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enjoy...

V.", "writing": "Don’t Step On Me\n\nby\n\nVixyy Fox\n\n“Pink Squirrel, purple Kitty, and a red Dog,” Merle whispered as he squeezed the little play dough caricatures together in his hands. His sister had made them soon after they had arrived at their new house… which really wasn’t new at all.\n\n“Merleeeee,” his mother called from the kitchen, “What are you doingggg?”\n\nThey had moved in the week before, and he hated it in the same way his little sister loved it. She was bubbling with happiness since arriving; always playing in her room which unlike his, was as neat as a pin. His mother was quick to point this out, over and over and over.\n\n“Nothinggggg,” he called back. \n\nHe knew she would eventually be up to check on him, but figured he still had at least ten minutes or so. Placing the little figures on the floor, he deliberately stepped on them, smushing them flat. He giggled as he stood looking down at them. His little sister would be so devastated; so much for her crappy bubbling happiness.\n\n“That wasn’t nice,” said a voice in his ear and he felt his arm grabbed.\n\n“I didn’t do it!” he yelled, thinking he’d been caught by his mother. That notion lasted until he was spun about and he came face to face with a huge pink Squirrel. His mouth opened to scream and it stuffed a play dough paw in far enough that he gagged. \n\nJust as he thought he would throw up, the paw was pulled out and he was grabbed in a head lock by a pair of large red play dough arms. A different voice growled in his ear, “I been done wrong by some little creep brother who thinks he’s a big shot. Well, creep… how would you feel if’n I twisted your head off? I don’t like being stomped to mush. Why’d ya do it? Your sister hasn’t done anything to you, Mr. Monkey Brains.”\n\n“I don’t know!” he wailed. \n\nThis particular answer usually worked on his mother, but it apparently wasn’t worth all that much to his play dough assailants. His pants were jerked to his knees and a purple arm shot out from between his legs. Its fingers wiggled around in front of his face and then a distinctly feminine voice meowed from somewhere above his head. “What should we do to this errant little brat, my friends?” The purple arm reached up and momentarily massaged his stomach. Claws flashed out and it then trailed all the way down to the place between his legs, leaving a distinct row of red marks. “Purrhaps he should become a little girl like his seester, eh? Maybe then he would keep his room clean.”\n\n“Nooooo…” he began, but the squirrels paw was in his mouth again and he found himself drowning in the yucky taste. When it was pulled out again he was spitting out bits of play dough. The head lock released and there was a tremendous tug on his young manhood, completely flipping him over. Suddenly he was lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling.\n\nPink, purple, and red feet began stepping on him, their play dough texture making plapping noises as they stepped and stepped and stepped all over him. When he could finally roll away, he stood facing them. \n\n“STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!” he yelled out of desperation.\n\n“Why should we?” the Squirrel demanded. “It’s nothing less than you did to us.”\n\nThe Dog pointed at him, barking and growling; flecks of multicolored play dough spraying from its mouth.\n\n“He is quite mad,” the Cat explained, flexing her right paw and making her claws go in and out, “As are both Squirrel and myself… but we give you a chance.”\n\n“Pull your pants up and go clean your room,” the Squirrel told him, “And then come back here and have a tea party with your sister.”\n\n“And know we’ll be watching!” the Dog managed, slimy looking play dough drool dripping from the corners of its mouth.\n\nMerle hated tea parties… hated this house… hated cleaning his room… but he was also now scared to death. “All right,” he managed, as he pulled his pants back up. Carefully inching around them, he made his way to the door. “I will… I promise,” he shouted as he ran out.\n\n“And you’ll forever be nice to your sister,” the Cat hissed as he ran, “Or you will have more in common with her than just living in the same house.”\n\n--------------------------------\n\nMerle’s mother stopped at her daughter’s door to listen before entering. She’d been just a bit concerned that Rebecca stayed in her room so much and that Merle had been acting out the way he had been. Well… the house was almost unpacked now and she could pay more attention now. \n\n“Would you like some more tea?” she heard her daughter ask. This made her smile, as she remembered the tea parties she’d had all by herself at the same age, and in this same house… and then she heard her son say, “Yes please.”\n\nSneaking a peak through the partially open door she saw her son, dressed in his Sunday best and acting quite the gentleman to her daughter, who wore an old ladies hat and had a very old stole wrapped around her shoulders. \n\n“You make delightful tea, my dear,” he told her as he sipped the pretend tea.\n\nPlacing a hand over her mouth to keep from speaking, she took a step backwards, but stopped when a tiny voice said, ‘Don’t step on me!’\n\nLooking down, she found a small play dough Squirrel (at least she thought it was a Squirrel) on the floor. Picking it up, she placed it on the steps leading to the attic, saying, “Well stay out of the way silly.”\n\nStanding, she was about to go back downstairs when a thought occurred to her and she turned back to look again at the Squirrel. Its right paw was now held out in a position that distinctly looked like a ‘thumbs up’.\n\nShaking her head, and muttering something about old houses and an over active imagination, she headed back down to put dinner on. At least her children were adjusting, and for that she was happy.\n\nend\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Don’t Step On Me

by

Vixyy Fox

“Pink Squirrel, purple Kitty, and a red Dog,” Merle whispered as he squeezed the little play dough caricatures together in his hands. His sister had made them soon after they had arrived at their new house… which really wasn’t new at all.

“Merleeeee,” his mother called from the kitchen, “What are you doingggg?”

They had moved in the week before, and he hated it in the same way his little sister loved it. She was bubbling with happiness since arriving; always playing in her room which unlike his, was as neat as a pin. His mother was quick to point this out, over and over and over.

“Nothinggggg,” he called back.

He knew she would eventually be up to check on him, but figured he still had at least ten minutes or so. Placing the little figures on the floor, he deliberately stepped on them, smushing them flat. He giggled as he stood looking down at them. His little sister would be so devastated; so much for her crappy bubbling happiness.

“That wasn’t nice,” said a voice in his ear and he felt his arm grabbed.

“I didn’t do it!” he yelled, thinking he’d been caught by his mother. That notion lasted until he was spun about and he came face to face with a huge pink Squirrel. His mouth opened to scream and it stuffed a play dough paw in far enough that he gagged.

Just as he thought he would throw up, the paw was pulled out and he was grabbed in a head lock by a pair of large red play dough arms. A different voice growled in his ear, “I been done wrong by some little creep brother who thinks he’s a big shot. Well, creep… how would you feel if’n I twisted your head off? I don’t like being stomped to mush. Why’d ya do it? Your sister hasn’t done anything to you, Mr. Monkey Brains.”

“I don’t know!” he wailed.

This particular answer usually worked on his mother, but it apparently wasn’t worth all that much to his play dough assailants. His pants were jerked to his knees and a purple arm shot out from between his legs. Its fingers wiggled around in front of his face and then a distinctly feminine voice meowed from somewhere above his head. “What should we do to this errant little brat, my friends?” The purple arm reached up and momentarily massaged his stomach. Claws flashed out and it then trailed all the way down to the place between his legs, leaving a distinct row of red marks. “Purrhaps he should become a little girl like his seester, eh? Maybe then he would keep his room clean.”

“Nooooo…” he began, but the squirrels paw was in his mouth again and he found himself drowning in the yucky taste. When it was pulled out again he was spitting out bits of play dough. The head lock released and there was a tremendous tug on his young manhood, completely flipping him over. Suddenly he was lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling.

Pink, purple, and red feet began stepping on him, their play dough texture making plapping noises as they stepped and stepped and stepped all over him. When he could finally roll away, he stood facing them.

“STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!” he yelled out of desperation.

“Why should we?” the Squirrel demanded. “It’s nothing less than you did to us.”

The Dog pointed at him, barking and growling; flecks of multicolored play dough spraying from its mouth.

“He is quite mad,” the Cat explained, flexing her right paw and making her claws go in and out, “As are both Squirrel and myself… but we give you a chance.”

“Pull your pants up and go clean your room,” the Squirrel told him, “And then come back here and have a tea party with your sister.”

“And know we’ll be watching!” the Dog managed, slimy looking play dough drool dripping from the corners of its mouth.

Merle hated tea parties… hated this house… hated cleaning his room… but he was also now scared to death. “All right,” he managed, as he pulled his pants back up. Carefully inching around them, he made his way to the door. “I will… I promise,” he shouted as he ran out.

“And you’ll forever be nice to your sister,” the Cat hissed as he ran, “Or you will have more in common with her than just living in the same house.”

--------------------------------

Merle’s mother stopped at her daughter’s door to listen before entering. She’d been just a bit concerned that Rebecca stayed in her room so much and that Merle had been acting out the way he had been. Well… the house was almost unpacked now and she could pay more attention now.

“Would you like some more tea?” she heard her daughter ask. This made her smile, as she remembered the tea parties she’d had all by herself at the same age, and in this same house… and then she heard her son say, “Yes please.”

Sneaking a peak through the partially open door she saw her son, dressed in his Sunday best and acting quite the gentleman to her daughter, who wore an old ladies hat and had a very old stole wrapped around her shoulders.

“You make delightful tea, my dear,” he told her as he sipped the pretend tea.

Placing a hand over her mouth to keep from speaking, she took a step backwards, but stopped when a tiny voice said, ‘Don’t step on me!’

Looking down, she found a small play dough Squirrel (at least she thought it was a Squirrel) on the floor. Picking it up, she placed it on the steps leading to the attic, saying, “Well stay out of the way silly.”

Standing, she was about to go back downstairs when a thought occurred to her and she turned back to look again at the Squirrel. Its right paw was now held out in a position that distinctly looked like a ‘thumbs up’.

Shaking her head, and muttering something about old houses and an over active imagination, she headed back down to put dinner on. At least her children were adjusting, and for that she was happy.

end

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