Submitted:
The Power of Imagination
Things were not going well in the totalitarian regime of one Lord von Pantsface. “No no no no no!” the boy yelled. “You gotta do it! You GOTTA!"
“Nuh-uh!” his subject protested. “We’ve been playing your stupid game for all of lunch! You said I could have a turn! No fair!”
“Yeah, well, I’m a total- a dicta- the boss of everything, so you hafta do what I say!” Pouting, the kid folded his arms across his chest and kicked petulantly at the uneven surface of the playground. “That’s the way the game works!”
“Well, I quit! I’m not going to play your stupid game, and neither is Tommy, right?” Malcolm turned to the third boy who had not yet spoken, waiting impatiently for him to agree.
“I’ve been saying this was a dumb idea for the past half hour,” Tommy replied.
“YOU’RE a dumb idea!” von Pantsface retorted, shoving the offender into his co-conspirator.
“Hey!” Tommy cried. “You take that back!”
A tense moment followed, the three children staring across the intervening space at one another. No-one moved as the wind shook the trees on the other side of the chain-link fence, bringing down a rain of dead and dying leaves over the portables. And then Malcolm rolled up his sleeves.
Watching from the break room, Andrew turned to Susan and Bob. “Looks like Malcolm and Tommy are getting in some sort of fight,” he commented. Fights like this weren’t uncommon, but it always put a damper on the teachers’ day.
“How bad is it?” asked Bob, looking up from his coffee. There was always the small chance that it was a mock fight or a scuffle that would resolve itself before the teachers ever set foot on the blacktop.
Andrew mutely shook his head, then, hazarding another glance outside, pronounced, “Yeah, someone’s going to get a bloody nose if we don’t head out there soon.”
“I guess we’d better go and break it up,” Susan sighed.
“Alright, now let’s get to the bottom of this,” Bob said, leveling his eyes in turn at the three children, who sat in gloomy silence.
“Tommy, you tell me exactly what happened,” Susan commanded, singling out the most likely child to turn informant.
Tommy tried to avoid her gaze, feeling the weight of his companions’ stares on the side of his head. The teacher’s eyes, however, were too much to take. Squirming in his chair, he burst out: “It’s just that Malcolm’s friend was hogging all the play time! He made us play his stupid game and we were going to take turns but we didn’t!”
“What friend?” Andrew asked, confused.
“Lord von Pantsface!” Tommy exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the guilty party. “He said he was a total dick tater, and we had to do what he said!” The light of comprehension began to dawn on the adults’ faces, and Susan and Andrew shared an amused glance.
“Tommy, Malcolm… You know that this Lord von Pantsface is just imaginary, right? You don’t have to do what he says, and if you don’t like what he’s doing, just ignore him. He’ll go away as soon as you don’t believe in him anymore,” Susan explained gently.
“What?! I am so real! Malcolm, tell them I’m real!” Lord von Pantsface urgently shook his friend’s shoulder.
“Hey, look! It really does work!” Tommy exclaimed. The imaginary child was already beginning to fade, Malcolm’s bright yellow shirt clearly visible through his hands.
Panicking, he began to beg. “Guys, no! Please! Don’t do this to me! We can play whatever game you want! I don’t want to disappear!”
“C’mon, Tommy, let’s go play!” Malcolm said excitedly, and the two children rushed off to the playground again.
“These kids,” Bob chuckled, sitting back down to his now cold cup of coffee. “What an imagination, eh?”
“I know,” Andrew replied. “Totalitarian dictators. I’d hate to see what they’re like when they’ve grown up.”
Susan turned to him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Who are you talking to?”
“Nuh-uh!” his subject protested. “We’ve been playing your stupid game for all of lunch! You said I could have a turn! No fair!”
“Yeah, well, I’m a total- a dicta- the boss of everything, so you hafta do what I say!” Pouting, the kid folded his arms across his chest and kicked petulantly at the uneven surface of the playground. “That’s the way the game works!”
“Well, I quit! I’m not going to play your stupid game, and neither is Tommy, right?” Malcolm turned to the third boy who had not yet spoken, waiting impatiently for him to agree.
“I’ve been saying this was a dumb idea for the past half hour,” Tommy replied.
“YOU’RE a dumb idea!” von Pantsface retorted, shoving the offender into his co-conspirator.
“Hey!” Tommy cried. “You take that back!”
A tense moment followed, the three children staring across the intervening space at one another. No-one moved as the wind shook the trees on the other side of the chain-link fence, bringing down a rain of dead and dying leaves over the portables. And then Malcolm rolled up his sleeves.
Watching from the break room, Andrew turned to Susan and Bob. “Looks like Malcolm and Tommy are getting in some sort of fight,” he commented. Fights like this weren’t uncommon, but it always put a damper on the teachers’ day.
“How bad is it?” asked Bob, looking up from his coffee. There was always the small chance that it was a mock fight or a scuffle that would resolve itself before the teachers ever set foot on the blacktop.
Andrew mutely shook his head, then, hazarding another glance outside, pronounced, “Yeah, someone’s going to get a bloody nose if we don’t head out there soon.”
“I guess we’d better go and break it up,” Susan sighed.
“Alright, now let’s get to the bottom of this,” Bob said, leveling his eyes in turn at the three children, who sat in gloomy silence.
“Tommy, you tell me exactly what happened,” Susan commanded, singling out the most likely child to turn informant.
Tommy tried to avoid her gaze, feeling the weight of his companions’ stares on the side of his head. The teacher’s eyes, however, were too much to take. Squirming in his chair, he burst out: “It’s just that Malcolm’s friend was hogging all the play time! He made us play his stupid game and we were going to take turns but we didn’t!”
“What friend?” Andrew asked, confused.
“Lord von Pantsface!” Tommy exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the guilty party. “He said he was a total dick tater, and we had to do what he said!” The light of comprehension began to dawn on the adults’ faces, and Susan and Andrew shared an amused glance.
“Tommy, Malcolm… You know that this Lord von Pantsface is just imaginary, right? You don’t have to do what he says, and if you don’t like what he’s doing, just ignore him. He’ll go away as soon as you don’t believe in him anymore,” Susan explained gently.
“What?! I am so real! Malcolm, tell them I’m real!” Lord von Pantsface urgently shook his friend’s shoulder.
“Hey, look! It really does work!” Tommy exclaimed. The imaginary child was already beginning to fade, Malcolm’s bright yellow shirt clearly visible through his hands.
Panicking, he began to beg. “Guys, no! Please! Don’t do this to me! We can play whatever game you want! I don’t want to disappear!”
“C’mon, Tommy, let’s go play!” Malcolm said excitedly, and the two children rushed off to the playground again.
“These kids,” Bob chuckled, sitting back down to his now cold cup of coffee. “What an imagination, eh?”
“I know,” Andrew replied. “Totalitarian dictators. I’d hate to see what they’re like when they’ve grown up.”
Susan turned to him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Who are you talking to?”
So... yeah. Had the idea of a real imaginary friend, and then the idea that one of the teachers was imaginary, and then just went with the lulz. Can you tell that I suck at writing dialogue? Oh, well. Main feedback I got was that I introduced too many characters too quickly, which was fair enough. I was pretty much just churning it out last minute ^^;
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