EVERYBODY vs THE FERRET: 1
by
Cristian YoungMiller
RateABull
Books
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Published By:
RateABull Publishing
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2011 by Cristian YoungMiller
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. For information contact Cristian YoungMiller at
[email protected].
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Visit our Web site at www.RateABull.com
Book Design by Cristian YoungMiller
*****
Dedication:
To everyone that was made to feel like they were the only ones doing it.
*****
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
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EVERYBODY vs THE FERRET: 1
*****
Chapter 1
“It’s a box! The secret of their power is a box. We’ve got to steal their box!”
A 10-year-old Candy looks up from her file at Odessa, a classmate and foot soldier in their ongoing war of “boys against girls.” Candy focuses her keen mind on Odessa’s face. Odessa’s twitching eyes and the bruise mark on her orange head tells Candy that her comrade had been through a lot.
“By the way, you did a good job. When we rule the school, there will be a lunch day named after you. It will be called Becky’s Lunch Day.”
“My name is Odessa,” she replied.
Candy examined the countenance of her orange-headed friend, looking for signs of a challenge to her authority. “From now on your name will be Becky. Do we have a problem with that?” Candy delivered with no hint of a smile.
“No, Candy,” Becky said, struggling to keep it together in front of her commander.
“Good,” Candy said relaxing. “Now, I have to get this intel to the girls. And soon our plan can begin. You’re dismissed, soldier,” Candy said turning to Becky.
Without a word, Becky walks out.
Alone, Candy looks around at her rainbow and unicorn themed room. She steps in front of the mirror and stares at what she sees. Candy turns her strawberry head and examines the surface seeds that look like freckles on her pretty, slender face. She reaches up and adjusts her leaves, which she has tied in a bun with the ends wispily to the right slightly above her shoulders. And she brushes her red polka-dot summer dress, which highlights her red, high-top Chuck Taylor tennis.
“Ok Candy,” she says to the image in the mirror. “If you want to rule the school, no one’s gonna give it to you. You’re gonna have to work!”
Candy reaches down and retrieves her MP3 player. With the buds in her ears, she reaches down to get a sheet of scratch ’n sniff stickers. She looks for the one of the Jonas brothers. She scratches it really hard and takes a very deep inhale. She then again looks at herself in the mirror. She looks much more alert.
“It smells like rainbows.” She examines herself again in the mirror. “Let’s do this.”
Candy hits play on her MP3 player, and her theme song starts.
‘I have one thing to say. You better work.’
The music interlude for Ru Paul’s “Supermodel” plays and Candy bops to the beat. She leaves her room and runs down the stairs.
“Mom, I’m gonna use the basement,” Candy says to whoever’s listening.
“OK, dear,” Candy’s mom yells back from another room.
Candy runs down the basement stairs and takes a look at her orange and brown shag palace.
‘You better work; Cover girl. Work it girl; Do a twirl. Do your thing on the runway.’
Candy bobs around the shag palace turning it into her command center. She turns to the camera, fashion model style, and twirls on cue.
‘Better work; Supermodel. Work it girl; Of the world. Wet your lips and make love to the camera.’
During the musical interlude, Candy goes to the “Hang in There” kitty poster on the wall and replaces it with a “Hang in There” kitty poster where the kitty is wearing an army helmet. She then pushes out all of the furniture in the room and replaces it with a 50-inch touchscreen monitor and 3D holographic topographic display table.
‘Work.’
She turns to the left.
‘Work.’
She turns to the right.
‘Sashay santé.’
Within another musical interlude, she whips out her super-fancy cell phone and one-touch connects with her friends. “Girls, it’s meeting time.”
‘Sashay santé.’
Candy puts on her pink bedazzled army helmet and posses in front of her work for the paparazzi to get a photo.
‘You better work!’
The song ends.
Candy, wearing her army helmet, carries a laser pointer and paces back and forth in front of her two troops. Tia is a cool girl of mixed ethnicity who has an Asian pear for a head. She wears a red baby doll dress with pink trim and a tight collar. Molly is a slightly overweight, less attractive girl with a raspberry for a head. And even though she is also 10 years old, she is deep into puberty, and her aqua dress with yellow flowers shows it off.
“All right girls, we are about to embark on the greatest mission of our lives,” Candy begins.
“Is it spelunking?” Tia asks.
“No, it’s not spelunking. What’s spelunking?” Candy asks distracted.
“It’s when you explore a cave,” Tia explains.
“Are we exploring a cave?” Molly asks. “My mom says caves are where boys go to play with dead cats. I’m not allowed to play with dead cats anymore.”
“No, we aren’t going caving,” Candy says.
“Are we going tobogganing down the Swiss Alps on fresh powder at the crack of dawn?” Tia asks.
“My mom said that I’m not allowed to go tobogganing anymore,” Molly says. She lowers her head. “It’s because of the dead cats.”
“No, we’re not going tobogganing,” Candy says, a little frustrated.
“Then this hardly seems like the greatest adventure of our lives.”
“What? No, we’re gonna take over the school.”
“Is there base jumping involved?”
“Are there dead cats?”
“Ladies, there is no base jumping and no dead cats. By the way, Molly, whaaa?” Candy gives Molly a ‘what is up with the dead cats?’ look. “No, this is about the boys. Aren’t you tired of watching them march around the school like they own the place? They’re bumping us and pushing us like we’re nothing—nothing, ladies. Don’t you want to make things right? Don’t you want us to have the power, and not those few knuckle-dragging cavemen?”
Tia is about to speak, but Candy cuts her off, “There’s still no spelunking Tia.”
Tia sits back disappointed.
“I want to rule the school,” Molly said meekly.
“As you should. It is our right as the smarter species to be in control, and I plan to get it for us. Now, Becky sacrificed a lot to get us this intel.”
Tia leans over to Molly. “Who’s Becky?”
Becky, having returned home,
sits in a corner of her bedroom holding her knees and rocking back and forth. She has a traumatized look on her face. She mutters to herself expressing post-traumatic shock.
“So much professional wrestling. So much farting.”
Molly leans toward Tia, “I think Becky’s the one with the laser pointer.”
Tia gives Molly a questioning look. “That’s Candy. Is there something wrong with you?”
Molly lowers her head again. “I’m thinking about the dead cats.”
Tia leans away and turns back to Candy.
Candy meanwhile is pinching and pulling pictures up on her touchscreen monitor.
“Here’s what we’ve found to be the source of the boys’ power.”
An image appears on the screen.
“It’s a box,” Tia points out.
Candy spins around and faces Tia. “Exactly. And the intel says that they keep it here.” Candy faces the monitor. “Computer: enhance.”
The image on the screen spins and expands until the box pixilates and reappears as a picture of a boy’s crotch.
“It’s a boy’s pants,” Tia clarifies.
“Exactly, they keep their box in their pants. It’s the perfect hiding spot. Who would think to keep something so valuable in there? It’s diabolical. And from what we gather, the box is somewhere between the size of a pimple and little man with a mustache. This is a sketch. Computer: enhance.”
On the screen appears a jack-in-the-box wearing a fake mustache.
“Creepy,” Tia acknowledges.
“Yes, creepy,” Candy agrees. “So here is the mission, if you choose to accept it: it’s to infiltrate the boys, get them to show us their box, and when they’re not looking, steal it. Then we’ll rule the school.”
Candy chuckles at the sound of her plan. As she thinks more, she laughs harder until it is a full-on mad scientist laugh. Molly and Tia look at Candy, concerned.
“Girl, you seriously gotta cut back on your scratch ’n sniff,” Molly advises.
Candy looks at Molly, wondering how much she knows. Before her Jonas brothers, rainbow-laced paranoia can set in, she looks away. “I’m back.”
Candy turns to the monitor and pulls images out of an electronic folder. “Here are our targets.” Stepping away from the monitor, Candy presses a button on her laser pointer. An electronic picture of Billy pops up.
Billy is a 10-year-old boy with a red delicious apple for a head. Candy points her laser at the image.
“Billy, aka Billy Apple. We all know this one. He’s the charismatic ring leader of the devious bunch. He’s crafty, smart and cannot be trusted.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think he’s kind of dreamy,” Tia says with a smile.
“…cannot be trusted,” Candy repeats with a stern look at Tia. “Next is Jack, aka Jack Banana. He’s slippery, he’s quick and a master of words. Don’t get into it with this one ladies because you will lose. Do you hear me? Lose!”
“Last up is Sandy, aka Sandy Grapes, aka Knuckles, aka My Bad. I don’t know what the last nickname is for, but Becky said that he’s lethal. If you find yourself going up against that one, you walk away. Do you hear me? I’m not losing another soldier in this war.” Candy looks off into the distance. “Not one more.”
Still in the corner of her room, Becky lets out another haunted utterance. “SO MUCH FARTING!”
Tia and Molly look at each other seeing if the other knows what Candy is talking about. Neither does.
“Question,” Tia interrupts. “I don’t think Billy has a box.”
“That’s not a question,” Candy points out. “What’s your question?”
Tia continues. “The question is, have you gone mad?”
“I have not.”
“I have a follow-up question,” Tia adds.
“Yes, Tia?”
“Seriously, have you gone mad?”
“Was Joan of Arc mad when she rushed toward the English leading the French to victory?”
“Many accounts say she was,” Tia confirms.
“State your case,” Candy says, yielding the floor.
“I have seen Billy in swim trunks. There’s nothing in there,” Tia says.
“Yeah I’ve seen it too,” Molly adds. “There’s nothing there.”
“Yeah, I mean wet, dry… there couldn’t be less there if you took him and grated him on a cheese grater and then sanded him down to his core. I mean there’s nothing there.”
“Yeah, there’s nothing there,” Molly confirms.
A mile away, Billy Apple, Jack Banana and Sandy Grapes sit in a circle in a tree house by a lake. Billy, who was talking, stops like he has gotten a psychic impression. The other boys look at him.
“What’s the matter, Billy,” Jack asks.
“I’m not sure, but I think a part of me has just died inside.”
The other two boys stare at Billy in fear.
Candy reclaims the floor and turns to Tia, “I think you’re letting your feelings for him cloud your judgment. He’s a boy; they all have a box. And if we don’t take their boxes from them now, they always will. We need that box girls. If not for ourselves, then for girls everywhere. This is a battle for more than just us three. It’s for girl-dom. It is for the girls of the world.”
“I’m not sure, but to me this seems like some sort of box envy,” Tia decides.
“Or is it a conspiracy. Tell me, do you have a box?” Candy asks the two girls.
“My Girl Scout leader told me that I have a box,” Molly offered.
“No you don’t. And you know how I know? Because we’re all girls. Our parents neglected to give us one, ladies. So now if we want one, we’re gonna have to take it on our own.”
Candy turns back to the monitor. She opens electronic files on each of the girls in the room and then uses her laser pointer remote.
“Now, my code name will be Strawberry. Molly, you will be Raspberry. And Tia, you will beeee...”
Candy stops and both she and Molly stare at Tia waiting for a reply.
“I’m an Asian pear!”
“My mom said that I should not use that word. She says Asian is a type of rug.”
“OK, Tia. I’ve known you for a long time. Let’s settle this. Are you more apple or are you more pear?”
“That’s it. I’m not gonna be a part of this. And you know what?” she says, sounding like a hip black girl, “I’m out. PEACE!”
Tia leaves the clubhouse.
Candy watches Tia leave. “She looks like an apple, but inside she’s all pear.”
*****
Chapter 2