Bake Sale Aftermath

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Today’s entry:

OK, so yesterday didn’t go that well, to say the least.  I’m not even sure where to start.

I guess the first mistake we made was in thinking Edrear wouldn’t actually mind that much if Vi and I went to the bake sale, really really quick.  Because I grew up eating Mrs. Passardi’s marzipan cookies and I seriously could not live the rest of my afterlife without them, we decided to just sneak out before dusk and grab a few off the table, where she’d set up her stuff to sell.  We didn’t actually run into Edrear on the way out, which was weird, because it was pretty typical to see him hanging around the grounds outside when night started to fall.  But we just thought it was a lucky break and hurried off to the town.

Everything was going fine…we’d reached the edge of the square, right in that little shrubby area between the library and the church, where you can kind of go through the bushes and get to the pavement without anyone seeing you.  I had a dollar on me and we were going to grab a plate of cookies and leave the money on the table.  No sweat. 

And that was the moment that Boxtop showed up.

Boxtop is this awful little cat that lives sort of feral in Bizenghast.  He’s dirty, smelly and has fleas.  He bites anyone stupid enough to try and pet him.  I don’t know who feeds him, but I’m guessing most of the people with businesses on main street feel sorry for him, because he never seems to go hungry.  Everyone sees him hanging around the streets, but we’re all pretty used to it.  I used to spot him sitting in Mr. Duskett’s flowerbox outside his store every day.  He’d climb up all slow and grouchy into the box, methodically kick all the dirt and flowers out of until it was empty, then nap in it.  What a little jerk.

So Boxtop decided to attend the bake sale too, apparently.  And he also decided to find out what was making a racket in the bushes near the library.  He was snooping around behind us, just looking through the bush leaves and smelling the ground, but I didn’t think much of it.  Next thing I know, Vincent starts kicking at the bushes next to him and yelling that Boxtop bit him.  Then Boxtop gets all surprised and leaps on Vincent’s back and sinks his claws in, and Vincent jumps straight out of the bushes, into the town square…matter of fact, he landed right between Mr. Aberdeen’s lemonade tent and a bunch of boxes filled with Girl Scout cookies. 

Everyone drops what they’re doing and starts screaming at the sight of him.  I couldn’t figure out why for a moment, but then I was like DUH.

"You’re supposed to be dead, idiot!" I yelled.  "Get back here!"

Everyone was freaking out and throwing things, three people fainted, the whole cake table went over on its side and launched a bunch of frosted cakes into the fountain and Boxtop ran headlong into a tablecloth and pulled it right off until it wrapped around him.

So now you’ve got this sheet-covered cat running around the square, making screaming, wailing cat noises, and everyone thinks it’s a ghost and they start shrieking their heads off and running away.  A bunch of those teens we saw the other day are there and they’re trying to avoid Boxtop and his tablecloth, and one of them makes a grab for the cloth as it goes by, catches the end of it and Boxtop comes sprinting out the other end at full speed.  He makes a beeline for that big tree in front of the library and disappears up into its leaves.  A couple of its branches shake, there’s a huge amount of hissing and snarling and out falls Edrear, right on top of the teen who caught the tablecloth.   His face is covered in cat scratches and he looks half-psycho.

Yeah, that whole “I’m gonna go observe the people of the town for new agents” thing?  Apparently after we told him that the whole town was turning out for the bake sale, he decided it would be the perfect place to observe everybody in town.  So he got there early and hid in the tree.

I didn’t even notice him at first, until I saw Vincent standing there with his jaw hanging open.  I can’t even imagine what all of this looked like to the townspeople.  Oh wait, I can imagine it perfectly:    

Two kids that were supposed to have died months ago jumped out into the middle of a bake sale, followed by a loud sheet-ghost that’s running around trying to bite everyone’s ankles, then a guy with a SWORD jumped out of a tree and tackled a teenager to the ground.

I heard someone yell, “He’s got a weapon!” and Mrs. Dahlia-Crosset, who’s like 90 years old and half-deaf, stops fishing soggy cakes out of the fountain and screams, “What, he does?  HE’S GOT A GUN!”  And anyone left in the square immediately tries to duck and cover under the overturned tables.

At this point, the only cop in town drew the only handgun in town and started nervously yelling for Edrear to drop his weapon.  Being Edrear, he just stood there looking baffled.  Vi and I decided to scram in the confusion, because there was NO way I wanted to stay and try to explain our way out of it.  Last I saw before we reached the woods, Edrear was being frisked by the cop and refusing to let go of his sword.

And no, I did not get my cookies, thank you very much.

So Edrear got hauled off to county jail for having an unlicensed weapon or something, and I guess for attacking a minor by falling on him.  I figured the only person who could get him out of lockup was Edaniel, since the whole town knows Vincent and me by sight.

And now I’d like to pause and let Vincent finish the story tomorrow, because (and I want this on record) it’s his fault that things went from bad to worse at this point.  Everything would have been so much easier, if he hadn’t screwed it all up.  I admit the bake sale thing was kind of my fault, but I wash my hands completely of the rest of this little story

Signed,

Guilds(wo)man Dinah

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