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by Nina Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Fiction · Other · #560434
Fifi LeStrudle vows revenge on Herbert G. Cutlet - who can turn into a fork at will
Fifi LeStrudle was named after a famous
dancing French poodle, the sort that wear leg
frills and a hat. She lived alone in her parent's
stainless steel mansion with her parents
bankcard and her parent's trust. Many months
ago, her parents had heard rumour of a solid
gold parrot deep in the Himalayas that could
forsee the future, which of course they wanted
to purchase. Fifi, they thought , being 4, was
definately old enough to look after herself.
They had never returned.
Fifi was not a nice child. She owned a bike, a
nice bike, but it was not used for nice things.
The bike was pink with streamers and a
basket and was called 'Princess Sparklepie',
and Fifi used it to ram people. She had
dreams, ambitious dreams, of becoming the
Queen of Kindergarten and having all the
other children bow down before her and give
her first rights to the sandpit; and, along with
the help of Princess Sparklepie, this looked
possible. Everyone was afraid of her; she was
quickly working her way to the top.

Herbert G. Cutlet was born with the very
strange ability to turn himself into a fork. Forks
being evil objects (his father was a plumber),
he decided this must be a sign to go to the
darkside, so he built himself a villain-shack,
deep in the woods, and dug trenches all
around it filled with rotting toothbrushes - sure
to cause an infection. He brewed headcolds
in his kitchen and owned a carriage pulled by
rats. All this was fine and dandy for a while,
but Herbert decided he needed more. Basic
treachery was not enough. He needed to rob a
bank. He found a lovely black spandex suit in
a woman's clothing store and made himself a
mask using cardboard, glue and macaroni.

Fifi LeStrudle had just rammed a cat with
Princess Sparklepie and was laughing
hysterically, her poodle hair bobbing.
Herbert G. Cutlet had just robbed a bank with
his home made contaminated-meat firing
gun, and was running down the steps chased
by four very angry bank staff.
Millicent Mimble had just taken a very
important delivery of some rare Mongolian
bees, and was just about to cross the road
when Herbert tripped over Fifi's bike and
landed on her. The cage smashed to the
ground, the bees escaped and attacked Fifi,
Herbert disentangled himself and ran down
the street, but Princess Sparklepie's spokes
had got caught in his spandex, and the bike
was dragging behind him with a horrible
screeching noise. He hit the bike with his loot
bag, the front wheel came off, and he was
free, well, free of the bike anyway, but
unfortunately not of the angry bank staff who
were now throwing cheque books at him.
When Fifi awoke in hospital, covered in
burning,itching, anti-sting cream, and saw her
beloved bike, wheel-less and scratched, and
her dreams of becoming Queen dashed, she
vowed revenge. Herbert had picked the wrong
pre-schooler to mess with, for Fifi, being a bit
on the darkside herself, had contacts. She'd
soon employed some thugs, big heavy men
with no necks, by the names of Wayne and
Cecil, which didn't really sound dangerous or
exciting to Fifi so she changed them to
Crusher and Thudweiser (he was German).

With a supply of sprinkles each, Fifi, Crusher
and Thudweiser stalked through the woods to
Herbert's villain-shack, Fifi riding her faithful
bicycle whose front wheel had been replaced
by the only thing resembling a wheel Fifi could
find - a dinner plate. Sadly, half-way though
the woods the plate cracked and Fifi nearly fell
into one of Herbert's dreaded trenches.
Crusher carried the remains of Princess
Sparklepie on his shoulder, with Fifi still
sitting on it.

Herbert's rats warned him first. He deftly built
a mysterious machine in his backyard, a large
machine with chutes and buttons and
temperature gauges, as well as an old
plunger, possible to be used as a switch.

Thudweiser gave Herbert's front door a swift
kick, and they all rushed in, brandishing
sticks. Crusher let out a bloodthirsty battle cry.
and then they all stopped short, for Herbert
was nowhere to be seen. Herbert was in fact
at that moment, perched on top of his kitchen
cupboard as a fork. He watched as Fifi and
her crew searched frantically through his
house, before sitting down at his kitchen table
for a handful of sprinkles each. Crusher made
a bit of a fuss because he didn't like the green
ones, and the red ones gave him a stomach
ache. The were so busy sifting through the tiny
sprinkles, that they did not see Herbert pick up
three cornflakes (one on each fork prong) and
take aim, right above each of their eyes - a
trick taught to him by his mother, who as well
as cooking an excellent pot roast was also a
black belt in the ancient martial art of
Gondongsaribong. Suddenly, Fifi, Crusher
and Thudweiser were all unconcious on
Herbert's linoleum floor (imported from
Switzerland), and Herbert was beside them,
attempting to drag Crusher out the back door.
This took him quite a while, as Crusher was
twice as big as him, and when he'd finished
he still had to go back and get Thudweiser
and Fifi. His back hurt, so he paused to rub
some of 'Aunt Bettys Miracle Back-Ache
Cream' onto it. He started up the machine,
and one by one (he nearly killed himself), he
tipped them into one of the chutes, pressed a
few buttons, and flicked the plunger switch.
The machine gave a couple of hearty bangs
and then a toot and suddenly there were three
pastries on Herbert's lawn. Herbert loved
pastries. He bent down (this caused him
considerable pain), and placed each one
inside a box labeled 'Cutlet's Pastries'.
Herbert was starting up a bakery.
© Copyright 2002 Nina (skankfoot at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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