FanStory.com - C9 - Readying the Troopsby Y. M. Roger

Grinning, Archie shook his head in a dismissive manner as he held the can over the two imps – their faces along with most of their torsos and upper arms covered in blueberry juice.

“Minah and Sprig,” Archie chided, “I worry about the two of ye.”

There was only a bit left in the can, but the two spread all their arms out and hummed as the last of the water dribbled over them.

Constantine yanked on my shirt, motioning for me to lean over. He covered his mouth with his hand as he whispered in my ear.

“Shot and Jerry are actually hard workers when they’re focused.” He rolled his eyes toward Minah and Sprig. “But these two? They’re not playing with a full deck, if ye know what I mean. Ye better keep a special eye on ‘em.”

I straightened and nodded in affirmation, all the while smiling at the entertainment of the four of them. But before I could say anything else, Archie was taking control.

“Now,” Archie’s voice was all authoritative-like, “the four of ye retrieve the correct map for end-of-summer preening and planting.”

Minah and Sprig shook themselves off and zipped over to the open drawer, but Jerry and Shot remained in their puddle, both of their mouths falling open in horror.

“Sir Archie, I think they wan–” I shut my mouth as both Constantine and Archie turned to me in unison, frowns of question or, perhaps, disbelief on their faces. I cleared my throat and put my hands in my pocket – apparently the imps were Archie’s purview.

“Shot and Jerry?” Archie held up two big, fresh blueberries in those funny, pink claws. “I think I gave you an order.” His beady, little magenta eyes altered their focus between the berries and the two unmoving imps standing in defiance.

There was this silent stare-off as Shot began to vibrate and Jerry began lolling his head, his body slumping as he whined pitifully. Constantine was once again mumbling under his breath about the personality traits of imps in general.

The only sound was the rustling of paper from inside the filing cabinet drawer.

Then Archie began moving the berries ever so slowly toward his mouth, opening it in time with the approach of his hand. Just when I was convinced Archie was gonna have yet another berry snack, Shot grabbed hold of Jerry’s back foot and launched them vertically to eye-level with the determined armadillo, poor Jerry hanging upside down in Shot's grip.

“You made your point, Sir Archibald!” Shot stated emphatically.

Poor Jerry, still hanging, tried to get his bearings straight, wings flapping in confusion. “Do you see how weak I am from hunger? I can’t see or fly straight. O, benevolent and powerful Groundskeeper, plea–”

Shot continued, interrupting Jerry's pitifulness. “Do we get ‘em when the map’s ready?”

Archie nodded regally. “As long as it’s done efficiently and respectfully.”

Satisfied with that answer, Shot dropped Jerry, who recovered valiantly just before he landed back in the puddle, and they both flew into the drawer.

Archie gave a solid nod of approval and trundled over to the desk against the wall.

“We’ll be ready to go straight away, Groundskeeper Nicholas!”

Oh, good, I thought. But the real question on my mind was: Where were we gonna go?

To be continued…