"So this alchemy thing," Al said, and Ed groaned. They had been sitting at the long table in the main room, which Ed had disdainfully dubbed the library, Al with his laptop open and several books piled around him and Ed with an empty plate that had just recently(more) held a burger. "Have you messed with it at all, since you came back?"
"Nah," Ed licked the crumbs off his fingers. "Too many other things to deal with, hadn't really thought about it. Why?"
His brother was silent for a long moment. Probably lost in his research again, there was a long and involved love story between Al and his battered old laptop.
For once, Ed was even telling the truth about it. The strange ability that he had acquired hadn't passed through his mind once in the past few months - especially after realizing, when trapped in Purgatory, that it simply did not work there. He figured it had been gone for good and promptly forgot about it.
"Well I was doing some research about, well," Al looked up, and then looked around meaningfully. Ed caught the look and nodded his head.
"Yeah, and? What does that have to do with my freaky magic ability that everyone likes to pretend doesn't exist?"
"Well, uh, Dad's name came up." Al tapped a book.
Ed cocked his head curiously. "So? Dad's name comes up often, he was everyfuckingwhere for a while."
"Ed, Dad's name came up in the founding records."
He processed this for a moment. "So, wait, this organization isn't as old and hoary as we thought?"
"Quite the opposite," Al sighed. "The founding records are almost three hundred years old."
"Oh, hell," Ed groaned. "What are the odds that it's just someone with the same admittedly-esoteric-sounding name?"
"What an unusual name!" Said the barber as he snapped the bib for his next customer. "How exactly do you pronounce it?"
"Uh - xxxxxxx - but the last x is silent." The customer blushed.
"OH! Wow that IS a mouthful. How about I just call you(more) Fred?"
It was always the same damn question. How do you pronounce your name? It had only taken him the first 7 years of his life to finally begin to wrap his own tongue around it.
Why did he have to be from Latvia anyway? Why couldn't he have a simple name like Vasily or Mikhail? Simple, strong, easy on the ears.
"Ah well," he thought. "Guess it's just something I'll have to deal with... or IS IT?"
A week later, after one of the worst haircuts of his life, Mr. xxxxxxxxx strolled out of the courthouse a new man. A new man with a new name.
He was so happy with his new name that he decided to treat himself to a nice lunch. Yes, that 50s diner with the cute waitress? "Maybe
with my new identity I can work up the courage to ask her out- yea, that's EXACTLY what I'm going to do!"
After a nice meal, he worked up the courage to talk to her: "Thanks for the great service, miss - say, could I take you to
The waitress paused, and replied softly, "sure, fella - I thought you'd never ask. By the way, what's your name?"
"I'm Randolph Winterbottom - pleased to meet you miss..."
"Oh, well I'm afraid you'd never be able to pronounce it - see, I'm Latvian, I could have SWORN you were too - unfortunately, my father won't let me date
anyone who isn't. Sorry. Have a nice day!"(less)
Mr Hoppaloopalus stared at me in response to my sudden head jerk. It wasn't an angry stare, just one of annoyance and impatience.
(more) "So, as I said, the tour starts at 10AM and will last until late afternoon. You'll be back no later than 4PM." Mr Hoppaloopalus said as he was juggling a bunch fo brochures on paragliding and renting SCUBA equipment.
"I don't know if it's rude, but I just want to comment on how wonderfully unusual it is to go to Wonglepong and be served by Mr. Hopaloopalus. I feel like I'm in a Dr. Seuss book." I commented to Hopaloopalus' disdain.
"I'm glad you find happiness in the situation. Someone has to." he said giving me a fake toothy grin. "Anyway, like I said, the tour will cover all aspects of the surrounding area. From the beach to the coast."
"I'm really do apologize if you find it rude. It's just such an unusual name. What is it, Dutch?"
"I don't fucking know what my name is. My ancestors are fucking British prisoners, like most people here. It could have been a goddamn joke with the guards for all I know or a nickname. Now can we please finish talking about the tour?" he huffed.
"Alright, relax relax. I think it's better just to "Hop"(aloopalus) out of here."
That's when he hit me. I think I deserved it.(less)
"Excuse me!" The new kid said, bouncing on his toes. "I'm new, what's your name?"
"Um, Donnie. Donnie Lewis." Donnie replied, really not feeling up to talking so someone who had a legitimate skip in his step.
The kid freaking /beamed/.
(more) "That's a weird name!" He looked like he was /vibrating/with excitment. "It's like, super weird, that's so cool!"
"It's not that odd." Donnie scooted away slightly, silently cursing his choice of the corner seat.
"Yeah it is!" The kid clapped his hands. "Aw, this is awesome, I never meet anyone with a weird name to hang with."
"I'm not going to hang out with you just to fill out your 'token weird guy' friendship slot!" Donnie snapped. The kid blinked as he back pedalled.
"No no no! You got it wrong, I have a weird name too!" The kid stuck out his hand. "I'm Boyd Walker, and I'm new, and I would really like to have a friend who won't make fun of how silly my name is cause they know what it's like."
Donnie sighed and shook Boyd's hand reluctantly.
"Just..." Donnie rubbed his temple as Boyd clamboured into the seat next to him. "Tone down the chipper for today, I'm not really at my best."
"Okay bud!" Boyd smiled and started whistling, and Donnie thumped his head against the wall.(less)