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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Erotica · #1871674
Is nothing sacred to science?
                    The great molecular accelerator hick-ups.
                    Lab technicians scurry about, putting out fires.
                   
                    "Hey! That's my foot!" Winkin shouts and pulls her foot back
                    from a probing technician's lead gloved hands.
                    She is a Faery and no bigger than your thumb.

                    Winkin rustles her four wings and flies around the great chamber.
                    "What is this? A room with no windows or doors?" she is very upset.
                    Mr. Frizzle takes a bullhorn "Please, come down here where we can
                    speak. Do you speak English?"

                    Winkin had been shouting in Elfin Gaelic.
                    She understands and alights in front of Mr. Frizzle.
                    "Ehm... Where am I?" the Faery bats her blond eye lashes and
                    brilliant green eyes.
                    Mr. Frizzle gave a toothy smile to the technicians.
                    "Thank goodness. You speak English.
                    Well, your in the Netherlands and this is a machine that catches
                    small particles.. uh-- pieces of energy."

                    Winkin flips her long red hair.
                    "I don't like it."

                    Mr. Frizzle gave another toothy smile.
                    "I'm very sorry. I'm the operational supervisor.
                    Would you like some tea?"
                    He offers the Faery tea and a new chapter in
                    scientific discovery is begun.


      to be continued....


                                    Chapter 2; The Interview



                    "All right?" Frizzle smiles at
                    the tiny alien.
                    Winkin crinkles her nose and sniffs the tea, then
                    sips from the thimble size cup.
                    "I can't be poisoned." she answers with a deadly cold
                    gaze.

                    "Oh? That's good to know." Mr. Frizzle takes out his note
                    book and scribbles with his #2 pencil.
                    "What's your name hon?" he continues.
                    "Winkin.. hon." the Feary smile is disturbing almost demonic.
                    Mr. Frizzle drinks some tea, "Ah where do you come from?"
                    Winkin giggles and points to the exploded hole in the accelerator.
                    Nicki the human resource manager has entered the lab.

                    "What the hell is going on here? The hazard sirens are blaring."
                    Nicki is clearly upset.
                    "Hi." Winkin waves to the frail figure of an HR.
                    "What the fuck is that!" Nicki screeches, pointing her nicotine
                    stained finger at Winkin.
                    Mr. Frizzle quickly takes Nicki aside to quietly explain the
                    visitor.
                    Nicki lights up a Tiparillo.
                   
                    "Look ah Winkin. This is a very important question.
                    You need to answer me honestly." Nicki paused to smoke.
                    "How did you get in here and where are you from?"
                    The human resource councilor forced a smile as the
                    Netherland's fire department raced in.

                    "That's two questions.. hon and I don't know how I got
                    here. I think that thing sucked me up .. " Winkin put more
                    honey in her tea and sipped.
                    "I live mostly in Scotland, but I like to visit my kin in
                    the Netherlands." she took a piece of biscuit and nibbled.
                    "Oh. This is very good. We're making great progress."
                    Mr. Frizzle remarked, scribbling on his note pad excitedly.

                    "Yeah. A multimillion dollar facility is trashed and I have to
                    tell the press and corporate that a Feary broke it.
                    I need a beer." Nicki words were strained and her shoulders
                    hunched forward as she smoked her Tiparillo.
                    "This is the greatest news break, since God spoke to Moses!"
                    Mr. Frizzle exclaimed, his blue eyes were wild with excitement.

                    "Moses spoke to a Feary. His name is Trinkle.
                    I can call him. If you want to talk?" Winkin burped.
                    Frizzle and Nicki stared at the tiny Feary in shock.
                    "The Moses? Of the Ten Commandments?" Mr. Frizzle
                    checked his IPOD video. He had been using it to record the
                    interview. It was fried.
                    He quickly made more notes.

                    "Yes! We welcome you all.
                    Let's all be friends and learn from each other!"
                    Nicki forced a trembling toothy smile as she tried to
                    wave over a police officer.
                    Several of the Netherland's finest SWAT team surrounded
                    Winkin, who appeared to take little notice.
                    The Feary vanished.

                    "Did you see that?" Nicki pleaded to the police.
                    "I-don't know what I saw." the officer shrugged.
                    "I saw it and I have detailed notes!" Mr. Frizzle held up his
                    notebook with a big toothy smile.
                    "I'll take that. It's evidence." the officer said and snatched
                    the notebook.
                    Nicki and Frizzle stood in dumb dismay as the lab emptied
                    of firemen and police.
                    "We are screwed." Nicki said and took a long drag on her
                    Tiparillo.



        =++=
          V
                   
                   
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