The Lady, the Captain, and the Killer Scones
Caitlin and Bethany Currie
All was not right in the house of Currie (no, not the food (or comb)). No, it was not. Otherwise there would be no story. Duh. ANYWAY, there was a lack of noise or usual chaos as the two parents were missing and the three forlorn children sat in a mope at being trapped inside on this BEA-U-TI-FUL summer day. It was only 98 ° instead of the usual 110°! The younger boy, or the ‘brat’ as he was fondly called by his older younger twin sister, was somewhere doing something that is completely irrelevant to the story so therefore not worth mentioning (a.k.a. we can’t remember). Moving on…
The older younger twin sat at the kitchen table hunched over this little thing we call a ‘Cook book’ not a ‘Book of Things That Go BOOM!’ this time (Ah, that faithful day that belongs in another story elsewhere) with the older older twin. The younger older twin was named Bethany, the ‘Lady’ of the household (however loosely that term may be used) and the older older twin named Caitlin but more commonly known as a) Captain when not in trouble or b) COME BACK HERE, CAITLIN HEATHER CURRIE! when in trouble. Sadly, the latter was more frequently used. But there they were, eager yet bored eyes hunting for some new source of nutrients for this rather dull tea party they were hosting. Somehow the dolls were rejecting their crackers and the tea had yet to be touched. Which made no sense to the poor little twins as this time Caitlin hadn’t poured in the orange juice. They just couldn’t fathom that dolls can’t drink or eat. I mean, look at the doll on TV that ate that girl’s hair! Why shouldn’t Cabbage Patch dolls from the seventies not be able to eat?! HUH?!
(Now that Caitlin’s back in the strait jacket and in her happy place (Dear God, please save the bunnies. Amen) we shall soldier on.)
“What about the… this thing?” Caitlin began before changing her mind at the challenging pronunciation of some weird French… thingy. Bethany shook her head, screwing up this interesting face that was a mix of ‘Eww… that looks like boogers’ and ‘Is that sugar?’. Sadly, she has lost the talent as the years have gone on.
“No! That is not something for a tea party.” She replied snootily with her nose in the air. (-insert Caitlin being strangled here-) “Instead we shall have English Scones.” (Yesh, she really spoke like that) Then, for some reason, there was a roll of lightning and crack of thunder that made no sense as there wasn’t a cloud, not even those retarded wispy looking things, in the sky. (That’s not-)(Shut up, Bethany)
“… Did you just-?“ Caitlin, the older older twin for those of you short termed folks, began.
“Don’t even go there, Caitlin. Daddy cracks thunder, not I.” Bethany snapped, all claws out. She had been hanging with the cats too long.
“Really? I thought he just cut cheese.” Caitlin said with a lost look in her eyes to her sister’s skeptical evaluating gaze to see if she was actually being serious. Sadly, she was.
“…Same thing moronic imbecile.” The younger and moodier twit, I mean, twin replied dryly.
“Oh. But the English School is what we’re making right?” Caitlin grinned, staring at the scrumptious picture of these bread thingies.
“Oh yes, Caitlin. We’re going to eat English Schools. Complete with students and teachers.” Bethany returned with her sister’s usual biting sarcasm. Hard to believe they’re only eleven.
“Sweet. Do I get the principal?” She returned with a grin, ducking the blow aimed for her head. Successfully avoiding that only to have forehead meet tabletop as she went a bit too low. Several funny noises and dishes rattling as Bethany hopped to work later…
“Bethany, we’re out of-“
“Hush! I’m trying to focus on measuring the precise measurement of this stuff.”
“But!”
“Caitlin.” Bethany said in a warning tone that eerily sounded like their mom. Naturally, Caitlin shut up and went hunting once again through the spice cabinet. You know what, this stuff looks a lot like that stuff in spelling so it’ll work. What’s in a name, right? Besides, it was all cooking stuff anyway so it all had to be roughly the same, right? Made sense in the older older twin’s mind.
A sloshing of this, a mix of that, throw in the whole egg and not just the whites- oh, watch that eggshell- too late- and one hour in the oven later brings out a masterpiece!- -
-of DOOOOM!!!!
“Bethany, that doesn’t look like the picture in the book thinger-ma-bobber.” Caitlin commented as they stood over looking their creation wondering ‘where in the blue blazers did we go wrong?’ and ‘ok, maybe it does make a difference’.
“Tell me about it.” Bethany agreed, poking one lumpy thing with a fork.
“Well, these are hard lumpy and well, don’t look edible.” Caitlin frowned before an idea sparked in her mind. There was but one way to see if they were truly edible and that was to- “Let’s see if Honey eats it.” The poor dog.
The German shepherd mix trotted happily into the kitchen completely unaware of what her charges were up to. That was, until they shoved a thing that at one time might have been food but now, certainly not. She looked at them before cautiously sniffing it. The look that related to what would be in a vegan’s eyes after he realized that he had just eaten meat crossed her face. Adios amigas. Good luck with that thing.
“I’m not eating it.” The twins said together at once, shoving the tray of the rock hard bread at one another. Bread lumps. Ugh.
“There’s no way mom and dad can know about this.”
“I agree. But if they do know, I’m so blaming you.” Caitlin agreed before giving her sister fair warning of her intentions. The look she received was one that could rival a goose before it charged. Murder.
“What do we do with it?” Bethany demanded, a bit hotly.
–Insert thinking music from game shows-
“Garbage disposal?”
“Caitlin, the biscuits would break it.”
“The birds?”
“That’s it! Over the back fence!”
“Quick Robin! To the Bat-mobile!” Caitlin shouted, striking a pose. “OUCH! Dem biscuits hurt!”
“ENGLISH FIGHTING… SCONE-THINGIES!” Bethany and Caitlin screamed at once with a shared glance and smirk. Parading out the back door, waving the scone tray proudly. There would have been fireworks but sadly, Mommy and Daddy hid the matches from the last time Caitlin got hold of them and set her sister’s hair on fire. No worries, only Caitlin was hurt as Bethany beat her into a pulp with singed ends. Lucky Caitlin, being made of rubber helps so much.
“Time to get rid of the evidence of our going astray!” Bethany announced, grabbing hold of one of the larger lumps.
“Yea! What she said!”
“Here we go!” Bethany shouted happily, ripped back her arm then let that sucker fly.
☼
Mr. Bird was a happy bird. He had his share of worms and grubs and bread that humans threw him. Not the worms but the bread mind you. So, it would only be natural that he would see a nice tasty worm and dive. Sadly, this was not his lucky day. Not by far. Poor bird never saw it coming.
☼
“Oh my gosh! Did you see that?” Bethany screamed, hands thrown to her mouth in horror.
“Yea! Those feathers went everywhere! I didn’t think birds could explode! I gotta try that sometime!” Caitlin screamed much too excitedly. Bethany’s horror switched to being just plain ol’ disgust. She really worried about the state of mind her sister was in sometimes. Caitlin, by this time, realized that that was not what Bethany had meant. “I mean, you pegged that bird! How dare you! Bad, Bethany, bad!”
“I KILLED IT YOU MORON!!! ARE YOU REALLY THAT STUPID?! NOW GET UP ON THAT FENCE AND SEE IF IT’S DEAD YOU CRAZY PERSON!!”
“Yessir!” Caitlin said before scrambling up, worried for her own skin now. She had seen the damage one scone could do and really didn’t want to see what a whole batch could manage.
“Well?” Asked a tearful voice as the older sister hung over the fence.
“Dude, they do have X’s for eyes. That’s wicked.”
“I killed a bird! With a scone!” Bethany wailed, tears gushing out from her eyes as her sister popped back over the fence and down beside her.
“Ohh... the bird police are gonna get you.” Her sister leered unhelpfully. Bad mistake.
“The bird police?! They’re gonna arrest and kill me, Caitlin! Quick, to the house!” Bethany screamed shoving the tray in Caitlin’s arms. “Get rid of them!”
Slinging the rest over the fence and the tray almost followed, no more birdie deaths this time, the two high tailed back inside and slammed and locked the doors. Bethany ran to wash the tray as Caitlin threw all discriminating evidence away through fits of insane cackling.
Now, you must wonder how Mommy and Daddy found out about this story that we decided to share. Well, the answer’s simple. Every murderer has to return to the scene of the crime, which is hard not to do when it’s your backyard, and face the guilt. Guess who’s not feeling guilty about it and revels in sharing this story. No, it’s not the younger older twin.