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Imp And The Beast
Author: Stephanie Hudson







“Haha, Gotcha!” I shouted with utter joy at beating my latest foe… sneaky little bastard couldn’t escape my genius, or my rainbow glitter flip flop for that matter. Of course, the battle wasn’t over as the little bulgy eyed bugger had a comrade, one that now wanted to get his revenge for me squishing his friend.

“Wah you doing, Aunty Pippy?” the sweetest voice in the world asked from behind where I was balancing on a pair of rare late-17th century walnut chairs. They were English, and what was known in the fussy fart of the antique world as the William and Mary period, circa 1695. I mean, how jammy is that? Born into royalty and then have an era of furniture making, one you had nothing to do with, named after you!

Not that I was bitter, of course, because unlike these silver-spooned bloomers, I had contributed in other ways to the Western world. But oh no, that list would have been classed as bragging. Like the time I introduced my buddy Leo to Lisa del Giocondo, better known as Mona Lisa, who just so happened to become the most recognised painting in history. Or like when I invented the word Dude back in the 1870’s, no one thought it was going to catch on in replacing the word dandy, but yet here we are now and it’s still going strong. Take that, Shakespeare. I mean, okay, so the dude (see what I did there) did invent like a bazillion words in the English language, but come on, ‘fishify’, what was he thinking with that one!? Now, as for Wittolly and Zany, now those were the Shanizzle!

But that’s getting way off the bug killing topic, and well, I was barely on it to begin with before my mind led me down the fancy chair route. At this point, I should probably mention that I kinda suffer from what I like to call Squirrel syndrome… thank you Pixar’s movie UP for that little beauty. Basically, for those who haven’t seen this ECC (Epic Cuteness Classic), it’s when the dogs are all talking and then suddenly stop as they smell a squirrel. Well, this is like me and my brain. We don’t always get along… and yes, I know what you’re thinking, is this chick mental? And the answer would be a possible yes, what I tell people is a definite no.

Truth is I was just… Me.

Uniquely unique.

Like the comforting butter you want on a sandwich even when your filling is wet and you don’t need it, because your bread isn’t dry and you can’t even taste it… but, like I said, it’s comforting, so you spread me anyway. Now was this madness…? To some brainy dude with glasses, potentially so… but to those who know me, I’m just spreadable fat you want to lick off your finger or smother over your baked potato.

So, getting away from butter and back to the question…

“I’m catching flies, sweet pea, peach, pear, plum,” I said, knowing she would giggle at her long-winded name that was always worth it in my mind. Of course, everything I said was usually long winded but geez, those crazy looks I get made it totally worth it! But my complete and utter favourites were the warm, lovely big ones I got from my snuggle bun cake…

My Adam.

He was the Joker to my Harley Quinn, the Mulder to my Scully, the Bert to my Ernie, the iron to my Man… err, wait, not sure that one works, but hey you get the idea here. Adam was my everything! Of course, he also was the most powerful being in all the Realms combined, but to me, he was simply my squishems.

Now of course, it wasn’t always like this, as at one time I was meant to be a crunchy little snack for the big guy, hulk side of Adam, but that was until he got to know me, and realised sometimes even food could be entertaining… and not in a ‘hey look this apple is cut into the shape of a bird’ way, which I could totally do. Now, making a bird apple fly was another thing entirely, as throwing it off the top of Afterlife didn’t exactly go well, especially not when it fell on the roof of a Ferrari that the King of Kings had been getting into at the time. Let’s just say that shit like that was kinda my calling card, so it didn’t take a genius to know who the culprit was. But then, that’s when my buddy, pal and spawn of my best friend’s loins comes in handy, as I seem to be able to get away with a lot more stuff if I have my small companion with me.

Of course, she was as cute as a button… although, why anyone ever called buttons cute, is beyond even my brand of crazy… but she was my little buddy, who became my excuse for, well… pretty much everything I did, as I never failed to entertain her.

But I am getting way ahead of myself, because you could be reading this and be like… wait, what… I have no kumquat of an idea what this green and blue haired chick’s on about.

Well, let me give you the low down on this high jacked up story narrative.

My name’s Winifred Pipper Ambrogetti… I know, I know, mouthful, right, plus Winifred… what Momma tree was even thinking with that one, I will never know. Jeepers, even Pocahontas’ parents could have come up with something better for this mad chica! Now though, Pip suits me just fine and it’s what most people call me. As for what I look like, well nobody wants to read half of a bloody story without knowing what the main characters looks like now, do they…? Nope, that shit pisses me off, because I think in my head, yeah, they look bitchin’ hot with hot pink hair and then boom! They got brown… nope, that shit don’t fly with this narrator.

So, quick rundown, my hair’s green with blue tips, and thank the breezy for hair dye was all I can say, ‘cause that henna crap was not fun. Plus, it smelled like rotting cabbage! You could say that there was a reason one of the worst jobs in history was done by the dudes that dyed shit purple, and why purple was a royal colour… because it was expensive for a reason. Created from the desiccated glands of sea snails, those poor buggers were smashed open and dried out in the sun before being boiled and left fermenting for ten days before even a single small swatch of fabric could be turned purple. Those snails became more expensive than gold, and what made this one of the worst jobs ever, was you were basically committing yourself to becoming the smelliest person in the town, and that shit stank worse than shit itself!

But again, this feels like another squirrel moment, so moving on once more…

My big eyes are green with a ring of blue, hence the matching hair, which so far, I hadn’t gotten bored of. Now, if you were to ask me what my natural colour was, then the answer to that secret would be red. I know, shocker right. As for my features and shit, well I was classed as cute. I’m talking seriously cute here, not beautiful, even if Adam told me I was… and daily.

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