Ignore this pt 2

[Taryn]

Ignore this post. Another school thing.

It was a dark and stormy night. Ain't it always, though? I mean, if it was bright and sunny out, then no one would want to hear any more of the story. Anyway, on with the show. The group was gathered in the drawing room, waiting for the contents of the Late Mrs. Catacomb's will to be read by her droning, somber lawyer. Let's zoom in on them, shall we? C'mon, it's the audience's prerogative to do this!
Let's start with the nut in the corner. Yes, that's her--the one rocking back and forth singing "This Old Man". Goes by the name Tarynasha. Pretty nice-looking kid, really. She's a Russian orphan who lapses in and out of her accent on a regular basis. Old Lady Catacomb took her in when she was five, and till her recent demise was a very doting mother--aunt--whatever you wanna call her. Let's just say, this little one lost her marbles and got back only three of 'em.
The lawyer in front of the mantle is Alfred. He graduated first in his class from Harvard. He was also probably the first man to ever set foot in those hallowed halls. This guy is old. Smart, but old. He could've been hanging around Leo de Vinci asking for tips on inventions. He's been the family's lawyer for who-knows-how-many-generations, and he's hoping that this time around, he'll be mentioned in the will.
See the guy on the sofa in that hideous, checkered yellow and green Halloween getup? That's Tyson Michelangelo. No, he can't box, and his paintings suck. He's Mrs. Catacomb's brown-nose nephew. You know the kind I mean. The one who's always sucking up so he can get a few bucks off his relatives. Tyson works in a used car dealership, pawning off pieces of junk like they're Rolls Royce's and Mercedes. He's a real schmuck.
Now, check out that hunk in the Lazy Boy recliner. James T. Stonebrook. Successful comic-play write, and all around good-guy. He was Old Lady Catacomb's third cousin, and her only other living blood relative. He always made her laugh when things got bad. But there is always a certain melancholy air about him, as though he'd lost something dear to him. Sometimes he'll get a far off look in his eyes, and you wonder if he's lost in another world.
"Now, then," Alfred cleared his throat, "Let's open the will and jolly well get it over with." But when he opened the envelope, it was empty. "By George! The will isn't here!"
"That's because there isn't one." Whoa! The shadows can speak! A dark, slender figure waltzed into the room. Auburn hair, piercing blue eyes, skin like a ghost's. The tight-fitting black clothes and flowing black cloak completed the picture. Everyone turned around, shocked, but no one is as surprised as James.
"Barbara? I thought you were dead!" He ran and hugged her. "I was dead, Brave heart. Dead to this country. Apparently, I was reported 'missing in action'. And who'd have a hard time believing it? I mean, look at me! What's he doing here?!" She pointed an accusing finger at Tyson.
"Me? You're supposed to be dead!"
"Oh, when I get my hands on you--"
"What about me? Do you like him better than me now?" the comedian whined, attempting to lighten the mood.
"You know what I meant," Barbara said soothingly, "There'll be time for us later. Right now I wanna rip off his little--"
Alfred cleared his throat again,"There's no need for violence, my dear. Now, who are you, and what's this rubbish about there being no will? I assisted Mrs. Catacomb in writing her will."
"And what you didn't know," Barbara continued,"is that she burned it after you left her that evening. She sent me a telegram containing her orders for this occasion." She extracted it from her leather jacket.
"And how did you get it when you were missing in action?" Tyson glared.
"It was sent to my second informant while I was 'out'. She gave it to me as soon as I returned."
"But you still haven't told us who you are, and why Mrs. Catacomb chose you to receive the telegram."
"Let's just say, I'm an agent of sorts. Her right-hand woman. I do her dirty work, I earn her trust. The term 'errand-girl' is only a mild description for my position. I spent my nights working for Catacomb. Eliminating enemies, straightening out screwy 'business' transactions. Ja-- Mr. Stonebrook didn't know any of this until long after I was reported missing. Miss Kitty told him everything when I was presumed dead. But she still believed I was alive, always careful never to underestimate me. So, in the event that I turned up on the door step again, she sent me her true wishes, explaining in them that she had not been in her right mind while the original will had been drawn up. And in case you're wondering how Michelangelo ties in to all this, let's just say, he was my last mission. Show 'em your scars, bub."
"I'd rather not," Tyson squirmed.
"This old man, he played wrong. He'll be dead before too long..." Tarynasha muttered from her corner.
"She always could finish my ballads beautifully," mused Barbara. "But on with the will." She opened the telegram and read aloud.
" Gather here, my dear my dear,
The child and the lawyer,
The jester and the agent
In the confines of the foyer.
The salesman, stay on the stair,
Wait for the clock's last strike.
And when the darkness passes,
Leave be the crystal pike."
"Well," she sighed, "let's go to the foyer."
The troop made its way to the front of the stairs. Tyson seated himself on the stairs as he was told.
"How long must we wait, my cheese queen?" Tarynasha asked sweetly. "Is the clock's last strike at eleven-o-forty-two?"
"She meant midnight," James answered. "That's what she always called 12 a.m. Mrs. Catacomb hated the word midnight."
"And the darkness," mused Alfred,"What, pray tell could she have meant by-"
At that moment, lightening crashed, the lights went out, and all was still. When the lights came on again, all eyes were on Tyson. He was stretched out on the stairs, and in his blood-ridden chest, was a crystal pike.

[Taryn]

Everyone rushed to Tyson's side. Only a spot of life left in him, he could only whisper his last words.
"That face..." he had said in a voice so small, it was barely audible.
"What, What face?" Everyone had said in unison.
"And, That smile, that evil smirk I..." And with that, Tyson was gone. He had been set free of the pain and suffering of the world and had gone to a better place.
When most people die, as I am sure you know, their loved ones cry, and mourn, but this wasn't the case with Tyson. After his death, they put him in the backyard and continued to ponder what he had said. Someone who had an evil smirk had killed him, it could be anyone, and anyone could be next. This long silence was soon broken by Barbara.
"Well, let’s look over the facts. Tyson is dead for three obvious reasons. One, Someone wanted his part in the will, two, Someone actually hates him that much, or three, this is some elaborate plot and we're actually fictious characters thought up by some demented teenagers."
"Oh yeah, I can see it now, there's two giggling teenage girls standing over their computers writing our entire lives. That's likely." Said James in a sarcastic tone.
"Back to the subject, We also know, that someone's a murderer, that Mrs. Catacomb's money is still up for grabs, and we have no idea what we're to do now."
Tarynasha who had been huddling in the corner suddenly perked up. She noticed that the group had started talking. About her. She hated when people did that. Just because she didn't think like others, they always assumed she was slow, or crazy, so she just played along. To tell the truth, tests showed she was of very high intelligence, she just didn't care about the things most people cared about. She'd rather spend her time alone writing than out working or partying. She started to listen closer as the voices grew louder and angrier.
"ALL I'M SAYING IS THAT SOMEONE HERE IS A MURDERER, AND SHE HASN'T SAID ONE THING! SHE HAS THE PERFECT COVER!" Alfred had screamed at the top of his lungs. He hadn't trusted Tarynasha since the day he had met her, mostly because she didn't speak a lot of English, so he didn't talk to her.
"Look," Barbara said in a very calm voice, "I know you may not like her, and she may not be a lot, but she's not a murderer, I've known her for a while, she isn't capable of that." That hurt. Tarynasha liked Barbara, but she to had decided long ago that Tarynasha was slow.
"Ok guys, We can either stand here and point fingers, or we can figure out what we're going to do." James had said, ending the argument.
"Agreed." Said the other two. And they set to work. They began searching the house trying to find where Mr. Catacomb might've kept his weapons collection. No luck. They searched the house from attic to Basement, and found not a single weapon. Which meant that more than likely, that the murderer would have brought it from home. Just as they all met in the foyer again, The lights shut off.



The lights came on again. Everyone was still alive, but a battle-axe had been lodged in the wall merely two inches from Alfred's head!
"I've bloody well been ambushed!" he cried.
"Let's see what the next part of the will is," said James.
Barbara read the next stanza.
"One down, the agent's job
Once and for all completed.
But four are still remaining.
Beware all you conceited.
Now get ye to the study,
The house of Golden Fleeces.
All of you will leave alive,
But one of you in pieces."
The group walked into the study and shut the door. That way, no one could come in and throw another ax at Alfred.
"The Golden Fleece..." Barbara mused. "Greek Mythology. Tarynasha, hand me that book of Greek Myths."
Tarynasha did as she was told.
"Jason and the Argonauts," Barbara mused, flipping to the story. "Jason obtained the Golden Fleece with-"
"The help of the beautiful Medea," Alfred finished. "I majored in Greek Mythology in school. I know every legend there ever was. I'll bet I know more than-"
"Well, looks like we know who the next victim is," James scoffed. "Beware all ye conceited. We all know the story. Babs is just reminding us."
Barbara smiled warmly for the first time since her arrival. "In that case, should we save him, or not?"
"This old man, learned his deal, he won't make another meal..." Tarynasha mumbled.
"I think we have our answer," James smirked.
"What?! You can't just bloody well leave me to die!"
"Oh, you won't die, Alfred. It says you'll be alive, but you'll leave in pieces. But just in case, make your piece with God."Jason snickered.

The lightening flashed and the lights went out again. When it was over, everyone looked at Alfred. behind him on the wall was another battle ax, pinning his left arm to the crimson-stained wallpaper.

"My arm!, Oh god! My arm!" Alfred shouted in pain. The rest of the grouped couldn't move, they were pinned by fear and stood there aghast. Alfred looked at his arm in horror. And nobody was going to make a move to help him, so he pulled the ax off himself. His arm hung limp, and he knew there was only one thing to do. He cut the rest off, and wrapped and cleaned his wound.
"Doesn't anyone find it a bit odd that Mrs. Catacomb knew All this was going to happen?" James Had said, raising his eyebrow. He was a successful man, he didn't even quite know why he was here. He didn't know these people, save Barbara. He didn't need any of the money, or pointless nick knacks. He just guessed it would be nice to be near a familiar place. His life had been quite dreadful lately, with the disappearance of Barbara, the stock market crash, and now the loss of his Cousin. And now look, he was trapped in some house, with strangers, one of which was a murderer! This was defently something he didn't need. He was only 28, a successful, and well known playright amongst Hollywood executives, he most certainly didn't need to be some corpse in an elaborate mystery.
"I suppose you're right James, but then again, old lady Catacomb wasn't the most sane person." Barbara continued, "She was quite an eccentric woman, knowing her, she probably thought this up as an elaborate joke!" She mused with an almost chuckle in her voice.
"This old man, he began to snore, this means we'll sleep for one hour more." Tarynasha sang quietly. Then there was a flash of lightning, and the lights went out. When they came back on, they revealed the entire group on the ground, sleeping.

[Taryn]

Barbara opened her eyes slowly. Everyone around her was still sleeping. Alfred was snoring, Tarynasha was sucking her thumb in the middle of some wacky dream, and James--where was James? 'And when did I bring a pillow down here?' Barbara thought to herself. She lifted her head up and sighed with relief. Somehow she had crawled over to James and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt his arm relax its grip on her waist.
Barbara laid down again. She remembered how wonderful it had been to act in James' plays and movies. Especially when the character was specifically written for her, and when he acted the part opposite her. She had hated giving that up. Being Mrs. Kitty's bodyguard had taken its tole on her. Dark circles under her eyes, a scar or six, and separation from James. That had been the worst part: not being able to tell him why she had to go here or there and not see him for so many weeks or months. She hated to see that look in his eyes when they had to say good-bye. This last mission had taken one year. One year! And though Tyson was out of the way, and the quest was over, Barbara knew that her time in Old Lady Catacomb's service was far from complete, no matter what the telegram wanted the others to believe. The only consolation for her was that James wouldn't be hurt. Next to her, he was the closest one to Mrs. Kitty. She wouldn't let anything happen to him.
But there had been two attempts on Alfred, one for life, one for horror. Nothing had happened to Tarynasha. Barbara tried to remember if the telegram had said anything about the kid. It was hard pretending she had no idea how this was going to turn out; that she was only the messenger. But for her sake, she had to.




Alfred woke up and rubbed his eyes. 'That's peculiar,' He thought, 'I don't remember bringing a pillow and blanket down here.' In fact, he didn't even remember being tired. He looked around the room and was a bit confused by what he saw. Everyone was asleep. How could he not remember? he tried to think. The last thing he could remember was... was. Blast! Alfred couldn't remember a thing! Wait, an image crossed his mind. it was that of Tarynasha. That girl. He never had understood her. Why on Earth Mrs. Catacomb adopted her was a mystery to him. He had never cared for her. He'd known her now, what? eight years? She always gave him glares and evil looks, like he'd hurt her somehow. Course, he'd never know if he had, the girl spoke only about one fourth of the English language, and when she did speak, it wasn't to him. he didn't care for her either. He was of superior intellect, a graduate of Harvard, and a successful Lawyer. She on the other hand, had never set foot in a school, could
hardly speak, and wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. Alfred got up and put his glasses on. When he looked at his watch he noticed that it said 12 am. 'That's peculiar', he thought, ' Tyson had died at midnight, my watch must have stopped.'
Eventually, everyone was up. And, just like Alfred, none of them had any memory.
"Wait, so none of us remember anything?" Asked James, trying to get his facts straight.
"Well, actually, I do remember something." Alfred offered. "The last thing I can remember was hearing something Tarynasha said." suddenly, all eyes were on Tarynasha. First her reaction was that of discomfort, then one of anger. She started shouting things in Russian that no one could understand. And then the lights went out.




The lights came on again. "I remember everything now," Barbara said, in wide eyed wonder.
"Me too," said James.
"As do I," Alfred sighed.
Tarynasha just sat in a corner rocking and giving Alfred evil looks. The lawyer shuddered. "Now, Mrs. Rydell--"
"It's MS., genius," Barbara spat," M-I-S-S!"
"Well, there's no need to get huffy! What does the next stanza say?"
Barbara glared with Tarynasha as she pulled out the letter.
"The end of the game draws nearer,
But the debts have not been paid.
Go to the yard where the salesman,
Has casually been laid.
Now, give him a proper burial.
But heed the warning given before.
For the darkest one among you,
Has yet to settle a score."
"So," said James, "we bury Tyson, I get that; and we're not supposed to take out the crystal pike. But who's the 'darkest one among us‘?"
"It would have to be that vile creature over there!" Alfred cried. "She's been nothing but insipid and cryptic this entire time!"
Something snapped inside Tarynasha. She sprang up, shouting insults and threats in a mixture of English, Russian, and Blinkish. She wrenched the ax out of the wall, and hurled it at Alfred. It lodged in his chest with lightning speed. He staggered backward, making sure that no matter what, he got a good, long, dramatic death scene. Don't you hate it when actors do that? He finally collapsed in a chair.
"Tell the world my story..." he gasped,"Tell them I was..."
"In love with Tarynasha?" James finished sarcastically. "Oh, we all knew that. I mean, you always blame everything on the one you love the most. I've suspected Babsy from the minute she walked in."
Alfred drew his last breath and slumped down dead in the chair.
"Quadruple funeral," Tarynasha grinned.
"Did you mean what you said?" Barbara asked, eyeing James suspiciously. "You mean the part about how I feel?"
"No, the part where you said you suspected me from the minute I walked in."
"Well, I--"
"Was right," Barbara sighed. "You're right. I'm the darkest one. I killed Tyson. I threw the ax at Alfred both times before Tarynasha finished the job. I was only following orders. You see, I had already read the telegram. After each stanza, I was given a separate list of instructions to follow in between. The parts about my job being completed were only to throw the rest of you off. Mrs. Catacomb wanted Alfred out of the way because he had been embezzling her family's money for years. He'd used it in various casinos all over the world, and was even involved with the mafia.
Tyson, on the other hand, had plotted to have Mrs. Kitty murdered. He had gone to Japan to hire an assassin to do the dirty work. I followed him across Asia, and caught him in Beijing. Unfortunately, Tyson had lied about the location of the assassin in case I tried to follow him, and he had already met up with the man. My com-link was damaged during the fight, and the base thought they had lost me for good. But I was still alive and kicking--literally. When the dust cleared, the assassin was road kill, I was cut and bleeding, and Tyson was on his way back home. I was supposed to do Michelangelo in, too, but I couldn't heal in time. So that's where I am now. He's still alive in the yard, but if we take out the crystal pike I threw into him, he will recover and become stronger than before. He'll be at the physical level of the assassin he hired. Don't ask me how. Old Lady Catacomb must've been into witchcraft or something. Does this change anything? Does it change us, now that you understand, Brave heart?"


James looked at Barbara not quite understanding the whole situation. He had just found out that the love of his life was actually a murderer and a very cruel person indeed. How could she truly expect him to be fine with that? It was true that she was just doing her job, but for God's sake, what was the limit? He looked at her with honest eyes and sighed. "Barbara, I'm afraid it does, I don't think I'd be able to deal with all the lies and secrets." Barbara winced.
"Tyson, Yard." Tarynasha casually mentioned, ending their conversation. They all joined her in the backyard and did as they were told. They gave Tyson (hey, I just realized, he's named after chicken!) a proper burial. And after the 'incident' with Tarynasha, Alfred was buried too. After that was done, James remembered one of the lines of the will. ' For the darkest one among you has yet to settle a score' If the darkest one among them, as she had admitted, was Barbara, who would she have a score to settle with? And why? James Thought about it for a while, but couldn't come up with an answer. As he turned around to join Barbara and Tarynasha at the 'funeral' he turned to see the barrel of a gun, pointed at his face. And at the end of it, was Barbara.

[Taryn]

"What are you doing? Don't end it like this!" James pleaded.
"Sorry, Kid," Barbara smirked, cocking the pistol,"I can't leave any loose ends."
"Well, it looks like you untied one!" A familiar voice chided. A dark figure leapt out of the shadows and tackled Barbara. The pair wrestled on the ground, each one blocking the other's blows and matching them with frightening accuracy. Lightning flashed again, revealing two Barbara's kicking scratching and bleeding on the ground. James stared wide-eyed as they wrenched themselves off the ground and began using martial arts. Every calculated move was perfectly countered, until one changed styles and gave the other a right cross. The victim staggered backward, giving the attacker the upper hand. In a flash, she kicked the woman who had dropped the gun by this time, gave her a good on-two, tied her up, and aimed the gun at her head.
"Alright, Mrs. Kitty, the game is up," the other Barbara said, breathing heavily, "I've done more than what was in the job description. Now tell them the truth, and 'em go!"
"Never!" spat the floored feme fatal, "I'm the real Barbara, not you."
"You're lying!"
"Wait just a minute! Hold the freakin' phone!" James hollered.
"What?!" screamed the Barbaras.
"OK. There's gotta be a way to tell the difference between you two. I'm gonna ask some questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your abilities. Barbara who confessed to be a mass murderer: What was the first movie we did together?"
"Tales from the Script," she answered with a smirk.
"Same question, Barbara with the gun."
"Tales from the Script."
"Okay, round two," James sighed,"Mass murderer: what color are my eyes?"
"What kind of a question is that?" she scoffed," They're blue, like mine."
"Same question," he said, gesturing to the other one.
"Green." she answered calmly.
"Last question, would you model for Playboy?"
"Of course! Why do you even have to ask?" quipped the woman on the ground.
"What are you, nuts?! I promised you I wouldn't do that!" screamed the woman holding the gun. She grabbed a copy of The Two Towers from Tarynasha and smacked James on the shoulder.
"OW!" he yelped. "That's my Barbara!" he held her close, making sure not to upset the gun as he did so. "Are you really a--"
"Of course not!" she answered. "The story Mrs. Kitty told you about the assassin was true, but not the part about me being her 'errand girl'. I did some odd jobs for her, but nothing like what she tried to tell you when she walked in the door."
"So, what were you doing all those times that you left mysteriously?" James inquired.
"I was writing songs and sending them out to various record companies. I was also working in a nightclub as a singer. I used another name when I went on tour and became very successful. I kept it secret from you because I wanted to surprise you when I got all the money I could out of it so that you and I could--never mind. I heard what you said to her, and you may as well have been saying it to me. I'll get out of your life as soon as I turn in my worst half to the police."
"Babs, I don't want you to go," James whispered.
"Really? Oh, I--"
He never let her finish. You know the drill for this part of the movies, fireworks start, bells ring, and one co-writer cheers James on screaming "Finally! Oh, you go, boy!*sniff* That's so sweet!" *sniff* I'm alright now! Back to the story.




"Oh James, I love you ever so much!" Barbara said with a dreamy look in her eyes. And suddenly, James burst into song!

"I got you babe! I got you babe! Take it Babs!"

"Um James, did you forget to take your little yellow pill?"

"Uh huh! And I haven't for, like fifty bajillion years! And I'm starting to see some pretty cool colors!" James said with the excitment of a little child.

"Uh huh. well James, isn't this supposed to be the part where we ride off into the proverbial sunset and live happily ever after?"

"But what about the child? We can't just leave her here, she's so defenseless, helpless, and weak!" Said James, almost singing.

"Bite Me." Said Tarynasha, unraveling what James just said. "I'm not defenseless, and I don't need your help. I have an I.Q. of 176 and I could've graduated if that old bat would've put me in school instead of using me as her minion. However, I need a place to stay since I'm only fourteen, and if you two lovebirds(she almost gags saying that word) would be so kind as to help me out, I would really appre(gag) appreciate it."

"What do ya say James?" Asked Barbara pleading.

"I guess, but..." Said James with that far look in his eyes.

"James, are you ok?" Asked Barbara with genuine concern in her voice.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm fine, it's just *starts to tear up* I always loved happy endings!"

"Oh, What a Kodak moment. Stop. You'll make my mascara run." Said Tarynasha, in a monotone voice, growing impatient.

What happened next? Well, our three remaining heroes rode off into the sunset, holding hands and skipping. James and Barbara are happily married with their daughter Tarynasha. Barbara is a successful singer, and with her and James money, they bought a few acres And lived happily ever after. Tarynasha married their pool boy after squandering all her money on blinkies. She couldn't be happier with Pedro, the main reason being that they don't understand a word the other one says, and Pedro is VERY rich, but that's another story. Or is it?