Post by Sodapop on May 14, 2008 11:52:28 GMT -5
Chapter 3.
As I shifted my gaze from Snicker to the Weasels, I heard Smart Ass make a small growling noise and saw him slap his forehead. I wondered randomly how much longer I had until he broke.
Wheezy, for once, decided to join in on this conversation. "Who are you? Where are we?"
"In an apartment, Genius," Greasy sneered. Wheezy made a face back at him.
Smart Ass whirled on them. "Boys, boys, just shut up!" he said. He turned to me. "First things first. Who the hell are you, where the HELL are we, and HOW'D YOU BRING US HERE?!"
I held my hands up, making the universal "Whoa, Nelly" gesture. "Calm down. Yer in Chicago."
"That doesn’t answer all my questions."
I sighed and anxiously said, "And my name's Keith West ****, and it's 2007, and you are 61 years old, and HUMPH-"
Smart Ass clamped his hand on my mouth. "Ahem. I have a few more questions. The first one is “Whaaaaaaaah(!??!)”. The second one is “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah(!??!)”. And the last one is “What are you talking about?!"
Snicker gasped for an unknown reason. "What is he talking about? What is he talking about?!" He turned to me. "Naw, really, what are you talking about?"
"Hmmph!" I said, Smart Ass's hand still on my mouth. He pulled his hand away.
“First of all, Snicker, get out of here. Go, go,” I said, ushering him out of the room. I slammed the door and faced the group of weasels.
Smart Ass was acting impatient, arms crossed and tapping one foot.
Wheezy was leaning against my bed, nervously puffing on a cigarette.
Greasy was standing beside Smart Ass, Psycho right behind him, peering over his shoulder in great interest.
Stupid was standing in the middle of my room, looking very confused and somewhat frightened.
“I can explain,” I said, my voice still hard as rock, even though the weasels looked like they were ready to jump on me and rip me apart with their bare teeth, if nesessary (I should be on Broadway, I really should). “It’s been 61 years since the incident. I have-”
Smart Ass held up his hand. “Since what incident??” he asked, genuinley confused.
“Uh, since you died?” I offered. He seemed to shudder and nodded for me to go on.
“Anyway, I, meanwhile, have been working on being a cartoon animator, big coincidence. Then my mother bought the WFRR video-”
He interrupted me again. “Video? What video? And devine WFRR.”
I adjusted my shirt’s collar, becoming a bit anxious. “Uh, well, word of the framing of Roger became widely known, very quickly. So in the 1980’s, they made a movie about it. You were “in it,” with the help of computer technologies.”
“Oh, swell,” he practically groaned, and he rolled his eyes. I could tell he was supressing the urge to ask what "Computer Technologies" meant.
“So, anywho. They named that movie 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit'.
“My mother bought the video for me, on my birthday. You guys had a main roll in it, and I became interested in you. I wanted info. The more I found out about you, the more I became a dedicated weasel fan. Which lead to me using my skills to give you your lives.”
“That’s very nice. Now, we’ll just skedadle along-”
There was a sudden, giant BRRROOM coming from above. The weasels, obviously startled, looked up. Slightly curious, Greasy peered out the window. He made a little gasp when he saw a huge 747 fly right over us. His and the rest of the weasels’ jaws dropped to the floor.
“What was that?!” Smart Ass screeched.
I lookd at him, eyebrows raised. “It was just a plane.”
“Just a plane?” he repeated. “It was a huge, giant, metal-type thing!” he said, waving his arms.
Nodding, I said, “Before you go, I’m giving you some useful lessons.”
“Yippee skip,” he replied sarcastically.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Devine=Define
As I shifted my gaze from Snicker to the Weasels, I heard Smart Ass make a small growling noise and saw him slap his forehead. I wondered randomly how much longer I had until he broke.
Wheezy, for once, decided to join in on this conversation. "Who are you? Where are we?"
"In an apartment, Genius," Greasy sneered. Wheezy made a face back at him.
Smart Ass whirled on them. "Boys, boys, just shut up!" he said. He turned to me. "First things first. Who the hell are you, where the HELL are we, and HOW'D YOU BRING US HERE?!"
I held my hands up, making the universal "Whoa, Nelly" gesture. "Calm down. Yer in Chicago."
"That doesn’t answer all my questions."
I sighed and anxiously said, "And my name's Keith West ****, and it's 2007, and you are 61 years old, and HUMPH-"
Smart Ass clamped his hand on my mouth. "Ahem. I have a few more questions. The first one is “Whaaaaaaaah(!??!)”. The second one is “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah(!??!)”. And the last one is “What are you talking about?!"
Snicker gasped for an unknown reason. "What is he talking about? What is he talking about?!" He turned to me. "Naw, really, what are you talking about?"
"Hmmph!" I said, Smart Ass's hand still on my mouth. He pulled his hand away.
“First of all, Snicker, get out of here. Go, go,” I said, ushering him out of the room. I slammed the door and faced the group of weasels.
Smart Ass was acting impatient, arms crossed and tapping one foot.
Wheezy was leaning against my bed, nervously puffing on a cigarette.
Greasy was standing beside Smart Ass, Psycho right behind him, peering over his shoulder in great interest.
Stupid was standing in the middle of my room, looking very confused and somewhat frightened.
“I can explain,” I said, my voice still hard as rock, even though the weasels looked like they were ready to jump on me and rip me apart with their bare teeth, if nesessary (I should be on Broadway, I really should). “It’s been 61 years since the incident. I have-”
Smart Ass held up his hand. “Since what incident??” he asked, genuinley confused.
“Uh, since you died?” I offered. He seemed to shudder and nodded for me to go on.
“Anyway, I, meanwhile, have been working on being a cartoon animator, big coincidence. Then my mother bought the WFRR video-”
He interrupted me again. “Video? What video? And devine WFRR.”
I adjusted my shirt’s collar, becoming a bit anxious. “Uh, well, word of the framing of Roger became widely known, very quickly. So in the 1980’s, they made a movie about it. You were “in it,” with the help of computer technologies.”
“Oh, swell,” he practically groaned, and he rolled his eyes. I could tell he was supressing the urge to ask what "Computer Technologies" meant.
“So, anywho. They named that movie 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit'.
“My mother bought the video for me, on my birthday. You guys had a main roll in it, and I became interested in you. I wanted info. The more I found out about you, the more I became a dedicated weasel fan. Which lead to me using my skills to give you your lives.”
“That’s very nice. Now, we’ll just skedadle along-”
There was a sudden, giant BRRROOM coming from above. The weasels, obviously startled, looked up. Slightly curious, Greasy peered out the window. He made a little gasp when he saw a huge 747 fly right over us. His and the rest of the weasels’ jaws dropped to the floor.
“What was that?!” Smart Ass screeched.
I lookd at him, eyebrows raised. “It was just a plane.”
“Just a plane?” he repeated. “It was a huge, giant, metal-type thing!” he said, waving his arms.
Nodding, I said, “Before you go, I’m giving you some useful lessons.”
“Yippee skip,” he replied sarcastically.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Devine=Define
I'm honored.