Not very much happens at all

Meeting up with Veruca the Vivacious was certainly a thrill.  I think it was Veruca.  She said she may have been Veronica, but they're impossible to tell apart.  I've never actually seen them in the same room together.

After an awkwardly long hug, I finally pushed her off of me and demanded that we get on to business.  

All I knew besides what I knew of marcwojo was that we had to find the mysterious Island of the Gifted, and knowing that only the government knew of it, I was at a loss as to how even I knew about it.  I had never in my 1000+ years been able  to hold down a government job.  

Veruca, as always had little to say on the subject.  Pulling my mother and her  toilet over to the left to ease some of the weight off of my right foot, I snorted, and hung my head in silent contemplation.

The phone book.

The thought came creeping into my head like an ancient guardian whispering secrets.  The phone book.  It was as good a place to start as any.

There it was, "Emily Richard's School for the Gifted".  There had to be a connection.

"Veronica!", Veronica  who was applying eye shadow,  looked up at me with some irritation, and I mustered together an apology upon noting the big blue streak that my startling her had caused to appear down the side of her ninja mask.

"I'll make the call", she sighed, "You know", she continued, "this will never come out.  And ninjas, by code, never carry spare masks."

I waited as she dialed, and it must have rang 5 or 6 times before someone picked up on the other end.  Of course, I could only hear her side of the conversation.

"Yes, are you Emily?"

 "Well, where's Emily then?"

"Then, why wouldn'y you change the name to the late Emily Richard's School for the Gifted?  This whole thing sounds a little suspicious if you ask me.  Listen, I'm going to ask you a few questions and I don't want to hear any dancing around on the other end."

I could feel Mother shifting on her toilet and, although I admired Veruca's assertive nature, I made a gesture pointing to my back with one hand, a zipping gesture with my left hand and "eeek" expression with my mouth, all to indicate that this was not a good time to awaken Mother.

"Let me ask you again, madam," (she said madam with a tough tone)"What exactly does 'gifted' mean, is it gifted, or you know, gifted?"

Mother grumbled something in her sleep about Ricardo Montalban, and shifted her weight unexpectedly, causing me to  sidestep ,urgently for fear of falling over.

"I think we all know what gifted means...there are two kinds of school for gifted children.  There's the gifted 'beautiful 18 year old ninja who can form doppelgangers' that everyone wants, and then there's the gifted that nobody wants, that we call gifted, because saying 'retarded' hurts everyone's feelings.  So, is this a school for 'good at math' gifted or 'likes to drool' gifted?"

"Hello?  Hello?", a long pause and Veruca's irritated look told me that the other end had disconnected, "Damn it!"

"Shhhhh", I cautioned, but it was too late.

The End

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