Caution: Quills may be sharp Circulation: 175,300,946 Issue: 363 | 10th day of Collecting, Y10
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Paint On the Walls


by silver_mirage

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In the blazing hot months of summer, our little corner of Brightvale is tranquil and quiet. That is, it is until I stir things up. In the peaceful hours before dawn, before the stifling heat settles in, I’m the one who plans what’s going to happen today. Will it be grackle bugs in their pillows? Or is it time for hot sauce in their borovan? Will today be the day for transmogrification potions sprinkled over their cereal?

      My name is Mityaro, the most gorgeous cloud Gnorbu you ever did see, and I am the one who is solely responsible for anything interesting that happens at 1229, Knowitall Road. Today, I was tad lazy and opted for something simple...

      “MITYARO!”

      And yet my family still falls for it.

      I adjusted my abundant mane and stretched, ready to face the lovely music downstairs.

      As I made it down the hall towards the kitchen, I heard the grunts, groans, and disgusted sounds of a plan gone well. I grinned.

      “What on Neopia is the matter, dear owner?” I purred, as innocently as I could, opening up the door.

      Before me was my sister, Glella, a Christmas Pteri, hacking and coughing over a flowerpot, our tenant Rorgilia, an exceptionally irritating spotted Kougra, brushing her teeth madly over the kitchen sink, and Miadiu, our chef, a shadow Ogrin, looking positively green. Oh, and I can’t forget my owner, who was rather angry at the moment, glaring at me over a ruined picnic lunch. I could barely keep from cracking up.

      Vapor spoke so quietly that I could barely hear her. “The matter is that while you were sleeping until noon, we were out on a picnic. And somehow our sandwiches were switched around.”

      I knew my brilliant plan was working then. Vapor quite often raises her voice, in fact her volume changes with her mood, which, seeing how random she usually is, means every other minute. But it’s only when she is her most furious she speaks so quietly.

      “The matter is that Rorgilia had a mouthful of worms and Glella had egg salad. The matter is that Miadiu ate corned beef!” Vapor barked. “The matter is that I nearly ate a pecan sandwich!”

      I almost snorted out loud, imagining the mayhem. But I kept a straight face.

      “Well, I’m sure that’s horrible, Vapor, but I don’t see how-”

      “I’m allergic, Miadiu! I could have had a serious reaction!” Vapor said, almost in tears. “Miadiu is a vegetarian! You have no idea how much you’ve scarred him! Someone could have really gotten hurt this time! Your pranks have been relatively harmless before, but-’’

      I could tell she was going to go on for a while. Come on, Vapor. I thought. Dish it out already, come on. Get on with it!

      “And you went to the hairdresser’s again yesterday, even after I specifically told you not to! They’re expensive, Mityaro!” Vapor paused to take a breath. “Now, we are going out to eat, and then we are going to a concert in Tyrannia. And you are not going!”

      Vapor stormed out, and everyone except Glella followed her.

      “Serves you right, Mityaro. You could have seriously hurt someone.” She growled, began to walk away, but spun back around. “And I’m a Pteri, Mityaro! Egg salad? You are sick.”

      Then she followed Vapor out, slamming the door behind her. I was alone, now. I smiled into the empty kitchen. It worked.

      I raced upstairs to my room, and watched the four of them take off down the road. My plan; it had worked even better than I hoped! Lunch might take at least an hour and a half, and another hour to get to Tyrannia. The concert and after-party will take two hours, at best. So, about four hours! More than four hours! All to myself.... I was only hoping for one or two!

      I turned slowly to face my room. My room had blaring white walls, walls almost like... like a canvas. I had light, easy-to-move furniture... A cot, a lightweight dresser, a writing desk. Quickly, I arranged everything in the center, and pulled the loose floorboard back, revealing brushes and bright paint. I piled everything on my desk.

      Examining the walls, I reached over and grabbed a fine-bristled brush. I closed my eyes, and allowed an underwater scene to unfold underneath my eyelids. I grinned, and opened my eyes to the blank wall. Stroke after stroke revealed the Peophins and Flotsams dancing underwater before a restored Maraqua.

      Two hours later, the mural revealed bright purple coral and almost neon green kelp blended with the sea green currents in the background, and lively Maraquans darting back and forth. I smiled silently, and stood back to appreciate my work. I reached back into the cavity under the loose floorboard and retrieved my prized camera.

      The camera’s flash lit up the now colorful walls. A photograph slid out, and I caught it. I took several pictures of all the walls before carefully putting the camera away. In the same movement, I took a large bundle of photographs and slid the new pictures inside.

      I honestly think today’s was even better than last week’s Lost Desert! I thought to myself as I compared the pictures. I grinned, and then carefully wrapped up the photographs.

      I wiped my colorful brush clean, then gathered it and all my other supplies away, then, almost as an afterthought, withdrew a large brush and a can of white paint. I dipped the brush in paint, and hid the watery world behind a white blank canvas again.

     Finally, I arranged the furniture back into their original spots, careful not to touch the wet paint on the walls. They would dry in an hour or so; plenty of time before the family came home.

     ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      “Mityaro!”

      I looked up from my copy of the Neopian Times. Oh, wonderful. They’re home.

      “Mityaro, we’re home!”

      I sighed. I suppose Vapor wanted me to come down.

      “Mityaro, I know you’re here, and I know you can hear me.”

      I waited. Oh, Fyora. I really hope she isn’t going to come up and rattle on and on about-

      “Look, Mityaro, I’m coming up!”

      Oh, sweet rainbow dung.

      I could hear her climb the stairs. She paused in front of my door before knocking firmly.

      “Mityaro, I just want to talk.”

     I ignored her, and she sighed before she let herself in. She sat down on the edge of my cot.

      “This has to stop. This was the third prank this week,” Vapor said, frowning. “...And it’s Wednesday.”

      I kept on ignoring her. It didn’t work. Vapor looked away from me, and sighed, but changed the subject.

      “I found one of your sketch books last week, Mityaro.”

      I swear, my heart skipped a beat.

      “What?” I gasped.

      She glanced at me.

      “You’re talented, Mityaro. Really talented,” she murmured. “Look, there’s an art contest in town... And, Mityaro, I think you should enter.”

      She handed me a flyer. I examined it. The flyer was one I’d seen before around town. Only rich, popular pets entered, mostly because of the entrance fee. You had to be incredibly talented to actually stand a chance.

      “I’ll pay the fee. You really could win, Mityaro. You could,” she said, and then added, “And it might even break you of this awful pranking habit.”

      I sat there, tongue-tied. Vapor got up.

      “I’ll let you think about it,” she said as she left.

     I sat there for a moment, silent. Then a grin slowly spread across my face, and I began to plan a prank for tomorrow.

      If I’m going to win that contest, I’m going to need some practice!

The End

 
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