I guess you could say that the evening started out kid of... I dunno... weird. Not oddly so, but the chickens had more teeth than usual, my synthetic wig had a lot more legs than usual... And perhaps the strangest of things to occur that evening was the burning of my much-prized spinach puffs. But I'm sure you know, as well as I do, that there is one night in the year when the veil between worlds is thinnest... Spirits are said to come and cause havoc among the living... You know what night I'm talking about, The Witches's New Year; or in layman's terms: All Guy Fawkes Eve.
This year I was spending my Guy Fawkes at Sophie's house. House is an understatement. If I could call it anything, I would call it "Malibu Sophie's Cottage Dream House," but for the sake of my much reputed reputation, I never told Sophie this. In fact, whenever Sophie and I would talk about her house, I cleverly disguised my love for her candy coated house of delight by calling it "the Crap Shack." Sure, sometimes Sophie's eyes would tear in false pain when I said this, but I could tell deep down inside she thought it was a pretty funny joke.
Sophie and I sat on her majestic balcony, watching the elder males dance about lighting firework after firework, in a primal sort of way, looking to the females for praise as if they'd just then invented fire. I admit, the fireworks - like anything that makes a loud noise and looks shiny would - kept me entertained for a short while. However, after watching a few fireworks explode, I went back to my usual past time of flicking through Leigh's diary and changing the words. For example "but" easily becomes "butt", masculine names can be gender re-assigned to "Hooties McBoobs", with some creative writing "Hand," can me turned into "the haggard zombie claws of Jill Usher" and my all-time favourite, changing "Hello," to "WATCH OUT FOR NAZIS!" To spice things up, I would occasionally act out one of the passages for Sophie in a shrill, nasal impersonation of Leigh - of course I would also flail my arms slightly to insinuate Leigh had limited control over her bodily appendages.
Sophie let out a huge yawn, then said in a classically whiny voice, not unlike the British belly-achings of Hugh Grant, "Victoria, you aren't even paying attention, or talking to me. You've been writing in that damn book all night."
"Aw, c'mon," I said soothingly. "Who's my cup-cake?"
She looked exasperated, then said a little bashfully, "...I am." She proceeded to tell me, "Look, if you're bored let's go inside and watch t.v."
To me, the sitting and watching part of t.v. sounded good, but the getting up and walking part... Well, let's just say it made me lust for death. Nonetheless, it was either that or sit and listen to Sophie ponder loudly over whether her brother and his friend sitting under a bush together in the dark was kind of... I don't know... Gay. Wait, that was a way better option... I should have done that. Aw man.
As we walked to Sophie's luxurious lounge I continued to write in Leigh's dream journal, oh sorry, "diary", and tried to ignore Sophie's pointless ramblings.
"AH! Hey, Victoria," she whinged, "Did my curtains used to be waterfalls."
"Yeah..." I said absentmindedly.
"You sure?" She questioned.
"Yes," I said curtly.
"Well... okay, but did the bricks on my mantle-piece always move about like that?"
"Uh-huh," I replied, starting to get agitated by her desperate attempts to grab my attention.
"Was my lamp a monkey's claw before..." She said, with what almost seemed like fear in her voice. But fortunately, I knew better and saw through her little rouse.
"Yes, yes, and for the last time YES!" I screamed at her. "There," I pointed to her chairs. "Those are your chairs that are always on fire, that's your glass rug, and right there," I said pointing violently at the lamp. "That's your favourite - and mine - monkey-hand-lamp. Now no more of that false amnesia crap or I will stab you with my fists!"
I went back to Leigh's diary, and upon finding a particularly funny passage, I decided to read it out to Sophie, ya know, to lighten the mood. "Haha," I began. "Listen to Leigh the other day at school. 'It's not leviOsa, it's leviosAR!' ...What a sad!"
I looked up at Sophie and she was still wearing an unpleasant scowl, evidently still touchy about my stabbing threat. "Ever been in a situation," she said angrily, "when someone does a really stupid thing, and then the other person doesn't point it out because they don't want to be mean. Then the first person keeps doing the stupid thing over and over again but the second person can't say anything AGAIN because it would just seem awkward after not mentioning it the first time, and then leaving it for so long?"
I stared at her for a good long time, then trying to calm her down replied, "What the hell are you babbling about ye pantaloon wearin' sissy?"
Her eyes narrowed on me like a lawyer's upon the freshly wounded. She then said nastily to me, "You know that's not Leigh's diary you're reading... it's Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone."
I laughed superiorly, "No, I don't think you'll find that it is, it's..." I flicked the book shut to look at the front cover, "...Well, I'll be damned. Imagine that, eh? Harry Potter."
She smiled and nodded. "I would have said something earlier, but....ya know. Anyway, now that you don't wanna write in that thing anymo-"
At this point I stopped listening and went back to writing in the book. Haha, butt where. I was drawn out of my entranced state by a Sophie's high pitched squeal. At first I assumed she had found yet another thing to be annoyed at me for, but upon glancing up I saw her lounge was filled with red demonic looking men. One stepped forward towards me and said, "Oh will you?"
This was a little awkward, considering all he was wearing was a loin-cloth, and we hadn't been introduced by a mutual acquaintance, nonetheless, I said, "Will I what?"
"Be damned," He replied, and then lunged towards me, hands like the zombie claws of ex principal Jill Usher, outstretched and hankerin' for my brain-meats.
I jumped backwards, dodging his red grabby little hands, and cried "FRESH!" I look around desperately for Sophie's help, but all I spied was a flash of blonde hair high-tailing it out of there. Well that was just fine with me. I would just have to rely on my brute strength to pull me out of this situation. Somehow that seemed innately funny even as the word formulated in my brain, but it wasn't in my vocabulary to give up. Well it was, but it was probably spelled wrong.
One demon edged towards me, and with one stab sized fist I punched out at him, and hit nothing but solid air. He looked a little confused, and I used this to my advantage by balling my right fist and swinging out with all my might. The punch missed spectacularly! And the momentum of the punch caused to me spin around and fall on my face. I lay on the ground -defeated by the heat of battle- and realised that it wasn't so bad. Then I had an epiphany; death would probably be pleasantly similar to this, so why get up? If I was wrong, well hey, at least I didn't have to get up.
The demons clustered around me, then one said, "What the hell was that?" Another said, "I dunno, let's just kick her some more."
One red foot shot into my gut, followed by another and another. Then I was hit by another epiphany (not to mention another foot); what if death was more like this? Being kicked repeatedly in the stomach by little red men? Well I wasn't taking it lying down!... Obviously in a metaphorical sense, as I very much was taking the beating lying down. I decided to be a man for once, and to take action! I screamed with all my might, "COURTNEY!!!!" Followed curtly by "Let go of my purse! I don't know you!"
The mantle-piece started to make strange buzzing noises, and the bricks shifted to form a large gap which led into a bright white light. I squinted my eyes and saw Courtney shoot out of the mantle piece, wielding a bottle of Malt Whiskey (only the maltiest would suffice).
She looked around a little confused, or perhaps just a little drunk. "Jebus!" She said still stunned, "What in Great Oden's Beard is going on here?"
At this point she looked down and saw me curled into the foetus position on the floor, still surrounded by the mean little men.
"HEY!" She yelled at them. "You aren't allowed to beat up Tori! Only I may do that!... And occasionally Leigh, but let's face it, Leigh punches like a girl." The demons shifted uneasily about, unsure of what Courtney was about to do.
From my huddle on the floor, I remembered my cue and murmured, "Yeah, she punches like me."
In an almost calm voice Courtney said, "Well I don't mind you beating up Tori... but I'm afraid the boys have got a temper," She said while flexing her arms. "And they've been drinking all day!"
She smashed her whiskey bottle over the closest demon's head. He staggered a little and with one swift kick she knocked him on the ground, where he just disappeared. She turned around, ready to face her next opponent, when the leader of the group said, "Courtney... Courtney is that you?"
Courtney looked at him, then casually said, "Oh hey Beelzebub. Sup?"
"Oh, not a lot. Just taking care of some mandatory business... Ya know, I had an inkling you might have had something to do with all this, " He said, gesturing to Sophie's lounge room. "Would I be right in saying so?" The demon guy actually looked pretty excited now, Courtney seemed to be some kind of star to him, and it looked as though he was about to ask for her autograph any minute now.
Courtney laughed flirtatiously with this 'Beelzebub ' character, and said "Well, yeah. But enough of this. Beating up tori? Not cool Beelzebub, not cool at all. I don't know what kind of crazy shit she's done, but couldn't we just for get this whole mess..." She swished her hair just a little and smiled coyly , "For me?"
At this point I heard the mantle-piece re-arranging again, I saw a flicker of white out of the corner of my eye, and by the time I had turned around, Leigh was lying on the floor looking as confused as Ashton Kutcher in a serious film. She coughed and three bats, and then one other bat flew out her mouth.
Mr. Beelzebub completely ignored this distraction, and if he wasn't so red in complexion, I would have accused him of blushing. "Well... for you..." With that he and his demonic crew started to dissolve into thin air, until I was in the company of only Leigh and Courtney. They both walked over and stared down at me as I tried to look comfortable and also casual lying on the glass rug.
I decided to break the silence, "Only on Guy Fawkes Eve, eh? You guys wanna get a pizza?"
"No," Leigh said directed at Courtney. " I know what you're thinking, and as funny as it would be to make Tori think this is all happening due to Guy Fawkes, we just don't have the time."
Courtney shrugged and walked behind Leigh to examine the mantle piece.
"Right, this story is pretty weird, so try to keep and open mind" Leigh started, however, I was slightly distracted as I soon realised Courtney had moved behind Leigh so as to hilariously mime what she was saying. I tried to keep a straight face through the arm flailing and face pulling, but it almost killed me.
Leigh continued, "Courtney thought of a way to cause a break in the space-time continuum, and we tried to do some stuff... but that just made things worse. Now we have all kinds of crazy shit happening and we were hoping you could think of a way to fix it- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?! This is serious!!!"
Leigh's indignant rage just made me laugh more! Or rather, Courtney's interpretation of Leigh's indignant rage just made me laugh more. I tried to shut my eyes so I could think, but the arm flailing was so spectacular it had been burned into my memory.
I heard a thunk noise, and upon opening my eyes I saw Leigh had dropped down onto the glass rug with her hands outstretched towards me, ready for a-stranglin'. Since she looked very close to causing me physical harm, I quickly gathered my wits and said, "I think I have a plan."
Leigh looked very relieved and said, "What do you need us to do?"
"Well," I continued, "It solely relies on the ability for us to do something impossible in a normally stable multiverse..." I turned to Courtney, "Do you think the instability of the multiverse will be severe enough to pull through a character from a novel?"
I heard the sound of Leigh slapping her own forehead. "You two are so stupid! And together you're one stupid entity that can't function in normal society!"
"Heh," Courtney laughed, "Two stupid people... we're two-pid."
We both laughed, then casually high-fived. However, Courtney soon put laughter aside and asked me seriously, "Who did you need to pull out of literature?... And for what purpose?"
"Well, this is OBVIOUSLY a great mystery to be solved," I replied. "I can't figure out all by myself how to stabilise the multiverse... that's why I need.... Sherlock Holmes and his side kick to help me solve this problem."
Before either of them had time to lavish praise upon my for my giant brain muscles, the mantle piece re-arranged again, and this time a small dog was spat out.... My brain however, works faster than the average homo-sapiens, and I quickly deduced that this wasn't any dog. Oh-no. This was Watson, Sherlock Holmes' dog, AND side kick.
"Watson!" I cried and picked up the tiny little dog.
"Hey!" the dog barked at me. Get it? GET IT?! Barked, as in he's a dog yelling. AHAHAHA.
"Take you're hands off me you damn dirty ape!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. Watson," I replied extremely contritely, and gently dropped him on the ground.
"Tori," Leigh addressed me in a very un-impressed way, "That's not Watson. For one, Watson's not a dog, he's a man. Secondly, that's Vegie."
I suddenly became very alarmed. The multiverse seemed to be causing Leigh's brain to malfunction. Watson... a person? I didn't think so.... after all, I had seen the T.V show. And thinking a dog was a vegetable... "Oh LEIGH! Your beautiful brain is losing it's smarts!"
Thee was no time to waste, I kneeled down to Watson and said, "Quick Watson! Find Sherlock! Find 'im boy!"
Watson turned to Courtney and asked, "Is Leigh's sister... special?"
"She suuuure is!" Courtney replied, and our conversation was ended buy another visitor being tossed out from the mantle-piece. I quickly put two and two together, deducing that this fellow was, "SHERLOCK HOLMES!" I cried out.
"...kill me..." Leigh muttered, and I knew why. She must be feeling pretty crap about her whole 'that's not Watson and Sherlock Holmes isn't coming' idea.
"Sup Cam?" Courtney questioned, but to whom I wasn't sure.
"Mr. Holmes, Victoria McLennon at your service, Sir!" I shouted, and this is when I knew my evening was starting to look up.
I glanced at Leigh, only to find her eye-twitching - most likely in embarrassment. "Victoria, you barely hominoid, milk-fed gimp! This is Cam, my friend from Australia-"
"Pfff!" I cut in. "You don't have any friends."
"HEY!" Leigh yelled, and leapt for me with lightning fast reflexes.
"AH! MR. HOLMES, HELP ME!" I cried. For some odd, odd reason, this only angered her further.
Leigh let go of my hair and let me fall onto the floor. She stood threateningly above me and said very slowly, "Sherlock Holmes doesn't' exist, Victoria. He's a fictional character. This is Cam from Australia."
"Leigh," I said, trying to stifle my laughter. "I think you're still a little confused. Sherlock Holmes is real, but his occupation is fictional. You know how they say he's a "detective". Detectives are just like fairies, or goblins, or gypsies. But obviously Sherlock Holmes is real, 'cos he's standing right in front of you."
"Can't argue with that," Sherlock said as walked back from Sophie's kitchen with a beer in his hand."
"Sherlock Holmes isn't real!" Leigh screeched once more back at me.
"STOP SAYING THAT!" I yelled back. "With the multiverse in such a state, saying statements like that might just make him snap right back from wherever he came!"
Leigh shook her head in disbelief. "He would go back to Australia, because that's where he came from."
"Bu-" I started to say before Leigh cut in.
"He isn't real!"
"CAM ISN'T REAL!" I yelled back to give Leigh a taste of her own medicine. There was a distinct "pop" noise, and I looked back to see Sherlock Holmes had disappeared.
"Oh, nice one, Leigh!" I said, dripping with sarcasm. "All your talk of Saint Sherlock being fictional made him disappear. I hope you're happy! Now I have to make this machine on my own!" Then I muttered not so secretly, "God knows I've carried this group since the beginning."
I stormed off to Sophie's room to start planning, and behind me I could hear Leigh and Courtney's typical, old-married couple styled bickering.
"Now look what you've done! You've gone and hurt her feelings, would it have killed you to have just let her believe in it for just one evening."
"For god sakes, Courtney! You let her live in a dream world! You should have backed me up back there! You always leave me to be the mean one, the ogre!...."
Their voices trailed off as I shut Sophie's door. Then, I began to wonder... how, exactly, had they arrived in Sophie's lounge....
TO BE PREQUELLED.