Apple of Discord: Chapter 2

You emerge in your home. Cat turns to you and asks, “You okay?”

You nod.

“Good. Take some time and catch your breath. I’m going home. I’ll teach you from there through the portal or BELCH or whatever you call it. Why don’t you try something more cerebral for now?

I know two camp instructors waiting for you.

Adele can give you some magical training. I know she wants to teach you about Tarot.

Joe B is our spoken word poetry champion. He can help you speak your truth.

Pick one, and I’ll see you for hand-to-hand after.”

Cat regards you thoughtfully. It looks as though something is agitating her, like she’s eager to tell you something. Just when you think she’s going to utter a philosophical warrior saying to help inspire you, she says, “I think I messed up the punchline back in that old building.”

“No. It was perfect, trust me.” You smile. “It was a bit punny, though.”

You can tell Cat has a bit of a perfectionist streak. She winces. “So, you really think it was that bad?”

“I didn’t say that. Not even close!” you say, shaking your head. 

“When you see Joe B, can you ask him for some new knock knock jokes or some fight related puns or something?” Cat asks. “He’s always got the best ones. Oh, and hey! I’ll keep an eye out for our pal Pontifex. All of your counselors and instructors will.”

“Thanks, Cat.” You give her a fist bump.

“I’ve got an F chord waiting for him.” Cat slams her fist into her hand to punctuate the threat with a sharp meaty slap.

“Okay, that one was dumb. Not even funny for a fighting, musical joke.” You scowl. “And the bar is low.”

Cat raises one eyebrow. “Is that a fret? I’m gonna pick up his TEMPO and smash him through a BAR!” She pantomimes picking up a body, you presume, and then throwing it through something else. Then she shadow boxes for a moment.

“Stop. You’re only hurting yourself, here,” you call out.

Cat turns and walks through the BELCH, yelling every once in a while.

“He’ll be de-composing!”

“He’s a trebled man!”

Then Cat is gone.