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Part 4: It's just not on by Seraphina "Now, I don�t know what you thought you were doing, roaming the streets at this time of night but it�s just not on, you hear me? It�s just not on," Mr Fidler lectured the three, although Richard in particular. "Dad, I�m sixteen! Get over it!" Richard said. He didn�t like being lectured, especially in front of his mates. "I won�t tolerate such cheek from you my boy. While you live under my roof, you abide by my rules. Got it?" Snickering could be heard coming from Tim and Paul but it was quickly silenced with one menacing glare from Richard�s father. "That�s enough from the peanut gallery thankyou. Now you two, I may not be your father but the same goes for you when you�re staying here. Do we all understand? Do we?" "Yes Dad." "Ye�sir." "YesmistaF." "I don�t need to go over it one more time? Eh?" "No Dad." "No�sir." "NomistaF." "Paul m�boy. Stop your damn mumbling and look at me so I know that you understand," Mr Fidler said sternly. Paul looked up meekly at him. "Yes Mista F." "Good stuff," Mr Fidler said, standing from �his� lounge chair. "Now if I catch you three doing this sort of thing again, I�ll tan your hides. This is Sin City lads. You can�t just muck around out there and expect to come away unscathed. Now off to bed the lot of you." He stood by as the three boys filed out of the lounge to Richard�s room. As Richard walked by him, he ruffled his hair in a fatherly way. "I suggest you get a haircut soon son before the world starts congratulating me on what a lovely daughter I have." Richard scowled and vainly tried to fix the mop up again although it had looked pretty stodgy to begin with. As Paul walked passed the older man whispered quietly to him, "You might want to do your fly up, you�re showing parts of you that I don�t want to know." An embarrassed Paul zipped himself up a little too fast and scampered out of the room to go find Richard to help with the unflattering task of rescuing li�l Paulie from it�s current and very painful situation. As Tim rushed forward, trying desperately to get out of the room without being confronted by Mr Fidler, his elder grasped him firmly by the upper arm. "Timothy, for God�s sake, go have a wash. You smell like vomit and that wet patch on your pants�it�s not a good look son." Tim sauntered off towards the bathroom, glad of this fact as a rather pained shriek from Paul came floating out from the direction of Richard�s room. "Paul, she�ll be right," came Richard�s assuring words. "I�m sure you�ll be able to father kids�in time and the bleeding is sure to stop soon�I�ve nearly freed you, just one tic�" A hair raising scream was issued before the house was silent. |
