Fic Amnesty Week
Apr. 21st, 2013 10:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kinglearisstupidBehold, in lieu of actual fic this week, here are bits and pieces that I haven't been able to finish:
"I'm sleepy," Beezus whines as Rossi ushers her into the cafe. "Why did you wake me up so early?"
"Because somebody didn't finish their project, which is due today," Rossi says before telling the maitre d' that he would prefer a table inside. There was an incident involving a bee hovering near his daughter's pancakes which he does not need to relive.
"That's not fair, I didn't have time to finish my project because I was being punished."
Spoken like a true narcisisst, Rossi thinks to himself.
"And I was just trying to do a good job on my project. I didn't know I'm not supposed to cut the faces out of money."
"Well, now you know," Rossi tells Beezus as he shuffles her into the booth. "And in case you missed it the first fifty times your mom and I told you last night, it's a federal offense to deface U.S. currency. Not to mention none of the presidents belong on your family tree, since you're not related to any of them."
"Let's have a little talk, kids," Aunt JJ says, putting Charlie-Jeff onto the grass as she sits down. She leans forward and puts her elbows on her knees so that she is looking straight at Beezus and Henry. It is a look that means business.
Beezus's dad once said that kids listen to Aunt JJ more than another other grownup because she has the most kids out of all of them and therefore she seems to know what she's doing more than anybody else.
"We're going to be on our best behaviour today, for Uncle Aaron and Aunt Beth," Henry's mom tells them sternly. "There will be no biting, no food-fights, no making glasses out of cold cuts, no throwing things, no contest to see who can scream the loudest. Do I make myself clear?"
Beezus nods, even though she can see out of the corner of her eye that Charlie-Jeff is grabbing handfuls of grass and eating them, and that is not best behaviour.
"No hitting, no mixing sauces together to see what it would taste like, no putting things into chocolate fountain if they are not supposed to go into the chocolate fountain."
It's not fair, Beezus thinks. When you're five years old, life is just a bunch of things you're not allowed to do.
"And in case you were wondering, the following things do not belong in the chocolate fountain: hot dogs, pickles, your finger, rocks, worms - dead or alive -, olive pits, Lego, those little army men you have in your pocket right now, Henry, your socks, Polly Pockets, and anything that has been inside your mouth. Do you understand?"
Henry puts up his hand. "Even if they've only been inside my mouth for less than five seconds?"
"Even if it's less than five seconds."
"But there's a five second rule!" Henry says.
"Not when it comes to the chocolate fountain, young man. Are we clear?"
"Yes," Beezus choruses along with Henry. Charlie-Jeff has green all over his face and is now sticking his hands into the dirt. He is probably going to eat a beetle even without dipping it in chocolate first. Babies are really stupid.
Beezus likes music all right, but only when she gets the good instruments. Her favorite is the tangerine, because it is like a drum with extra bells and it is also the name of a fruit. She does not like the triangle, which only makes one noise. She likes the big xylophones (the only word she knows that begins with X, besides X-ray) and the medium xylophones but she doesn't like the glock because it's so little and only makes a tinny sound when she hits the keys. The first time she got a glock, she put her hand up and said, "This is not a glock, a glock is a gun and I know because my mommy has one and she shoots people with it," and that got the rest of the class very excited. Ms. McCrae was not excited. She pinched the place between her eyes and Beezus never got the glock again. She is fine with that because she prefers the tangerine anyway.
Beezus's favorite part about Monday mornings is when her teacher asks her class if they have anything interesting to share about their weekend. Beezus always has a lot of interestings to share but Mr. Jonah doesn't call on her every time, because he needs to give other kids a chance, even though their interestings are nowhere near as interesting as Beezus's.
Beezus's interesting for this weekend is her dad's birthday. Birthdays for grownups are strange, because instead of a party, they just want to have dinner with other grownups and drink lots of wine. These are all things that Daddy can do at home, and that he does do at home, but for his birthday he wanted to leave Beezus with a babysitter so that Mommy could take him to a restaurant with fancy food that you have to be very very quiet when you are eating it. You also have to wear your nicest clothes when you are there, it's a rule. Beezus does not think that is a smart rule because it means you can get food on your nicest clothes really easily.
The interesting part is not her dad's birthday dinner, which her parents seemed to enjoy even though it sounded really boring when Beezus asked them about it afterwards to distract them from the fact that she was up past her bedtime. The interesting part is that Beezus's daddy is sixty years old which makes him the oldest dad in the world. She bets none of the other kids have dads that old.
She puts her hand up and waits for Mr. Jonah to call on her so that she can tell her friends that her dad is older than all their other dads and her dad is probably smarter than all their other dads, on account of being so old and all.
But instead of calling on her, Mr. Jonah picks Tommy instead. Beezus scowls and puts her hand down, but she supposes she can go second. Tommy doesn't usually do interestings and Beezus knows that Mr. Jonah sometimes feels sorry for the boring kids so he lets them go first whenever they have an interesting.
"This weekend," Tommy says, his face getting pink from the interesting trying to burst out of him. "This weekend I saw a dead body."
Nobody says anything, not even Beezus. They all look at Mr. Jonah, because you're only allowed to say true things when it's sharing time. You cannot even use your imagination. Beezus has a great imagination and Mr. Jonah tells her she has to use it carefully, because with great power comes great responsibility, and Beezus's responsibility is not to let her imagination run away and turn into lying.
Tommy, Beezus realizes, must have an imagination that is even better than hers. He is not doing a good job of being responsible for it, and she looks at Mr. Jonah and waits for him to give Tommy the responsibility talk.
Before Mr. Jonah says anything, the words come bursting out of Tommy, more words than Beezus has ever heard out of him, ever. They come out all at once and mash into each other into one big word. "ThisweekendmymomandIwenttovisitmyuncleBobandwhenwegottherenooneansweredthedoorsomymomletmecall911andthepolicecameandbrokethedooropenanduncleBobwasdeadonthesofaandIsawhisdeadbody."
"You got to call 911?" Laurence says without putting his hand up first, and Rosalie puts her hand up and calls him out on it.
This gives Beezus a jealous feeling in her stomach. You're only allowed to call 911 when it is absolutely necessary, like if there is a fire or if a robber is trying to get into your house or if you cut yourself with a big knife. Beezus has never called 911 (okay, fine, she has, but she wasn't supposed to and she sure got into trouble for it), nor has she seen a dead body and it is grossly unfair that Tommy gets to do both in the same weekend and have two interestings.
"Thank you for sharing, Tommy," Mr. Jonah says and gestures for Tommy to sit back down in the circle. "Who wants to go next?"
Kaylee puts up her hand. "Last summer my great-grandma died and I went to her funeral and I saw her dead body too."
"Oh, boy," Mr. Jonah mumbles as everybody starts talking about the dead bodies they have seen. Beezus decides to use her own imagination, because she has never seen a dead body. But her parents have seen more dead bodies than probably everyone else in her school, and that should count for something.
At recess, Tommy is treated like a superhero for being able to call 911. Beezus doesn't think that's right; superheroes wouldn't need to call 911. 911 would be calling superheroes.
"Was your uncle Bob all covered in blood?" asks Second Jake.
"No, he just looked like he was asleep," Tommy says.
"How did he die?" asks First Jake.
"My great-grandma was really old," Kaylee chimes in. "Did he die of oldness?"
"The ambulance people said he had a heart attack," answers Tommy. "He wasn't that old. He was only 60."
"That's pretty old," Kaylee says, "but not as old as my great-grandma."
60, Beezus thinks, is very very old.
Suddenly, her interesting doesn't feel very interesting anymore.
"I'm sleepy," Beezus whines as Rossi ushers her into the cafe. "Why did you wake me up so early?"
"Because somebody didn't finish their project, which is due today," Rossi says before telling the maitre d' that he would prefer a table inside. There was an incident involving a bee hovering near his daughter's pancakes which he does not need to relive.
"That's not fair, I didn't have time to finish my project because I was being punished."
Spoken like a true narcisisst, Rossi thinks to himself.
"And I was just trying to do a good job on my project. I didn't know I'm not supposed to cut the faces out of money."
"Well, now you know," Rossi tells Beezus as he shuffles her into the booth. "And in case you missed it the first fifty times your mom and I told you last night, it's a federal offense to deface U.S. currency. Not to mention none of the presidents belong on your family tree, since you're not related to any of them."
"Let's have a little talk, kids," Aunt JJ says, putting Charlie-Jeff onto the grass as she sits down. She leans forward and puts her elbows on her knees so that she is looking straight at Beezus and Henry. It is a look that means business.
Beezus's dad once said that kids listen to Aunt JJ more than another other grownup because she has the most kids out of all of them and therefore she seems to know what she's doing more than anybody else.
"We're going to be on our best behaviour today, for Uncle Aaron and Aunt Beth," Henry's mom tells them sternly. "There will be no biting, no food-fights, no making glasses out of cold cuts, no throwing things, no contest to see who can scream the loudest. Do I make myself clear?"
Beezus nods, even though she can see out of the corner of her eye that Charlie-Jeff is grabbing handfuls of grass and eating them, and that is not best behaviour.
"No hitting, no mixing sauces together to see what it would taste like, no putting things into chocolate fountain if they are not supposed to go into the chocolate fountain."
It's not fair, Beezus thinks. When you're five years old, life is just a bunch of things you're not allowed to do.
"And in case you were wondering, the following things do not belong in the chocolate fountain: hot dogs, pickles, your finger, rocks, worms - dead or alive -, olive pits, Lego, those little army men you have in your pocket right now, Henry, your socks, Polly Pockets, and anything that has been inside your mouth. Do you understand?"
Henry puts up his hand. "Even if they've only been inside my mouth for less than five seconds?"
"Even if it's less than five seconds."
"But there's a five second rule!" Henry says.
"Not when it comes to the chocolate fountain, young man. Are we clear?"
"Yes," Beezus choruses along with Henry. Charlie-Jeff has green all over his face and is now sticking his hands into the dirt. He is probably going to eat a beetle even without dipping it in chocolate first. Babies are really stupid.
Beezus likes music all right, but only when she gets the good instruments. Her favorite is the tangerine, because it is like a drum with extra bells and it is also the name of a fruit. She does not like the triangle, which only makes one noise. She likes the big xylophones (the only word she knows that begins with X, besides X-ray) and the medium xylophones but she doesn't like the glock because it's so little and only makes a tinny sound when she hits the keys. The first time she got a glock, she put her hand up and said, "This is not a glock, a glock is a gun and I know because my mommy has one and she shoots people with it," and that got the rest of the class very excited. Ms. McCrae was not excited. She pinched the place between her eyes and Beezus never got the glock again. She is fine with that because she prefers the tangerine anyway.
Beezus's favorite part about Monday mornings is when her teacher asks her class if they have anything interesting to share about their weekend. Beezus always has a lot of interestings to share but Mr. Jonah doesn't call on her every time, because he needs to give other kids a chance, even though their interestings are nowhere near as interesting as Beezus's.
Beezus's interesting for this weekend is her dad's birthday. Birthdays for grownups are strange, because instead of a party, they just want to have dinner with other grownups and drink lots of wine. These are all things that Daddy can do at home, and that he does do at home, but for his birthday he wanted to leave Beezus with a babysitter so that Mommy could take him to a restaurant with fancy food that you have to be very very quiet when you are eating it. You also have to wear your nicest clothes when you are there, it's a rule. Beezus does not think that is a smart rule because it means you can get food on your nicest clothes really easily.
The interesting part is not her dad's birthday dinner, which her parents seemed to enjoy even though it sounded really boring when Beezus asked them about it afterwards to distract them from the fact that she was up past her bedtime. The interesting part is that Beezus's daddy is sixty years old which makes him the oldest dad in the world. She bets none of the other kids have dads that old.
She puts her hand up and waits for Mr. Jonah to call on her so that she can tell her friends that her dad is older than all their other dads and her dad is probably smarter than all their other dads, on account of being so old and all.
But instead of calling on her, Mr. Jonah picks Tommy instead. Beezus scowls and puts her hand down, but she supposes she can go second. Tommy doesn't usually do interestings and Beezus knows that Mr. Jonah sometimes feels sorry for the boring kids so he lets them go first whenever they have an interesting.
"This weekend," Tommy says, his face getting pink from the interesting trying to burst out of him. "This weekend I saw a dead body."
Nobody says anything, not even Beezus. They all look at Mr. Jonah, because you're only allowed to say true things when it's sharing time. You cannot even use your imagination. Beezus has a great imagination and Mr. Jonah tells her she has to use it carefully, because with great power comes great responsibility, and Beezus's responsibility is not to let her imagination run away and turn into lying.
Tommy, Beezus realizes, must have an imagination that is even better than hers. He is not doing a good job of being responsible for it, and she looks at Mr. Jonah and waits for him to give Tommy the responsibility talk.
Before Mr. Jonah says anything, the words come bursting out of Tommy, more words than Beezus has ever heard out of him, ever. They come out all at once and mash into each other into one big word. "ThisweekendmymomandIwenttovisitmyuncleBobandwhenwegottherenooneansweredthedoorsomymomletmecall911andthepolicecameandbrokethedooropenanduncleBobwasdeadonthesofaandIsawhisdeadbody."
"You got to call 911?" Laurence says without putting his hand up first, and Rosalie puts her hand up and calls him out on it.
This gives Beezus a jealous feeling in her stomach. You're only allowed to call 911 when it is absolutely necessary, like if there is a fire or if a robber is trying to get into your house or if you cut yourself with a big knife. Beezus has never called 911 (okay, fine, she has, but she wasn't supposed to and she sure got into trouble for it), nor has she seen a dead body and it is grossly unfair that Tommy gets to do both in the same weekend and have two interestings.
"Thank you for sharing, Tommy," Mr. Jonah says and gestures for Tommy to sit back down in the circle. "Who wants to go next?"
Kaylee puts up her hand. "Last summer my great-grandma died and I went to her funeral and I saw her dead body too."
"Oh, boy," Mr. Jonah mumbles as everybody starts talking about the dead bodies they have seen. Beezus decides to use her own imagination, because she has never seen a dead body. But her parents have seen more dead bodies than probably everyone else in her school, and that should count for something.
At recess, Tommy is treated like a superhero for being able to call 911. Beezus doesn't think that's right; superheroes wouldn't need to call 911. 911 would be calling superheroes.
"Was your uncle Bob all covered in blood?" asks Second Jake.
"No, he just looked like he was asleep," Tommy says.
"How did he die?" asks First Jake.
"My great-grandma was really old," Kaylee chimes in. "Did he die of oldness?"
"The ambulance people said he had a heart attack," answers Tommy. "He wasn't that old. He was only 60."
"That's pretty old," Kaylee says, "but not as old as my great-grandma."
60, Beezus thinks, is very very old.
Suddenly, her interesting doesn't feel very interesting anymore.
