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Ezanna grinned to himself as he strode through the door
of his NeoHome. To his delight, Zarrelian was already home, and currently immersed
in some very devious mischief.
The Halloween Ixi was standing up on the kitchen
counter, his snout buried in a very valuable ceramic cookie jar. Zarrelian’s
tiny devil’s tail wagged from side to side like a malfunctioning metronome as
he shoved his mouth full of Asparagus chip biscuits. Ezanna leaned against the
doorjamb and examined his claws, mentally counting down the seconds in his head.
Three… Two… One.
"ZARRELIAN!"
Zarrelian jumped up in shock, his hoof nudging
the cookie jar with just enough force that it toppled off the cupboard ledge
and fell to the floor with a crash, shattering instantly. The Ixi turned around
to see his owner, Sunny, standing in the doorway, illuminated by the light from
the room behind her. Zarrelian winced as a particularly hard cookie conked him
on the head.
"ZARRELIAN!" Sunny repeated, shouting so loud
that the entire house shook. "I TOLD YOU TO KEEP OUT OF THE COOKIE JAR!" she
screeched.
Zarrelian rolled his eyes and waved his hoof.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m very, very sorry, I’ll never do it again, yada yada.
Just give me my punishment and we’ll call it a day."
Sunny groaned and slapped her forehead with
her hand. "Zarrelian, I don’t even know HOW to punish you anymore. I’ve taken
away all your toys, you aren’t scheduled to have dinner for another two months,
and you’ve sang the I’m very sorry song so many times that it doesn’t
even have meaning anymore. I’m running out of ideas!"
Ezanna slicked back his hair and sauntered into
the room, putting on his best, "Innocent Krawk" face. He swaggered over to Sunny
and tugged gently at her shirtsleeve. She whirled around and glared at the Krawk,
her hands on her hips.
"What do you want, Ez?" she snapped, eyeing
Zarrelian angrily out of the corner of her eye. Ezanna cocked his head to the
side and smiled.
"I’ve got a good idea for a punishment, Sunny,"
he replied. Zarrelian stuck his tongue impudently at the Krawk. Ezanna paid
him no attention, and continued.
"You’ve got to prey on what he hates, Sunny."
Ezanna emphasized. "And he hates sports! So…" he grinned from ear to ear and
gaze Zarrelian a devious sneer. "…Why not force him to sign up for the Neoschool’s
Neo-soccer team?"
Sunny smiled, "That’s a fantastic idea, Ezanna!
What would I ever do without you?" She gazed fondly upon her Krawk. "Here, have
a cookie." She grabbed a cookie from off the floor and handed it to Ezanna,
who stuffed it greedily in his mouth, spraying crumbs of asparagus and flaky
biscuit everywhere.
"Haff fun, Zarrelian," he sniggered, his voice
slightly muffled by the half-chewed pastry in his gullet.
Zarrelian snorted angrily and stormed up to
his room, presumably to brush on his Neo-soccer techniques, and doing his best
to ignore the infuriating sound of Ezanna’s triumphant laughter.
***
Mr. Bronston was a bit hesitant to check the Neo-soccer sign-up sheet again.
It wasn’t as though he didn’t have complete faith in Ezanna… He just didn’t
have complete faith in Ezanna. Still, he decided that a little peek couldn’t
hurt. He gingerly padded up to the paper tacked to the wall and scanned it for
names. Well, there was one new name.
Zarrelian.
The Draik sighed dejectedly. Ezanna had somehow
managed to convince Zarrelian to sign up, but he was the only one. Unless he
got at least ten more names, then he couldn’t possibly construct a proper team.
With a heavy heart, he turned away from the sorry Neo-soccer team and shuffled
slowly out of the room.
He shuffled into the gymnasium and slumped into
one of the bleachers, absent-mindedly watching a skunk Krawk as he practiced
shooting Neo-basketballs into a netted hoop. Mr. Bronston’s head suddenly snapped
up. He only knew one skunk Krawk in the school… And that was Ezanna. He launched
himself off the bleachers and soared over to the Krawk, landing neatly in front
of him. Ezanna grinned.
"Oh, hello sir! What’s up?" he greeted. Mr.
Bronston snorted contemptuously.
"Nothing’s up, Ez. Everything’s down. Your plan
didn’t work, the only mind that you succeeded in bending into joining the Neo-soccer
team was the incredibly weak one of Zarrelian’s." He glared at the Krawk, who’s
unwavering enthusiasm and smug grin had begun to annoy him. "I don’t think I
need to tell you that I need at least ten Pets for a certified team, and that
Zarrelian has no sporting talent whatsoever."
Ezanna chuckled. "Oh, my plan’s just started,
Mr. B. Just you wait, you’ll see, as soon as your students come into this gym
and see Zarrelian’s name on the list, they’ll all be queuing up to sign-up!"
he sniggered. "Queuing up to sign-up, I kill myself."
Mr. Bronston rolled his eyes. "If no one signs
up for my team then I’ll do it for you!" He muttered bitterly.
Ezanna’s reply was cut short by the chattering
and laughing of the students as they filed into the gym, already clad in their
PE strips. The Krawk smirked.
"Gotta go, sir," he said, and loped out of the
gym with his Neo-basketball under his arm. Mr. Bronston cast a wary eye over
his students, who had mobbed around the sign-up sheet, bewildered expressions
decorating their features. The Draik smiled slightly and stroked his whiskers.
Maybe Ezanna had something there after all…
***
"I don’t believe it!" Atyur cried in disbelief as he read the sign-up sheet
for the umpteenth time.
"Neither do I! Zarrelian’s terrible at Neo-soccer!"
Kybalt agreed.
"So why, in the name of The Hairy Tongue Beast,
did he put his name on the list?" Asked Kiitsay, a sleek green Gelert.
Nobody knew.
Atyur seated himself on a nearby bench and plopped
his muzzle on his paw, a contemplative look in his eyes. He was silent for moment,
before finally snapping his head back up and gazing at all the clustered Pets.
"Okay, I’ve got a hunch," he announced. Everyone
drew in so that they could hear him properly. "I think," he began. "That Zarrelian
is trying to weasel his way into Mr. Bronston’s good books by signing up for
the Neo-soccer team. You all saw how enthusiastic Mr. Bronston was about the
team, and you all know that he’s been mad at Zarrelian for popping that Neo-soccer
ball." A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Atyur stood up on the
bench and threw open his orange furred paws.
"So, the smartest thing to do would be to sign-up
as well, or else Mr. Bronston will favor Zarrelian over all of us!"
Atyur was a great public speaker. He just had…
the flair. So, after his very meaningful speech, none of the Pets hesitated
to scribble his or her name of the sign-up sheet. In a matter of seconds, the
sheet had completely filled up with the names of aspiring young Neo-soccer players.
Mr. Bronston strode over to the sign-up sheet,
and almost laughed with joy. (Though he didn’t actually laugh, he had to look
tough in front of his students or else they would overthrow him). He grinned
ecstatically and ripped the sheet of the wall, sending the tack flying across
the room to land symbolically in the water fountain.
"Thank you Ezanna!" he shouted. "You’re a genius!"
The Pets exchanged confused glances as they
watched Mr. Bronston bounce around the room, shouting thanks to some weird Pet
called Ezanna. Finally, the overjoyed Draik calmed down enough to wheeze out
the time and place of the first meeting.
"Come to the central field today after school
so that I can hand out your jerseys..." He suddenly regained his stormy demeanor.
"Don’t be late." He growled menacingly, flexing his scaly claws to imprint the
severity of punctuality upon his students.
From the corner of the room, Zarrelian visibly
flinched. What had he gotten himself into?
***
Atyur smiled as he trotted briskly onto the central field. He had to admit,
that, despite a few uncertainties, he was actually looking forward to joining
Mr. Bronston’s Neo-soccer team. He spotted his friend, a striped Grarrl called
Muerte, at the other end of the field. The Lupe waved an orange paw frantically
in the air and ran over to the Grarrl, who had seated himself in the dewy grass
in front of Mr. Bronston along with a multitude of other Pets who had also signed
up for the team. Atyur lowered himself to the ground beside Muerte and fixed
his gaze attentively on his teacher.
Mr. Bronston snorted and shifted the large cardboard
box that he held in his arms. The Draik waited for everyone to be quiet, encouraging
them with a few jets of flame. After all the students had settled down, Mr.
Bronston shoved a claw into the box and pulled out a handsome purple jersey,
complete with gold lettering. The jersey in question had the numbers "00" on
the front, and the name "Zarrelian" on the back. Zarrelian rolled his eyes.
It was so disgustingly predictable that he would be given the jersey that had
a double zero. Mr. Bronston grinned.
"These are your team jerseys. You’d better like
them, because I had to cash in my salary for the rest year in advance to buy
them. Okay, here’s how I’m gonna distribute them. I hold up a jersey, and if
it has your name on it, then you take it. Understood? Good." He tossed the first
jersey at Zarrelian and pulled another one out of the box. This one had the
number "05" and the name "Kybalt" printed in gold along the back.
Kybalt, a fire Zafara, jumped up and grabbed
his jersey, pleased at how nicely the royal purple complimented his flickering
coat. This process continued for the next ten minutes or so. After he had finished
handing out the jerseys, Mr. Bronston kicked the empty box to the side and addressed
his students.
"Okay, you guys can hit the showers."
"Hit the showers?" Zarrelian interjected. "All
we did was sit here while you gave us our jerseys!"
"It’s just an expression," Mr. Bronston replied
as he gathered up his thermos of Borovan and his clipboard. "Come after Neoschool
tomorrow for your first real practice… And remember your jerseys!"
Zarrelian rolled his eyes as he clip-clopped
off in the direction of his NeoHome. He was in a pretty lousy mood for a number
of good reasons. One, he didn’t want to be on the Neo-soccer team at all. Two,
Kybalt had a nicer number than him. And three, after seeing how horribly his
bright red fur clashed with the jersey, Zarrelian had miserably realized that
purple really just wasn’t his color.
To be continued...
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