Bonfire Boys

It was past bedtime, way past bedtime. In fact, it was bedtime 3 hours ago. But tonight was an exception, just tonight.

Two of them trooped into the hall, heads bowed as if in shame. One male and one female. Seconds later, they were joined by 5 other males, all wearing the same outfit – black jackets and white trousers, with a white shirt and black tie.

The seven made their way to a long dining table, the woman taking the foot, and the men fanned out, 3 on either side.

At the head of the table stood a sort of large box with black blinds drawn across the front. Whoever sat within that box could see out, but none could see in.

The woman was named Princess Peach, but of course, this wasn’t her real name (which could be Peach for all we know) – only a codename that was picked out of a child’s game. The others had similarly thought of codenames. The three on her left were Mr. Gum, Captain Underpants and Dr. Steele – Dr. Steele was the one who came in with her. On her right were Pikachu, Ron San Saba Dixie and Bob.

Only they knew who gave them such ridiculous codenames, but they gritted their teeth and got of with life.

At the end of the room, a door opened and a bright stream of light shone into the room. A straight white line from the door to the black box.

In came 3 more of them, forming a tight triangle as they walked down the path of light. Between them walked another person, wearing cotton blue clothing and slippers that bore the head of a blue headed monster on each foot, the one who was ushered into the box.

Now these three, from left to right, were: Mickey Mouse, Voldemort and Wii. May all that is good take pity on the one named Wii.

Then from the little black box, came a rusty distorted voice.

“Speak”

“We failed,” Princess Peach murmured, “his head didn’t make any contact with any chairs.”

“Instead, he fell on some girl and she took the head injury,” Dr. Steele finished, “the victim wasn’t hurt at all.”

“Who pulled?” the box demanded.

Peach coughed, and answered, “Steele.”

“Confirm, Dr. Steele?”

“Yes,” Steele mumbled, “I pulled, but the girl got in the way.”

“Well then,” the box snarled, “you suck.”

“I understand,” Steele mumbled, scratching his head, “I’m sorry.”

“We should have sent Ron San Saba Dixie,” the box growled, “at least he’s got brains. He wouldn’t have pulled the guy onto the girl.”

“But Steele’s the strongest,” Peach muttered.

“Anyone could have pulled a person off a tall platform,” the box hollered, his voice cracking,” even I could have done it.”

“Yes, yes,” Peach scowled, as she leaned back on her chair, crossed her arms, and added to herself, “sure you can.”

‘We can always frame the girl for it,” Voldemort said quickly, his voice was high pitched and always went higher whenever he pronounced an ‘A’, “they would be asking questions soon.”

“That is interesting,” the box pondered, “and we can time other attacks to frame the girl for them as well.”

Peach growled and glared at Voldemort, who shrank under her gaze of daggers.

“Captain Underpants,” the box declared, addressing a blushing big-sized man, “show me the rest of them.”

Underpants fumbled with a tiny remote control and nearly dropped it. After looking hastily up at the Box, he stabbed a button and a large screen behind the box flickered to life. Inside the box, a smaller monitor came on, previewing the same screen for the person inside it.

A picture of an extremely handsome teenager flickered on screen. He had light brown curls and brown eyes. His top body was slightly twisted around and was giving the camera a mild wave. His eyes weren’t looking at the camera but at something relatively near it. A large, red cross marked itself on the photo and it minimized to one corner.

Then four more pictures appeared on screen one after another. A Chinese boy wearing sunglasses and carrying a parakeet on his shoulder. A skinny-faced albino chewing on a rose with his eyes closed in tranquillity. A bulky body-builder with a light blonde near-crew-cut, showing off his muscles to a crowd near the camera.

And an emotionless blonde haired boy looking straight at the camera with amazingly green eyes.

“That one seems like he knows something,” the box murmured as the picture of the blonde boy slowly enlarged, “we’ll save him for last.”

“He was glaring at me all the time,” Steele added quietly< “he definitely knows something’s wrong.”

“We’ll leave him for last then,” the box snapped, and the picture minimized next to the first one. Three remained on screen.

“Remember we need to frame the girl for it too,” Peach yawned idly.

“I know that!” the box snapped, and then quiet.

“Does she have a Daschund puppy, by any chance?” the box asked the table. As an answer, 10 grins flashed across the room.