V for Vaunty

She strutted down the brightly lit corridor, hand on her hip. Smirking at her fans, who were lined up along the corridor, she waved a perfectly manicured hand. Her long, shiny, black  hair cascaded down her shoulders in perfectly spaced out waves and her bright, green eyes had the look of triumph that most popular girls' eyes had. 

In some ways, Nicole wished she could be more like Jenni Howard. The most popular girl in the school, Jenni had won over a fifty medals and cups for the school in various competitions. She was always nice and sweet to her friends and well-behaved to her teachers. She was well dressed and had a great fashion sense.

However, there were some disadvantages to being Jenni Howard. She was only nice and sweet to her friends, for example. She had been quite mean to a few of Nicole's friends more than once and bullied the younger kids by calling them tiny and silly.

Nicole stepped out of her place in the neatly organized line, and assumed a position in the middle of the corridor, blocking kids going to their classes. Blocking Jenni. As Jenni and her sidekicks approached, Jenni stopped smirking and began to frown instead.

"Hey, get out of the way. We're going to our classes, can't you see?" Jenni said loudly.

"Yeah, I can see quite clearly, thanks. Um, Mrs. Johnson asked for your chart. She wanted to, uh, exhibit it in the Science exhibition," Nicole said with a smug smile,"but I can see that you don't want to, ahem, so never mind."

Saying so she stepped back to the side of the corridor.

"Um…" Jenni replied, clearly thinking hard. "You can't just block students going to their classes, you know? But, just this once I'll forgive you and give you what you want."

Jenni handed over a bright pink chart with information written on it with a gold metallic pen. Nicole looked at it for a second and then gave a disdainful look at Jenni. 

"Huh. Well, okay. I'm not sure Mrs. Johnson'll be too happy with it but never mind, we'll see, okay?" she said jeeringly.

"Okay, yeah, whatever," Jenni muttered, looking furious.

Nicole turned around and began walking down the corridor. One step higher with Project: Disbanding Popular Girl. 

U for Unalterable

"Vicki Owen! Please come and seat yourself inside the waiting room," a loud, foreboding voice called out from behind the dull, grey colored door.

Vicki got up with a breathy little sigh and started to walk to the door. She tried opening it in vain and then stood aside for somebody else to open it instead. She took the hand of the man who had just opened it and trotted inside with a determined look.

As soon as she had gotten inside, she flashed a smile at every single person in the room, making sure that everybody could see her, and pointed at a scruffy little boy, who was snuffling into his teddy bear. He immediately sat up, his back straight and his teddy bear forgotten. 

She pointed to the floor and he got off the chair, looking disappointed. Nobody murmured when she clambered up onto the chair and then pointed to the floor again. The boy sat on the floor and began to suck his thumb.

Her family always said that she had a way of making people listen to her. It was a shame that she could never make them listen to her. They were, sadly, immune to her charms.

"Papa!" Vicki called, with a grim look on her face, her usually twinkling grey eyes stern.

"Yes, darling?" the man she had walked in with asked.

"Papa, do I have to go? It's not compolusery, is it?" she asked with the all the charms of a four year old girl.

"Yes, sweetie, you do," her father replied, running a hand through his shiny red hair.

She began to sulk and stared straight ahead at a new door, with a shiny gold handle. She liked that handle. Perhaps she would ask her father for one. 

"Vicki Owen! Please come in!" the foreboding voice called from inside.

She got up and smoothed down the folds of her dress. Her carefree childhood was over. The future was unalterable. She would have to go to school.

T for Temptation

Shirley stood in front of the big, red signboard in her oversized purple jacket. She sighed, as if to indicate that the impossible would never happen,and rotated so that her back was facing the signboard, but then turned back around. Perhaps just once, for the last time… what could happen? 

Thinking so, she entered Pizza Hut with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. She confidently walked straight to the counter, her curly brown hair bouncing up and down.

"Hello, Ms. Hawks! What can we get for you today?" the friendly counter lady asked.

"Oh, please, Naomi! You know me too well to call me Ms. Hawks anymore! It's Shirley! Anyways, I think I'll have a Hawaiian, small please! Make sure there's enough pineapple, eh?" Shirley replied, hands clenched into fists with the thought of a delicious, cheesy pizza with the best toppings that were invented. "How much is it?"

"$10.90, please,Ms. Haw-Shirley!" Naomi replied, grinning.

Shirley handed over a ten dollar note with a few coins and asked in anticipation,

"How much time will it take?"

"Around ten minutes, Shirley, just wait for a bit, okay?" Naomi said. "You can sit down and wait till then, okay?"

Shirley nodded and slowly walked to one of the tables in the corner and sat down.

In around ten minutes, just as Naomi had said, the pizza arrived. Shirley waved away the waiter and stared in delight at the beautiful pizza. She immediately tore away a slice, disregarding the heat, and bit into it.  

Ah, the thick, tangy cheese, the sweet, golden pineapple, the succulent ham…all of them seemed to hit her like a blow to her stomach. Delicious….

She finished in two minutes flat and, pushing out her chair, ran out of the restaurant.

As soon as she got outside, a hand landed on her shoulder. She swiveled around, to find a middle aged man with an untidy mop of black hair and a very cross face.

"Shirley! You are not supposed to be spending your precious pocket money on buying a pizza from one of the unhealthiest places in the country, and you know that! What did you think you were doing?" he said loudly and angrily.

Prising his big hands off her shoulder with her considerably smaller ones, she looked up at him and made a sad face, with her eyes wide open.

"What can I say, Papa? It was temptation, that was all!"

S for Scopophobia

"Candy! Sweetie, the guests are here! Come on out, quickly!" my mother shouted from the living room of my two floored house.

I clattered down the stairs as fast as I could and ran into the living room to confront my mother and the undoubtedly boring guests.

"Candy, this is my college mate from almost twenty years back. We've somehow managed to keep in touch," my mother said, with her arm around the stranger,"and I'm very glad we did! She was an amazing friend!"

"Hm, really?" I replied, raising my eyebrows and trying to look interested.

But my attention was on the tall girl behind my mother's friend. She looked very shy, and kept her gaze on the vase of flowers on the living room table.

"Candace, this is my daughter, Harriet, Harriet Mendoza. She's your age," my mother's friend said, noticing my curious expression.

Presuming her surname from what she had just said, I looked at her and smiled the most charming smile I could produce.

"Mrs.Mendoza, how about you and Mom go and chat for a little time? I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on, so you could just leave me and Harriet for a short while, to get to know each other," I said, making my voice as persuasive as I could.

"What a brilliant idea, Candy! We'll go, then," my mother said, taking a rather doubtful looking Mrs. Mendoza by the hand and dragging her out of the room, looking relieved.

As soon as I was sure they had gone, I turned around and smiled at Harriet.

"Hi, I'm Candace, as I'm sure you already know, but everyone calls me Candy 'cause I really love lollipops! Yeah, I know lollipops are for kids and all, supposedly, but I totally adore them!" I exclaimed, trying not to overwhelm her with my excitement to have a girl my age to talk to. "Please do have a seat!"

"Hi, I'm Harriet, and everyone calls me Harriet because I don't really have any special interests, I suppose," Harriet replied, tucking her blonde fringe behind her ear, and sitting down, looking terrified.

"Hey, are you okay? You look a little worried. Is everything okay?" I asked, thinking what an understatement that was.

"Uh, nothing," Harriet replied, her blue eyes wide and scared, still keeping her gaze on the flower vase.

"Okay…anyways, you said that you, um, didn't have any interests, yeah? I'm sure you do. Just you wait, I'll come up with a nickname for you in no time!" I said enthusiastically. "Let's see…do you like sports?"

"Well, they're okay, I guess," Harriet replied, her voice the opposite of mine.

"Art?"

"No."

"Reading, maybe?"

"Definitely not."

The conversation continued for a while like this, with Harriet's monosyllabic, flat-voiced answers and her apparent fascination with the flower vase until I gave up. She looked so petrified, with sweat shining across her brow, that I grew sick of trying to have conversation with her.

"Maybe you'd like a choco chip cookie?" I asked, making a valiant attempt at breaking the awkward silence.

"No, it's fine," Harriet said, her voice suddenly become high-pitched.

I blushed with a sudden thought. Was it me that was making her feel uncomfortable? Was I scaring her in some way? I looked at the flower vase as well and decided to lengthen the silence.

In a few minutes, my mother and Mrs. Mendoza reentered the room.

"We'll have to go now, Candace. Sorry we're leaving so early," Mrs. Mendoza said, looking cheery.

She walked out the front door, beckoning to Harriet. Harriet clumsily stood up and jogged after her mother. My mother followed them, smiling rather nervously.

As soon as they had all got out of the front door, Mrs. Mendoza said in a most un-cheery voice,

"Betty, I hope your daughter realized that Harriet is not comfortable to talk to strangers. She suffers from scopophobia and I hope that Candace did not try to make unnecessary conversation!"

"Candy!!!!"

Uh-oh.

R for Ricochet

Charlie knew that she should have never let her daughter talk her into it. Why had she agreed to do something she was completely inexperienced at? Why had she agreed when she knew that she would make a fool of herself? Why????

"Hey, Mom, we're supposed to wait over there, at the drinks' stand. Come on, let's go over," Olivia Sanders told her mother, looking a little puzzled at her mother's horrified expression.

"Ollie, I can't do this. I'm just a beginner at badminton; we're gonna lose, sweetie," she replied, feeling guilty as she imagined her daughter's disappointed face.

It never came. Her daughter gave her the Look and sighed.

"Really, Mom? Really?" her daughter said in a disgusted tone.

Those three words shut her up. She was not going to disappoint her daughter. She was going to try her best and win the tournament, making her daughter proud somehow.

"Alright, come on, then. Let's go over, okay?" Charlie said resignedly and led the way to the waiting area.

As soon as she reached, she spotted a sign which stated all of the team members' names and in which order they were going to play. She looked for her and her daughter's opponents and groaned. 

"Ollie! We're against Violet and Vanessa Cooper! Violet's been training in badminton for way longer than I have! We have no chance against them!" she gasped out, shaking her head.

"Mom! Mom, calm down! Nobody stands a chance against the Sanders' ferocity, okay? Mrs.Cooper's backhand shots are really weak so you need to go for her left side. Meanwhile, Vanessa is horrible at moving around the court and stuff, so when you hit a shot to her, place the shuttlecock really well. Every opponent has a weakness, Mom," Olivia replied, sounding amused.

Charlie was just about to answer when an announcement rang out, echoing around the huge, air-conditioned, indoor court.

"Charlotte and Olivia Sanders against Violet and Vanessa Cooper! Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the first match of the day!" 

Charlie grabbed Olivia with her free hand and walked to the court, feeling very trembly inside. 

"Hey, Charlie! Hey, Ollie! Good luck, guys!" Mrs.Cooper called out from the other side of the court.

And then she served.

As the game progressed, Charlie stopped feeling nervous. Badminton was her thing! She wasn't going to lose in the game she loved! Ten minutes passed and the audience were at a standstill. The score was 20-19 and it was her turn to serve. She swung the racket and it hit the shuttlecock. It flew in a wide arc…reached Vanessa…got hit back…to her left side.

She closed her eyes and held out her racket, hoping that the shuttlecock would just ricochet back. Five, four, three, two, one…ping! As she heard the sound of the shuttlecock hitting her racket, her eyes flew open.

Vanessa leaped forward to try to hit it back…and missed. Charlie put on a sympathetic face and shook their opponents' hands along with Olivia but as soon as they turned away she grabbed her daughter into a bear hug.

"Nobody can match the Sanders' ferocity, eh, Ollie?" she said, ruffling her daughter's hair.

Her daughter rolled her eyes and said,"We still have three more matches to go,Mom,"

Could somebody please remind her why she was doing this?

Q for Quean

"No, Mommy! I am not going for my piano exam and that is that! Unless you wish to drag me out and create a scene, I am not coming! How dare you sign me up for it without telling me! How dare you!" said Rosabelle Diane Hope, stamping her foot on the floor and shaking her head at her mother, Annabella Hope, a gentle woman who certainly did not deserve this little bundle of terror to torment her forever.

"Please, dear, come for your exam. I have paid quite a lot of money just so that you could do this, you know? And I have reminded you, multiple times, that your exam was coming up. Besides, your teacher says that you are coming along marvelously so there is really no need to worry, darling," Mrs.Hope replied, looking at the Rolls Royce parked outside there front gate a little nervously,"and please come quickly, the driver will leave any moment."

Rosabelle sighed at her mother's apparent stupidity and turned around, as if to walk back into the house. 

"Rose! Rose, please! You have to come! Must I call your father to come back home from work early? He will not be pleased, will he now?" Mrs.Hope said, her voice getting very high and worried.

"Really, Mommy? I am not coming. I do not care whether Daddy is upset or not, but I am not coming!!!!!" Rosabelle exclaimed with another stamp. "I would prefer to go back inside!"

At this point of this argument, the driver had gotten out of the car to see what was going on.  Mark Simmons, a simple, honest man had gone through the trials of raising a fussy little girl and was quite experienced with this sort of thing. He walked up to the front door and smiled at the pair. 

"Hello, Mrs.Hope, and hello, little miss! Why's this takin' so much time, then, hmm?" he asked cheerily, looking mainly at Rosabelle.

"Hello, Mr. Simmons. Please mind your own business," Rosabelle said crisply to him and looked back at her mother to continue the argument.

"Hey, hey, hey, little miss. Calm down, now. Alright, as far as I can see, you're refusing to go for your piano exam, am I right?" Mark replied as sternly as he could.

Rosabelle hesitantly nodded at him, looking confused.

"Okay…fine! You can stay here while your mother goes and does your piano exam for you! She'll probably get more marks than you anyway! Yeah, 'cause she's got way more common sense than you, little miss!" he said triumphantly.

Rosabelle looked at him, amazed. And then she turned around and looked at her mother. 

"What rubbish is he talking about, Mommy?!" she asked indignantly.

"Well, dear, perhaps it does make sense. I mean, you are adamant about not coming, right?"

Saying so, Mrs. Hope turned around and began to walk toward the car. Mark followed her, a smug smile on his face. Rosabelle looked after them for a moment, gaped, and then ran after them after making sure that she had her bag slung over her shoulder.

She overtook them, opened the car door, and slid inside, a resigned expression on her face.

"A bit of a quean, ain't she, ma'am?" Mark muttered into Mrs.Hope's ear, grinning.

Mrs.Hope looked at him with an expression similar to Rosabelle's and got into the car next to her daughter. 

P for Passionate

"C'mon, boys! All hands on deck! Quickly, now, before the storm gets worse, eh?" shouted Aaron Quinn, very slightly struggling to keep his balance on the slippery, rocking surface he was standing on.

A group of approximately ten men came running onto the deck of the large lifeboat, wearing bright yellow plastic coats which stood out in the dreary, grey background.

"What's up,Mr.Quinn, sir? Is something wrong or what?" said Peter Ashford, one of the few teenagers  on the island who actually wanted to do something about the people needing help at sea. "Have you found something, then?"

"Listen, Ashford. I've been doing this almost my whole life and guess what? I have never just found something without looking for it," the ship's captain replied crisply,"I want to get this done fast. I've put my second-in-command at the ship's controls but he can't manage for long so I need to say some stuff. Important stuff."

Here he paused and looked around at the earnest faces around him. He smiled in pride, observing their strong and determined posture. These men were good men and they would most probably change the world and make it better, starting from rescuing people at sea.

"All of you lot have come here and chosen to be part of the island's rescue team because you've got passion! Every single one of you is passionate about helping people, I bet! As a matter o'fact, I bet it's one of your most favorite things in the world, innit?! Now come on, we're gonna save those people and we're gonna save them today!"

All of the team cheered, many of them patting the people standing next to them on the back. The next moment, a huge wave hit the boat, causing all of them to lurch sideways.

"Oi, enough of the sentimental catch-up! Brace yourselves!" Aaron shouted, alarmed at the size of the wave. "This storm's only gonna get worse-"

Another wave slammed the boat, the force of it so strong that it caused him to slip and fall onto the deck, putting most of the force on his hands and jarring them. A pair of strong hands pulled him up again and he turned around to find Peter. He nodded at him and wordlessly gestured at the wheelhouse, where the binoculars were.

Both of them began running towards the wheelhouse. Fear made them run faster and in around thirty seconds, they were wrenching the door open. Looking through the binoculars, Aaron ran a hand through his grey hair and groaned.

"I'm seeing something orange out there, Ashford. Tell me it's not a dinghy, please," he said softly, his voice cracking.

Peter picked up the binoculars and looked through them. Then he turned towards Aaron, his face grey.

"It is a dinghy, sir. And it's got four people on it. It's got kids on it!" Peter replied, looking like his life had just become twice as difficult, which it probably had as a matter of fact.

Aaron shook his head, but deciding to try rescuing them anyway, he ran to the back of the wheelhouse and picked up a rope and a few flashlights. He tossed Peter a rope and a flashlight as well and ran back outside.

"Listen up, y'all! Keep the boat under control, alright? We've spotted the missing family out there and we're gonna get them into the boat!" Aaron yelled as loudly as he could and walked to the edge of the deck, trying to keep his balance, and peered over the railing.

"Sir!? Please get us outa here quick! We can't hang onto the boat much longer!" one of the children, a teenage boy with dark hair, shouted to him.

The dinghy was just below the lifeboat now and it would have been fairly easy to maneuver them into the boat with the help of two ropes; if not for the weather. Peter unravelled the rope and let it down along the side of the boat. The youngest of the family, a small girl who couldn't had been more than seven, desperately clutched at the rope. She screamed as the dinghy rocked violently but managed to hang onto the rope and get a good grip on it.

Peter gradually pulled her up until she could clutch the railing of the boat and Aaron helped her onto the deck and shouted for one of the crew to get her below deck. They repeated this procedure for the rest of the family, with a little difficulty, and managed to get them all onto the boat. 

Aaron looked at Peter, dropped the rope onto the floor, and roughly tackled him into a hug.

"Life can't get any more difficult, mate," he said jovially into his neck.

O for Od

"Jonathan Anderson! Come here this instant!" Chloe screamed, surveying the scene before her.

There were open pizza boxes on the living room table, the sofa had greasy marks on it, there were three broken glasses on the floor, and the tablecloth of the dining table was stained.

"Yeah, Mom? What's up?" a teenage boy asked, coming into the living room and rubbing his eyes.

"I've told you multiple times that you must not have parties with your friends in the living room! In our living room! How dare you! I thought I could trust you and you disappoint me like this, hm?" she asked, her face turning redder every second.

"I…well…I thought that it would be okay to just do it for one night, Mom? C'mon, it's not that bad, is it…" he said, trailing off as he observed the mess in the room.

"Well, young man, I have had just about enough of this! You must make an od, which means an oath to never again have a party in this house again, specially since I will not be there tomorrow night, okay?" she briskly said with a flourish of her hand.

"Um, okay…" her son replied hesitantly, looking at the ground for some kind of some inspiration for this magnificent 'od'.

"Repeat after me," Chloe said,"I will never again have a party in this house again and betray my mother's trust. I will, in other words, be a good boy."

"I will never again have a party in this house and betray my mother's trust in other words I will be a good boy," Jonathan hurriedly said, "now may I leave?"

Without waiting for an answer, he bounded up the stairs two at a time and began to wrestle with his faulty door handle. Wrenching it open, he grabbed the telephone which was on his desk and dialed a number, his fingers moving like lightning. When he heard the beep which meant that it had been answered, he spoke into it with a smile,

"Hey, bro! My mom's not gonna be there tomorrow night! Tell the team to meet me tomorrow night, okay? Pizza, yo!"

N for Nymphology

She sat in the shade of the huge oak tree, dreamily looking into her reflection in the stream which was just beside the tree. The wind brushed against her cheek, and the leaves seemed to chuckle in contentment when, suddenly, a big leaf floated down and settled itself onto her reflection.

"I know you're doing that on purpose!" she said indignantly, flipping her fringe off her eyes. 
"I don't always look at my reflection!"

The tree behind her gave out a strange sigh and shuddered, before a beautiful apparition stepped out of it. The seemingly magical lady giggled and smoothed her hair down before beginning to talk.

"Oh, Nancy! You are getting quite conceited, you know! Remember, you vowed to protect us, not sit around in the shade of our trees and smile like a foolish, self-obsessed girl!" she said, with a breathy little cough.

Nancy rolled her green eyes and stood up, putting her hands on her hips.

"Nobody even comes here, Oak! I mean, in the 21st century, people are more interested in technology and parties and stuff than having a nice, sunny day in the woods! There's literally no point of me being here in the first place!" she huffed out.

The nymph smiled with a twinkle in her eyes. 

"Alright, then! You can stop coming here," she said smugly.

"Fine then, I will!" Nancy shouted back, turning around and beginning to walk back to the city.

The nymph looked at the retreating back of the girl and softly groaned. Why did she always have to tease them so much that they got fed up of her? Why?

Nancy sneakily looked back, saw the nymph's face and froze. That look of disappointment was more than she could bear. Chuckling, she abruptly changed her mind and started to jog back to the oak tree. Nymphology, indeed.

M for Monotonous

Sophia opened her bedroom door, plonked herself down on her bed and sighed exasperatedly. Life was so boring! It was so boring that she could predict exactly what was going to happen in just a little less than a minute. Mum was going to call to her and say that she had just realized that she had got back from school and tell her to freshen up and change for dinner.

"Sophie! I just realized that you got back from school! Freshen up and change, dear!" a voice called from downstairs.

"Mm, yeah, Mum, give me two minutes," Sophie said with a triumphant smile.

She opened her wardrobe and put her head in, waiting for her younger sister to fling open the door and scream that she had lost her teddy bear. Five, four, three, two, one…

"Sophie! I lost my teddy bear!" screamed Emma, bursting through the door.

"Huh, surprise there, Em. Let's see, every single day, you play with your teddy bear under my bed and then forget him there when Mum calls you for lunch. Maybe it's there?" Sophie asked her sarcastically,"now, get out, I need to change."

Emma made a face at her and ran out. Sophie pulled open her wardrobe again. Most probably, the first outfit which was going to come out of it was her Hamburg Hoodie and a pair of tights, which was a combination she'd worn at least fifteen times already.

She dressed up in her hoodie and tights and went downstairs and seated herself at the dinner table. Now her father was going to come in through the front door, holding his messenger bag, and jovially announce that work had been amazing and ask her how school was. So monotonous. Wait for it… wait for it…

Her father came in through the door. Check. Messenger bag. Check. Jovial smile. Check.
Boring, boring, so boring! Then, he set his bag down on the dinner table and took out a tiny box. 

"Sophia, guess what? We got you a new phone!!" he exclaimed.

For a second, she was speechless. And then she squealed.

L for Leopon

The noisy group of schoolchildren clustered around the final cage of their field trip to the zoo. Rhoda Samuel, their guide, looked around, smiled a large, fake smile and then began her explanation of the animal in the cage.

"So, children, this is quite a rare animal, so please be quiet as we have not yet figured out what does and does not irritate it. It is a- yes, child?"

At this time, the class nerd, Jeanne Evans, had raised her hand.

"Please, miss, how much time has the zoo had this animal?"

"A few months now, dear, why?" Rhoda said coolly.

"Well, since a few months is equivalent to at least ninety days, surely you should now know the animal's behavior, specially if the animal is a cross breed!" Jeanne said indignantly, "really, this behavior is quite disgraceful! I mean, if you-"

"Thank you very much for that summary, dear, though it was most unnecessary," Rhoda cut in, looking a little embarrassed,"but, yes, the animal is a cross breed. It is a cross between a leopard and a lion! Anyone knows what it's called?"

"Um, yeah, duh! It's called a leopon! And FYI, it's really cruel to animals to raise them in captivity and then create new breeds for stupid experiments!" Jeanne said loudly without waiting for Rhoda to choose her. 

"Yes, correct," said the guide, looking quite flustered now and deciding to ignore the rest of Jeanne's comments," the leopon is a hybrid which results from the crossing of a male leopard and a lioness. Any questions?"

Nobody raised their hand. In fact, most of the school group were sighing, looking bored.

"Alright, then, presenting to you… the leopon!" Rhoda said brightly, pointing to the cage behind her.

At first glance, the cage only seemed to contain a small cave, a stream and grass. However, if you looked closely, you would notice a lump of brown and yellow spots at the entrance of the cave. Suddenly, a roar came from the leopon.

Rhoda looked around the school group. To her delight, many of them seemed impressed, and some even scared! This was going to be very funny.

The leopon suddenly leaped up in a most un-animal-like fashion and ran to the cage door on it's fours. It scratched at the bars and growled, sounding a little strange. Now most of the group had backed off from the cage, terrified.

"All visitors, please exit the zoo immediately. The zoo will be closing in a few minutes" an announcement suddenly cut through the group's whimpers and moans.

All of the students started walking as fast as they could towards the zoo gates. As soon as Rhoda was sure they were gone, she sighed in relief. That was one difficult school group!

"That was difficult, wasn't it, Rhodes?" asked a voice from the cage.

Rhoda turned around and smiled at the small, balding man inside the cage, who was taking off the large, fake leopon head.

"I'll say, Mike! The good thing is that we got them fooled, didn't we? They actually believe that there's a leopon at our small zoo!"

K for Kudos

Amelia trudged along the snow-covered path, pulling her jacket securely around her. Her blonde hair was whipped around by the harsh wind and the leather handbag slung over her shoulder was being swung from side to side. She walked without missing a step, even when a stray cat suddenly leaped across her path.

"Hello, Ms. Adams! How're you doing on this fine, frosty day?" the man she was passing at that moment asked.

She stopped and squinted at his face through the snow falling in front of her and then smiled her usual warm, friendly smile.

"As well as I could be doing on a day as dreary as this one, Michael! Thankfully, work ended early, eh? And please, it's Amelia, not Ms. Adams!" she said, trying not to sound as miserable as she felt.

"Yeah, work ended early for me too. Sorry, I got to go now, Lara'll be waiting for me. If I'm late for dinner one more time I have no idea what she will do!" he replied cheerfully and waving goodbye, he turned around and walked away.

She waved back and continued to walk, recalling the scene that had occurred in her office just that morning. Work ending early, her foot! One of the younger employees had submitted an article late and her boss immediately began to yell at her. After waiting for about a few minutes, she had begun to defend her colleague. She had screamed at the manager quite a bit, actually. It had resulted in her getting fired.

Reaching her apartment block, she put her hand in her handbag, fumbling for her residential card. Where was it? She knew it was somewhere there! After searching for it for about two minutes, she decided to call security and ask them to let her in instead.

"Hello! 0404 please!" she crisply said into the intercom, after pressing the green button.

The door swung open. She stepped into the lobby of the building and got into the elevator, which was thankfully at the bottom floor. After getting out and reaching her doorstep she looked around to make sure nobody was spying on her and pulled open the door, which seemed to have lost the ability to lock itself. Since nothing ever got fixed at Block 65, she had decided to leave it unlocked.

Freshening up and changing into her comfortable nightgown, she settled herself onto the sofa for the most depressing part of the day; looking at the album. Turning to the first page, she readied her mind for a reminiscing session. Ah, there was the first medal she's ever got in gymnastics, a silver for the United states. She had been happy then, hanging out with friends. Life was a roller coaster, she would say, just sit back and enjoy it wherever it takes you. 

Looking at several more silvers and a limited amount of golds and bronzes she smiled sarcastically. 

Look where the roller-coaster has taken you now, she thought contemptuously, in a dump of an apartment with a bunch of people thinking you're a fool. And what do these medals mean, eh? Kudos from the past, that's all they are. They aren't going to help you in any way.

Closing the album with a sharp click, she made a wry face. Her life didn't have any glory or happiness in it. All it had were an alarming amount in electricity and water bills, no parties or relaxation and quite a lot of stress.

"Useless kudos," she said angrily.

J for Jejune

She was beautiful. Her slim, tapered fingers seemed to dance over the keys of the piano and she was smiling like an angel. The black, polished bench upon which she sat matched her shiny black patent shoes which kept holding down on the gleaming golden paddles below her instrument. Skills…

Angela Simpson led quite a difficult life. Fending for her son, daughter and herself all at the same time was quite a struggle but she managed it. The song she had been practicing for this concert however, was special. It had a melancholy tune at the start, with a build up to a fast, lively one which made people want to clap along to the beat and you had to actually feel it to make the audience actually relate to the song.

Her simple, flowered dress was pink and yellow, and she had a matching sparkly clutcher in her hair. Ah… her hair. It was done up in a chic ponytail which made her look even more elegant as usual…

She finished the song with a flourish.  Slowly turning around to a silent audience, she glanced around the audience uncertainly. Looking at their faces, she suddenly felt a slight sense of triumph. Many of the people were looking at her with tears in their eyes, dabbing at them with their handkerchiefs. She got up off her seat, feeling like crying herself. She had worked so hard to perfect her technique and finally, she was experiencing the sweet sense of victory.

She was standing up now, looking a little like she was going to cry. She ran a hand through her hair and smiled, looking just beautiful. She was unreachable, to a jejune boy such as himself…

"I would like to dedicate this song to my son, who suffers from learning difficulties and has been one of my main inspirations. He struggles on day after day and yet is so brave. To my son, Jack Simpson!"

She was coming towards him now, reaching out for him, crying into his hair! What was happening? Why was she doing this, this unknown beauty? And then he remembered.

"Oh, Jackie! I love you so much!" she snuffled, sounding much younger than she actually was.
"Mom?" he asked, in a surprisingly deep voice.
She squealed in joy and tears spurted out of her eyes.
"That's the first word my baby's spoken!"

I for Insatiable

"And, finally, to our most generous benefactor, Mr. Andrew Dawson!"

Andrew smiled benevolently at the crowd of people gathered before him and straightened his tie. He slowly got up from his seat on the stage and waved to the crowd. As he walked to the announcer, Mr Jeremiah Fox, he gestured politely at the crowd to stop clapping. Taking the mike from the announcer, he pushed his spectacles up his nose.

"My dear audience, please, do not give all the credit to me. I have been helped along the way by so many people, to whom I am very grateful to and would like to thank when I am giving this speech of mine. First, Mr Jeremiah Fox himself, who has helped me so much along the way. A big round of applause to him!" Andrew said loudly, shaking Mr. Fox's hand.

Yes, Jerry had helped him a lot indeed…with a tiny bit of persuasion of course. After all, could he say no when Andrew and a few of his goons had stormed his posh mansion with the news that they had kidnapped his wife and teenage daughter and would keep them hostage until he 'helped' them?

"The next person I would like to thank is obviously my business partner, Noah Watson. He has supported me so much ever since I have started my career, provided me with so much advice about my job which has helped me to improve my business skills quite a bit," he cheerfully announced, "sadly, he is not present here."

Ah, Noah. His faithful business partner was currently locked up in his office; a few of his thugs were guarding him with the help of some top quality guns and a few sharp knives, if things got too out of hand. He had supplied him with quite a lot of useful information about bank vaults, pass codes, and locations of important jewelry stores.

"So that is the end of my short speech. Sorry about it," he loudly proclaimed as the audience began to boo, "but I'm not too good at this sort of thing. Handing the mike over to Jerry, he stayed in his position.

"Thank you, Mr. Dawson! Now, our company would like to award you with a certificate of appreciation and a trophy of thanks," Jerry said, looking uncomfortably at the 'generous benefactor'.

Andrew stepped forward and accepted his award, while turning his back to the vast audience, who were eagerly looking at him to view this grand prize. Looking down at the stack of dollar bills being pawed over to him, he curled his lip in distaste; his insatiable greed for money would never be satisfied.

"Really, Jerry? Just this much? I'll be expecting at least one mil' more from you. Or else, I can always just take a few of your loved ones hostage again," he muttered coldly into Jerry's ear. 

Facing the audience again and looking around the magnificent auditorium for what was probably the last time, he confidently announced with a rather strange smile,
"Thank you all for coming! Thank you! I hope you didn't regret it!"

And then, with a stream of fire and smoke, a bomb exploded in the midst of the audience.

H for Hawkshaw

"Mr.Williams? The press is waiting outside and by the look of it, you'll have to answer some questions if we want to get to the car."

Peering out of the window of the jewelry store, Ross Williams saw the huge crowd of people gathered outside. There were at least fifteen journalists clustered around the front door of the store, clamoring for 'the detective who is investigating this case' to come out and give them a summary of his investigation.

"Come on, Dan. We'll have to face them," he said wearily, gesturing to the door.

His faithful assistant, Daniel Rivers, pulled open the door and held it for him, sighing exasperatedly.

Ross stepped outside, shielding his eyes from the camera flashes, dimly aware that he was being followed by Dan.

"Mr.Williams! Please tell us how the investigation is going on!"

"Have you found any clues, any suspects?"

"Do you know where the stolen artifact might be hidden, sir?"

"Ahem, all this information is classified and I will enlighten you when the police see fit to do so," Ross calmly replied, "now, please give way to us, I am quite hungry and would like to go home for my evening meal."

The journalists and photographers reluctantly gave way to him, grumbling loudly. Ross got into his Aston Martin and muttered his destination into his driver's ear, wishing he could block out the noise of grumbling journalists. Dan placed a sympathetic arm onto his arm and softly said,
"Have you got any clues, sir?"

Ross nodded, looking a little doubtful, and took out two objects wrapped in cloth from his messenger bag and placed it on the seat between both of them.

"Not much, but yes, a few. I'm actually quite sure that they don't mean anything."

Pointing to the first object, a thin, fraying piece of blue thread, he said,
"This is almost useless. It could show that the thief was wearing blue, but it could also belong to a customer. Besides, hundreds of people in the city wear blue and we have almost no chance of finding the thief with this."

Carefully tilting the red cloth on which the objects were kept, he slipped another minuscule object off it and smiled ruefully.

"Another object I found on the ground. I was poking around in the glass case where the jewel was kept and found a piece of tarnished silver. Looks like it's meant to be a rose," he guessed, wondering whether the rose was supposed to be one of the store's displays.

"Well,sir, I can tell you something for sure. Those objects mean nothing!" Dan said, disappointed.

Ross leaned against his seat and wondered, not for the first time in his career, why he had decided to be a hawkshaw in the first place.