|The Story||The Authors|
|Jenna, though, wasn't worried. Why should she be? After all, she was the tallest and skinniest kid in school, maybe in the city, or the whole world even. Mr. Tickles cackled to himself. "Hmm.." he mused, "I should cackle more often." Jenna began to worry. If Mr. Tickles was that desperate, who knew? Jenna tried to run from Mr. Tickles, but her efforts were not rewarded. Just then walked by Sir Jubalee, the new substitute. Sir Jubalee was young, the youngest teacher in the school, or city. Maybe even the whole world. He had just graduated and it was his first day. All this would not hold any signifigance whatsoever if Sir Jubalee were not as fat as he was. Sir Jubalee was the fattest THING anyone had ever seen. And he was just a kid. Sort of. Mr. Tickles contemplated.|
|He wasn't that old...and he certainly did have a lot of meat on him, but -- but no! Absolutely not! One must have some standards! One did not just go around indiscriminately eating adults, who tasted bad, who tasted of their small petty souls and bad personal habits and rancid grey diets. Now children, on the other hand, are delicious! Mr. Tickles had kidnapped a young child of four just the week before, and grilled him over a mesquite fire and served him with a delicate sauce molé. He had never tasted anything better. It would have to be that boy, no matter what impertinent Jenna suggested to him. As a female alter-ego, a ripple in his Jungian shadow, she was something of a pain in the ass, so he folded her up and returned her to his wallet where he kept her between an old condom and the business card of one Thomas Augenthaler, Mesmerist. He jammed the wallet into his back pocket and returned to the sharpening of his cleavers and knives.|
Meanwhile across the street at St Mary di Giovanni Apostolic Elementary Sister Mary Donatien Alphonse prowled the halls looking for infractions. She was in a foul mood. A thin prickle of sweat shone on the downy hair of her upper lip and her ill fitting dentures rattled beneath her chiding tongue. She'd had a rotten day. A splitting headache and a nasty rash on her buttocks had not improved her temperment. Even the soft squeak of her own orthopedic shoes on the much polished linoleum was driving itself deep into her skull. But ever determined and patient she knew that if she walked along long these halls long enough she would eventually catch up with some minor miscreant who could pay for the throbbing of her temples. But to her ever increasing annoyance the children seemed to be behaving especially meek and humble today just to spite her.|
Her left talon clutched at her ruler. It had been made especially for her for her 25th anniversary at the school. It was a shining piece of pollished ebony with specially fitted finger grooves carved into the well worn section at the lower end. Its usefullness as a measure had been dubious to begin with (although it was precisely 12" long, it lacked entirely any other indications of length along its shining black back.) but now the only thing it seemed to measure was yelps and gasps and the occasional drop of blood from children's misbehaving knuckles and backsides.
Just as she was about to give up temporarily and scuttle her way back to the teacher's lounge for another Chesterfield king and her umpteenth cup of weak industrial coffe when she spotted fat little Jeremy McDougle furtively shove the but end of a Hersey bar between his rotund cherry cheeks. The grin she broke into made the little black hairs on the mole that seperated her eyebrow dance. She had found exactly what she was looking for.
|"Jeremy McDougle!" snapped Sister Mary. "I know you're a Dextroid, and you want to be different, but get real! You're the only fat kid in the school and you know it! Don't you realize what happens to fat kids?" "Biout >KMtrs. Alplhionse.,..." he began. "No buts, young man," said Sister Mary. "Biut he sdoesmnt't eat CDedxteewtyr-" Jeremy's laat word broke off suddenly as Sister Mary slapped him with her ruler, so hard that she was catapulted out the window and landed in Mr. Tickle's closet with Jenna! Jenna, who on failing to get out of the closet for the 63d time was on the verge of tears, explained her hopeless situation. Mr. Tickles was about to butcher her and eat her for dinner just as soon as he cleaned and sharpened his 478 peices of cutlery! And Mr. Tickles was a faster utensil preparer than anybody would have guessed. "Well," said Sister Mary, "the solution is simple. Mr. Tickles likes fat kids. We could just give him that bratty Dextroid Jeremy! After all, you're so much skinnier than he is." Then Jenna explained how Mr. Tickles had chosen her over Jeremy against all odds. Sister Mary wanted to say that Jenna had been pretty careless and stupid, but seeing the tears of despair well up in Jenna's eyes, and remembering that Jenna had been a straight-A star student for three years straight, she decided to forgive her, just this once. And after all, she could get good publicity for preventing a murder. Suddenly the door swung open. There was Mr. Tickles, with 478 peices of clean, sharp cutlery piled behind him...|