At school, she wrote a paragraph for her teacher to read out loud. It was the story of Dr. George Washington, and how he had beaten the bandits at Camp Waterloo, which was where she wanted to go to, if only it didn't toodleloo back into the Bandersnatch's cave from Alice in Glass, the waterfall caverns giving away to new looking glass stiletto high heels, which she would wore some day, but not out there, oh no. It ended with her teacher reading the class their lesson scores for the day, and they recited them back to her happily enough, but not tragically as well, for they were fallen ill, and did not need such belittling dares, as she wouldn't have either. She told Tiffany that she forgot to get her some sweets and called her darling as well. Tiffany was fine, but kind of sleepy and wanted to eat her matchbook, but they caved in in the end and called Reb's mom from the office telephone the Principal had kept in his office and the secretary was out, so she called her mom with the Principal's help, not without it, to imbide Tiffany's weak laments of chariot overdose and her fired up tummy wummy was humbling into the night owl's den so fast she could lark and stark but not ride it out! Tiffany and Reb received Tiffany's moms, no, it was Reb's rather, sweet scones for dessert. Only they weren't scones they were iced brownies! Reb hadn't managed to find a recipe for scones in the good book that they had gotten from the meekest library in the universe which couldn't keep its secrets if it dared, and uncommon as it was, the brownies with icing were delicious, none the less! Tiffany agreed. She had helped make them after all. It would not do her any good not to sell the beans instead of swiddle them home. She felt rotten to the core of her being because she had not paid Reb for the plan's to the cafe barber quarter that rocked her socks off, but she was jelly none the less, she said, of Reb's poor planning skills! Reb had to agree. They were a common place object, but Reb had a way with words and Tiffany and Reb left the school house rocket theater on to home, they dared to say, because they were home in an instant. Not at light speed, because that meant faster than Earth, and here they were, as far as they knew, hurtling through an asteroid belt or something like that of no consequence, but was that really true? She asked her mom what an asteroid belt felt like hurdling through Earth's brains if it was going no pain no gain through the atmosphere! Her mom said it was kind of like watching the television turn on, but then off again really quickly. She asked Reb if she wanted to try out for the space team. Reb said she hadn't thought less of that nonsense than the last time she thought never ago was a dirty word! Her mother said she was grateful for the cat bounce and cat bounced her back with a dirty look. Her mother was also an abject apron worrier. If Reb felt she needed her any less, she would be worse off for it than the wear wolf! With all that and said and done done with the said part and done with the done part so rightly that it just burst right off and ran to Narnia in a hotch kiss scoop plane or some such variant of a scuba diving analgionism, she told her mom she wanted to find a true recipe for real scones, not the fairy dust ones, but one's from England or somewhere else. She tossed in "somewhere's" like she knowned the place as well, it seemed to Reb, so she went it alone from there and a cake pan to the dust bowl chewing gum alley of Tibet and a half past ten analogy later, she found what she was looking for, lickety split and a horse feather of a chewing gum race scene so racey it took the pony off the hook for racing it, like the bookie said! She found a recipe for English Scones on the old internet and made it up right instantly. Or right nowish she said if you preferred that bird word gamble of a plane take off routine with a run around bait and switch mechanic's car of a hatch tear away bupkiss Werther's original's match beta skin movie flick dealie. She used the drain-o-matic routine in her head to dissolve the acid's and the flies in to the reckless delements or whatever that meant in her sad, little brain she decided abouts to call it even and quit.
She used English spelling in her recipe book, and even drew the picture perfectly, but also the drawings as well ended up splashed by magic, as she used the twirly gig to reposition the super stardust mega pattern into the ethern quilt that longed to be seen, but not hearted as well.
She told Tiffany about the recipe and that she just had to try it!
Tiffany tired it as well and brought the resultant mess to school in a Tupperware container that chewed the moist spigot and not the virtues of little girls caught in the dead end streets of Teburkey or wherever the streets meet the sand.
Tiffany's were just better. That was it, Reb said, and no hads no buts to chew but moist buttholes, she said, and winced, because she thought that buttholes and moist chew had no words to chew but moist and buttholes and her teacher stopped her right there. She told her they were delicious, and that was it. They had English tea as well and some simple odd bits of crackers and Reb dreamt of lovingly embracing a long rotisserie pig style but that was a long ways away from here, she reckoned about.
She watched her weight about the bears and mice when she got done with her telly vision and her ring-a-maroles, or whatevers they's weres, she said was her lovingly graceful and tell tale face of fraud or but worst than the mess in the oven, but whatevers as well. She said these words in the English accent of an old queen's arse. Her father corrected her. He was not wrong to say it was not nicer in Britain than Bethlehem or somewords are weird. She also used J.K. Rowling's words for possum but twice, not but prettily as well as certain someones did in the good book of Simone, but J.K. Rowling's words of wisdom sure were nice to hear at times, awful at other times, kinda like that thing a mouse says before it knocks on wood twice. She asked if they wouldn't know it before they did. They said they might. She said it was just as well. Tiffany was relaxing in her bed chambers all by her little lonely nincompoopiness, and had done her homework but tears it. Reb asked her if she wanted to play after dinner. She said she might have already done so if a certain someone, Reb perhaps, had asked her earlier, or later as well, and agreed she might come over if she wasn't already late for bed and breakfast and asked her mom to take her to Reb's fine place on the chancellery district's chariot of fire, twice but nice, and said her butt hurt when she got to Reb's place. She said the chancellery bit her on the badingus and said it was a bad word to use, but don't take it out of taste, take it out of poison, and called Reb darling. Maybe this was a phase of hers? She and Reb, Tiffany with Reb, or Rebellious Tiffany if they combined, decided to oh, maybe watch some TV together, and did so all night longly, not rebelliously, that didn't make any sense to the TV world or the witches wood, who made that worth a bet and half lackadaisically the pudding messes they might incur if the pudding prizes weren't in the coven. They used this excuse to lightly dilly dally around the misses badishes issue of who say what when where and asked her mom to get them some scones, and called her love and dear as well as a pig looking malarkey mess maker once they figured out what they were having for dinner and a tight twin basket. She told them she looked everywhere, but could not, for the life of her, and her badingus as well, find where the whipping cream was. It was on top of the refrigerator. Tiffany laughed and scooped out the fine duds into the corn muffin tin container from Hell and back again and swore that she said a fine and dandy king of Filipino slang term for crotchetiness but her mother scolded her and it was off to bed early this time of night. Tiffany was taken home by the evil witch of the near do wellers or something alley and Reb was highlighted by worrisome thoughts like hey there and woah there and deer antlers. She was locked in her room but the night stand beckoned to her. She read her book and even added a few post marks to the scripting easel works before she was right nonsensed back into her world again.
She dreamt of nonsense once again.
But that, in time, would dwadle.