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Boys
Will Be Boys
“Flashlights?” “Check.” “Face paint?” “Check.” “Anti-presence
detection garments?” Silence. Sensing confusion, Jim restated bluntly, “Camouflage
clothing?” “Check.” “Compass?” “Check.” “Emergency energy supplement bars?” Dan looked in the gear bag and then over at his sandy-haired
best friend. “Negative. Somebody
ate them.” Mart tried to look as innocent as possible. Knowing it was a futile effort, he shrugged
his shoulders, grinning sheepishly. “I
was in dire need of nutritional sustenance.” “Ski caps?” “Check.” “Universal…” Jim was interrupted by a knock at his bedroom
door. With a curt nod from their
fearless leader, the male BWGs stealthily assumed
their preplanned positions. Once they were all in place, Jim calmly called,
“Come in!” Trixie, Honey, and Di bounded into Jim’s room to find him in a
chair, playing his harmonica. Brian lounged on the bed, scanning the recent
edition of Medical Monthly. Mart and Dan were seated by the computer,
engaged in a fierce battle of their favorite game, Ethiopian Ninja and the Pygmy Punx. “What are the most honorable members of our club up to?”
Trixie asked, plopping down on the bed atop her eldest brother’s stomach. Brian let out a gasp of pain.
He shoved his sister off him, and then sat upright. “Jeesh, Trix. You
could give a fella internal bleeding sitting on him
like that!” He yelped again as Trixie
whacked him in the ribs. Trixie sniffed indignantly as she
assumed ladylike position. “I’ll have you know, Brian Belden, I’m not nearly
as sturdy as I used to be.” “So, what’re you boys up to?” Honey,
knowing her best friend’s build was a sensitive subject, tactfully veered the
conversation in a new direction. “Not much. Just sitting around,” Jim
commented nonchalantly. Dan looked over at the girls, a grin
on his face. “I’ve been kicking Mart’s pygmy butt.” “I think you’re delusional, my
Ethiopian ninja nemesis!” Mart argued
good-naturedly. “I must insist upon a
rematch! Methinks my controller isn’t working properly.” Di giggled. “Gee, I really hate that we’re going to
miss a round of the Pygmy Punx, but we’re heading
to Crabapple Farm for our sleepover.” “And no boys allowed,” Honey added
sternly. “You’ve been officially
excluded from our slumber party.” “And here I had my curling iron and
eye shadow all packed in my Hello Kitty overnight bag,” Dan said, feigning
disappointment. “Well, in that case, Mr. Mangan, we can
make exceptions,” Trixie replied tartly.
“We need live bodies for our…experiments.” She gave a sinister laugh and rubbed her
hands together in wicked delight. “No, thanks!” Mart exclaimed. “You all can keep your giggling and hair
curlers and leg wax away from us, thank you very much.” “So exactly what do you girls do at slumber
parties?” Jim inquired, raising a ginger eyebrow. “Aside from all the giggling that keeps
everyone else awake at night, that is.” “Lots of stuff,” Di explained, her
violet eyes wide. “We give each other
makeovers and try on weird clothes. We
play Truth or Dare. And we talk about
boys.” Trixie giggled. “We eat
unhealthy portions of pizza and chocolate, and guzzle down gallons of
carbonated beverages. We listen to
music and dance in our underwear. And
we talk about boys.” “We watch so-called chick flicks which wouldn’t interest you
because they are violence-free, have a plot, and star incredibly hot
guys. And most importantly, we talk
about boys,” Honey added with a devilish grin. “So you talk about us,” Jim questioned, casting a furtive
glance in Trixie’s direction. Trixie snorted. “In
your dreams, Frayne.” However, a
tell-tale blush reddened her cheeks. “I was of the opinion that my cherished female sibling had a
yen for Ben,” Mart said nonchalantly.
“Perchance it’s the jesting Mr. Riker who consumes dear Beatrix’s reveries.” “If you value your life, Mart Belden, you’ll never talk about
my ‘yen for Ben’ ever again!” Trixie warned huffily. “That was the worst Thanksgiving of my
life!” “Trixie had a ‘yen for Ben’?” Dan hooted. “I must’ve been out chopping wood for that
one.” “That was before you moved here, Dan. Trixie didn’t actually have a ‘yen for
Ben’,” Jim clarified, his defensive manner catching the attention of everyone
but Trixie. “She pretended to like
Ben. It’s a long story.” “Yeah, one we don’t need to hear again,” Trixie snapped. “I’ve suffered enough for my generosity.” “Trixie has been forever scarred by her Ben experience,” Honey
retorted loyally. “But we took care of Ben at our last slumber party,” tittered
Di. “We made a Ben-voodoo doll and she
unleashed her fury upon it.” Brian snickered in amusement.
“I was wondering how that disfigured Ken doll got all those stick pins
in him. Here I blamed it on Bobby.” “Well, consider it a warning to never cross us,” Trixie
admonished, crossing her arms. “Speaking of Bobby, which I think we
were doing before the squaw’s veiled threat, have fun with the little monster
tonight, girls,” Mart taunted. Trixie wrinkled her nose.
“I thought he was going to be at the Lynches’ with Larry and Terry.” “Ah, yes, but that was before the youngest Belden decided to
baptize Mrs. Lynch’s new Himalayan,” Mart explained. “Mrs. Lynch was none too pleased at the
destruction Fluffy wrought trying to evade Esquire Belden’s clutches. She banished Bobby from the Lynch household
for a fortnight.” “Oh, poor Fluffy!” Di cried.
“Mummy simply adores her new cat.
I’m sure she was very angry!” “Gleeps!” Trixie exclaimed. “No wonder you boys wanted to stay here
tonight. If we would’ve known the
little horrorcane was going to be
home, we would’ve stayed here instead.” “Bobby’s always a perfect angel when we’re there,” Honey soothed. “I’m sure he won’t bother us.” Dan chuckled. “If
nothing else, Trixie can play the ‘Let’s tie Bobby up and see how long it
takes him to get loose’ game. He always enjoys that one.” “Yeah, I’m sure Jim would volunteer to teach her how to tie
special knots,” Di whispered to Honey.
“Love knots, that is.” Trixie jumped up. She
was quite talented at reading lips and did not want her almost-twin to hear Di’s comments and elaborate. “Well, honorable ones, we’re off to indulge
in makeup, chocolate, and Ewan McGregor.” “No, Tom Welling,” corrected Honey. “Wrong again,” Di giggled.
“Matthew McConaughey.” All of the boys, except for Dan who was enjoying his friends’
jealousy immensely, groaned and rolled their eyes. “You boys all have fun practicing your Boy Scout knots, or
studying just for the fun of it, or whatever else you responsible men do,”
Trixie teased. They said their
good-byes and the girls were off to Crabapple Farm. Jim listened for their footsteps on the stairs while the
others watched out the window. “All clear,” Brian affirmed.
They resumed their former huddle. “Okay. I think we were
on the last item of our checklist,” Jim continued. “Universal remote?” “Check.” Jim paced before them, holding a clipboard in his freckled
hand. “We have an important mission,
men. This assignment is a covert operation and absolute secrecy must be
maintained by all. “For the past couple of years, the masculine members of the
Bob-Whites of the Glen have earned quite a reputation. Responsible. Honorable.
Reliable. Unselfish. Dull.
Boring. But thanks to our
carefully planned caper, that’s about to change. “Tonight, men, we undertake a special mission. If we stick to
our schedule, we will prove, without a doubt, that we can be spontaneous
and impulsive, just as well as the girls.
Tonight, we refuse to be the responsible, honorable ones. Tonight, we will be the average teenaged
male. It’s time for Operation Couch
Potato!” Meanwhile at Crabapple
Farm…
“Reinforcements have arrived,” Peter
Belden announced as he cheerfully entered the kitchen by the back door of the
house. He set down the pizza boxes he was carrying on the counter. A moment later, he was greeted by a chaste
kiss from his lovely wife. “Hey, you can do better than that,”
he nuzzled in her ear. A cough was her
discreet reply. Peter looked up to see
his curly-headed youngest son sitting at the table, staring at them. “I thought you were spending the
night at Larry and Terry’s, son.” Bobby smiled his most angelic
smile. “Boy, Dad, that pizza sure
smells good.” Peter loosened his tie and looked at
Helen. “Do I even want to know why
Bobby is here instead of at the Lynches’?” Bobby tried to sneak off, but escape was impossible. Having three older mischievous children
before Bobby, Peter was highly trained in escape tactics. “Stop right there, mister.” He looked Bobby square in the eyes. “What did you do now?” Bobby, having three older
mischievous siblings, was highly trained in negotiation tactics. He knew it was best to simply tell the
truth and throw oneself at the mercy of the court. “Well, it’s not actually my fault. It was Larry and Terry’s idea.” At his father’s stern smirk, he blurted,
“Well, maybe it was my idea. I don’t
remember. But anyway, we was just sittin’ around and talkin’
‘bout the capsizin’ they had at the church last
Sunday.” Peter’s moustache twitched. “Do you mean the ‘baptizing’ service?” Bobby nodded, his blond curls
bobbing. “Yeah, the capsizin’. Well, we
thought it’d be a hoot to try to capsize someone. Me an’ Larry an’
Terry have already been capsized, and Peter nodded and tried his best to
keep a serious expression. “I can
understand that, son. Please
continue.” “Well, we tried to tell Mrs.
Lynch that Reddy wasn’t that dirty but she made us put him outside. She shoulda
just let us, ‘cuz after Reddy got capsized he woulda been nice an’ clean. But we did what she said.” “Somehow I don’t think the story
ends there. Go on.” “Well, we hadta
find a new candied ape…” “Candidate?” Peter suggested,
finding it impossible to keep the slight smile off his face. “Yeah, that’s it. A new can-di-date
for capsizin’. Well, Larry said that his mom might
not like dogs in the house, but that she gotted a
brand new cat.” Peter closed his eyes and wearily
rubbed his temples. “Would that be
Mrs. Lynch’s new purebred Himalayan, that was the
daughter of the Cat Fancy Magazine’s best of show champion, that Mr. Lynch
paid a fortune for?” “Well, Dad, I dunno
‘bout all that junk. All I know is
that Fluffy sure didn’t like it one bit when we putted her in Mrs. Lynch’s big garden tub.
I gotted to be the preacher an’ I stood in
there with Fluffy. She wasn’t nice at
all, an’ started clawin’ me up an’ squallin’ somethin’ terrible.” He showed Peter his arms, which were
covered with cat scratches. “I dunkded her real good, but then she took off down the
hall like a horrorcane! “Glass?” Peter raised his eyebrows. “Well, when Fluffy tookted off, she kept runnin’
into junk an’ breakin’ it. That wasn’t my fault, honest.” Bobby batted his large, china blue eyes. “The ‘junk’ Bobby is referring to is
Mrs. Lynch’s priceless Ming vase collection,” Helen
explained in a calm voice. “That’s when Mrs. Lynch threwed me outta the
house. She said I can’t come back for
a whole two weeks.” Peter somehow managed to keep a
straight face. “Well, Bobby, that’s
fair. Later we’ll discuss your
punishment. Now go put some
antibacterial cream on those scratches.
I hope you learned a valuable lesson.” Bobby sulked to the bathroom. “I sure did,” he said forlornly, leaving
the kitchen. “I learned next time to
capsize Fluffy in the pool.” After he made sure his youngest son
was out of earshot, Peter burst out laughing.
“What’ll that kid think up next?”
Suddenly the back door slammed open and Trixie, Honey, and Di bounded
in the kitchen. “Gleeps!
What’s that yummy pizza smell?” Trixie asked, sniffing the air. “That is your dinner,”
Helen explained. “Your father and I
are going out to dinner and a movie.” “Oh, woe! Does that mean I’m stuck babysitting
Bobby? This is the last slumber party
we’ll be able to have before school starts!” Helen smiled and put her arm around
her daughter’s shoulders. “I suppose,
just this once, your father and I can take him with us.” “We can?” Peter inquired a bit
hesitantly. “Oh, Moms! You’re the greatest! I promise to dust every square inch of the
entire house tomorrow.” Trixie gave her mother a huge hug. “I just don’t deserve to have a mother like
you.” She and the other girls bounded
off to her room to set down Honey’s and Di’s
overnight bags. “Gee, thanks, Helen,” Peter said in
disappointment. His wife came over to
him and wrapped her arms around her his waist. “I’ll make it up to you later, Peter
dear,” she whispered in his ear. Peter
wiggled his eyebrows at her, dipped her back, and kissed her passionately. Later on that night…
Trixie, Honey, and Di were in
Trixie’s room. Loud music vibrated the
walls; soda cans and empty pizza boxes littered the floor. Honey and Di had performed the miraculous
task of convincing Trixie to allow them to make her over. The tomboy groaned as Honey piled her sandy
curls on top of her head and Di globbed makeup onto
her face. “It’s hopeless, guys!” she
wailed. “You’ll never turn me into a
glamour girl.” Honey whacked her on the shoulder
with the hairbrush. “Trixie Belden! Stop being so hard on yourself. You’re a
very pretty girl. Why, you don’t need makeup and a fancy hairdo to be
glamorous. You’re perfectly perfect just the way you are!” Trixie snorted incredulously. “And I’ve got a bridge in Di nodded,
her silky ebony hair bobbing. “Honey’s
right. You’re just… just oozing with natural beauty!” “Yeah, I’m oozing all right…
Ouch!” Trixie quickly snatched the
brush away from Honey before she was whacked again. “I was finished with it anyway,”
Honey giggled. She handed the makeup
mirror to Trixie. “Ta da! Even Dot Murray
couldn’t hold a candle to you, Miss Belden!”
She hurriedly placed her hand over her mouth. She had forgotten what a sore spot the
beauty from Trixie sniffed indignantly. “I will thank you kindly not to mention the
blonde bimbo’s name in my presence.
Liking two kinds of girls indeed!
Why, I should have taken that bracelet and… and… Oh, I don’t know what
I’d do with it. Darn that Jim Frayne
anyway!” “Well, I think you’re beautiful,
Trixie,” Honey said honestly. “And so do I!”
Di exclaimed loyally. “And so does Jim.” Honey declared. Trixie gave her honey-haired friend
a warning look. “But you need something…” Honey
began digging into her overnight bag. “Oh! I brought just the right
thing!” Di furiously searched her bag, as well. Honey found a large, fuchsia feather
boa and draped it along Trixie’s shoulders, much to Trixie’s chagrin. Di triumphantly pulled a glittering tiara
out and dramatically placed it on top of Trixie’s sandy curls. “I pronounce you Miss Trixie gave another snort. “More like Miss Nonsense of Honey laughed. “I think we can come up with a better name
than that for our dear Beatrix. How about Princess Supple Bling Bling!” The girls dissolved to the floor in
a fit of uncontrollable giggles. When
they could finally speak, Trixie gasped, “Where in the world did you come up
with that name?” “Well, you are wearing a tiara,”
Di commented, wiping a tear from her violet eyes. “And you are the supplest of
us!” Honey added. “Plus you’re the
only one of us who’s in a D cup!”
Honey dodged the pillow that Trixie flung at her. “Trixie, have you heard the legend
of Princess Supple Bling Bling?”
Di asked as seriously as she could. Trixie sighed. “I can’t believe I’m setting myself up for
this, but no, Di, I have not heard the legend of (here she
wrinkled up her pert nose) Princess Supple Bling Bling.” Di’s eyes
twinkled as she began her story.
“Long, long ago in a far off kingdom, there was a princess named
Supple Bling Bling. An
awful spell was cast upon her by her spinster aunt. Princess Supple Bling
Bling was forced to stay in the highest tower of
the castle, busily sewing and knitting every day. Only love’s first kiss could break the
fierce spell.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Trixie
interrupted. “And she kissed a frog
and the spell was broken.” “Now, Trixie,” Honey teasingly
scolded. “It’s not nice to
interrupt. Please continue, Miss
Lynch.” “Thank you, Miss Wheeler. I was just getting to the good part. As I said, only love’s first kiss could
break the spell. One day, the dreamy
Red Woodsman was riding his noble, black steed in the forest. He heard a cry from deep in the woods and
raced upon his stallion to the tower.
He found Princess Supple Bling Bling suspended from the tower, hanging from a scarf she
had knitted. One by one, the purls
were coming undone, and the beautiful princess would fall to her doom. “Quickly, the dreamy Red Woodsman
positioned his supple form beneath the tower to catch the princess as she
fell. He easily caught the damsel and
looked at her fondly. ‘My dear,
special Princess,’ the Red…” Di was smacked by Trixie’s other pillow. “All right!” Trixie exclaimed. “Enough about (once again she wrinkled her
nose) Princess Supple Bling Bling
and Jim!” “Jim?” Di repeated innocently. “Why, I was talking about Regan. Whatever do you mean, Beatrix?” Once again, Di and Honey collapsed in
laughter. “I much prefer Ewan
McGregor,” Trixie said, her nose upturned. “Must be the red hair,” Honey stated
matter-of-factly. Trixie ignored her by grabbing a bra
off her dresser and filling it with corn chips from the bag lying on her bed.
“Eewww!”
Honey squealed. “That is so gross!” Trixie snickered and ate a chip from
her impromptu bowl. “What? It’s clean!
Better than dropping crumbs all over my bed.
Gotta use those D cups for something.” She hastily flung off her feather boa and
tiara. Di spied a postcard lying on
Trixie’s dresser and squealed. “Oh! Is
this from Hallie?” Trixie nodded, swallowing a big bite
of corn chips. “Yeah. She and her family are on vacation in “I just love dolphins!” Di cooed. “Did you know that dolphins are the
only mammals besides humans that mate for fun? All other mammals mate purely for
reproductive purposes,” Honey said in a scholarly tone. Trixie and Di looked at Honey in amazement.
“Where did you hear that,
Miss Wheeler?” Trixie inquired archly. “Brian told me. He was studying reproduction for one of his
college classes.” “Those Belden boys are such bad
influences,” Di giggled. “Exactly what else has my oldest
brother been teaching you, Honey?” Trixie asked with a straight face. “N-n-nothing!” Honey stuttered, her face tinged a becoming beet red. She flushed a deeper shade of crimson as
Trixie and Di doubled over laughing. Helen picked that precise moment to
knock on the door and enter Trixie’s bedroom.
“My goodness. It sounds like
you girls are having fun. What’re you
giggling about?” “Honey was just telling us some
interesting facts that Brian told her,” Di said, trying to bite back a
chuckle. “Yeah, that he learned in college,”
Trixie added saucily. “He’ll have to share it with the
whole family, since you girls found it so amusing,” Helen said with a
smile. “Who wants some of my homemade
fudge?” “Fudge!!!” all three girls
exclaimed, nearly knocking Helen down in their haste to retrieve the tasty
chocolate. “Thanks, Moms!” Trixie garbled, her mouth full of fudge. “Your fudge is the best!” “Did you and Mr. Belden and Bobby
have fun while you were out?” Honey asked politely, daintily eating her piece
of the delectable dessert. “Yes, we had a nice time,” Helen
affirmed. “Diana, please tell your
mother how sorry I am about what Bobby did to her cat.” Di laughed. “I’m sure she won’t be mad at Bobby for
long, Mrs. Belden. He’s just too cute for
anyone to be angry with. One flutter of his big blue eyes and he’ll be back
in Mummy’s good graces. Besides, I’m
sure Daddy wishes Bobby would’ve drowned Fluffy. He and Fluffy aren’t exactly the best of
friends.” “You girls have fun. Bobby’s already in bed, and Mr. Belden and
I are going to watch TV in our room.
You ladies can go downstairs and giggle as loudly as you want to.” “Goodnight, Mrs. Belden,” Honey and
Di chimed. “Night, Moms!” Trixie gave her
mother a kiss. “Thanks for the yummy
fudge!” “It’s perfectly perfect!” Honey
added as Helen left the room. “Gleeps!
Moms was sure in a hurry to get to her room!” Trixie
exclaimed. “Why, it’s almost mysterious!” Di and Honey giggled. “Only to you, Trix,” Di laughed. A puzzled expression crossed
Trixie’s face. “What do you mean?” Honey grinned. “I’d hurry off to
bed, too, if I had such a hottie husband waiting
for me!” Trixie’s horrified expression made
Honey and Di giggle even more.
“Yuck! Major ICK factor! My dad is not hot!” “Yes, he is,” the other two girls
chorused. “On the hotness scale of one to ten,
Mr. Belden is at least an eleven!” Honey hooted. “More like a fifteen!” Di exclaimed
with a dreamy sigh. “Yeah, those dreamy brown eyes and
that dark, wavy hair.” Honey sighed.
“Just like…” “Just like who?” Di prompted. “Just like my oldest brother,
perhaps?” Trixie laughed, poking Honey in the ribs with her elbow. “Gee, I wonder what the boys are
doing now,” Honey stated, her mind obviously straying to a certain tall,
dark, and handsome member of their club. “Mart’s probably eating,” Di
replied. Her mind was apparently on a different male BWG. Trixie chortled. “Knowing Jim, the boys are probably doing
something very honorable. I’ll bet at
this very moment, they’re sharpening their pencils in anticipation of the
beginning of the fall term next month.
Or maybe making a birdfeeder out of a pinecone and peanut butter.” “You’re probably right, Trixie,”
Honey answered. “I’m sure they’re being responsible Bob-Whites this very
moment.” Meanwhile
after dark…
“Do you have to hum the tune to
‘Mission Impossible’?” Dan whispered, poking Mart slightly in the ribs. “For your information, Mr. Mangan, this
melodious anthem is propagating the ambience essential for our ambiguous
mission,” Mart quite eloquently stated, adjusting the green ski cap over his
newly grown blond curls. He had heard
through the grapevine (actually the air duct during a slumber party) that a
certain violet-eyed brunette favored blond curls to a buzz cut. Since that night, he had forsaken his crew
cut and let his hair grow. “Did I get enough of this paint on?”
Brian asked, shining a light on his green and black covered face. Jim curtly nodded. “I think everyone is well-camouflaged. Let’s hurry down to Brian’s jalopy.” Brian still had the old car he had
purchased from Mr. Lytell. It was becoming quite an
eyesore, much to the chagrin of his family. Tom Delanoy had offered to teach
Brian the basics of automotive refinishing in a blatant attempt to get the
rusting old heap sanded and repainted, but lately Brian had been too busy.
The paint scheme currently consisted of more primer and Bondo
than paint and metal. The original color was indeterminable, since the paint
it did have was coated with rust. Peter had been “encouraging” Brian to
plunge in and refinish it, since the jalopy was the first thing one saw when
they pulled into Crabapple Farm. Nonetheless, Brian loved his car, rust,
primer, and all. The four males were clothed head to
foot in camouflaged gear. Military
face paint covered their handsome faces.
They stealthily moved in the darkness to Brian’s old car, totally
undetected by the Manor House residents.
As quietly as possible, Brian hopped into the driver’s seat and the
rest of the boys pushed the jalopy to the edge of the driveway. They jumped inside and shut the doors,
while the car coasted silently down the hill.
At the bottom of the hill, Brian started it up, and they drove past
the driveway to Crabapple Farm. “Hope the girls didn’t hear us start
her up,” Dan commented. “You know how
Trixie is. If she thinks anything
mysterious is going on, we’ll have Schoolgirl Shamuses on our tails.” “They’ll be too busy giggling to
notice us,” Jim assured. “Yeah,” Brian agreed. “When those
girls get together, they make so much noise that you can’t hear yourself
think.” “I worry more about our maternal and
paternal caregivers,” Mart said. “We’re covered there,” Brian replied.
“It’s Friday night.” A quizzical look passed Dan’s
face. “What’s that got to do with it?” “Coincidentally, Mart, Trixie,
Bobby, and I were all conceived on a Friday night,” Brian explained. “Ah, yes. I forgot that our overly-amorous forebears regularly
partake of nocturnal pleasures on the sixth day of the week,” Mart
elaborated. Still seeing the puzzled looks on
Jim and Dan’s faces, Brian said bluntly, “That’s the night they scrog.” Jim covered his ears. “Too much information, Brian! That’s a little more than I wanted to know
about the Belden family!” Meanwhile, Dan hooted with
laughter. “Scrog?! I’ve never heard it called that
before!” He continued to chuckle as Brian’s jalopy made its way down Brian pulled over to a wide spot on
the road hidden by trees. He parked
the car and they ran down the road on foot.
Soon they came upon Mr. Lytell’s store and
adjacent house. They silently crept up
to the house and peered in the living room window. The grumpy old storekeeper
was sitting on the couch, still dressed primly in his trousers and button
down shirt that he wore in the store.
He was reading the evening paper and watching “Wheel of Fortune”. The male BWGs
looked at each other and nodded. “Let
Operation Couch Potato begin,” Jim murmured quietly. He motioned to Dan who was carrying the
equipment bag. “Are you guys sure about this?” Dan
asked softly. “If my probation officer
finds out, I could get into a lot of trouble.” “Nobody will ever know it’s us,”
Mart assured. “Come on, Dan,” Jim prodded. “This is our only chance to be wild and
crazy. Aren’t you sick of being called
honorable and responsible?” Dan thought for a moment, carefully
weighing his options. “All right. Let’s do it!” He dug inside the bag and
found the item for which he searched.
Finding it, he handed it to Brian.
“Here, Mr. Responsible. You
first.” Brian hesitated momentarily, and
then grabbed the object from Dan’s hand.
“If we get thrown in jail for this, Jim…” Mart silently chuckled. “Mr. Responsible is going to chicken out!” Brian glared at his younger brother,
and pointed the item in Mr. Lytell’s window. “Here goes nothing…” The boys watched as Mr. Lytell jumped in surprise. The old man squinted
his eyes and then rubbed them. He
curiously peered at the television set before him. One moment, he had been staring at Vanna White turning over lit-up tiles. The next, he was watching some bunch of
hoodlums sing and dance in their underwear on a stage. Brian laughed so hard that he nearly
dropped the universal remote in his hand.
“I didn’t think it would work!” “I told you it would!” Jim
chuckled. “Now change it back!” Quickly, Brian pushed a button, and Vanna returned, flipping over all the D’s. Mr. Lytell shook
his head in disbelief. A minute later,
Brian changed the channel back to the head bangers on MTV. For good measure, he turned up the volume
so that the windows of the house were vibrating from the noise. The boys doubled over in laughter as the
old man took off his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, then
adjusted them on his face. “Look what he’s doing now!” Mart
gasped. Mr. Lytell
stood and walked over to the television set, where he picked up the remote
control from the top of the TV. He
then turned down the volume, changed the channel back to Wheel of Fortune,
put the remote back on the television set, and then walked to the couch and
sat down. The boys rolled on the
ground. “Do it again!” Mart urged when he
could breathe. “I don’t know…” Brian hesitated. Mart grabbed the universal remote
out of his hands. “If he’s gonna keep his remote on top of the TV, he deserves to
get up again.” He quickly changed the
channel back to the heavy metal playing, tattoo-covered band. Mr. Lytell began
saying something that the boys couldn’t hear.
However, they were as good as Trixie at reading lips. “I didn’t know Mr. Lytell knew that many four letter words!” Jim
chuckled. They watched the old man
once again trek to the television, get his remote, bang it against his leg,
change the channel back, place it back on the TV, and walk back to
his seat. All the while he muttered
intelligible profanities. “We’d better go,” Brian
whispered. “He’ll get suspicious
soon.” “He’d just blame that harum-scarum
Belden girl!” laughed Dan. The boys
sneaked back to a path along the main road.
They ran until they came to a red brick house. “Who lives here?” Dan asked, after
he had caught his breath. “It’s a new family that moved to
town recently,” Jim explained. “Do we want to play a trick on
them?” Brian questioned. “Mr. Lytell has been mean to Trix all these years, so he kind
of had it coming. But we don’t even
know these people.” “How very honorable of you, my
introspective sibling,” Mart teased. Dan, however, agreed with
Brian. “I didn’t mind pulling Mr. Lytell’s leg, but I’m not sure I want to harass a total
stranger.” “I see what you mean, guys. But I saw this family at Wimpy’s,” Jim told
them. “The husband was rude to Mike
and said the food was disgusting. He
made an awful mess, and then he refused to pay for his meal. The whole time he was real nasty to his
wife and kids. He’s already gotten a
bad reputation around town. I heard he
hangs out with Olyphant and his gang.” The BWG males decided to go ahead
and continue with their prank. They
saw a large man sitting on the sofa in his boxer shorts and an old, ratty
t-shirt. They sneaked over to the big
picture window behind the couch where the man could not see them. Not only did they have a good hiding spot,
they had perfect access to the television. The man was slumped on the couch,
surrounded by beer bottles and junk food wrappers. Occasionally, the boys heard him bark out
an order to his wife, who would scurry about following his orders. They watched a small girl go over to the
man and show him her skinned knee. The
man yelled and waved his hand in an “I don’t care” manner. The little girl began to cry and ran away
to find her mother. Jim glared at the man and grabbed
the universal remote. “This guy deserves
all he gets,” he whispered in an angry voice. Inside the house, the man was
watching “Beach Bunny Bombshells Fighting Bad Guys”. He was glued to the set, totally enthralled
as a scantily clad buxom woman chased a drug dealer down a sandy beach. He cheered Bambi on as she chased the
hardened criminal. She caught up to
him and wrestled him to the ground.
The man was on the edge of his seat as the druggie grabbed the string
of Bambi’s bikini top and… An all male Russian dance troupe performing
live at the Kremlin? The man started yelling at the
TV. As if the four letter words did
not adequately express his anger enough, he threw in a few obscene gestures,
as well. He grabbed the remote from
off his beer gut and smacked it good.
He changed the channel back to the Beach Bunnies. Relieved that Bambi and the drug lord were
still wrestling, he quieted down and was glued to the program. He leaned up closer as the crook ripped
Bambi’s top and her… “I love you, you love me,” an annoying
purple dinosaur sang. By this time, the boys were rolling
on the ground, clutching their stomachs.
From outside, they heard the man yell for his wife. She came in the living room just as Jim
clicked the channel to the end credits of “Beach Bunny Bombshells Fighting
Bad Guys”. The boys watched as the man
shook his head and tried to explain what had happened. His wife just shrugged her shoulders and
left the room. The man took another swig of beer,
burped loudly and settled in to watch the next program, “Hot Ninja
Chicks”. Candy, the stripper
moonlighting as a secret-agent-ninja-warrior-princess was turning on the
shower. She tugged on her robe and… “Call now for your very own Best of
Barry Manilow CD or cassette, yours for only $19.95
plus shipping and handling. When you
purchase this album, you’ll get such hits as ‘At the Copa…
Copacabana… The hottest spot north of The man threw down his beer bottle
and yelled for his wife again. She
hurried in the room, just as Candy was fully-dressed and applying too much
makeup. His wife put her hands on her
hips and listened as the man frantically gestured to the television. She shook her head in exasperation and left
again. The man picked up his remote and
rattled it. He took the batteries out
and shuffled them around. Then he
whacked it on the floor for good measure.
It seemed to be working. He
opened a bag of pork rinds and watched Candy miraculously fight three hot bad
babes at once. One of the women pushed
her in a tub of Jell-O, which was positioned conveniently nearby, and Candy
pulled the villainess into the tub with her.
They were clawing at each other and tearing off their clothes when… “Do you suffer from impotence? Maybe you are one of the many men who need
Viagra. Studies have shown…” This time the man was so flustered that he
left and dragged his wife into the room.
He sat her down on the couch where he had been, just in time to see
Candy get out of the tub of Jell-O.
The three naughty vixens were tied up with some rope that Candy
conveniently had stuffed in her bra.
The man began banging his head on the wall. His wife patted him on the shoulder and
handed him an icepack. He plunked down
in front of the TV once more, although this time a little fearfully. For several minutes, everything was
fine. Candy tied up her loose ends and
was heading to her day job. Just as
she was getting ready to perform her pole dance, the TV suddenly snapped
off. The man finally lost it and began
throwing his empty beer bottles at the television. At the sound of breaking glass, the boys
decided it was time to leave. “I think we’ve done enough damage
here,” Jim said, as soon as he could talk.
“This guy is gonna need serious therapy.” “We’d better head back,” Dan
whispered. The boys began the long
walk back to the jalopy. “I wonder what the girls are doing,”
Brian wondered out loud, his mind straying to a certain honey-haired
neighbor. Mart snorted, eerily like
Trixie. “They’re probably gorging on chocolate
and watching their chick flicks.” “Yeah, starring Ewan
McGregor,” Jim muttered. “And Tom Welling,” Brian added,
unhappily. “Don’t forget Matthew McConaughey,” Mart mumbled. Dan burst out laughing. “Geez, why don’t
you guys wake up and smell the coffee!
Trixie likes some redheaded actor.
Hmm… I wonder why? And Honey likes the tall, dark, and
handsome serious guy? What a
coincidence! And Di goes for the
blond, blue-eyed guy. Whoda thunk it?” Jim, Brian, and Mart merely looked at him
like he had grown a third eye, obviously not making the connection. “Boy, you guys are dense. I’m glad I get to be the dark, mysterious
one who makes the rounds with all the Sleepyside honeys. I’m glad I’m not jealous over
some Jim curiously peered at Dan. “What do you mean? I’m not jealous.” “Me either,” Brian added, unhappily. “Nor I,” Mart mumbled. “So, how about we sneak to Crabapple
Farm and see what they’re doing?” Jim casually suggested. “Sounds good to me,” Brian agreed. “Methinks it would be sagacious to
verify that our feminine club members have not gotten into rascality while we
masculine ones have been indisposed,” Mart announced. Dan shrugged his shoulders, broad
from all his wood-chopping. “Whatever. I just have one question.” They stopped their movement and everyone
looked at Dan. “Jim, what’s up with
Trixie’s yen for Ben?” “Shut up, Mangan.” Much later, outside of
Crabapple Farm…
One by one, heads popped up to peek
in the living room window at Crabapple Farm.
Brian had parked the jalopy far enough away that Trixie would not hear
its approach. They silently peered
through the window and saw the three girls huddled together on the sofa. Their eyes were swollen and they clutched
several tissues in their hands. A box
of Kleenex was nearby and several wadded up tissues were in the floor. “What are they watching?” Brian
asked. “I don’t recognize it.” “It’s ‘A Perplexing Existence’. I heard Uncle Bill’s girlfriend talking
about wanting to watch it on pay-per-view the other night. Uncle Bill apparently wasn’t up for it,
though,” Dan explained. “No wonder,” Jim muttered
distastefully. “It looks depressing!” Mart
exclaimed. “It’s your typical gut-wrenching
tearjerker. Four friends overcome all
their obstacles to achieve their dreams.
No hot babes, violence, or car chases.” “Boring!” chimed Jim, Brian, and
Mart. Dan grinned. “It does star your favorite actors…” “Ewan
McGregor,” Jim muttered. “Tom Welling,” Brian added,
unhappily. “And Matthew McConaughey,”
Mart mumbled. “Yeah, some other guy is in it,
too. Some guy with really dark hair
and eyes…” Inside…
“This is such a wonderful movie!” Di
exclaimed, wiping a tear from her eyes.
“I just don’t understand why it didn’t win an Oscar.” Honey blew her nose in an extremely
ladylike manner. “Their loyalty to one
another is so touching! How they
helped their new friend mend his bad ways… I just love this movie.” “I can’t see why the guys wouldn’t
want to see this!” Trixie gushed, grabbing another Kleenex. “Ewan McGregor is
so handsome as the abused hero! His dream of helping orphans was so
noble. His character is so…supple and sooo honorable!” “Ooh, Tom Welling is perfectly
perfect as the responsible friend dreaming of going to medical school!” Honey
dramatically sighed. “His character
has such a sensitive bed-side manner!” Di sniffed and wiped another
tear. “My favorite is Matthew McConaughey’s character!
He was just sooo smart and used all those
big words.” She began fanning
herself. “And those blond curls and
blue eyes! He could tease me any
day. I’m glad Hallie
recommended it.” Trixie nodded. “She said it was really good. Of course, she liked Orlando Bloom’s
character the best. She liked his dark,
sullen good looks, and thought he was an expert at chopping firewood.” Honey giggled. “You know, there is something awfully
appealing about a bad boy gone good!” Back outside…
Mart snatched the remote of the
bag. “There has to be something on better
than this! Maybe Playboy is showing
another episode of ‘Hot Ninja Chicks’!” Jim grabbed Mart’s arm. “This isn’t Mr. Lytell
or some drunk guy we’re talking about. The girls are sure to catch us!” “Yeah, Mart,” Dan agreed. “I know we tease them a lot, but they’re
really pretty smart. They’ll figure
out that it’s us playing a prank on them.” Mart wiggled out of Jim’s grasp. “You guys give them too much credit! This is one mystery that Schoolgirl Shamuses, Inc. won’t be able to solve.” He pointed the universal remote at the TV and |
