Big bro, little bro
(This story's dedicated to my friend Christopher, who has lost his senses recently and thus inspired me to plot the character of the insane brat in this story.)
An incessant bubbling noise was erupting through the washroom door. “Just guess what he's up to now” murmured Alan as he let out an exasperated sigh. “He's just intolerable”. Alan strode towards the washroom door and knocked, “What the hell are you doing in there?” “Mind your own business”, came the reply. Alan felt annoyed," if you mess up things one more time, I'll smack your bottom!” he admonished furiously. “Go to hell!” yelled out Phil, the nine year old brat for whom Alan couldn't even rest for a while. Alan gave a final nasty kick to the door before he flounced out, leaving Phil cursing and yelling out names after him.
Phil was a nine year old kid who was already the greatest nuisance his mum and dad (including the fellow neighbours of-course) had to face. He was pudgy, red haired, and his blue eyes radiated a cunning brilliance. Alan Stuart, his exhausted brother, having hair a bit auburn and black eyes, entered the living room, cursing under his breath. He slumped down on the couch and switched on the TV. Instantaneously, a cacophony of blaring noises erupted, apparently from one of those kid's channels, and Alan motioned to skip to somewhere else. "he's not even sensible for a nine year old”, Alan continued his agitated mutterings…………
A burst of tantrums woke Alan up from his short nap. Phil was obviously over-excited with something. Alan crept up surreptitiously and cast a glance at Phil's bedroom. Phil's rapturous voice could be heard from the closet, and through the washroom door kept ajar, a mysterious light shone as if beckoning Alan to venture there. Alan strode inside. Everything was in a mess in the washroom, thick layers of foamy bubbles were strewn everywhere, the bucket was tumbled upside down, and an assortment of materials could be seen bobbing in the bathtub. As Alan reached for the mirror to clear away the layer of bubbles deposited there, something caught his eyes that set his blood boiling with rage. His newly bought hair cream was there, lid opened, almost empty, with only some cream sticking to the surfaces remaining……………
Phil rushed out of the bedroom with Alan in hot pursuit; but, as always, his mother was there to keep her chicken safe under her wings. “You have ruined everything! You have emptied the whole jar only to dump them for your worthless experiments...you blithering carrot-topped idiot!" I don't give a damn to your worthless shits of hairy stuffs, dumb blonde!”. Alan only stared, dumbfounded…..he couldn't believe that Phil had the guts to retort back………..
Alan was once more slumped stoically on the couch, his head buzzing with suppressed anger, and his mother's irritating words of 'how-to-be-careful-against-younger-brothers-and-sisters' echoing in his head. Alan got up, well; forgiveness of the weak was the best exemplification of humanity, he thought, though he wasn't sure whether Phil was that weak anymore. As he crossed the living room for his bedroom to do some mailings, he saw Phil ensconced comfortably in the sofa, watching one of his favourite TV shows. He was fumbling with a large bowl of snacks, wasting more than he was eating, and chorusing with the end-of-show song of 'Barney and friends'….
I love you, you love me,
Well, Alan couldn't help thinking, that was better than the meaningless blabbering of “Hi, I'm Ernie, you must be Bert” of Sesame street.
Alan started his computer and browsed to check his mailbox. Yes........., he had got a mail at last, the answer he was hoping for such a long time. He stared intently at the monitor gleaming brightly, waiting for their returned message.
Alan was, for a long time, busy in enquiring at a popular site for talented men. They consisted of a group of very talented persons, most of whose IQ rated higher than 120. He had long been trying to get himself enlisted as a member. When the message appeared, Alan looked at it for a moment before giving out an exuberant yell. The news wasn't that much exciting though, he was not yet a member, but his IQ test result had already exceeded an incredible score of 110, more than was required...; all his grudge against Phil ebbed away.
"Everyone's big brothers and sisters seem to be a great nuisance to them," it read,"...mine doesn't," Alan's eyebrows knitted sardonically," My big brother Alan is just the one any other kid could have wished for; he just interferes a little...can't blame him really, he is more caring and responsible than anyone else. He's very tall, fashionably modern and has auburn hair. He's really brilliant for his age (15), he's got an IQ of above 110, and is about to be enrolled as an IQSpinners' member. I'm always inspired by his achievements, and am proud to be so....." Alan's read was interrupted by a shrill voice and a hand snatching the notebook away."Hey you dumb-blonde," burst out Phil," How the hell did you dare to pilfer at my..." Alan would have smacked him hard for his attitude, but this time, however, he didn't.
By The Raconteur
With this nifty piece of tech the disabled are no longer bound to city sidewalks and can now go on cross-country adventures with friends and family such as over a sidewalk. The chair was designed by a guy for his wife and he enlisted the help of NPC Robotics, of BattleBots fame, to design the motors.
For every 10 chairs sold, TankChair is going to donate one to a fire department in a rural area so that they can give it away to someone who would not normally be able to afford one.
Futuristic Bumper Sticker
It is doubtlful that it is a good idea as people have a habit of saying a lot of rude things which are replied to in more rude terms and so on.
Porsche Love Seat
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