What’s that apposed to mean?” [Thirty seconds later-] “But… Why do the humans eat the amimals? Why non’t they bess eat the eldoahwy humans? – but… they’re bonna zie, anyways...” Lily murmured. Her eyelids grew heavy and she slowly started dozing off. One of my guards - Luck - dived in front of Ezzy’s entourage to frisk them. “HAWWT!” he yelled. Ezequador kept onward and did not pay Luck any mind. Jahva feared for Luck’s life as he dodged Ezequador’s foot and proceeded to climbed up his robe. “WHEW’S WIWWY?” When Lily heard Luck, she felt wide-awake again. The attention span of a spy-cherub - so short, all you have to do is wave another toy in their faces and they’ll forget their even sleepy! Lily swooped down from Ezzy’s shoulder and joined Luck. “I HAVE A BED.” She proudly boasted as they both frisked Ezequador. Lucky whined like a puppy. “Lily share your bed.” said Ezequador. Lily paused, interpreted, and whined like a puppy. We - the generated nukes - enjoyed capturing territory, and such. In one of the arena’s control booths, Honeysuckle rode Joel’s hand, pretending to pilot an aircraft, as he gave orders to the alumni. Whenever his hand was in motion, she would make engine noises. Whenever it stopped, she would make a tire screeching sound. “OAHRRRR!” So - there I was - standing in Ezzy’s throne with my head down, leaning upright therein; my little visor covered my face as I grabbed my crotch with my – button packed – gloved left hand. I had seized Ezequador’s throne and there wasn’t a DAMN thing Joelnaq could do to stop me. My holy guards, carefully, battled with Joelnaq to protect me from his gigantic flaming-blade. My identical twin and spy: Cape Thoughtful, the demolisher – Demo, for short - remained close within the clouds in case I needed an air strike or something. “O.k., Groove. No more playtime.” Witichkin told me Ezequador was on his way and I had to move. After I attempted to shoo him away, he gawndihowled and got into a tug-of-war with me. Yeah, I admit it [Hmmm]; I threw a small hissy fit [H-HMMM]; but I didn’t cry [HMMMMM-H-H-HMMMMM]. Well, maybe a teensy-weensy bit. O.k., maybe a lot but that guy was , like, eighty-three times my size... I bit him and possessed the throne. “Ow! You little f’’’er!” grumbled Witichkin. “Groove, quit being bad.” said Ezequador. I popped out of my newly seized property and noticed two teenage Amolvian-girls arguing at the arena entrance. “I don’t know what you think about me, but whatever it is- get it right, now, before you get hurt!” one of the girls said. I performed my signature liftoff to near them both where they could hear me. I can’t fly, but I merely become lighter. Tiny fireworks – lit and going off - sparklers and rockets discharged from my costume. “NO…! ZON’T FIIGHT…YOAHWH TOOHWH PWHETTY…TO…HWH...FIGHT!” I interrupt them with my, miniature, abrasive body language and charming wit. They disregarded me and continued. Upset, I got onto my back and pouted. “H-hmmm…hihh.” I kicked my feet - like a bug on its back trying to flip over - and bawled. I didn’t get my way. I flipped onto my hands and knees after I noticed that my whimpering had also interrupted them. I sniffled once, grinned, and stared at them as if I wasn’t crying for real. Then, I lifted off and landed on Ezequador’s shoulder. Our gadgets are like one of our organs. We naturally used them to meet our desires. I went into charm mode and downloaded a toy microphone. The microphone was bigger than I was when its construction had completed. With both arms wrapped around it, I held it near Ezequador’s mouth. Finally, I hit the ‘super auto-pilot’ button on my glove and possessed the microphone. “Any shouw outs?” I asked Ezequador as I hovered and held the microphone to his mouth. “C’mon, dood, even Chwist had shouw outs - Zohn the Bappiss; Pauww; Peetoah; Guatemawa.”
“OH! I get it…!” proclaimed Ezzy. “Well, I shout out to everyone.”
“DOOWD...! Wou can’t, juss, say evowy-wom? Wou haf to say theiw mames oah ihss wood!”
“Aw, man! I forgot to shout too, didn’t I?”
“We’ww haf to woahk on that.”
“Supoah Gwoove,” called Demo, who was hovering above Ezequador’s head with his arms crossed. The look on his tiny face read: I mean business. He was a spy-cherub with a little dark-purple cape and matching gloves on. He also wore a breastplate with acoustic guitar strings fastened to the front of it, diagonally. They started strumming and slapping themselves, producing a soothing-ambient tune, as Demo continued, “Whis isn’t the time foah games.” Demo, passively, warned as he hovered. “Well, Demo, everyone’s got to show up first…right?” Ezequador asked with his head tilted back. I popped out of the microphone. “Demo, non’t be such a wimp!” I exclaimed as the toy microphone fell. I sank into Ezzy’s lap and turned to look at the seating area. It was a full house and everyone was growing impatient. “HOWY CWAP…!” I yelled. Joelnaq stood. My guards: Watch, Luck, Honeysuckle, and Rosebush hung on to his armor for dear-life. Those of us without wings had to climb to get high. Rosebush hovered toward Jahva’s throne with a little automatic shotgun. Her dress is holy garment. It double clocks; it evolves; and it holy-nukes whoever sees it. Our angelic skin does the same, so, she’s double hot! She has that Amolvian lift-off that I have as well as the ability to fly like Demo. Palixine was sitting on Jahva’s right knee. Rosebush landed onto Palixine’s lap and busted into flames. Palixine quickly tried to shove her off. “HMMMMM…!” Rosebush cried. After realizing how soothing holy fire was, Palixine gave up and snatched Rosebush up like a favorite rag-doll. I went into super charm mode. I downloaded a huge intercom system. The speakers were big and I may have broken them if I tried mounting them alone. Yet, Ezzy knew what to do with his psycho kinesis after I nearly blew his ears off during the sound check. If he wasn’t gawndihowled, he’d be sort of deaf! I possessed the intercom mic, hovered, and kept it at Ezzy’s mouth. “Amolvians, I give to you… the return of my brothers Joelnaq…AND AZARBAN!” Super Amolvia cheered, wept, drank, and feasted gratefully; the alumni concurrently performed the windmill blade emitting a bright gleam from their swords. Everyone flared up and worshiped the Dipsel brothers in exchange for their extensive satisfaction. The speakers played orchestral scores to my exact movement, like an animated film. I took advantage and started charming the crowd with gifts. Demo and I sang into the microphone. Our breath-taking performance overwhelmed the alumni, women, and children. They grew very emotional as I sang with my powerful voice. My voice was tough, but easy to swallow, while Demo’s voice was softer than the softest of male singers. Demo nailed the chorus, with the auto play activated on the guitar strings in his breastplate and singing with three voices at one time like a one-man-choir. We still sounded like a couple of super under-aged kids though. They hugged, cuddled, cried, and cheered as our vocals warmed their souls. Then, they all flared up with holy flames. I went into super autopilot, which is where I’m automatically flung into the air when I sink into sort of an invisible trampoline trailing underneath me… I break dance and bounce around nonstop all over the hands, shoulders, heads, arms, and knees of the alumni. I even did a four-move combo on Okarinj’s belly. Luck replicated Rosebush, for no reason. With a gadgetry-dress on, he climbed onto Ezequador’s shoulder whimpering like a puppy, and fell asleep. I used my flamethrower in super groove mode to light a stick of Amolvian dynamite. Super groove mode is where I break dance and projectiles discharge from within my costume toward whomever or whatever I lock-on. My flamethrower is, merely, a part of my nuke. Its flames are holy fire, so, its purpose is to barbecue devils and comfort men. I can also fire missiles and bullets. Now, those, men may want to stand clear-of. They’re real. I’m like a walking gun, in super groove mode. It has various assault rifles, shotguns, pistols, spears, daggers, swords, and all sorts of grapples! Luck grabs the dynamite and hugs it like a teddy bear, while smacking his tiny lips. Angelic skin is explosive resistant anyway, although it may seem really soft and delicate. Ezequador could sense within his heart that God would never let us be harmed. “Hey, check out this guy’s timing.” I told Ezequador, having aged a bit and gaining better-advanced tongue. Watch hadn’t even noticed. When he did, he locked onto the area of the fuse, with his gadget – the infinite watch - and stopped ti
me in the targeted area. Our lock-ons or targeting systems are like our organs too. “You know you weally shouldn’t pway wike that, mastoah.” Expressed Watch, calmly, childlike and wise, with his head tilted down and his eyes covered with his visor. Luck, Watch, and I – all - have the same modern baseball caps. Demo and I possessed one another and, together, we became a miniature mercenary with guitar strings on its little bulletproof vest. We called, “Gawndihowl morph!” and split up a few seconds after we wore out our ability to hurl holy fire explosives.
While trying to climb into a bowl of good-n-cold milk, Honeysuckle flipped the entire bowl onto herself. “HHH...HOAHHHW-W-W!” she shrieked. Palixine tried to help her, but Honey-suckle bit her hand and possessed the bowl. Slurping noises came from underneath the bowl. I was watching, crying in laughter, stealing food from the giant table they made for Joelnaq and Azarban. I was sitting on top of a turkey, and then I lay down and started rolling around laughing. I fell into a
Super Musicians Breakthrough Do Page 15
