without permission. Also, this story was written without the knowledge or consent of either the Boy Scouts of America or the Girl Scouts of America, and is not intended to reflect the values, morals, or views of either organization.
Thank you, and have a nice day.
What was I going to do? I was busy with matters, and so was Mike.
It was shortly before all of this that I had the pleasure of meeting a lovely woman by the name of Nicole Colosimo. You may recognise the name, as it appears earlier in this story, right after the word, “by.”
Nickie came to my attention, as she was a zealous fan of Boy Scouts ½. We began chatting, and discovered many mutual interests, hopes, and dreams. Before I knew it, I was falling in love. Even before I knew I loved her, however, I felt somewhere deep inside of myself that I wanted this woman to write for me!
And so, when part 17 opened up, I asked Nickie-chan to make the transition from mere fan, over to the other side of the game. Over to the side of the writer. I was most happy when she agreed. And now that I have a complete story in my hands, I am most pleased to see that my confidence in her was not unfounded, and I eagerly look forward to her next story... Especially as I’m wondering what the hell Kenny and the Juniors are up to!
Now for the usual blah stuff... Jusenkyo curses are from Rumiko Takahashi’s Ranma ½ and are used without permission. Also, this story was written without the knowledge or consent of either the Boy Scouts of America or the Girl Scouts of America, and is not intended to reflect the values, morals, or views of either organization.
Thank you, and have a nice day.