Day 824: Swashbuckling and Thievery – Two Tales of Woe

Swashbuckling you say?  Aye, swashbuckling.  And thievery?  Aye…and thievery. Sigh.  The two tales of woe I am about to relay occurred on Saturday evening and Sunday last and feature Tuesday and Wednesday respectively.  I consider the natives to be of reasonable intelligence and intellect and very resourceful.  During my observations, they have proved a slight bit headstrong and determined in their actions as well. These traits have both plagued the heathens and have been an asset to their arsenal of tactics to thwart my premeditated designs for them.  Make no mistake – this heathens are quite capable, very resourceful and untrustworthy.

Saturday Evening, Approximately 9 PM-ish

After taking the tribe out for a multi-tribe dinner with the tribal elders, the tribal leader, the natives and myself returned to the tribal abode, prepared to shoo the natives off to their slumbers as another outing for the breakfast meal with the same company would occur early the next morning.  Wednesday had fallen asleep in the tribe’s mode of transportation, as we had assumed she would, which is both fortunate and unfortunate.  You see, it’s fortunate in that she was quiet; when she is fatigued, her disposition becomes that of an angry grizzly bear.  Unfortunate, in that she fell asleep and would either be difficult to extract from the vehicle while still asleep or if woken, she may never go back to sleep.  However, the native woke upon arriving at the tribal abode, so we were now stuck with the latter.

Once in the tribal abode, we began to go about our normal bedtime routine which includes picking up (groan), changing into bedtime clothing, brushing of teeth, etc.  The natives apparently had no intentions of going off to their slumbers.  At all.  They were, for all intents and purposes, wired for sound.  Yup.  Like they ingested a pound of sugar EACH.  Everything was a battle – picking up, changing into pajamas, brushing of teeth – worse than Gettysburg.  However, the tribal leader and I prevailed, and the natives were sentenced to a night of slumber in their resting chambers.  Phew.

That’s when the bedtime antics began.  Let me be clear, here, that the tribal leader and I were prepared for their antics – we were tired and needed to retire to our own resting chambers, but we were prepared to deal with the multiple requests for this or for that and to steer them back to their resting chambers.

I have a keen sense of detecting when mischief is afoot – I can, just by hearing sounds over the two-way monitor in their resting chambers, tell EXACTLY what they’re doing and where they are.  It’s a gift.  And a curse.  For, I am usually the first to fly down the hallway to the natives’ resting chambers to thwart whatever activity they might be engaged in.  Yet another gift.  And, tonight was no different.

So, over the monitor I heard noises – bumps, knocks and other noises that led me to believe that the natives were NOT asleep.  I had the sinking feeling that they were up to no good.  Damn it, I hate it when I’m right.

I flew down the hallway to their resting quarters, in the dark, as if loaded for bear.  To be clear here, the time was approximately 10 PM – WAY past the native’s bedtime and nearly approaching my own.  I was done with everything – including their shenanigans.  I flung open the door, or at least tried to because Wednesday had taken EVERYTHING off her bed, except for the fitted sheet, and thrown it on the floor behind the door.  Great.  A barricade.

The things that are normally on Wednesday’s bed equal, in size, a small mountain, and are just as immovable.  After forcing the door open, I observed the following things:  a toy vacuum cleaner was now on Wednesday’s bed, with Wednesday who was standing on her bed at this point.  Tuesday was standing – no – swashbuckling on top of Wednesday’s chest of drawers attempting to reach the shelf above that held many items that were specifically placed out of her reach…or at least intended to be out of her reach.  A tart warmer also sat on that shelf as a nightlight and to spread pleasant aromas throughout their room and that end of the abode.  Let me do a little aside here – the chest of drawers is easily four to four and a half feet off the ground – a height that really takes some skill to achieve for a native.  However, I was not impressed at this point. Not. At. All.

I must have turned green and grew horns because my voice turn into that of an ogre.

“GET DOWN, NOW!!!!”  I more or less screamed.

Tuesday, who was in mid stride continued knocking things off the shelf as she fumbled her way down onto Wednesday’s bed.  I then went into a long dissertation on why she should not be climbing up there and touching anything on that shelf.  Tuesday looked at me with a confused look – she really wasn’t confused.  She knew exactly what I was telling her.  Soon, the tribal leader joined me and we had a tribal pow-wow in the natives’ resting chambers.  At 10 PM.   She was informed that she should not swashbuckle up there again or else the light would remain off as would the music that puts the heathens to sleep.  We departed their resting chambers and returned to our own.  I continued to listen.

After a time, some similar sounds continued over the monitor.  Son of a bitch.  They’re at it again.

I stormed down the hallway, this time followed by the tribal leader.  And again, we found Tuesday, high atop Wednesday’s chest of drawers, swashbuckling like a pirate on the seven seas.  My ogre form took over again and I scared her down from her perch.  This was met with lament and considerable wailing and crying.  We impressed upon her the need for her to not get back up on the bureau.  The light, much to their chagrin, was turned off but the music remained on.  The time at this point was approaching 11 PM.

We departed their resting chambers, leaving the natives disagreeable at best and expressing lament about the loss of the light in their room.  Tuesday even pleaded her case to the tribal leader and I in our own resting chambers, however, to no avail.  We informed her that she needed to retreat to the place from whence she came and go to sleep.  Eventually, after much coaxing, she returned to her resting quarters and soon after the eleven o’clock hour, all was quiet except the sounds of sweet lullabies coming from their room.  Thank God.

The next day seemed to go pleasantly – we went out and ate our breakfast sustenance with the other members of the extended tribe and the tribal elders and picked up some necessary provisions before returning to the tribal abode.  Once home, I needed to perform some occupational labors, so the tribal leader kept the natives busy whilst I concentrated on my project.  During this time, Wednesday fell asleep on the floor of the tribal living area.  Apparently she should have gotten more sleep last night.  Go figure.

After a time, Tuesday was growing restless and I was ready for a break.  So, I took Tuesday outside for some playtime and to tire her out so that we did not have a repeat performance of last evening’s swashbuckling episode.  Whilst outside, both the tribal leader and Wednesday napped.  Or, at least, I thought they were both napping.

Tuesday and I stayed outside for about an hour.  I informed her that we needed to come back in and make the evening’s sustenance.  So, we came in to the tribal abode.  The first thing I noticed upon arriving inside was that the door was seemingly barricaded – Wednesday must be awake.  Pushing a little harder, I got the door open enough to observe Wednesday with a mouth, FULL of something, smiling at me.  Fuck.  The tribal leader was still lying down on the reclining tribal furniture.  Apparently, she found something to eat – I just didn’t know what.

I inquired what she was eating and all I got was smiles and a big shit eating grin.  Wonderful.  At this point, the tribal leader had woken moments earlier and we were both trying to extract from her what she was eating.  We determined that it was chocolate in nature (go figure) and that it was perhaps Oreo cookies.  Where they hell did she get those from?  Apparently, there was a small, self serve container of cookies on the counter from a previous excursion that, when she awoke, she sought out, opened and proceeded to FINISH the container.  Damn.  Just damn.  I then found the empty container over behind the door to the abode, with her usual accoutrements.  The frightening things here are:

1.  Wednesday knew right where the cookies were.

2.  Wednesday was quiet like a thief and never made a noise whilst seeking her cookies.

3.  Wednesday polished off a half full container of cookies in a short amount of time.

So there you go.  Two tales of swashbuckling and thievery.  I have said it before and I’ll say it again – the natives should not be underestimated.  They are capable, resourceful and untrustworthy.


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