This one is from the writing prompt: The room filled with blue smoke as George__________.
Dove September 20, 2011
The room filled with blue smoke as George poured the bubbling yellow liquid into the green. He made sure that he didn’t know what he was doing, before he started, It was much funner that way. His ears rang with the numerous bangs and explosions he had created. The voice said “Gregory, not that one, the purple one!” George laughed shrilly and said “How many times should I tell you Percy, call me George!” The voice had showed up some weeks ago, and had not gone away so he had named it Percy. Now it said exasperatedly “And how many times must I tell you, call me Percival.” George gave another shill laugh and poured the purple into the now bright pink liquid It bubbled up, out of the vial and onto the table, then after burning through the table, through the floor and out of sight. George looked disappointedly through rapidly growing hole in the floor. “Now I have to start all over again to make more of that stuff.” He Whined. “Lets get started!” Said Percival. George regained his spirits and laughed again, loud guffaws, high and almost as earsplitting as his beloved explosions. He steeped carefully around the large hole in the floor, now almost the size of a piano. He was wondering if an actual piano would fit through it, and if he loved the old, broken down piano in the drawing room downstairs enough to drop it through the hole, and whether he could lug the thing up all three stories of the house with no help except for Percival, when the doorbell rang.
Sarah stood on the step of the tottering building, trying to decide whether she should ring the bell or not. She looked up at the tall top of the tower where she thought she had heard and bang from. It was probably nothing she said and dismissed it to be somebody dropping something or street work on another street. The house was set apart from the other houses. Or it was now. There was pieces of wood, and bricks scattered here and there, The showed that maybe once their had been houses there. Sarah made up her mind, and before she could change it leaned forward and pushed the button on the side of the door frame. She stood back and adjusted her brownies uniform, making sure all her pins where in place and straightening her blouse. The door flew open and Sarah stepped back in shock. In front of her stood and tall man with dark wavy hair that stood straight up with white at the ends. He had large glasses that looked as though he had kicked them around in the fire place a lot, with black smears and crooked hinges. Behind them was large eyes, wide with excitement. He had black smudges on his face and an expectant and maniacal grin. He stuck out his hand at her and said in a crackly voice “Gregory Wattermeere at your service. Of what do need assistance?” Sarah held out the box bravely and said would you like some cookies Mr…” “Oh, call me George please, everyone does!” He gave her an expectant look. “Um… You can call me Sarah.” she said. And looked down at the box in her hands. He followed her gaze said so loudly and suddenly that Sarah almost fell of the top step “COOKIES! Why didn’t you say so? Come in, Come in!” Sarah cautiously followed George through the doorway and through the house. It was a large very old looking house with paisley carpet covering the whole floor and dust and ash everywhere. She stepped carefully around an enormous hole in the drawing room floor, squeezed between and old piano with strings poking out every which way, and a bird cage with fish in it, and into what she supposed was the kitchen. “Welcome to the kitchen.” Said George and then paused for a moment as if listening to something. Then he chuckled. Yes, yes I do suppose it could use a little tidying. She looked around, their were glass vials everywhere, of every different shape, each one with a colour in it, The bottom of a pink one looked like it had been melted off, and most of them had black smears all over them, inside and out. “Oh, of course” He said “I totally forgot” He laughed high and loud, throwing his head back and shrieking with mirth. He stopped very suddenly and looked at Sarah “Meet Percival.” He said sharply. “Where is he?” She said suspiciously “How am I supposed to know!” He asked her titling his head. She realized that he was actually asking her the question. “I don”t know.” She said. George sank his head in disappointment “I cant find anybody that can.” He said. His head shot up again and it had a smile, larger than before. “Well say hello, so as not to be rude to him, (He wouldn’t like that, and then he might throw a tantrum, And I hate when he throws tantrums.) Yes, Yes of course you wouldn’t throw tantrum Perc. SORRY, PERCIVAL, Happy?” “Um… Hi?” Sarah said. “Now,” Said George “About those cookie Cookies.”