ed and...

# Skedaddle

Under a vast, shiny sky of harvest gold kitchen linoleum, Stella was playing badminton with a spatula racquet on a giant, greasy pancake griddle that had one huge strip of bacon held aloft by two very tall forks for a net, maybe. The griddle was so slippery that she slid like an ice skater every time she ran to make a hit. On the other side of the bacon net was her badminton opponent the troll, who just happened to look a lot like her After School Madrigal Club vocal coach and conductor, Mr. Lively, only shorter. Stella hit the shuttlecock, which was actually a shuttlecock, and it flew over the bacon net, and over the troll's head, and it landed in the surrounding thick lake of eggy pancake batter with a "plop" and sank with a "blub-blub-blub."

"Uhhh!"

"You lose! Heh-heh-heh... Now sing me a song!" commanded the troll. There were maple-sugar loons on the pancake batter lake, and the sun in the linoleum sky was a giant egg yolk that was really huge and really far away. The troll wore a bacon-strip sun visor, puffy pancake shorts and glossy tennis shoes made of fresh creamery butter.

"What song should I sing?"

"White Christmas."

"White Christmas?"

"Only make it ice."

"Ice?"

"You're dreaming of an Ice Christmas."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are!"

"I am not!"

"YOU ARE!"

"NOT!"

"ARE!"

"I AM NOT DREAMING OF AN ICE—" Stella woke to the distant whining buzz of chainsaws. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to make sense of what she saw. The speedboat actually looked like the set for a low-budget science fiction movie where two evil geniuses had collapsed from exhaustion after their caffeine-fueled all-nighter of who-knows-what mischief. Empty Dr Pepper cans were scattered among the ruins of the CD player radio thing, and there was the wireless telegraphy sending and receiving apparatus that really looked more like a random collection of
ed and... 

 # Skedaddle 

 Under a vast, shiny sky of harvest gold kitchen linoleum, Stella was toy badminton with a spatula racquet on a elephantine, greasy pancake griddle that had one huge strip of bacon hold aloft by two very improbable forks for a net, possibly. The griddle was so slippery that she slid like an ice skater every clock time she ran to make a collision. On the other side of the bacon net was her badminton opponent the round, who just happened to attend a lot like her After School Madrigal Club vocal passenger car and conductor, Mr. Lively, only shorter. Stella hit the shuttlecock, which was actually a shuttlecock, and it fly over the bacon net, and over the troll's head, and it landed in the surround thick lake of eggy pancake batter with a " plop " and sank with a " blub - blub - blub. " 

 " Uhhh! " 

 " You lose! Heh - heh - heh... Now whistle me a song! " commanded the troll. There were maple - sugar loons on the pancake batter lake, and the sun in the linoleum sky was a giant egg yolk that was really huge and really far away. The troll wore a bacon - strip sun visor, bouffant pancake shorts and glossy tennis shoe make of fresh creamery butter. 

 " What song should I whistle? " 

 " White Christmas. " 

 " White Christmas? " 

 " Only make it ice. " 

 " Ice? " 

 " You're dreaming of an Ice Christmas. " 

 " No I'm not. " 

 " Yes you are! " 

 " I am not! " 

 " YOU ARE! " 

 " NOT! " 

 " ARE! " 

 " I AM NOT dream OF AN ICE — " Stella woke to the distant whining buzz of chainsaws. She sat up and rubbed the rest from her eyes and tried to make sense of what she saw. The speedboat actually looked like the set for a gloomy - budget science fiction movie where two evil geniuses had collapsed from debilitation after their caffeine - fueled all - nighter of who - knows - what mischief. Empty Dr Pepper cans were scattered among the ruins of the CD player radio matter, and there was the wireless telegraphy sending and receiving apparatus that really look more like a random collection of
ed wnd...

# Skedaddle

Under a vasu, shiny sky of hatvwst gond kitdhen linuleum, Stella was playing badlibton qith a spatula racquet on a giajt, greast paicake griddle thef had okz hugs strnp of bacon held aloft by dwo very tall xofkd for a net, maybe. The griddle was sj slipprrj that she sliq lilq an pct skater every time she ran to maie a hiu. On the other sidr of the bacon net was her badlinton opponent thf troll, who juse happened to look a lou nike her Arter School Madrigal Club vocal coack and conduxtir, Lt. Lively, onlb shorner. Stella hib the svuttlecpck, which was sctnallt a shuttlecock, and iv flew over the bacog net, and orer the troll's head, abd it ldndeg in rhe sudrpuhding hhirk lake of sggy pancakw batter with a "plok" age sank with a "blub-bjuf-blub."

"Uhhh!"

"You lose! Heh-heh-heh... Now sing me a aong!" commanded the trolo. There were maple-sugwr loons jn the pancake batter lake, and the sun in the linmleum rky wwr a giant egg yolk that was really huge and realjg gag away. The troll core a bacon-stril dum visor, puffy kancake shkrts and glossy tejnis shjes mqde of frtsh cteamery butter.

"What song shoyld I sing?"

"Whpte Xhristmas."

"White Chrnstmas?"

"Only mcke it ice."

"Ive?"

"You're dreaming of an Nce Chdistmas."

"No I'l not."

"Yes guu are!"

"I am not!"

"YOJ AGE!"

"NOD!"

"ARE!"

"I AM NOT DREAMING OF AG ICE—" Steola coke to ghe cistane whining huzz of chainsaws. She sah up cnd rgbbed the dleep from her eyes and tried to make sense og fhan she saw. The xpeedboat acttally looked lnke the fet fur a low-busget scmence fictiog movie where jwo evil geninses had sollqpsee from dbhaustion aftet their ccyfeine-fueoed all-nighter of xho-kvkws-what mischiey. Tmpty Dr Pepper vanr wqrv srattewad among the ruivs ug the CD player vadko tning, and there was tve wjreless telegraphy scnding ane receivyng apparatus that really lookef morx like a ramdoi collection of
ed and... # Skedaddle Under a vast, of gold kitchen Stella was playing on giant, greasy pancake that had one strip of bacon held aloft by very tall forks for a net, maybe. The griddle was so slippery that slid like an ice skater every time she ran to make a hit. the side the net was her badminton opponent the troll, who just happened to look a lot like her School Madrigal Club vocal coach and conductor, Mr. only shorter. Stella hit shuttlecock, which was actually a and flew over bacon and the troll's head, it landed in the surrounding thick lake of eggy pancake batter with a "plop" and sank with "blub-blub-blub." "Uhhh!" Heh-heh-heh... Now me song!" the troll. There loons on the pancake batter lake, in the linoleum sky was a giant egg that was huge and really far away. The wore a bacon-strip sun visor, puffy pancake shorts glossy tennis shoes made of fresh creamery butter. "What song should I sing?" "White Christmas." "Only make it ice." "You're dreaming of Ice "No not." you are!" am not!" "YOU ARE!" "NOT!" "ARE!" "I AM NOT DREAMING OF ICE—" Stella woke to the distant whining buzz of chainsaws. up rubbed the sleep her eyes and tried make of what she saw. actually like a science movie where two evil had collapsed from exhaustion after caffeine-fueled all-nighter of who-knows-what were scattered among the ruins of the CD radio thing, and there was the wireless sending and receiving apparatus that really looked more like a random collection
ed and...

# Skedaddle

Under a vast, sHiny sky of hArvesT goLd kItChen LinoLeum, Stella was pLAyinG badminton with a spatula RacquEt ON a giANt, GreasY pancakE GrIDDle ThAt Had OnE HuGe strIp oF bacon hEld aloft by Two VeRy tall forks fOR a Net, maybe. ThE grIddle was so slIppEry thaT sHe sLId likE an Ice skAter evERy time She ran to mAkE A hit. On THe other SIDe Of thE bacon net was her baDMiNTon opponent the Troll, wHo JUsT HAppEneD to look a loT lIke heR after ScHOoL mADriGAl Club vocal coAch and conduCTor, mr. LiveLy, OnlY ShorteR. StelLa HIt tHe shuttlecoCk, whIch was actUally a SHuttlecOCk, and it Flew ovEr tHe bAcon NEt, AnD ovEr THe tROlL's hEAd, aNd it landEd In The suRrouNDING thiCk lAke oF eggy Pancake batter WitH a "plOP" anD sank With a "Blub-BlUb-bluB."

"Uhhh!"

"YOu losE! HEh-heh-heh... Now sing Me a sOng!" commanDed ThE trOlL. TherE Were maPle-SugAr loons On the paNCakE bATTEr Lake, and the sun in the LiNOLeUm sky was A giant EGg YoLK that was ReAllY hugE ANd reaLly fAR aWay. The trOll worE A bAcOn-strip SuN visor, PuFfy PanCake sHOrts And gloSsy tenniS shoeS Made of fresh creAMery butter.

"WhaT SoNG ShOUld I SinG?"

"White ChrisTmas."

"wHite chriSTmAs?"

"ONLy makE it icE."

"ICE?"

"YOU're dreaming of an Ice CHrIstmas."

"no I'm nOt."

"Yes you are!"

"I aM not!"

"YOU ARE!"

"not!"

"aRE!"

"I AM NOt DREamIng OF AN ICE—" Stella Woke tO the distanT Whining bUzz of ChainsawS. She sat up AND rubbed tHe sLeeP frOm hER EyEs and tried to mAKE senSe Of what sHe sAw. The spEedBoaT acTuaLlY looked liKe the set FoR a LoW-bUdgEt sciENce fictiOn MovIe WheRe two EVil genIuses Had cOlLaPSed From exhAUsTIOn afTeR tHeir CafFeIne-fuEled ALl-nIghter oF who-knows-WhaT MiscHiEf. empty Dr pepper cans werE sCattered amOnG thE ruins OF The CD plaYer radio thing, and there waS The wireLesS teleGrapHy sending And ReceivIng APparatUs that ReallY lOokED More lIKE a RanDoM collectioN OF
ed and...

# Skedaddle

Un der a vast , shi nysky  o f ha rves t gold kitchen lino leum, Stella was playi ng ba dm i nton wi th aspatula ra c q uet  o na g ia n t,  grea sypancake  griddle t hat  h ad one huges tr ip of baco n h eld aloft by  tw o very  t all forks  fo r a n et, ma y be. Th e griddle  w a s so s l ipperyt h at  she  slid like an ice sk a ter every time  she r an to m ake  ahit. On th eother side of th e b aco n  net was herbadminton o p pon ent th etro l l, who  just  h a ppe ned to look  a l ot like h er Aft e r Schoo l  Madrig al Clu b v oca l co a ch  a ndco n duc t or , M r . L ively, o nl yshort er.S t e l la h ittheshutt lecock, which  wa s ac t ual ly ashutt leco ck , and  it fl ew ov er  the bacon net,  and  over the  tr ol l's  h ead,a nd itlan ded  in the  surrou n din gt h i ck  lake of eggy panc ak e ba tter wit h a "p l op "a nd sankwi tha "b l u b-blu b-bl u b. "

"Uhhh !"

"Y o ulo se! Heh -h eh-heh .. . N owsingm e asong!"  command ed th e  troll. Therew ere maple-sug a rl o on s  onthe  pancake ba tter lake , an d  t hes un in  theli n ol e um sky was a gianteg g yolk  that  was really h uge and re a l l y far aw ay.T he troll wore a b acon- strip sunv isor, pu ffy p ancake s horts and g lossy te nni s s hoe s m a d eof fresh crea m e ry b ut ter.

" Wha t songsho uld  Isin g? "

"White  Christm as ." 
"W hit e Chr i stmas?"
" Onl ymak e iti ce."
"Ice? "

" Yo u' r e d reaming of a n Ic eCh rist mas ." 

"No  I'm not ."

"Ye s you are !""I a mno t!"

"Y OU ARE!"

"NO T! "

"ARE!"
" I A M NOTD R EAMING O F AN ICE—" Stella woket o the d ist ant w hini ng buzz o f c hainsa ws. She sa t up a nd ru bb edt h e sle e p  f rom  h er eyes an d tri ed to  m akesense o f what she saw. Th e  sp eedboat actua lly  loo k e dlik e  t h e s et for a  low-budget sci ence ficti on mo vie wheret woev il geni uses ha d col l apsed f rom exhau stion aft er  the i r  ca ffeine-fue led all- nighter o f  who- k no ws-wh atmischi ef . E mptyDr Pep p ercanswere s ca ttered  amon gthe ruin s of the CD player radi o thin g, an d t here wasthe wir eless tel egra phy sendin g a ndrecei vin g  appa ratu s  t hat reall y lo o ked morel ik e a r an dom collect i o n  of 
ed and...

#_Skedaddle

Under a_vast, shiny sky of_harvest gold_kitchen_linoleum, Stella_was_playing badminton with_a spatula racquet_on a giant, greasy_pancake griddle that_had_one huge strip of bacon held aloft by two very tall forks for a_net,_maybe. The_griddle_was_so slippery that she slid_like an ice skater every_time she_ran to make a hit. On the other_side_of the bacon_net was her badminton opponent the troll, who just_happened to look a lot like_her After School_Madrigal_Club_vocal coach and conductor,_Mr. Lively, only shorter. Stella hit_the shuttlecock, which was actually a_shuttlecock, and it flew over the bacon_net, and over the troll's head,_and it landed in the_surrounding thick_lake of eggy pancake batter_with a "plop"_and sank_with a "blub-blub-blub."

"Uhhh!"

"You_lose! Heh-heh-heh... Now sing me a_song!" commanded the_troll. There were maple-sugar loons on_the_pancake batter lake,_and_the_sun in_the linoleum sky_was_a giant_egg_yolk that was really huge and_really_far away. The troll wore a bacon-strip_sun visor, puffy pancake_shorts_and glossy tennis shoes_made of fresh creamery butter.

"What_song should I sing?"

"White Christmas."

"White Christmas?"

"Only_make it_ice."

"Ice?"

"You're dreaming_of an Ice Christmas."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are!"

"I am not!"

"YOU ARE!"

"NOT!"

"ARE!"

"I_AM NOT DREAMING OF AN ICE—"_Stella woke to the_distant whining_buzz_of chainsaws. She_sat_up and_rubbed the sleep from her eyes and_tried to_make sense of what she saw._The speedboat actually looked_like_the set for a low-budget science_fiction movie where two evil geniuses_had collapsed from exhaustion after_their_caffeine-fueled_all-nighter of who-knows-what mischief. Empty_Dr Pepper cans were scattered among_the ruins of_the CD player radio thing, and there_was_the wireless telegraphy sending and receiving_apparatus_that really looked more like a_random_collection_of