Chapter 8 - A Susanne Wilkins' Production
Things looked bad for the girls. Running to the nearest alley, they huddled together to tape up ankles, and mend their bruised dignity, scraped Heathers, and various other cane and limb related injuries. The girls slipped sliently down the alley looking for a way out without confronting another group of elderly, yet wiry antagonists.
At last they came to a fire escape ladder and climbed into the nearest apartment window. It was dark inside, and Susanne imagined that Escaping from the Hospital by the Beastie Boys was playing as background music because it's the perfect song for sneaking through a stranger's apartment with friends to. She went on to think that it was strange that some Beastie Boys songs were really good, and others she could not even listen to without wanting to die. This train of thought slowly took on all of her attention, trying to find exactly what it was about rap that repulsed her and yet still made her head bop up and down ever so slightly, until she smashed into an end table, a lamp, and finally the coat rack. She just didn't see it there, and everyone understood (sort of) but that didn't help the fact that waking up noises were coming from the bedroom down the hall.
A light flicked on, showing faded, flowery wall paper and several hanging pictures of birds. A door slowly swung ajar and into the hall stepped a withered, old prune with the deadliest of any weapon yet to be unleashed upon the Teen Girl Squad: GUILT! They had woken her up!! Insides writhering, and reeling with the pain of guilt, the girls could only avert their guilty gaze from the old woman scolding them until Heather, remembering her super door kicking down powers, screamed (from her diaphram for maximum projection) and kicked through the door which flew open but stopped short with a loud THWACK! Someone yelled, "OW!" from the other side and landed in a helpless ball. The girls were concerned for a minute, but the man was clearly getting on in years so perhaps it was for the best. But what was another old person doing in this building? Had they tracked down the girls and were in the slow but certain act of storming the building? No, things were much worse! The subtle decor of pastels and wicker furniture was making it painfully clear that the Teen Girl Squad was in fact standing in one of the new retirement homes! Terror shook their very beings, and thinking nothing of perserving their ultra-chic images, the girls screamed bloody murder and ran for their lives.
The biggest problem facing the squad was now clear to all. There was no resisting the powers of the elderly, who were still as numerous as their never ending stories, and this is because the girls, while trained in all the coolest and deadliest arts, were still above all pretty good girls who didn't really have anything besides loud music and fashion sense (common youthful tendancies) that posed any threat to the elderly at all. They would have to look outside themselves for help if there was to be any chance of saving the day. But what other groups were there that were large enough, and threating enough to take down such a gang of haughty, high-haired humans?
Alison suggested they start at the skate park, which they were closest too, but the skaters (pronounced "sk8rz") were already hiding under the ramps to protect themselves from the painful shock of seeing anyone with pants higher than their knees.
They continued to Zazu to question the preps, but they were all whimpering under their ridiculously tiny, hardly functional purses and refused to leave at the risk of having their hair ruffled.
The TGS thought they might ask the "emo" kids next, but were not suprised to discover that this steryotype is actually impossible and does not exist. Deal with it.
Emily, who was sitting on the curb in deep thought, suddenly felt a slight quivering in the ground with her ultra sensitive butt. They slowly all became aware of the booming base of an approaching car, their que to stand in a close circle on the sidewalk to show that they were all together as a couple of wiggers bounced up in a low, red car with giant speakers.
The car slowed down to study the girls, who huddled just a little closer and furrowed their brows at the boys in the car. There was a moment of tension as the car continued to be slowed down, until Susanne gave them a little half knod, which they returned with a half knod and a half smile and sped off down the street.
"HEY!" said Heather, who had just realised something very important, "Have you noticed something? The wiggers are the only other people besides us who seem at all unafftected by nap time at all!"
"Ya, old people hate wiggers. No duh." said Alison who was certainly not portrayed as the dumb one at all.
"Susanne, " said Emily turning to Heather, and was confused for a second but then saw that Susanne was actually on the other side of her, "What did you just do to get rid of them?"
Susanne changed her stance to more of an explanitory pose, and let the girls in on the secret art of body language, "I dunno." she said, and every one understood perfectly.
They jumped on their scooters and set out for the nearby village of Wiggeria (aka. Hastings) which Susanne had lived in all her life. It was clear that she could communicate with them, having lived among them always, but luckily had never become one thanks to the timely transition from public to highschool. She was slightly proud of this ability, but mostly just reluctant to admit it. Still she decided for the greater grood that it was time to set aside these feelings of resentment towards old friends and save some C-ford the old skool way.
The girls rolled into village looking here and there for signs of their secret hidden lair, the location of which Susanne had long forgotten. The cubby hole? No... The tree? Not there either. Dan's parking lot? No, he hates wiggers... ...and that's where Susanne and Kate hang out.
At last the girls rolled along one of those main streets that Susanne has never learned the name of even though she has lived there her whole life (and there are not that many streets to know the names of) and it struck her that the obvious place for wiggers to chill would be the gazeebo! It was a prime location what with all that space to carve words like, "Dawg" and "Yo momma" in pointy letters that overlap to the point that no one can read it anyway. The girls prepared themselves for the communication exersize of a life time by shaking out their limbs, and streching into various poses such as the Pigeon. Strutting onto the gazeebo, resisting peer pressure, and throwing their arms around like they just didn't care, the TGS approached King Wigger to state their case. Wiggers on every side quieted down as they passed, but since the girls showed no sign of feeling out of place they did nothing about it, looking to the king for signs of disapproval. Tension mounted, and an awed hush settled over the crowded gazeebo. The king's head tilted towards the girls. Susanne stepped forward, and chewed her bottom lip for a moment.
"Yo dawg, I say me an ma shorties all up in heearr, an we all goin' crazy town on this ya know what I'm sayin madness, I'm saying madness and I'm all tripped out, heeear??"
The king lifted his chin and stared down to the girls.
"T'sup?" he inquired.
Breathing a short sigh of relief, Susanne continued her story. Heads bopped furiously on each side as the tale of the elderly unfolded for the wiggers, and at last there was nothing left to say. All eyes were on the king who had only to say one word that may mean the begining, or the end for the Teen Girl Squad...
"Fo' sho'." he knodded.
"Fo' sho'!" answered the wiggers.
It was really happening. The king delcared that word would be spread to all corners of "Trent Hills" that all wiggers would be bound together and make their way to Campbellford. But would it work? Would the girls be in time to save Campbellford with their loyal army of wiggers, or was it too little too late?? Find out in the next few chapters which will be written by one of us, I just can't remember which. ROCK ON, WHOEVER IT IS!!
At last they came to a fire escape ladder and climbed into the nearest apartment window. It was dark inside, and Susanne imagined that Escaping from the Hospital by the Beastie Boys was playing as background music because it's the perfect song for sneaking through a stranger's apartment with friends to. She went on to think that it was strange that some Beastie Boys songs were really good, and others she could not even listen to without wanting to die. This train of thought slowly took on all of her attention, trying to find exactly what it was about rap that repulsed her and yet still made her head bop up and down ever so slightly, until she smashed into an end table, a lamp, and finally the coat rack. She just didn't see it there, and everyone understood (sort of) but that didn't help the fact that waking up noises were coming from the bedroom down the hall.
A light flicked on, showing faded, flowery wall paper and several hanging pictures of birds. A door slowly swung ajar and into the hall stepped a withered, old prune with the deadliest of any weapon yet to be unleashed upon the Teen Girl Squad: GUILT! They had woken her up!! Insides writhering, and reeling with the pain of guilt, the girls could only avert their guilty gaze from the old woman scolding them until Heather, remembering her super door kicking down powers, screamed (from her diaphram for maximum projection) and kicked through the door which flew open but stopped short with a loud THWACK! Someone yelled, "OW!" from the other side and landed in a helpless ball. The girls were concerned for a minute, but the man was clearly getting on in years so perhaps it was for the best. But what was another old person doing in this building? Had they tracked down the girls and were in the slow but certain act of storming the building? No, things were much worse! The subtle decor of pastels and wicker furniture was making it painfully clear that the Teen Girl Squad was in fact standing in one of the new retirement homes! Terror shook their very beings, and thinking nothing of perserving their ultra-chic images, the girls screamed bloody murder and ran for their lives.
The biggest problem facing the squad was now clear to all. There was no resisting the powers of the elderly, who were still as numerous as their never ending stories, and this is because the girls, while trained in all the coolest and deadliest arts, were still above all pretty good girls who didn't really have anything besides loud music and fashion sense (common youthful tendancies) that posed any threat to the elderly at all. They would have to look outside themselves for help if there was to be any chance of saving the day. But what other groups were there that were large enough, and threating enough to take down such a gang of haughty, high-haired humans?
Alison suggested they start at the skate park, which they were closest too, but the skaters (pronounced "sk8rz") were already hiding under the ramps to protect themselves from the painful shock of seeing anyone with pants higher than their knees.
They continued to Zazu to question the preps, but they were all whimpering under their ridiculously tiny, hardly functional purses and refused to leave at the risk of having their hair ruffled.
The TGS thought they might ask the "emo" kids next, but were not suprised to discover that this steryotype is actually impossible and does not exist. Deal with it.
Emily, who was sitting on the curb in deep thought, suddenly felt a slight quivering in the ground with her ultra sensitive butt. They slowly all became aware of the booming base of an approaching car, their que to stand in a close circle on the sidewalk to show that they were all together as a couple of wiggers bounced up in a low, red car with giant speakers.
The car slowed down to study the girls, who huddled just a little closer and furrowed their brows at the boys in the car. There was a moment of tension as the car continued to be slowed down, until Susanne gave them a little half knod, which they returned with a half knod and a half smile and sped off down the street.
"HEY!" said Heather, who had just realised something very important, "Have you noticed something? The wiggers are the only other people besides us who seem at all unafftected by nap time at all!"
"Ya, old people hate wiggers. No duh." said Alison who was certainly not portrayed as the dumb one at all.
"Susanne, " said Emily turning to Heather, and was confused for a second but then saw that Susanne was actually on the other side of her, "What did you just do to get rid of them?"
Susanne changed her stance to more of an explanitory pose, and let the girls in on the secret art of body language, "I dunno." she said, and every one understood perfectly.
They jumped on their scooters and set out for the nearby village of Wiggeria (aka. Hastings) which Susanne had lived in all her life. It was clear that she could communicate with them, having lived among them always, but luckily had never become one thanks to the timely transition from public to highschool. She was slightly proud of this ability, but mostly just reluctant to admit it. Still she decided for the greater grood that it was time to set aside these feelings of resentment towards old friends and save some C-ford the old skool way.
The girls rolled into village looking here and there for signs of their secret hidden lair, the location of which Susanne had long forgotten. The cubby hole? No... The tree? Not there either. Dan's parking lot? No, he hates wiggers... ...and that's where Susanne and Kate hang out.
At last the girls rolled along one of those main streets that Susanne has never learned the name of even though she has lived there her whole life (and there are not that many streets to know the names of) and it struck her that the obvious place for wiggers to chill would be the gazeebo! It was a prime location what with all that space to carve words like, "Dawg" and "Yo momma" in pointy letters that overlap to the point that no one can read it anyway. The girls prepared themselves for the communication exersize of a life time by shaking out their limbs, and streching into various poses such as the Pigeon. Strutting onto the gazeebo, resisting peer pressure, and throwing their arms around like they just didn't care, the TGS approached King Wigger to state their case. Wiggers on every side quieted down as they passed, but since the girls showed no sign of feeling out of place they did nothing about it, looking to the king for signs of disapproval. Tension mounted, and an awed hush settled over the crowded gazeebo. The king's head tilted towards the girls. Susanne stepped forward, and chewed her bottom lip for a moment.
"Yo dawg, I say me an ma shorties all up in heearr, an we all goin' crazy town on this ya know what I'm sayin madness, I'm saying madness and I'm all tripped out, heeear??"
The king lifted his chin and stared down to the girls.
"T'sup?" he inquired.
Breathing a short sigh of relief, Susanne continued her story. Heads bopped furiously on each side as the tale of the elderly unfolded for the wiggers, and at last there was nothing left to say. All eyes were on the king who had only to say one word that may mean the begining, or the end for the Teen Girl Squad...
"Fo' sho'." he knodded.
"Fo' sho'!" answered the wiggers.
It was really happening. The king delcared that word would be spread to all corners of "Trent Hills" that all wiggers would be bound together and make their way to Campbellford. But would it work? Would the girls be in time to save Campbellford with their loyal army of wiggers, or was it too little too late?? Find out in the next few chapters which will be written by one of us, I just can't remember which. ROCK ON, WHOEVER IT IS!!
posted by Susanne at 9:43 AM
3 Comments:
Now THAT'S what I call self-glorification! No you may NOT kiss my hand.
Wassup Susie? Kick ass chapter man, i appreciate the mention of zazu although i feel that you have mistreated the impractical purses. did you not see that i changed purses just for you? but did you say anything? It hurts us and thats what counts. foshizzle my nizzle gangsta. good use of the beastie boys. i applaud that.
Yes, I did have to sock it to the purses,and yes, I did notice your new purse. Mabye you could use it to hold the rest of your tiny purses when you're not using them.
BAM!
Anyway, I might have to drop out of the concert next Saturday too. I work until 8:30! OH CRUEL AND TWISTED FATE! But anyway, it also sucks that Heather will not even see this chapter until next week let alone write one. Did you get 8.5 to work? Did you? It's my favourite one!! Even though I wrote it, it's my favourite one!
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