King Pin sneered snakily as he shut the clasp on his
large leather briefcase.
“I expected as much,” he said huskily. He withdrew
a long, subtly shimmering, powder blue rod from inside his secretive black trench
coat pointed it at the very much trembling Quiggle. The Quiggle gasped in shock.
“W-where in the name of Coltzan did you…” he
trailed off, his wide eyes hungrily staring at the Cloud Rod. King Pin snorted.
“Mind your own business, you nosy twit,” he
snarled, his charcoal scales bunching.
“Y-yes, sir,” stammered the Quiggle.
“Now,” continued K.P, “here’s the deal. You
give me all o’ dem healthy goods without a fussin’, and I give you da ‘points.
Got it, slime?” The Quiggle nodded vigorously. “An’ if any indecent sniveling
snot like yo’self asked where it all went ta’?” he asked, eyeing him intimidatingly.
“M-m-my Slorg ate it,” he replied shakily.
“Righ’. And if you lousy pile o’ Kau dung breathe
a word to any’n?”
The Quiggle twitched as K.P. lowered a finger
to his Cloud Rod.
The extremely tall, muscular Krawk almost smiled.
“’Den ‘dat’s ‘dat.” He snapped his ring-decked
claws and there was the sound of vehicles backing up outside the small, broccoli-shaped
building. A lean, desert-coloured Kyrii stuck his head through the glass double
doors.
“S’all ready for ya’, boss,” he stated, his
head whipping back outside. He returned laden with a large, rust covered crimson
wheelbarrow.
King Pin snapped his fingers again, and this
time it was Veg the Quiggle’s turn to come to attention. The very overwhelmed
store-owner opened a door leading to the back of the shop, where was stored
everything he was going to sell over the next year.
K.P. licked his lips and rubbed his scaly hands
together.
“Marishio, put it in all tha’ truck. Pronto.”
The desert Kyrii scampered into the room and heaved out two large boxes of grapes,
one in each arm.
“Yes, boss.”
And so continued the Sinister Camarilla’s first
theft.
***
The members of the S.C. had met in a large meeting of Neopian robbers and
unknown villains. A major organizer in the event, King Pin had claw-picked five
of the most sneaky, vindictive, venom-tongued cheats, and cordially invited
them to join his little group.
By cordially, I mean that he threatened them
with the good old Cloud Rod and would have handed them to Dr. Sloth and his
big, bag turn-things-into-sludge ray should they have had the guts (or stupidity)
to refuse his offer.
So, as a practice job, King Pin was getting
the Sinister Camarilla to rob the health food store. This would have been the
easiest assignment in the Neopia, had some of his creepy, ruthless comrades-in-arms
been a good deal less dim.
The first mishap to take place was when Sparx
the brown-painted Zafara had slipped her Cobrall dagger into her black, ruby-studded
anklet, instead of her belt. It was common knowledge around the Neopian underground
that Sparx was the number one gal when it came to scaling walls, getting into
buildings through the roof, stealing whatever she wanted, and leaving without
making a sound.
Her reputation now disintegrating before her
lucid eyes, Sparx sat with her bandaged foot resting on the truck’s dashboard.
She sobbed and blew noisily into her Pet Ghostkercheif.
Sparx’s partner Taupé glared at her as he sharpened
his poison-tipped blade, his jaw clenched. Taupé’s job was to accompany Sparx,
pick any locks that stood between her and her goods, and disable any security.
You would be surprised at how many heat and movement-sensing invisi-lasers were
activated in the large cement broccoli-shaped building that was the health food
store. The flame-licked Gelert was a fair bit angry with Sparx, as he was pretty
much useless if she couldn’t do her job.
The second thing to go wrong was that Speire
had a head-cold. It was his own fault, of course, as he had attempted to break
Neopia’s slushies-eaten-in-five-minutes record. The first place contestant was
a very obese, crimson Skeith: two thousand, seven hundred, eight slushies. But,
filled with foolish determination, the headstrong Lupe Speire had none too gracefully
lost the competition, the great roars of applause emanating from the viewers
towards the Skeith— who let rip a large belch or triumph— causing Speire to
teeter on the brink of madness. King Pin had to drag him out of the hall by
the scruff of the neck.
Then, there was Loco. Loco was a bit, well,
eccentric. He was an electric Mynci, who had been put into the scaly claws of
Dr_Death. No one knows how Loco escaped the Pound and showed up at the Crime
Ring (the name of the villain gathering), and Loco has made any move to tell.
He sat in the truck, a shiny yellow yo-yo in his clutches. Loco always seemed
very useless and self-absorbed, making Speire, Taupé, Sparx, and Marishio wonder
at King Pin’s decision to let the Mynci in.
But right now, King Pin was doing business.
And when King Pin was doing business, no one dared interrupt him, lest they
be his next ambush-and-smother-with-pudding-covered-sponges victim.
***
“Quiggle,” growled King Pin, “stop fidgetin’.” The Quiggle moaned and kicked
out uselessly as he was shoved into the fridge, where had once resided dozens
upon dozens of cartons of Kau milk. Veg shuddered as King Pin slammed the door
shut. Marishio pressed his twisted face against the glass and crossed his eyes.
“Is he making fun of me?” muttered Veg irritably,
turning his non-existent neck to avoid the Kyrii’s menacing gaze. “Oh, for Coltzan’s
sake, they forgot that box of cheesy asparagus… Hm…”
King Pin tapped his claw impatiently as Marishio,
the only member of the Sinister Camarilla capable of doing hard labour, packed
the boxes of fruits and veggies into the back of the truck.
He glanced at his platinum watch and tutted.
“Marishio.” The Kyrii snapped to attention. “Hurry up wit’ ‘dose. ‘Da authorities’ll
be off ‘o ‘dere seats any minute now.”
Marishio inclined his head and hurried back
into the store. A minute passed; two minutes; five. King Pin snarled and clenched
his fists.
“Hurry up, ya lazy -- ARGH!” Something wet,
slimy, and extremely awful smelling had slapped him across the face. He clawed
the yellow and green mush from his eyes furiously. “MARISHIO!” he bellowed,
going into the health food store at a run. Marishio was, indeed, there. He just
wasn’t exactly moving. Standing, with a glint of heroism in his eyes, above
the konked-out Kyrii was a very intimidating, armed Quiggle.
“Eat cheesy asparagus!” he shouted hurling another
fistful at King Pin.
***
“Okie-dokie, Mr. Veg. Thanks for helping rid the community of filth--” King
Pin twitched “—and valiantly finding a use for those cheesy asparagus things.
Congratulations…” The very bored looking Chia droned on, not noticing that Veg
wasn’t listening to a word he’d said.
A huge mass of Pets and their Owners were gathered
around his humble shop, bulging wallets in their pudgy hands.
“Mister Veg, sir!” squealed a red maned Usul.
“My Owner can’t afford any battle items, so could I buy some cheesy asparagus?
Pleaaaase?” She batted her long, caramel eyelashes.
Veg smiled and filched green, steaming, yellow-covered
lump from his pocket.
“Go ahead,” he beamed, plopping it into her
hand. “It’s on me.”
The End
Author's Note: Fan-mail, constructive criticism, and hatemail are always
welcome. :) Also, I'm planning on writing another short story involving the
SC, so stay tuned for more!
| 
