Elves N' Stuff


                                            >"Wizards can't have electric guitars!"

                                            "Yeah huh!"

                                            >"Nuh-uh!"

                                            >This petty back and forth with your friend has been going on for several minutes and will continue until you've won...

                                            >Or until you two part ways on the way back to your houses after leaving the school bus.

                                            >"Wizards didn't have electric ANYTHING back then, you stupid idiot!"

                                            "Wizards are magic! They can do whatever they want!"

                                            >"Electricity is NOT magic!"

                                            "How do YOU know?"

                                            >"Because it just isn't, okay?!"

                                            "Explain Palpatine in Star Wars, then! He zaps people with electricity all the time."

                                            >"Doesn't count. Not magic."

                                            "What do you mean that isn't magic? The Force is totally magic!"

                                            >"They never called it magic, dooface!"

                                            "So what? They didn't have to."

                                            >"Not. Magic."

                                            "That's stupid, it's obviously magic!"

                                            >"Okay, so is Superman magic?"

                                            "Um... well..."

                                            >"C'mon, answer me! If Palpatine is magic then so is Superman!"

                                            "That doesn't count. Superman's superpowers come from the sun."

                                            >"What's the difference? Why wouldn't that be magic by your logic?"

                                            "Because the sun is the SOURCE of his power! It's not magic that comes out of nowhere."

                                            >"Except his ability to turn the sun into his powers would count as magic, right?"

                                            "That's not the same, you dork. Palpatine is magic, Superman has superpowers."

                                            >"No, stupid!"

                                            "So wizards are more like Palpatine and can have electric guitars. End of story."

                                            >"And you're calling ME a dork?"

                                            "Yeah, yeah I am. Dork."

                                            >"You're dorkier!" Your friend shoves you into the springy barrier of someone's hedge.

                                            >In reflexive retaliation, your lurch right back out at him with vengeance in your glare, shoving your friend twice as hard over the border separating concrete from asphalt.

                                            >Your bad luck is the shrill screech of a car's tires, and your worse luck is your friend's pained yelp after the grill of the car collides with his arm.

                                            >The loudness of the sound of him hitting the asphalt of the street spells out bad news for you.

                                            >Stare up through the passenger's side window at the driver's distraught expression that still shines through the window tint.

                                            >With a saucer-wide pair of eyes that look like they were the ones between the car's headlights instead.

                                            >The weight of your shock holds your tongue down, keeping you from being able to utter a single word; your fight or flight response chooses the latter.

                                            >The pitter patter of your tennis shoes against the pavement is the only thing your mind is able to process for the second or two it takes for your friend to process the pain sinking in and start letting out bloodcurdling screams of agony.

                                            >And the only thing making the screams quieter is the continued pitter patter of your tennis shoes that distances you from the scene.

                                            >All the way until you're too far away to hear the screams clearly.

                                            >Which does take a while.

                                            >But your mind has slipped into survival mode

                                            >Didn't even realize you've ran clear past your own house.

                                            >But that's the least of your problems.

                                            ~

                                            >Does it matter who was wrong regarding magic and superpowers?

                                            >Does it matter that your friend was the one who shoved you first?

                                            >Does it matter that you were the one who shoved him into the street?

                                            >No, No, and Yes.

                                            >At least, that's what you're told as your Playstation 2 is carried out of your room by your mom while your dad yells at you.

                                            >"I can't believe how disappointed in you I am!" His infuriated stare matches his booming voice echoing off the walls. "I've had enough trouble with your brothers, and now YOU?!"

                                            >Too stubborn to see the fault in your actions, you sit on the side of your bed and glare daggers up at him, knowing your two brothers are listening through the wall giggling at you finally getting grounded too like the crabs in the bucket they are.

                                            >"You can give me that look all you want, you're not tough! You need to learn self-control, and by God I am going to smack in into you if I have to!"

                                            >His open palm whipped across your face as he said that, letting off a reverberating slapping sound you just know made your brothers have more difficulty stifling their laughter in the other room.

                                            >Red in the face from yelling so much, your dad glares down at you in enraged disappointment, his now slightly pained eyes hinting that cliché of "that hurt me more than it hurt you" in response to the slap across your face he delivered.

                                            >You're not really sure what to do next, so you just sit there on your bed while your father continues to berate you, swearing he's going to raise both you and your younger twin brothers right.

                                            >That land-ruling wizard with an electric guitar you've always imagined yourself as, right now, is still sat atop his bed with his parents taking turns scolding him and telling him he should be thankful his friend from school is alive and only in the hospital with minor injuries.

                                            >Really cramps your style, doesn't it?

                                            >The situation itself was still juuuuuuust serious enough to warrant an exchange of insurance information between the parents.

                                            >It both does and doesn't help that the driver had recently been driving extra carefully ever since almost running over a neighbor's pet, and here's why:

                                            >The owner had stopped in front of the car holding her hand out, and the driver was confused until he saw her pick the tiny leopard gecko off of the street.

                                            >She kindly waved him off like it wasn't his fault, but he's felt so guilty and paranoid ever since that he always drives extra slowly and carefully now.

                                            >And because of that, your friend was not killed, in the light of the car not hitting him so hard on account of the driver's guilty paranoia.

                                            >But that also meant the car coming up quietly enough behind the two of you to not be easily noticed during your heated altercation.

                                            >And you shoving your friend out into the street was something the driver had NOT expected.

                                            >Good thing that gecko really lowered the cost of that would-be vehicular tragedy, albeit somewhat helping it happen at the same time.

                                            >---

                                            >After spending the longest feeling day of your life cooped up in your room without TV or video games, you mope with tiny storm clouds over your head.

                                            >Your bitterness blinds you from the fact that your friend got hurt pretty badly the other day.

                                            >The negative sentiment would have had you acting out a gruesome murder with your action figures on the floor had your parents not also taken them out of your room too in order to punish you with the absolute absence of fun.

                                            >You've been told you're too old to play with action figures these days anyway.

                                            >Well if you're not gonna do that, or play video gams, or watch TV, what the hell are you even gonna do for fun in here?

                                            >There is nothing else can can think to do in here but sit and stare at the ceiling waiting to fall asleep.

                                            >This is how every single day during your two week grounding goes... coupled with your parents warning you to be grateful that you weren't grounded for a month.

                                            >That already happened once when you fought (and very quickly lost to) a rainbow haired girl at school after teasing another shy pink haired girl, who was her friend, apparently.

                                            >That was the worst month of your life (so far), and was even worse than the echoes of that first girl's punches she had delivered that you still felt several days later.

                                            >The teasing you gave the shy girl was paid back to you sevenfold when other boys at school teased you for getting beat up by a girl, even though they knew deep down she'd whoop them as well if they stepped to her.

                                            >That's how your grounding got extended to a month in the first place: getting into a turbulent fight with one of the other boys laughing at you and finally reclaiming some dignity amongst your peers.

                                            >But even half of that month long timeframe sucks to not be allowed to do anything fun.

                                            >You'd be the dominant older sibling if your younger brethren had not been doubled into twins who can use strength in numbers.

                                            >Their taunting is the worst because all three of you are already grounded together for various antics, and you're all stuck together like Hatfields and McCoys trapped in an elevator together.

                                            >Except this time, all your last names are the same, and your mom and dad can't figure out how they're going to keep track of all three of you troublemakers whenever you're supposed to stay grounded when home alone.

                                            >That's when they settled on hiring that pink girl with bright hair to be your babysitter.

                                            ~

                                            >There's this "rated T for teens" space alien shooter game you've been playing for some number of weeks now.

                                            >Unable to get past a few certain levels for quite some time, due to you being too dumb to figure out how to use a simple game mechanic that was always right there in the manual you didn't read.

                                            >Oh, the hours of toil you underwent sitting on your bed trying to figure out how to simply leave a room on the map.

                                            >Having already gotten the gist of blasting the green spacesuit aliens with antennae with your laser gun, you were quite frustrated by this simple obstacle.

                                            >Almost insulted by how it would hold back a space warrior such as yourself from doing what you do best.

                                            >There was no reason for that to have been such an ordeal for you, and your aggravated grunt of "OH COME OOOOOOOOONN!" angrily sang through the walls over to your younger twin brothers' room the moment you figured out how to get to the next room in the game.

                                            >It was through an air vent connected to the floor you had to press a button to open which you weren't used to pressing when you were busy racking up that kill streak.

                                            >So many hours wasted, but you used the wrath as something to take out on the next batch of enemies that didn't stand a chance against you.

                                            >You've been ready for the final boss for several levels by now.

                                            >The next day or two had been spent working your way towards the final level in the game where you would face the final boss, now extra powered up from your little mishap with not knowing a game mechanic that should have been easy to figure out.

                                            >Each day included a few hours of playing until you either got tired or had to go do your homework or some other stupid stuff that got in the way.

                                            >Once again, you were on a roll.

                                            >Inching closer to that final battle you were SURE you were going to win against that pesky final boss you had been taunting back from your bed after he taunted you from in the game.

                                            >You were charged up all day at school, excited to get back home and defeat that final boss once and for all.

                                            >...And then you got grounded after your friend was hit by a car.

                                            >Your console was hauled out of your room while your father berated you, killing your whole vibe in addition to ruining your day and entire next month.

                                            >This entire chain of events was going through your mind every day when you sat on your bed without your console in your room... or your TV plugged in to be able to even be switched on.

                                            >Only reason why the TV itself wasn't hauled out of your room was because it's one of those bulky heavy box TVs that are too much of a hassle to lug around, especially up and down a flight of stairs.

                                            >So your parents just settled on taking the cables and wires away; you can't even turn the darned thing on regardless.

                                            >You were supposed to feel bad about what you did.

                                            >But you just want the video game back so you can complete it.

                                            >There's an opportunity rearing its head right around the corner just for you:

                                            >The entire weekend your parents are going to be away in about another week or so from now.

                                            >And it looks like they may be taking your two younger twin brothers with them for the family trip.

                                            >You're convinced that your parents are just gullible, because they still haven't seemed to learn how you are with sitters.

                                            >A long history of you being nasty and annoying to past babysitters is your battle record, which shouldn't have been continued since you've gotten older now.

                                            >Too old to need any more of that lame corny babysitter stuff, but still know how ungovernable you've become whenever your parents aren't home and it's just you and your little legion of brothers running the place like Lord Of The Flies.

                                            >It's more or less something you're ashamed to be proud of.

                                            >No sitter can tame you, you've taken on sitters who were both men and women, all of whom were middle aged and didn't have the stamina to keep up with three little brats running around spilling chocolate milk and hitting the walls with mini hockey sticks at 11 at night.

                                            >And nowadays, your goal is less to annoy the sitter (which can easily be done) and more to break into the basement room you know your console and wires are so you can beat that video game already.

                                            >Of course, that can't happen until the upcoming 3-day weekend during which the trip takes place, lest your younger brothers tell on you out of "if we can't play video games then neither can you" spite.

                                            >You only remind yourself of this due to the fact that you're also being babysat tonight too, along with your two brothers.

                                            >Obviously, your parents want to get this brand new sitter they just hired to get used to dealing with you before leaving for 3 days.

                                            >She will deal with three of you for one day before dealing with one of you for three days.

                                            >Sounds straightforward enough for your parents, but it sounds like a challenge to you.

                                            >All you're imagining is how your favorite characters in Saturday morning cartoons would approach this new episode of your life.

                                            >You can't wait to find ways to make this babysitter crack around the edges then cave in just like all the others before her.

                                            >Looking forward to using the tiny screwdriver from the tool shed in the backyard to unlock the door in the basement.

                                            >Whoever this babysitter turns out to be, you'll analyze her methods tonight and see what it takes to either slip past her guard or exhaust her into giving up trying to control you.

                                            >In your bedroom, you do your little evil laugh because you're also the villain as well as the main character in this Saturday morning cartoon that is your life.

                                            >Nevermind the fact that you're too old to watch Saturday morning cartoons and not have it be at least a little weird for your age, at least that's what some of your friends at school have been giving you the vibe of.

                                            >Eh, screw them.

                                            ~

                                            >She's here.

                                            >You see a car pull up in the driveway, hearing what must be music coming from inside the vehicle, but your view of whoever gets out is blocked by the corner of the roof over the garage as usual.

                                            >It doesn't take your parents long to respond to the doorbell ringing, and the front door is swung open before you know it.

                                            >"Hi!" A bright and cheerful voice chimes into the front room, evoking a very friendly reaction from your parents. "The uhh... Elf family?"

                                            >Yup, she has the right place, and this is the sitter you've had to prepare for.

                                            >A few minutes of your parents conversing with the babysitter go by before the sounds of your two younger brothers entering the front room dissipates it all into more hellos and stuff.

                                            >In your room you sit, like a brooding demon just waiting to emerge from the shadows as you plan your dramatic entrance.

                                            >You want this babysitter to remember this moment, the day she met her worst nightmare.

                                            >Practice your evil grin in the mirror, putting on your favorite T-shirt you love to wear on special occasions when you're you're the most yourself.

                                            >It feels like your favorite suit of armor.

                                            >Your black T-shirt with super rad looking skulls and bones on it.

                                            >It's what you put on either when you're gonna spend the day doing something really cool and fun, or when you're about to do bad things like the little villain you are.

                                            >And it just so happens that both are the case on this day.

                                            >Only a few minutes later and your parents are calling up the stairs for you. "Come down and meet Cadance!"

                                            >Oh, what a foolish mistake they made, calling you downstairs and having yet another doomed babysitter watch over you when you're even too old for one these days anyway.

                                            >They will rue this day!

                                            >Menacingly open your bedroom door and slither down the second floor hallway, soon peering over the bannister like a ruthless emperor looking down his nose at gladiators in the Colosseum.

                                            >---

                                            >Candy pulled up into the driveway after making sure she was at the right house.

                                            >The bubblegum from her mouth stretches as far as it can go as she blows her last bubble for the day, letting the sweet morsel give off a loud pop before turning off the engine of the car her parents just got her.

                                            >The thumping EDM she was playing through the speakers goes silent.

                                            >Candy can hear herself breathe once more.

                                            >The house towers over her after she opens the door and lets the breeze brush by her smooth shoulders.

                                            >After finding somewhere reasonable outside to throw away the discarded bubblegum, she shuts the door and stretches for a brief moment while she knows no one can see her at this vantage point yet.

                                            >Especially no one inside the house... don't want to get the family suspicious about the way she arrived dressed like this.

                                            >Tight denim jeans with a clingy black tank top with shoulder straps too thin to hide her bra straps decorating her silky skin.

                                            >A distant daytime owl hoots in the distance as another gentle breeze tickles Candy's shoulders.

                                            >Candy licks her lips once then slips into a jacket before appearing before the parents, then heads up to the front door.

                                            >Rings the doorbell once and waits, wondering if these three she's to watch over are going to be loud or quiet.

                                            >The mother and father answer the door at the same time.

                                            >"Hi! The uhh, Elf family?" Candy gives them a friendly point to indicate she's taking a guess.

                                            >"That's us!" The father answers. "Come on in!"

                                            >"You must be..." The mother begins, not remembering the sitter's name off the top of her head yet.

                                            >"Cadance. Right?" The father fills in.

                                            >"That's me." A very bubbly Cadance puts on her family-friendly persona while humbly trotting into the front room. "It's nice to meet you, your house looks so pretty!"

                                            >"I just rearranged all the pillows and curtains the other day!" The mother responds with a warm smile. "I'm glad you like it!"

                                            >"See? I knew the tapestry was a good idea!" The father joins in again, looking over at the large canvas of a beautiful forest path draped over one of the far walls.

                                            >"Oh hush, I never said not to put it up!" The mother playfully puts her hands on her hips and laughs. "I just didn't want you going up on that ladder too many times."

                                            >Candy plays along with the friendly introductory conversation with the parents for some time before the sound of small tennis shoes galloping against the hard kitchen floor diverts everyone's attention towards itself.

                                            >"Oh, here's two of our sons now!" The father swallows his previous disappointment to still proudly introduce his sons to a new person, prior to hoping that disappointment won't have a reason to resurface this time.

                                            >"Hey there, little guys! Aren't you just adorable!" Candy leans down a little bit to pat them on the heads while they play "Cowboys And Indians" with little plastic toy guns in the midst of circling around their parents introducing them by name to the pink girl from the local high school.

                                            >Amused, Candy looks on at them, but is glad she's not going to have to put up with them for more than just today and tonight if she she remembers is correct.

                                            >Hopefully, she can send them to bed early or something so she can have some peace and quiet once it's nighttime.

                                            >"They're the youngest ones." The mother starts. "I'm sure you can see they're quite the handful."

                                            >"Oh that won't be a problem. They're only for today and tonight, yes?"

                                            >"Yep. It's our older one who's gotten himself in a little trouble recently." The father starts off but doesn't go too far into detail. "He's the one you'll have to keep an eye on."

                                            >"No problem." Candy nods as the daytime owl hoots outside once again.

                                            >She almost wants to give you a look as she sees you peer over the bannister within the next couple of minutes.

                                            >At very first sight, she can tell that you're one of those troublemakers that try to look mean.

                                            >Not knowing how adorable they are when they do so.

                                            >Your slow descent down the stairs isn't nearly as menacing as you think it is, but Candy doesn't bother popping your bubble for now.

                                            >"This is Cadance. She's gonna be hanging out here for today until we get home." Your father steps aside so you can see her.

                                            >This sitter is nowhere near as old as you thought she'd be.

                                            >She looks way closer to your age than your parents' ages.

                                            >There's a little hint of something you don't know how to identify that you swallow instead of your childish pride.

                                            >It happened right when you saw her, but you didn't think anything else of it after you parents started talking to you again about how they're about to leave.

                                            >They were waiting for Cadance to arrive so they could head off.

                                            >Damn, they really didn't want to deal with you for any longer today, and you weren't even doing anything besides staying grounded.

                                            >Which, of course, made its way into the conversation.

                                            >A conversation that led to your father giving the babysitter the keys to his tool shed.

                                            >He gives you a look that says "you think I didn't find out last time you used my screwdriver kit to unlock doors?".

                                            >It's explained that you're not allowed to play video games or watch TV, and that the basement room the console and wires are locked inside of is to remain off limits with the door locked.

                                            >You begin to fume, smoke coming out of your ears and a tea kettle noise rising from your throat.

                                            >"Make sure he doesn't pickpocket the keys off of ya." You dad takes one last verbal jab before getting his jacket.

                                            >Only a couple of minutes later and your parents are out the door, leaving you and your two brothers alone with this babysitter you just met.

                                            >It happened before you could even process it; you were just about to go back into your room and continue being your cringe self when the door shut while your brothers innocently continued their little game in the living room.

                                            >There wasn't enough time to get the introduction out of the way before she started up the stairs.

                                            >Your parents already drove away by the time it's too late to flee to your room... you didn't know you were supposed to flee.

                                            >For it's also already too late regarding something else you're not aware of yet.

                                            >You don't understand the soon-to-last implications of Candy jingling the keys in front of you, dropping them into your hands.

                                            >You don't realize it yet, but she's gaining leverage.

                                            >"It's okay. I'm a cool babysitter." Candy grins.

                                            ~