Chet Flash wuz here Circulation: 143,481,830 Issue: 301 | 20th day of Swimming, Y9
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A Story of Random Things and Daredevils

by bibliomaniac


So you think your family is weird, huh? Well, you haven’t met my family.


     I groaned loudly. “Not again, Lasacara.”

     She nodded excitedly. “Really, Elaneora, I think this will work!”

     We were standing at the top of our Neohome, my sister holding a board that had two metal things attached to it. I shook my head and told her dubiously, “Lasacara, last time we tried one of your ideas, everyone thought our owner was a bank robber and that we were both Meepits.”

      She considered. “Well, yeah, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to run around with the blue gas from my sock drawer. But, Ela!”

      I protested, “It’s not safe! And what will Bre think?”

     The red Xweetok wheedled, “Please, Ela, Bre said that it was good for me to have a healthy curiosity in things! And it’s not like my thingymabobber is dangerous. I think.”

      I said firmly, “She only told you that after you accidentally whacked her on the head with a shovel trying to dig to the other side of Neopia, Cara. And I think anything that you make is probably dangerous... possibly even illegal.”

      After I had made my mind up, and she had stopped trying to get me on her board, I added defensively, “And my feet aren’t the right shape anyways.”

      I realize at this time that I haven’t introduced myself correctly. I am Elaneora, a red JubJub. My sister is Lasacara (lah-SAA-cuh-ruh, she is very particular about that) and she is a red Xweetok. I am older and more responsible. She thinks I’m paranoid. I think she is way too daring. As you can see, she has many ideas, which usually end up badly. Like the time she decided it would be awfully fun to visit Faerieland, with rocks tied on to our paws. I’m still recovering from that. Or maybe the time when she thought up an invention involving a Hasee, cheese, and a rainbow fuzzle. The Hasee ate the cheese and then threw the fuzzle, on accident, and it accidentally hit the window and broke it. Bre was mad about that one.

      I jumped off the roof of our one-story house just in time to hear Lasacara yelling, “Wheeeeeeeeee!” as she sailed over my head. She landed in a clump of Eizzil having a picnic.

     I rushed over and asked anxiously, “Are you all okay?”

      Cara grumbled, “Sure. Don’t ask about me. I am fine, thanks for asking, not that you did.” She sighed theatrically and announced, “I feel unloved.”

      I rolled my eyes and said, “You were the one who chose to fly off the roof. The Eizzils were just innocent bystanders, and you may have crushed them.” I questioned practically, “Are any of you hurt?” They all shook their heads no, and I queried, “Is your picnic ruined?”

      They looked at me unhappily and nodded.

      I sighed and told them to come into our house, and I could make them some lunch. I could be dramatic too, and as I went into the house I said with mock sadness to my sister, “Now look what you have done, Cara. A whole afternoon ruined. I shall waste away.”

      She hissed randomly, amusement lighting up her eyes, “Pickles taste good with small pillows!”

      I told her solemnly, “Yes. And blobs of jelly mysteriously appear inside my pencil pouch.” With that, I went inside.


      After that, Lasacara quieted down a little. It may have been due to the grounding she got, or else that school had started. Bre insisted that we go to school, although many other Neopets were quite fine without any formal education. As we slogged through the year, Lasacara very rarely came rushing up to me telling me her new idea. And she only seriously injured others twice. All in all, it was a vast improvement, and I dreaded the last day of school.

      Sure enough, the minute the last bell rang on the last day of school, my sister ran up to me and yelled excitedly into my ear, “Ela! Ela! I know how to perfect the Neopian medicinal system!”

      I had been hoping her change would be permanent, but I knew that was too much to ask. I sighed and explained patiently that the Neopian medical system was in perfect shape and didn’t need any help.

      She bellowed into my ear again, “Yeah, but I know how to make it even better!”

      I glared and muttered something about what I would do to her if she made me go deaf. Choosing to ignore me, she continued in a more normal volume, “All you need to do is put in little balls of fur from Fuzzles and then make a huge catalogue of all of the medicines and distribute them equally and add some soup from the Soup Faerie and put in some clouds, just in case, and then tell everyone that soap is good for you-”

      I waited tolerantly as she rambled nonsense. When she was done I said brightly, “I think that would be a bit too hard, Cara. Now we need to get home. Bre said she had a surprise for us.”

      She completely forgot about anything having to do with the medical system and started jumping up and down. She yelled, “We have a surprise! A surprise, a surprise, a surpriiiiii-iiiiiiii-ssssssss-e!”

      I glared at her, and she calmed down a bit. We walked home in half-silence, half-chattering- the silence on my side, the chattering on Cara’s. When we opened the door, Bre was there, a huge smile on her face. She sang delightedly, “I have presents! Presents, presents, preeee-eeeeee-sssss-eeeeee-nnnnnn-tttttt-s!” (Are you still wondering where Lasacara got her personality from?)

      She sat us down in the living room. “Now, Ela, Cara, I know that you’re growing up.” I raised an eyebrow. We were both only a couple of months old. She continued, “And so I decided to give both of you a present.” She turned to Lasacara first. She told her eagerly, “I know you like inventing, and making up ideas. So I got you... a sweater!”

      I stared at her, confused. What did sweaters and inventing have to do with anything? Cara must have seen the connection, because she was jumping around with Bre. Cara was shouting, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

      Bre turned to me. I gulped. She said animatedly, “Now, you are the sensible one, the one who is always keeping Cara from trouble. So I got you... a hammer!”

      I gawked at her. I finally said weakly, “Wow. Thanks. I’ll use it all the time.” Now I knew where the random gene came from.

      Lasacara announced, “Bre, I have a present for you, too!” Bre pivoted and screamed, “That’s so sweet! Explain it.”

      Cara said happily, “You are the one that takes care of us and gets us things and is nice. I saw this in a shop and it seemed perfect!” We both waited. She told us, grinning, “I got you a tissue box!” Bre paused.

      Then her face lit up. “Oh, thank you! That’s so nice! It is perfect!” I left the room.

      Later, Cara came in with her new sweater. I asked her hesitantly, “Cara? What does your sweater have to do with inventing?”

      She looked at me like I was crazy. “I’ve been wanting to make a cushion for my thingymabobber for forever, Ela. The sweater is perfect.”

      Growing more confident, I questioned, “And what does a hammer have to do with being sensible and a caretaker?”

      Cara told me seriously, “It’s so you can help me with my inventions so others don’t get hurt so much.”

      I digested that, and finally asked, “What about the tissues?”

      She shrugged and said, “Bre has a cold.”

      I got it! All of the weird things had a reason! I smiled. “That was nice of you, Cara.”

      She looked at me, then burst into laughter. “You really believed me?”

      I frowned immediately. “That wasn’t true?”

      She giggled, “No, of course not! Bre wanted to see how you would react. You are always the practical one. She wanted to see how you would take it if we got completely nonsense things and I explained them.”

      I was growing angrier by the minute. I growled, “Why?”

      She sang, “Because it will help improve the medicinal system of Neopia!”

      I groaned. Some things never will change, I guess.


      So that’s my family. After that, you can’t truly think yours is stranger, can you? My sister thinks up bizarre, life threatening things, and my owner thinks a hammer is a good gift. But I suppose that’s just the way life is, and I’m lucky to have a family at all.

     May your meatballs always be filled with Christmas stockings!

The End

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