Camille, you probably won't like this as it has the twins in it, though, whenever I post writing you usually seem to be not-reading at the moment, so, you know. Whatever works, though. I'm posting it anyway, so there!
GO FORTH AND READ! (I LIKE CAPITALIZATION! ^__^):
“Yes, yes, they’re dead. The end. Sorry. We’re their kids, so on, so on. Ramble, ramble, blah-dy, blah, blah, and so on for a hundred years. Sob, sob, sob, I’m so sorry for your loss, blah, blah, blah, death,” Till said. “And that about wraps up our afternoon.”
Wrevor grinned as he walked down the long driveway next to his brother towards their house, their shadows stretching out long behind them in the late afternoon sun. “That and when we tried to open the letter and it sprayed pepper spray in our faces,” he pointed out. “I wonder how that even worked.”
Till held up the offending envelope. “Yeah, stupid piece of paper,” he muttered. “I wonder what it’s for?”
“Probably yet another thing we have to sign,” Wrevor rolled his eyes. “I’m convinced I have carpal tunnel syndrome.”
Till snorted and opened the door. “I tend to doubt that.”
Wrevor put his hand right in his brother’s face. “Look at it! There’s something wrong with this picture!”
“Other than the fact you just shoved your hand up my nose?”
“Yes, other than that.”
Their footsteps echoed along the walls of the large house, sounding somewhat solemn. It seemed as if a lot had changed, yet the house was exactly the same besides what their parents had given away in the will.
“Well, I guess this is all ours now,” Till muttered, looking around.
“It basically was in the first place,” Wrevor pointed out, fiddling with the envelope.
“How much do you think we can get for some of this stuff on E-Bay?” Till asked, poking at a dusty vase sitting on a small table in the entry way, next to the stairs.
“Hmmm?” Wrevor asked, finally picking open the edge of the envelope with his nail.
“So, are we really having a party, or were you just kidding abou-“
Suddenly, Wrevor got the letter open and quickly dropped it as a voice came from it saying, “Identification?”
“Woah,” they chorused.
“What’d you do?” Till asked.
Wrevor shrugged. “I opened it.”
“Identification correct. Scanning area,” said the envelope and there was the noise of something being scanned, though nothing was visible.
“Wicked,” they chorused again.
“Area secure. Initiating Operation TTR40-55B,” the envelope continued. “Have a nice day!”
“I think we should step back now,” Till announced and they both took a step back. Just in time it seemed as the floor seemed to slide open, revealing a dark tunnel leading down to who knew where.
Wrevor peered at it, listening as the envelope slid down into the shadow-filled hole. “Do you think it goes to hell? I mean, I’m guessing this has something to do with our parents and that would explain a lot.”
“I don’t think so,” Till whispered, peering into it too. “But you know what I do know?”
“What?”
“It’s bound to be more interesting than up here.”
“On three?”
“Yep.”
“One…”
“Two…”
“Three!” they said together and leapt down into the opening.
They fell right down, down, down, into the pitch blackness. It seemed as if they were going down some kind of slide, though they had no idea where it could possibly lead.
“Why am I having Alice in Wonderland flashbacks?” Till called through the air which was whizzing by quite quickly and was making it surprisingly hard to hear.
“Because this is terribly ironic!” Wrevor called back, his eyes glowing a light grey in the darkness.
Finally the tunnel came to an end, depositing them on their bottoms on a cold metal floor. They quickly got up and looked around, but the room was pitch black, just like the hole down which they had just come and it was impossible to see anything besides some large shapes looming in the background.
Plus, the way they had come had disappeared, and, despite it looking almost impossible to climb back up (though they were the two guys who had managed to get the lubricant that was supposed to be to get the croquet ball out of the chandelier stuck to the ceiling and then pried it off using a roll of duct tape and a spoon) had looked to be their only exit.
“Er…what now?” Till asked, feeling around in the darkness.
“Oh! Thank you for that, but I would prefer stayed within a 5 inch perimeter of that area of me, if you don’t mind,” Wrevor announced promptly.
“Sorry…do you think we’re stuck down here? Because I’d rather not die in a dark hole,” Till muttered.
“Exactly,” Wrevor agreed. “Maybe. Er… lights?”
Nothing happened.
“Er…well, that didn’t work.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Maybe-“
Suddenly, a glowing light came from their left. They glanced over quickly and looked over at each other, finally able to see their own faces as the small light was illuminating them, before continuing over towards it.
“If I’m dead, I’m going to be really unhappy.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to be stuck with Mum and Sir again.”
“Good point.”
The light was actually coming from a giant monitor that seemed to have just turned on. Suddenly, words appeared on it and they peered at it closer. It began to speak in the doctor’s voice.
“Hello boys. I’m glad you followed my directions and opened the envelope once you got home. If you had left it too long it would have self-destructed,” said the voice. “Let me get my picture up here.”
And on the screen, appeared the same man’s face who had talked to them earlier. “There we go. Anyways, I have something to tell you and you’re going to think it’s a trick but it’s not. This is really important…just…just go with it.”
The twins both sunk down onto the floor. “Whatever you say, Mr. Screen-guy,” said Till.
“I didn’t know this was down here,” Wrevor muttered, glancing around. “And we’ve been everywhere in this house. Everywhere.”
“You’re parents had a second profession along with running the airplane company,” Chet continued, lacing his fingers together. “That was just their cover. They were actually secret agents.”
The twins’ eyebrows both rose toward their curly hair. Then they burst out laughing. “What?” Till demanded. “Are you…nuts????”
“Mum…and Sir…agents??? What are you on and where can I get some of it?” Wrevor asked, breathlessly.
The doctor’s brow furrowed, though they doubted he could see or hear them and guessed that this was all pre-recorded. “I know you won’t believe me, but this place is proof. Computer? Lights please.”
“Voice identification accepted. Turning on lights,” said a computerized voice from somewhere above, sounding a lot like the one from the envelope.
“Oh, see he can turn the lights on,” Wrevor muttered unhappily but soon shut up when Till elbowed him.
The lights everywhere flipped on one by one, illuminating the previously dark room. All around, the twins were surrounded by rooms, and halls, and computers and technology and…weapons.
“What the…?” Till asked, eyes widening and turning green.
“I…but how?” Wrevor asked the computer.
“All this time when you thought they were gone,” the doctor continued, smiling wryly. “They were really off doing missions.”
The twins looked at each other, exchanging a look that said, “Just go with it. It could end up being a fun ride,” silently accepting the impossible, as they had learned to do quite early in life, despite the odds being totally against it.
“I don’t believe they would do that, but whatever,” Till muttered, looking slightly miffed.
“Who do they work for? CSI? FBI?” Wrevor asked eagerly. “And what have we got to do with it?”
The twins weren’t sure why they were continuing to talk to the computer despite it probably being a recorded message, but, you know, all things considered, it wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened that day.
“Your parents worked for the UCBI,” he explained. “Meaning the Undercover Bureau of Investigation. This agency is international and has never and never will be involved with the government. We’re our own little separate thing.”
The twins nodded.
“But, sadly, (The twins scoffed.) now that they are dead, we’re missing two agents and their team,” said the doctor, matter-of-factly, looking deadly serious.
“Their team?” asked the twins.
“Their team being the 6 other people who worked with them on missions. Our agency is made up of many teams who we send up on many different missions around the world,” said the doctor. “But when your parents died, the team fell apart and we had to wipe their memories. So, for your mission, if you choose to accept it, you could choose some team members.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Why does this feel like a crossover of James Bond and Spy Kids?” Till whispered.
“Because it kind of is,” Wrevor muttered back.
“What’s our mission?” Till asked.
“And why does it feel like this is not a recording?” Wrevor asked, cryptically.
“Because it isn’t,” the doctor grinned. “I’m communicating from my top secret destination somewhere in the UK.”
“Woah!” they chorused. “Wicked!”
The doctor laughed. “Yes. And your mission will be revealed to you once you bring back a team.”
“Huh?” they asked.
“Get together a team of as many as 8 to as little as 2 people. Bring them back here. Then we’ll talk,” the doctor winked and the screen went black.
Till and Wrevor looked at each other, cocking their heads, then stood up and walked around, examining everything. There seemed to be a training room, and a rec room, and quite a couple other rooms, along with many computers and radars, beeping on continuously in the main area.
“Now the question is,” Till said, sliding down on the floor again, scooching towards the wall and putting his legs up vertically against so he was in an ‘L’ shape. “Is this a joke, or is this uncle we never knew we had telling the truth?”
“Well,” Wrevor said, arranging himself next to his brother in the same position and staring up at the high ceiling. “If this is a trick, it’s a pretty damn elaborate one, and it’s us saying that.”
“Yeah, fair enough,” Till agreed. “I just can’t imagine our parents-“
“The ones who left us home alone as soon as they could, or with a sitter-“
“-and never gave a damn when we did anything; be it good or bad-“
“-and ran one of the largest inter-world airplane companies in the world-
“-and were also world renowned for having the largest sticks up their arses ever-“
“-would ever actually have a second job as spies,” Wrevor concluded in bewilderment.
They were silent for a minute.
Till finally spoke up. “Who are we kidding? If this is real then it’s worth a shot right?” he asked.
Wrevor grinned widely and agreed, “Yeah, I think so. It’s better than running the company.”
“Which would probably be in chaos in a week if we ever tried anyway,” Till pointed out.
“Exactly. Letting us run anything is never a good idea,” Wrevor said.
“So…what do you say?” Till asked, licking his palm and holding out his hand. “Want to give it a go?”
“Is the pope Catholic?” Wrevor responded, licking his own hand and grasping his brother’s in agreement.
“Now we have to find a ‘team’ or whatever,” Till proposed, wiping his hand on his trousers. “And quickly because all my blood is rushing to my head.”
“At least it’s not rushing the other way,” Wrevor said slyly.
Till grinned. “I think I’d actually rather have it rushing the other way,” Till reasoned, sitting up straight.
“Yeah,” Wrevor agreed, sitting up also. “But you know what?”
“What?”
“I think I know the perfect people for the job.”
“Oh, I see what you mean.”
“Do you still have your cell on you?”
“Yes,” Till dug around in his pocket and handed it over. “Here.”
“Perfect.”
“Now I’m kind of glad we had the funeral here.”
“Ditto.”
*ELSEWHERE; AROUND 2:13 AM*
There was a sound. It kind of sounded like the alarm clock, but not really. It was a ringing sound. He realized that the phone was ringing. He also realized that it was way too early for the phone to be ringing.
“Ugh,” Terrence groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. “Why the hell is phone ringing???”
There was a muffled noise from next to him. “I don’t know.”
“Is that your phone?” he demanded.
“No, I think it’s the landline.”
“Who is calling at-what time is it? At this ungodly hour,” Terrence muttered, trying to get a look at the clock.
“2:13. And I guess I’ll get it.” There was some noise as the phone seemed to be knocked off its holder and onto the ground before being picked up. “Yeah? Hello?”
“It’s on your side,” Terrence pointed out. “Who is it?” he asked, crawling across the bed sleepily to peer at the caller ID, which said, ‘The Twins.’ “Aha…”
“I’ll put it on speaker…” There was a beep as the button for speaker phone was pushed.
“Okay,” Terry muttered. “I’m awake now anyway. Hey, guys, what’s up?”
“Greetings!” said the voice on the other end brightly. “Long time, no call, how have you been?”
“It’s 2 in the morning,” Terrence grumbled. “Can we cut to the chase please?”
There was rustling on the other end as an identical voice announced, “’kay then, Sam, Terry, can you meet us somewhere in about an hour?”
(ELSEWHERE; AROUND 2:27 AM)
The phone rang, quite loudly actually.
Being right next to her ear, Tori naturally fell right out of bed and bumped her head on the bedside table trying to get up. She fumbled around with the phone for a minute before finally picking up, rubbing her head. “Hello?” she asked, glancing at the clock.
Who’s calling at 2 in the freaking morning? she thought.
“Hello Tee-tee,” said Till. “How are you?”
“In pain,” she answered, still rubbing at her head as she tried to scramble back up into the warm, squishiness of her bed. “What do you need?”
“We have a request,” Wrevor answered. “Do you remember the park we met you in about a month ago?”
“Yeah?”
“One hour. Meet us there? And could you bring Virgil along?”
(ELSEWHERE YET; 2:43 AM)
David picked right up, squishing the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she worked her thumbs, vaporizing yet another opponent on the screen. “You’re go for David,” she announced. “Who’s calling?”
“Little bumblebee,” Till announced. “We need you.”
“Ah, the creepy British twins,” David answered, trying to operate the controller with one hand while taking a bite of her Cheerios with the other. “This is sudden.”
“Not in that way,” Wrevor muttered. “We mean we need you for a…job of sorts.”
“What? Do you need me to crawl in somewhere small and get something again?” she demanded. “Because I still have nightmares about that.”
“No,” Till interrupted. “Though that was kind of funny. It’s a really awesome kind of job.”
“But we need to meet you somewhere in less than an hour,” Wrevor was audibly tapping his watch into the phone. “In the park. You know which one.”
“I’m in,” David agreed. “Just let me finish this level.”
“Perfect,” they responded. “See you then.
Blah, blah, blah,-Alice
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