The Birds

Chapter 9: Herman's Book of Love Knots

Francine: "Gin!"

Carla rolled her eyes and threw her cards down on the bedtable.

Carla: "That's seventeen hands in a row that you've won."

Francine smiled coyly, gathered up the cards, and began shuffling them.

Francine: "What can I say, I am the Mistress of Cards, Princess of Poker, Duchess of Rummie,
and Consort to the One-Eyed Jack."

Carla: "You're also raking me over the coals."

Francine: "You're not doing that bad."

Carla: "I owe you, what, thirty hours free overtime now?"

Francine: "Thirty-four.  But who's counting."

They both giggle for a moment over this.

Nurse Hillary: "I'm going to have to work five extra shifts to pay off this."

Carla: "That's it?!!  How much do they pay you?"

Nurse Hillary: "Well, I am a trained medical professional."

Francine: "That's true."

Francine dealt out the next hand.  Carla took up her cards and began to shuffle them around.
Nurse Hillary looked at hers while nibbling on her nails.  Her white tail swished back and fourth
on the floor beneath her chair as she studied her cards.

Francine: "Hillary, I don't mean to be so forward, but I can't seem to . . . What I mean to say is . .
. Well you're too sleek to be a cat, and you're too tall and thin to be a fox . . ."

Carla: "Not to mention the white fur with the black tips."

Francine: "So . . . I don't mean to be rude, but what are you?"

Nurse Hillary smiled, she was used to this.  Little Tokyo had never seen many of her kind.

Nurse Hillary: "Ermine."

Carla: "Herman???"

Nurse Hillary: "No, ermine."

Francine: "Herman who?"

Nurse Hillary also had constant trouble with her accent.

Nurse Hillary: "No, I am an ermine."

Both Francine and Carla looked at her strangely.

Carla: "But . . . Your name's Hillary."

Nurse Hillary: (exasperated) "No, my name isn't ermine, ermine is what I am."

Francine: "Sooooo . . ."

Carla: "So you're a Herman named Hillary."

Nurse Hillary: "Not Herman, ermine!"

Francine: "But that's what she just said!"

Doctor Bitterwolf: "I tell you doctor, I still can't believe those test results."

He and Doctor Kats continued walking down the hallway.

Doctor Kats: "Incredible aren't they doctor."

Doctor Bitterwolf: "Quite."

Nurse Hillary: (distant) "What is WRONG with you people?!!  Ermine!  ERMINE!!!"

Doctor Bitterwolf: (sighing) "Oh bother.  You'd better go take care of it."

Doctor Kats: (also sighing) "It never stops does it?"

Doctor Bitterwolf: (laughing) "You want peace and quiet, become a chiropodist."

Doctor Kats gave a shudder.

Doctor Kats: "No thank you."

He hurried down the hall and into a room filled with one frustrated woman, two confused women,
and one unconscious man.

Carla: "But if you're a Hillary why do you keep insisting that you're a Herman?"

Hillary: "I'm not a Herman, I'm an ermine!"

Francine: "But that's what she just said?!!"

Hillary: "No it ISN'T!!!"

Doctor Kats: "Hillary?"

Everyone stopped and looked over at the good doctor.

Doctor Kats: "Hillary, I'd like to check the patients' vital signs.  Could you go fetch a stethoscope
and blood pressure gauge please?"

Nurse Hillary smoothed out her uniform, composed herself, and turned.

Nurse Hillary: "Certainly Doctor."

After she had left, Doctor Kats came over to the bed and leaned down close to the two women.

Doctor Kats: "Ermine is the "Politically Correct" way of saying weasel."

Carla and Francine were slightly taken aback by this.

Francine:(downcast) "Oh."

Carla:(also downcast) "We didn't realize . . . "

Doctor Kats: "Quite alright I'm sure.  It's just that among her kind "weasel" is considered to be a
derogatory term, so you can understand why she gets so worked up about it."

Francine: "I've never met a weas . . . I mean an ermine before."

Carla: "I'd always heard that they were taller and ugly.  Hillary's beautiful."

Doctor Kats: "That's how it is with stereotypes, they're never accurate.  It's just like how
everyone assumes that doctors are concerned about nothing but their tee-off time." <Speaking of
which, I've got tee-off in an hour.  I'd better hurry.>

Francine: "I'd always heard that they had brown fur, not white."

Doctor Kats: "They do in the summer time." <Hmmm . . . Hillary in the summer.  Liking that!>

Carla: "You mean she changes color."

Doctor Kats: "She changes according to the season." <And would I like to see how she changes
during bikini season.  Ooooooo BABY!!!>

Francine: "I can't seem to picture what she would look like in brown after seeing so much of her
in white.  How would she look doctor?"

Doctor Kats: <Hot as hell> "Perfectly lovely Miss Manx."

Nurse Hillary came in with a cart, upon which were various medical instruments.

Nurse Hillary: "Here you are doctor."

Doctor Kats: "Thank you Hillary."

He put on the stethoscope and came over to Francine's bedside.

Doctor Kats: "If you would be so kind, Miss Manx, as to sit up, we can begin."

Speaker Four: "HEYA-HA!!!"

A four inch thick wooden beam snapped in half like a twig.

Speaker Four: "Hwho-AH!!!"

A practice dummy weighing in excess of three hundred pounds flew through the air and landed in
a heap over twenty feet from where it had been hanging from its frame.  The chain that had
suspended it had been neatly broken in two.

Speaker Four: "HA-HO-HA!!!  HO-HO-HA-HEESSsss . . ."

The fourth speaker remained in the stance where her final strike had left her.  Every muscle in her
body was relaxed.  Her eyes, instead of being focused on one point, took in her entire
surroundings.  Surroundings that were, presently, in a state of total chaos.  Broken wood, stone,
and even some metal littered the ground.  Practice dummies weighing from one hundred to five
hundred pounds were strewn about and piled up against walls like leaves blown about by the
wind.  Speaking of wind, a good description of the state of the room would be that it looked like
a hurricane just went through it.  She stood in the center of this swath of destruction, her
breathing deep and even, but not heavy.  She had been reducing this room to rubble for six hours
without pause, and without slowing down, and was not even winded.  This was the scene that
Cruel, Petey Atrick, and Terrabell looked out upon.

Petey: "Impressive.  She seems to be getting visibly better every day."

Cruel: <The Master's really mad this time.> "Ya, lots better."

Petey Atrick studied his friend for a moment.

Petey: "You don't look so good."

This was true.  Cruel looked like he was about to heave his guts out.

Petey: "It won't be that bad."

Cruel almost laughed at this.

Cruel: "Not that bad . . . Failure to follow a specific directive, however much unintentional, and
you say not that bad.  We are DEAD!!!  We are walking dead men Petey."

Petey: "You're making too much out of this."

Terrabell: "He is right Peter, (Petey flinched at this) It should be quite excruciating."

Not that Terrabell felt any way in particular toward this fact.  It just was and she was stating it as
such, cold and without emotion.

Cruel: "See, even the Ice Princess is scared."

Terrabell: "I do not believe I am feeling something which would resemble fear."

Cruel:(sarcastic) "Well pardon me for forgetting that statues are incapable of fear."

Petey: "There's no need to get personal Cruel."

Cruel: "Why?  This happens to be our last chance."

Petey:(as annoyed as he ever gets) "Cruel, we are not literally going to die.  We're just going to
experience some pain.  Once it begins simply accept it into yourself.  As a part of you it can no
longer harm you and you may occupy your time until it ends with your meditations."

Cruel: "Oh hear ye all the great Master Atrick speak! (He bows to Petey) Master Atrick protect
us!"

Terrabell: "You are acting foolish Cruel."

Cruel: "All the time he's going off about his meditations.  Meditate this, meditate that, all he does
is meditate!"

Petey: "Perhaps if you concentrated more on your own meditations you would not have such a
anxious mind and could find calm."

Cruel:(drawing his sword and placing the tip under Petey's chin) "Maybe if the great future
master spend a little less time meditating and a little more time training with his blade he would be
a better swordsman."

Terrabell's hand grabbed Cruel's sword wrist and wrenched it to Cruel's left.  As his motion
corrected, as is the natural tendency for any living body to do, Terrabell went with it, and used
Cruel's own energy to wrench his arm back, throw him over her hip, and break his wrist all in the
same motion.  He landed several yards away in a heap.

Terrabell:(no humor, or sarcasm in her voice at all) "Perhaps if you spent less time practicing with
your swordsmanship and more time practicing in general THAT wouldn't have happened to you."

Cruel stood up and quickly healed his wrist.

Terrabell: "Practice all skills, so that no skill may best you.  That is what father says."

Cruel stared darkly at Terrabell.

Cruel: "Well aren't we daddy's little girl."

In his anger Cruel had forgotten that Terrabell didn't react to insults, mostly because Terrabell
didn't react to most anything.  He had also forgotten that, for all her claims of emotionlessness,
Terrabell had an inherent mean streak.  She walked over to him, then turned her head and looked
at the young Ninja Crow on the practice floor, where she was performing a Tia-Chi form to
perfection.

Terrabell:(to the young ninja) "You should do some practicing with a live opponent.  Cruel has
volunteered."

With that she took hold of his shoulder and performed an over the hip throw, casting him out
through space over the practice floor.

Cruel:(afraid) "NO!!!  WAIT!!!"

(chrash, clang, pow, thud, snap, crack, thud, bap, pow, pow, pow, oof, thud, clang, crash . . . .
thud)

Terrabell stood with her arms crossed, watching the absolute slaughter.  Petey came over and
stood at her right side, slightly back, almost standing behind her.

Terrabell: "You know Peter, (he flinched) I believe I am feeling something that resembles
satisfaction at the moment."

Petey: "That wasn't very nice.  You know he doesn't . . . (he steps left and she steps right to
avoid a large piece of six by six wooden beam that hurtled through where they had been standing)
. . . He doesn't stand a chance against her."

Terrabell: "He is a weak, arrogant, and pathetic fool.  Perhaps this will at least cure him of his
arrogance."

Petey: "He's not as bad as all of that."

Terrabell: "You are right.  He is also a coward.  He was driven to the point of near panic by the
prospect of mere physical pain."

Petey: "It is natural to wish to avoid pain whenever possible."

Terrabell turned and walked up to Petey.  He was an inch or so shorter than her, so he had to
look up slightly to meet her eyes.  She came close to him, so close that they nearly touched.  Her
beak was less than an inch from his own.

Terrabell: "Peter, you are dedicated, dilligent, and have never shown cowardice or fear in any
form in all the years I have known you.  (A particularly loud thud from Cruel hitting a wall
resounded through the air) Indeed you seem to be impervious to nearly all human faults, more so
than any other person I have ever met.  You are somewhat detached from this meaningless world
of emotion and impulse that the majority of people, Cruel included, are foolish enough to exist
within.  And yet you are not fully detached."

She drew even closer.  He could feel the slight wind of her breath.  He could actually feel the heat
from her body, mere fractions of an inch from his own but seemingly a chasm as he perceived it.

Terrabell: (in a whisper) "You see Peter Atrick, I know that you are not without failings."

She moved her head to the side of his, and placed her mouth next to his ear.

Terrabell: (even quieter) "You have your own . . . faults . . . Peter Atrick."

With that she gave him a long kiss on his cheek, met his eye, then turned on her heel and left the
room.  This was what really hurt Petey.  This is what stabbed him at his core.  She knew.  She
knew exactly how he felt about her.  She had known since before Petey could remember.  And the
very same love that he felt for her was the very reason that she despised him.  His need for her
respect was the very reason that she did not respect him.  His desire for her affection was the very
reason that she felt no affection toward him.  His yearning for her love . . . Well, perhaps it was as
Cruel said and she simply did not love or could not love.  To her he was a person of great
potential, who only needed to be shown the error of his ways.  To her she was showing him the
way to the correct path each time she hurt him.  So she never missed an opportunity to twist the
knife a little deeper.

CRACK!!!

Cruel: "AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHH!!!"

Petey was awakened from his melancholy by what could only be described as a blood curdling
scream.  He turned to the practice floor and received a bit of a shock.

Petey: <Woah!!> "Woah!!"

He walked out to one of the support beams that rose from the floor to the ceiling.  The young
ninja was standing next to it.  Cruel was tied around it, not to it, around it.  His abdomen was in a
square knot.

Young Ninja: (worried) "I didn't hurt him did I?"

Petey: "No, he's . . . fine."

Cruel: (under his breath) "Like hell I'm fine, I'm tied around a damn post."

Petey: "What was that?"

Cruel: "Just untie me Atrick."