Author: Azamiko PM
Short, humor fic...did you ever wonder where the creator got her name?Rated: Fiction K - English - Humor - Words: 1,063 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 2 - Published: 07-31-05 - id: 2512445
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: Much as I love 'em, they're not mine…except for the caller, and she's not really important or anything. I imagine her with a sort of Jamaican accent…like Miss Clio on those old tv commercials
Dedicated to my friend Tom, cuz I forced him to give me a challenge…and I sort of did it; Sorry that it's not funnier!
It was just a normal day in a normal town, and Cleo, as she had yowled, was bored. She, Orphan, and Majik had arrived in this town only days before, the older boy had said something about 'searching for yadayadayada' and 'practicing his blahblahblah' before shutting himself and their younger companion in a unused workroom off of their hotel's kitchen. If she were being honest, Cleo would admit that she hadn't actually been listening to what Orphan had said. However, she would definitely refuse to explain what she had been doing while the explanations had taken place.
So, with her companions shut away in a tiny room, practicing magic--and probably happy to be away from me, she thought--the girl was left with nothing to do except wander around the small town. There was really nothing there, though; the town was a lot like her home, with nothing but common goods for sale. The only interesting thing was a supposed fortune teller, for whom Cleo had been on the look-out since she had left her room that morning.
"Ah-ha! I've found it!" Finally, after hours of casual searching--it's not like she was really interested, she wasn't going to ask anything about Orp-one of her companions, nope--the blonde girl found the little shop belonging to the village 'witch.'
"Uh, hello? Ma'am?" Even though it was only early afternoon, and the door was wide-open, there didn't seem to be anyone in the cluttered-but-neat store. Perhaps she just stepped out for a moment?
Still willing to do almost anything to relieve her boredom, Cleo started poking around the knick-knacks and bric-a-brac which lined the many tables and shelves. The light from the large picture-window was the only illumination, but it was just enough to lend the room a cheerful, yet mysterious air.
Suddenly, a ringing noise burst out from an object on one of the shelves. Cleo jumped, looking around guiltily and putting down the necklace she had been handling. Going over to the ringing object, she saw that it was a strange, banana-shaped object. The little sign underneath it proclaimed it to be an 'one-dimensional communication device.' And it was ringing.
Briefly, Cleo wondered what on earth one would talk to people from other dimensions about, before quickly deciding that it didn't matter, that she was curious, and that, since there was no one else here, she would answer the device.
Gingerly, she took it off of its cradle before placing it next to her face.
"H-Hello? Cleo speaking…" For a moment, all she heard was a faint hissing sound, rather like a cat that was about to throw up. But then, a squawky, tinny voice boomed out of the bottom end.
"Clio? Miz Clio, izzat you?" The girl's eyes and mouth became perfect O's as she dumbly turned the device right-side-up.
"Uh…um…do you know me?"
"Hey now, if you a' Miz Clio, then what 'appened to y' accent, den?"
If possible, the confused girl's eyes got even rounder. "Accent? Why should I have an accent?"
"You al'ays do in dem tv commercials!" The odd voice insisted
"TV? What are you talking about!"
"You de Miz Clio wi' de magic, no?" Cleo stared at the device in her hand. How did the other person know about Majik? Hesitantly, she answered.
"Yes…I know Majik…"
"Dan you can 'elp me! I gots dis guy, y'see, and I tink he's been cheatin' on me!"
Affronted on behalf of this woman that she'd never seen, Cleo gasped.
"No! That's horrible! You should definitely dump him!" Because Cleo was an expert on dumping guys who were in love with other girls. Right.
"Ya tink? But we've had a lot o' good yea's t'geter, too. Ya don't see us makin' up or notin'?" Now that she had gotten to her problem, all of the bite went out of the other woman's tone. She sounded almost as if she were crying.
"Did he tell you about it, or did you find out on your own?"
"Uh, well, I fund out, but den when I confronted 'im, he admitted it 'n 'pologized. Said dat it din't mean notin'"
Though she realized that the other woman couldn't see her, Cleo started shaking her head. "No, no, no! This guy is going to do it again. If it didn't mean anything, then he woudn't have done it in the first place!"
And on it went, as Cleo spent the rest of the afternoon convincing the strange-sounding woman to dump her boyfriend, or, 'that scumbag,' as the young heiress took to calling him about half-way through the day.
The shop-keeper never returned, which Cleo found rather odd, but she was enjoying herself too much to really worry. Once or twice, customer's came in, and the girl put her caller on hold in order to take care of them. Luckily, all of the items were marked with prices, and the customers knew exactly what they were seeking. By the time supper rolled around, Cleo was having the time of her life, she'd even caught herself slipping into the strange woman's accent a time or two.
Since she was meeting her friends for supper, she left the money she'd earned under the counter and closed the shop door behind herself. The boys were already waiting for her in the hotel's small dining area, Majik looking tired enough to go to sleep right on the table, and Orphan looking annoyed that she was late.
"Cleo! Where've you been all day!" The dark-haired boy scowled.
Still cheerful, Cleo winked slyly, startling Orphan. "Y'can call me Miz Cleo, y' unde'stand now?"