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Monthly Archives: August 2005

Boboli

Mother Figure sighs before the report card’s even open. “Oh,” she says. “I thought the tutors were helping.”

“But they are!” Boboli tugs at the card above the ST OMÖJLIGS SCHOOL OF STOCK seal. “I did fine in Background Noise and Dying, and I got four archetypes this term–”

“Sure, sweetie, but you know what’s bringing your average down.” She taps him on the head with the card.

“I hate Henchmanship,” he mumbles, but he likes it, really. Likes it so much he has to keep failing. He’s afraid what it’ll mean about him, if he shows how good he is.

Fern

“Hey, F-bomb, you left your Discman on,” says Trudy, and reaches for it.

“Don’t,” says Fern. “I’m starving the batteries.”

“Ah ha. That’ll teach them!”

“Yeah.” Fern grins. “No. I like vinyl better than plastic because it sounds warm instead of sharp. I can’t carry a turntable around, so I work the batteries until the headphones get all fuzzy.”

“That’s not warmth, goofball.” Trudy taps the Discman’s cover. “That’s noise. You can’t tell the difference?”

“There isn’t a difference.” says Fern. “Ask a physicist. Warmth is noise.”

“Then why not just wear crappy headphones?”

“I do,” she says, “I do.”

Al

Al backflips the squad car. They land in a wheelie and scream off the wrong way down the street, dodging commuters.

Porter grabs her collar as they roar around a corner; a second later somebody punches the shit out of the hood, and they crash out through the roof. She grabs the streetlight. It bends but stays up, and Porter keeps his grip on her shirt. The radio he ripped from the dash is burbling.

“Think fast,” he mutters, dangling, looking down at the people taking up Crane Stance. “The cops are onto us, and this is a kung fu crowd!”

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