“Oh and, to answer your question about what a fleshbag is,” Mr. Obvious Orange Hitting Bathtub Swimmer’s ugly cousin, replied “A fleshbag is a receptacle of flesh that can speak, and move around. You, in essence, Mr.?” Mr. Obvious Orange Hitting Bathtub Swimmer’s Ugly Cousin, paused, awaiting Neil’s response, and when he did not receive it, gave his own.
“Can we have your name please,” Ugly Cousin asked.
“You don’t deserve to know my name but it’s Neil Patchwork! For you have hit me, in the face,” Neil pointed to his face, his body moving as if on strings, like a puppet. “With an orange for fangirls sake, and I have no clue why I told you my name because I am very angry. What were you doing!”
“Trying to find a girl” Mr. Obvious Orange Hitting Bathtub Swimmer said, in a matter of fact voice. “You ought to too Mr. Patchwork. You still appear to have the leftovers of the orange on your face.”
Neil had an awful habit of creating a massively elaborate speech for amazingly simple concepts. This was no different
“Yes I appear to still have a orange on my face! Yo-“
“Technically, it’s an orange, because the O is a vowel!” Mr. Obvious Orange Hitting Bathtub Swimmer smiled, as if doing so would soften the blow.
“I know it’s ‘an orange’! You know why! I am an English teacher! May I continue?”
“Oh wow, you got it wrong again! It’s A! A! I don’t even know English and I know that much from your silly little culture!” Of course, Igor and Nighterin knew full well he was correct the second time. The little fleshbag was fun to confuse and screw up though.
Neil blushed, embarrassed. “Anyways! You and your friend Igor over there are assuming that oranges are strange looking GPS devices that hone in on important people! The world has evolved gentlemen to something more substantial then fruit tracking systems! There are things called cars gentlemen. It is spelled C,”
Neil was lost in the argument he was making, and was doing a cheerleading routine he had seen at a pep rally he, as faculty, was forced to witness.
“A!” Neil shook his arms ecstatically, as if he was cheering for a team composed of monster trucks “R, S! Cars! Cars! Cars!” Neil unknowingly did a split on the sidewalk, arms outstretched and staring at the sky.
“He knew your name Igor!” The orange hitter ran towards Neil and hugged him tightly knocking him into the pavement.
“Loki be pleasured! I loved your speech by the way, very inspiring stuff Mr. Patchwork.” Neil screamed, the face of Nighterin, with his giant nose poking at him and creepy eyes glaring down at him was terrifying him. A car passed them by, and the driver yelled out something Neil didn’t catch, but it might have been a dreaded swear word.
“Come Nighterin, this fleshbag is a little too strange even for us. We shall go find Raven ourselves!”
Nighterin stood up, and stared at his companion. “But Igor,” he said, whining, “the orange,”
“Lemon!” Igor snapped back
“The orange splatters have chosen him!”
Igor sighed, like a father looking after his brat of a child and replied “Come on, and, as Neil expertly put it, fangirl the bloody lemon splatters!” Igor and Nighterin began to leave, walking side by side..
Neil stood up. “Did you say Raven!” They were trying to find Autumn “Raven” Layne, he bet.
Igor turned back to Neil. “Yes nonexistent ocular illusion, I did.”
Neil ran to meet them. “I know Raven! I can get you to her, and, have a milk date with her, or something when both of you have um, done what you need to do.” An unpleasant thought crossed his mind, at the idea of these two meeting his forbidden love. “You aren’t going to kill her, are you.”
Nighterin grinned and walked with Neil. Neil thought that Nighterin in another life, or dimension, would make a wonderful puppy dog. “We have a message to deliver to her!”
“I can lead you right to her! Follow me!”
For the first time, Neil Patchwork felt needed. He didn’t like Igor and Nighterin, but the idea of seeing Raven brightened up his day. He walked with them to the dormitories of St. Angelus, and actually smiled.
“Nighterin, I still believe what you hit is called a lemon!”
Leading Igor and Nighterin to the dorms would be the first of many horrible decisions Neil Patchwork would make.