Chooks

Cicra was shaking as she read the invite. The evil forces where getting cleverer by the minute.. so much so, that now even SHE, with her IQ score being at par with that of a bat that never slept upside down, could notice it.

The invite said Cicra was to go to a chooks' party. Clearly, to put her mentally at ease. It said there was going to be food. Clearly, to keep her hands busy (her brain was always on standby so no need to devise any complicated concoctions to alienate that).And, because only chickens where allowed, her faithful, cleverer, stronger assistant Le Mon, had to stay behind. CLEARLY, to strip her of any possible survival.

It also said that failure to attend would result in Super Cicra being put last on the list of threats for the evil forces and Cicra would not have that! Her pride and reputation was at stake here!

3 hours later Cicra emerged from her cave-like (in the cluttered, smelly, damp decor, not in the geographical placement) habitat dressed in a lime-green frill shirt, and what looked like a back-firing space-shuttle of a skirt. Bright red lipstick finished the opera that put Munch's SCREAM in an eclipse shadow.

read and you'll see what sharp teeth and drool have to do with summer and a seaside promenade.

Cicra walked lazily along the promenade.. the sun was shining, the sea was gleaming in the said sun's rays, the clouds were gliding by carelessly in a warm summer's breeze, occasional bits and pieces flew across the empty road and caught fire on the hot tarmac, the silence was tangible, the clock on the church struck 11.00am on this still extremely silent monday morning...



Cicra stopped. She had sensed something was wrong, and looking around she saw... that she had forgotten to wear her (horrific) earrings.

"Darn it,"..



and the utternace of those feeble words dried the last few drops of spit that she had in her mouth, causing her to dryly drool for a freezing cold, fresh, crystal clear bottle of mineral water.



So she delicately walked over to the kiosk, only massacaring her left knee against one wooden bench, and leaving the right one intact. No sooner had she walked there that she realized it was closed..at 11.00am, in the middle of a hot summer. And only then did it strike her that, in fact, there was no one around.. not a soul could be seen in all directions, as far as the eyes could stretch. And this was a tourist area, full of shops and restuarants and pubs and banks.



Out came the intergalactic amulsifier of partially liquidized radio waves.. her super special mobile phone. But Le Mon didn't answer.



She would have considred visiting his house if it weren't for an ear-scorching ROOOOAAAR and the sound of footsteps (gigantic ones) getting closer and closer, sending tremors across the surface of the threatened promenade up till Cicra's throat.



The footsteps got closer and closer, and the roaring louder and louder, until finally and unfortunately a massive dinasourish head popped out from behind one of the tall apartement buildings. It was ugly, even for Cicra's standards, and she could already smell its atrouscious bad breadth from so far.



Far was a useless word in this case, because the distance was covered in a slipping-of-a-sweat-droplet-off-a-forehead.



And did Cicra move an inch? ..



She had instead forgotten her nationality, which was a heroic (<-- pun) feat in so little time. Terror, it was later discovered, was the fastest traveller existing.. contrary to the popular belief that put light at the top of the list. I.t. (Ignatius Tremendes) was standing in his full height (which was approximately very high) above Cicra. Towering perpendicularly... muscles tensed, claws clutched, teeth numerous and sharp and a glassy look.



Needless to say, Cicra was still frozen to the spot. It was only when a drop of dinasaur drool which would have filled the Aswan High Dam in a time of complete draught, slid off his 23rd-from-right, upper canine and gathered gravitational speed towards our heroine that the little that was left of her brain (it wasn't the dinasaur's doing), reacted energatically to the approaching humidity and sped off, dragging the body behind.



TO BE CONTINUED, soon hopefully

cicra, the return

Super Cicra was back from her holiday in the Bahamas. Why the sojourn had prolonged itself to more than the stipulated 7-days, (precisely to 3 weeks and 2 days) was a mystery which Cicra was determined to keep to herself until death did her apart.

"You got lost" stated Le Mon as soon as she stepped into her bedroom.
He could almost see the shock waves radiating out of her nostrils, and the questionmarks and exclamation marks hanging in the air around her lightning-striken hairstyle.
" You left your map and your toiletpaper on your bed, and I really don't want to think what replaced the latter. And CNN reported an abonimable sand-woman on the islands. Didn't you notice the drastic lack of human life-forms?? "

"Well, there was this friendly ape-like guy, very little guy in there infact, I thought he was speaking Spanish! How on earth could I know he was speaking Monkey?? I know neither of the languages!"

"I want to be invisible!!"
"But Super Cicra, think before you decide. You have one last wish and you are going to waste it like the other two?! Can't you think of something better than a fake Louis Vitton purse, a red catsuit and being invisible?! Don't you want any money??"

The genie ended his plea with a sob. Some heros where not meant to think after all. He wished he was on the other side of the situation. He'd be at the Bahamas, smoking Cuban cigars and watching a regiment of brazillian brunettes sunbathing in no time. But, life was hard, and he had a living to earn, and so, with a flick of the finger Cicra was gone..

or rather, she was still there, but you could hardly notice her. There was just a very faint blur at the outline of her invisible self. The rest was, well, invisible. The genie was sucked back into the lamp, and Cicra was fast asleep in no time at all. As long as invisibilty didn't effect her eating and her sleeping, she yawned, she was quite ok with it.

7 o'clock.
Air-raides, very realistic bomb shells exploding, an ear scorching scream...
Cicra still snored. Not even this alarm had managed. It left the room in silence and went to search for a bottle of pills to swollow and end his life's greatest shame.

After a while Cicra decided it was the right temperature and atmospheric pressure to rise out of bed, and so she did, knocking over the lamp, the lamp- shade and shattering both with a nasty smash to the ground. When she had managed a safe return from the kitchen, having emtied half the contents of the fridge in her nuclear-bomb shelter stomach, she slipped into her uniform and lazily and of course, clumsily, glided out of the window.

She landed in class, and for the very first time managed to get to her desk without attracting the Professors attention. Then she turned round to Le Mon, who sat behind her, and asked for a mirror, but alas! he ignored her completely! She stood out of her chair, and ignoring the fact that the Professor wasn't screaming his head off at seeing her stand out of her place, finshed inside Le Mon's bag for the mirror. When she finally found it and looked into it...

It suddenly dawned on her that the events of the previous evening where not a dream! She was invisible! She was suddenly also aware of all the students in class racing, terrified, out of class. Of course.. all they had seen was Le Mon's bag suddenly opening and a mirror gliding out of his bag. In normal circumstances people would just have looked terrified at the knowledge of Le Mon carrying a mirror, today was a threat.

"Now let me see. How do I switch this off. She searched all over her body, in her smelly arm pits. for any button or lever or whatever would switch off invisibilty but to no avail. She was doomed to be invisible forever!

Ċiċra woke up feeling like she had slept for months. She'd only been sleeping for a week, time enough for her superheroine battery to recharge completely. She walked slowly to the bathroom mirror to see the state of her own self after 7 days of awes0me relaxations and dreams.
"I need to start working more, and waste this energy more often.." she grumbled, barely understanding herself ( not a surprise after not having talked for so long).

Now you'd probably remember having glimpsed at the box of other super heros and reading that their battery runs low..and eventually out.. after approximately a month. Batman's and Superman's run out every other minute.. that's why we never actually get to see them around. In Ċiċra's case, this happened for the first time in 21 years, need I explain why?

Anyway, it was time for her to set off and see what remained of the world after such a lenghty break..eeqhemm..i mean.. absence. She walked over to the furthest side of the room and sprinted towards the window, and.. BAAANG!

"*&$*"(!_)("(€)_)().. I knew I had forgotten something! )"(_€)*(€*$(*€(*&(__)*@ "(notice the € sign featuring here..)

She opened the window, and again, sprint and ..OUT she was in the morning air. Her flying had not been effected by the small nap at all! It was still clumsy, jerky and very dangerous for people having baths on the opposite side of the continent.

Her trip was very brief indeed. Soon enough (and no one was expecting otherwise) she was clinging off a tree branch looking like she'd suddenly felt the urge to indulge in a very lively and aggressive lettuce. Then.. BLUM to the ground with a tump that had the Krakatoa burp a cloud of toxic lava fumes.

The thought of flying again didn't cross the very limited parking lot behind her forehead. So off she set with a nice, steady pace towards her assistant (who's name escaped her..) 's house.
"Hello you, I have a problem."
" Oh, err..good morning Ċiċra, how can I be of help?"
"My nose is sooo cold, I just can't get it warm!"
"Of course it's cold. Your nose would be cold even in summer 'cause by the time you manage to warm it up, it would be Winter again!"

..and she still didn't notice how strange his accent was...