Vincent and Quince walked around the room called the House
of Lords in the Parliament Building.
Vincent was awed by the richly decorated room. One end had a single throne nestled on a
special red carpeted platform for the King or Queen. Rows of red upholstered benches lined each
side of the room, looking like bleachers for the lords to watch the action on
the main floor. Above them, carved
wooden knights looked down. Twelve
colorful stained-glass windows, with images of all the Kings and Queens of England
since the Conquest, allowed light to shine into the hall.
"So, Vinny, where's the Doc want us to put this 'ere
pen?" said Quince, focusing his good eye on a black ball-point pen. His other eye had a droopy eyelid, causing
him to tilt his head to see. "Let's
get this done so we's can go 'ome. Me
favorite show is on the telly tonight."
Vincent sighed heavily rolling his eyes. "Vincent, if you please! I hate it when you call me that. And may I
have a moment to enjoy this majestic room..." With outstretched arms, he slowly circled in
the middle of the room. "Feast your
eyes upon this magnificent room. I adore
the neo-gothic style."
“And I adore the thought of gettin’ this done and
goin’ home,” said Quince with a deep sigh.
"Have you ever seen
such adornment? Look at this gold work…
the red carpet… and red leather upholstery." Vincent examined one of the bench seats. "I wonder if I should have my dining
chairs done in that shade of red. Did
you know this room is also referred to as the House of Peers? Over 400 Lords come here to sit in
council..." He strolled towards the
throne safeguarded behind a brass railing.
“Lovely,” yawned Quince.
"Will you just look at this? The Queen's throne
is covered in gold. Such magnificence
this room has… To quote the world-renown architect Frank Lloyd Wright…" And like a Shakespearian actor, Vincent
poised himself in front of the throne as if to address the room.
“Whatever,” yawned Quince again.
"…Every great architect is, necessarily, a great
poet…" He brought his hands
together. "He must be a great
original interpreter…"
"'ey Vinny," said Quince.
"…Of his time… his day… his age…" Vincent
was lost in the last words of the quote.
"Vinny…" Quince shook his head with disinterest. "Yea, that's nice. Now about this 'ere pen…"
Vincent glared at him.
"Fine, my feather-brained friend… According to the plan, we are to place the
object in question in a prominent location such as the main desk," said
Vincent, annoyed by Quince's disinterest.
"I 'ate it when you call me a feather-brain,"
said Quince.
"Now we are even," said Vincent.
Quince stuck out his tongue and, like a four-year-old
tattle tale, added "Ha! Ha! Ha!"
"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted.
We place the pen on the main desk of the room. We place it in plain sight for
all to see." Vincent yanked the pen
from Quince's hand and pointed at what he considered the main desk.
"And what 'appens next?"
"Once again, as I mentioned, someone, perhaps one
of the Lords, will find it and question what exactly it is. You see, for the less intelligent, ball-point
pens were not invented until later."
Vincent admired the pen like a delicate flower. "Ah the history of the ball-point pen is
a fascinating one."
"I see," said Quince. And just 'ow much later?"
"How much later for what?"
"Until the pen was invented?"
"Oh…” Vincent fumbled for an answer. “A few years
from now."
Quince studied Vincent for a moment. "You don't know, do you?"
"I do not," Vincent replied. "It is not important at this moment."
"You know," said Quince. "We've placed different things in
different times, but nuttin' seems to 'appen."
"Too true, but we must try our best, mustn't we."
Quince contemplated Vincent's response. "That doesn't make sense."
"It does to the knowledgeable mind, like myself
of course," said Vincent.
Without further questioning, Quince shrugged of his
shoulders. They looked at the empty
desktop for a moment.
"Well," sighed Vincent. "Let us get this done." Vincent
laid the pen in the center of the desk, adjusting it several times before being
satisfied with its final resting place.
"How delightful.
And now for the spell." With his hands over the pen, Vincent
recited each word of the incantation in his most dramatic tone.
"…In hoc uno loco et tempora…” said Vincent.
“There. I think that should do it. I just love that spell. I call it the stay-in-place spell. In a
little while, the pen should become part of this time and place."
Quince glanced at the pen then Vincent. "Do you think it'll work this time?"
"I don't see why it should not. I memorized the spell and practiced for
several hours…"
"I see.
But remember the last times…"
Vincent interrupted him."Yes, yes, I heard you. However, this time, I studied the spell
closely, and rest assured it will work.
Now, we should be off," said Vincent pointedly.
From out of nowhere came a voice.
"Hey bonehead!" shouted Rose.
Vincent spun around looking for the source of the
insult and spotted her standing at the back of the room.
"Hello boys!" Rose greeted them, grinning, slowly strutting
towards them.
"'Ey Vinny, she called you bonehead,"
laughed Quince, whinnying and snorting like a horse. Arching his eyebrow and pursing his lips,
Vincent glared down at him.
From another corner of the hall, Ari strolled towards
Quince. "Laugh it up, gooberstain!" He shook his finger and winked at
Quince who stopped laughing.
"Having fun?" said Rose, zigzagging toward
him. With her hands behind her back out of sight, she started twirling her
index fingers clockwise. Pale pink
strings of light worked their way around them like a rubber band. She knew the best approach to launching an
orb was to keep her opponent from seeing it.
"Well, if it isn't our old friends," said
Vincent with a smirk, rubbing his hands together. "And what brings you to the House of
Lords on this lovely day?"
"We were just in the neighborhood and thought we
might see what was happening today in lovely British law-making?" said
Rose mocking him.
"We heard you gentlemen might be planning to
leave a present for our ghostly friends?"
"Us?" said Vincent with a surprised look on
his face. "Why, we are here to
admire the majesty of this gorgeous room."
Rose laughed. "Planning
on some home re-decorating, are you? We
know you two are up to something devious."
Vincent shook his head. "Then why did you ask, my dear?"
"I wanted to see if you would tell me what you
left."
It was Quince who gave away the location when he quickly
glanced to look at the pen resting on the desk. Thanks to his quick glance, Ari could now
complete his part of the mission -- grab the pen. Rose's part was to take care of Vincent and
Quince.
Behind her, the strings of red light had formed a
glowing orb of electricity about the size of a baseball. She worked it in her hands, rolling it back
and forth, building its energy. Forming
them behind her back gave her the advantage.
Vincent had no clue what size orb to expect. Quince watched as Ari slowly moved towards
the desk. Ari taunted him by grinning
and waving daintily. All four were like
cats just waiting to pounce on the pen and each other.
Moving closer to Rose, Vincent had put his hands
behind his back, forming a light blue orb about the size of a golf ball. He hadn't mastered the art of the orbs like
Rose, whose legendary finesse and skill in the art was unmatched. Vincent's hope was not to be injured, at
worse just knocked out.
"Come now, maybe we can work this out?" said
Vincent as Rose forced him from the throne's platform.
"No, I am not in a negotiating mood,"
replied Rose. "You two and your
good friend the Doctor must understand we take our mission seriously."
"Pray,
enlighten us. Help us understand. What exactly is... your mission?" Vincent's sarcastic tone only infuriated her.
"To leave history alone and let the chips lie
where they fell," declared Rose.
She turned to the left then back to face him. "Oh and one other mission… We are not to put up with rats like you!"
Without warning, Rose hurled the red orb from behind
her back right at Vincent. Once airborn, it sounded like a mortar shell --
first a long, slow whistle then a rattling explosion of sparks -- and would be
just as destructive to its target. Vincent
ducked while fumbling to pitch his little pale-blue orb. Rose's orb missed his left ear by an inch, hitting
the gold-colored wall, exploding into a red starburst then faded quickly. Vincent's weak orb flew by Rose into the
center of the throne's seat exploding into blue stardust.
"Ha! Still
haven't mastered the orbs?" Rose immediately formed another and hurled it
at Vincent who scrambled for cover behind a row of benches.
As it flew by, her orb knocked his hat off
his head. "Excuse me!
That is my best hat."
"Why am I not surprised that your hat is best at
something and not you."
"Now that was just mean." Vincent pouted. Another red orb flew towards him as he ducked
back behind a bench. "And that was
just rude! I wasn't ready."
"You poor dear," said Rose sweetly with a
hint of sarcasm. "Come out from
behind there and fight like a man. How
about if you take a shot at me? Come
on. I'll give you a freebie."
Vincent rose slowly from his hiding place, suspicious
of her kindness. "Really?" he
said tenderly. "Do you mean it?"
Rose was gracious and held her hands out in front of
her. Vincent, overcome with delight,
excitedly began to spin his fingers clockwise.
When his orb reached the size of a tangerine, he threw it at her. The pale blue orb barely made it across the room
before falling to the floor and fizzling out.
"What was that?" questioned Rose
impatiently.
"Oh, I am sorry, but I was nervous." Vincent was apologetic, embarrassed by his
orb's poor performance.
"Not as nervous as you're going to be." Rose started hurling orbs so fast that
Vincent scarcely had time to move. He
ran between the rows of benches, her orbs barely missing him.
While the scurrying Vincent dodged orbs, Quince had run
towards Ari and kicked him in the shin.
"Ouch! Oh,
you nasty eel." Ari grabbed his
shin grimacing in pain.
"You think that 'urt. You 'aven't felt nuttin' yet." Quince's claim to fame was playing
dirty. In his younger days, he had been
a prize boxer and knew how to take down the heaviest and sizable
opponents. He didn't learn the art of
orbs, but he knew how to throw a punch in the right places. With his left fist, Quince's next blow was
right between Ari's legs. He strained
and bent over in agony. Quince stepped
back, observing his opponent, and preparing for his next move.
"Had enough?
Come on now you big lug! Let's
fight this out." Quince waited.
Ari knew this would be tricky, requiring a bit of
fancy footwork. He towered over the
short and stout Quince. Clenching his
teeth, Ari managed to straighten up. His
shin throbbed. His groin ached.
Without notice, Quince sprang towards Ari who in turn took
a step to the right. As Quince sailed
by, Ari jabbed him in the left ribs.
Quince screamed in pain as he landed on his stomach. Ari immediately stepped on Quince's back
pinning him down on the floor.
With surprising strength, Quince pushed up from the
floor causing Ari to fall backwards.
Ari staggered a few steps before catching his balance, giving Quince
enough time to leap up, straddle Ari's leg and chomp into his calf.
With Quince firmly attached to his calf, Ari screamed
in agony and shook his leg in hopes of ejecting his foe.
On the other side of the room, Vincent ran from Rose
and her barrage of miniature red orbs.
Exhausted, he couldn't concentrate on creating his orbs fast enough to
match hers. He turned just in time to
see Rose hurl a weaker orb. It struck
him right between his eyes. She had no
intention of killing him, just knocking him out. Vincent fell backwards to the floor, stiff
as a board. Rose eyed him for any signs
of movement before drawing near. She
crept over and tapped him with her foot.
“He’s out.”
Rose turned to see Quince wrapped around Ari's leg, trying to dig his
teeth into it.
"Damn, he plays
rough.” Within seconds, she had formed another orb in her hands.
Glancing up, Ari saw her and prepared for one last
action.
"Hey gooberstain," shouted Rose. Still straddling Ari's leg, Quince looked up
as she threw her orb. Ari kicked up his
besieged leg. Rose’s orb hit him right
in the center of Quince's forehead. Stunned, he fell to the floor. Ari limped away from his opponent.
"Ah, nice." Ari complimented her.
Ari bent down, picked up the knocked-out Quince,
limped across the room, and plopped him down next to Vincent.
"Aren't they cute? Just like a couple of sleeping
babies," said Rose. "Look how
his mouth hangs open like a cod fish.
Reminds me of the fish I used to catch.”
Ari gave Rose a hearty congratulation. “Great job. Excellent control."
"Thank you. I have been practicing. I have
some posters of my least favorite people hanging on my walls at home. I use them for target practice."
Ari laughed and picked up the pen from the desk and
slipped it into his shirt pocket. Rose
and Ari left the House of Lords.
"Dunderheads!” said Ari, limping from his gnawing
injury.
"You know they are not intelligent," added
Rose. "Did I tell you about the
time they left a permanent marker in the middle of the Sistine Chapel while
Michelangelo was painting it? They did
not even wait to see if anyone would notice it.
I watched them leave, then walked over and picked it up. How stupid can they be? Herkeimer has some interesting jackasses
working for him."
Rose recounted an experiment of trying to leave an
item in another time. "I remember
Xavier, Albert and I tried to use that placement spell. We went back in time about an hour and placed
a hamburger on a plate on the kitchen table in the Steer's kitchen. We returned to the time we originally left
and waited for that hamburger to appear.
You know what happened…"
"What?" Ari asked.
"The hamburger appeared about an hour later… That
is how long it takes the spell to work.
But, there was a problem. The
hamburger and the bun lasted for a brief moment… Xavier ate it. He said it was delicious. Of course, it made him sick later, but we
blamed that on eating hour-old meat."
“Next mission," said Ari then disappeared.
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What fun!
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