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Faboo!


by sara_mossflower

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Author's Note: this short story is a companion to the series' Windstorm and Firejewel. Although "Faboo!" deals with the same characters, reading the previous instalments is not absolutely vital to understanding the story. Without further ado, enjoy! :D

"AAAAAGH!!!!"

      I was jolted out of my chair by the insane screeching that was coming from Dayne's bedroom. The copy of Mage Spells Terzin had lent me lay open on the floor where I'd dropped it. I leaped up nimbly, leaving the discarded book and bounding down the hall to my friend's abode.

      Had a League assailant attacked her? Had she fallen off the apartment balcony? Had she been squashed by a large piece of furniture? I didn't know, and rampaged into the open room. "What's wrong?"

      "What do you mean, 'what's wrong'? LOOK!"

      The Island Zafara stood holding up what looked to me like a sweater that had been dunked in some kind of hair growth remedy - it was way too purple and fluffy for its own good. Dripping from the sleeve was a large dollop of sparkling silver nail polish, much to Dayne's dismay. She looked ready to cry, and maybe I was just insensitive, but it was something I didn't understand. "IT FELL OFF MY DRESSER AND SPILLED EVERYWHERE!!!"

      "Um… can't you wash it off?"

      She looked at me like I was a complete and utter fool. "NO! It's too FLUFFY! IT'LL NEVER BE PERFECT AGAIN!!!"

      I had no idea what to say to her - fashion crises were most definitely not my area of expertise. It turned out that I wasn't required to say anything at all, as Dayne was about to go off on a rant of her own.

      "I paid so much for that sweater, and I never even got a chance to wear it! Stupid nail polish company doesn't make the lids secure enough! Ugh…it was one of my favourite things like EVER!"

      There was a pause.

      "Uh…and what do you want me to do about it?"

      She shot me a perturbed glare, one that said, "clothes are the reason for my existence - don't joke about it."

      I sighed. "Um…maybe you should get out of the apartment. Y'know, go do something…get some fresh air?" I pondered why I'd chosen Dayne out of every friend I'd ever had to share an apartment with - although she was my best friend, the value she laid on material objects was the bane of my existence at most times. I'd asked her to consider a yard sale of some kind once, and she'd practically thrown a tantrum, like I was trying to get her to sell her own children or something just as crazy.

      She forlornly tossed the soiled garment onto her bedpost and mopped up the excess silver goo with a tissue, then grabbed a nearby teal handbag. "Fine," she sniffed, "I'll get out of here cuz you think I'm so crazy." She darted into the small foyer and opened the door wide. "Don't expect to see me before dinner!"

      I sighed, not offended or concerned in the least. Dayne was the most impractical, and at times the most sensitive person I knew. "She'll get over it all in five minutes," I muttered, and settled myself down in a chair, continuing to read from where I'd left off in my book.

          *

      Dayne stormed away from her home and upon exiting the building began jauntily skipping down the sidewalk; glad to be away from the fashion-insensitive White Zafara she called her roommate. She sighed in exasperation; she knew that Sisslio and her were complete opposites - he was a guy, she was a girl, he was calm and reserved, she was wild and fun loving. She always poked fun at him and his sense of humour wasn't as rampant as hers.

      She looked around at the busy city world she'd entered and decided that perhaps her roommate was right - it was good to get out of the house.

      And she knew exactly where she was going: her second home, Uni's Clothing.

      Dayne rampaged down the street, dancing past other anxious shoppers, tourists, joggers, and friends. Practically no one stared at her; everyone knew who she was: Dayne Riversong, the hopeless shopaholic.

      Finally, she was standing before her destination. She sighed contentedly and was about to walk in, when the fluorescent orange bristol board in the window caught her eye. She read the words slowly, each letter written in black marker in a chubby, curling font:

     Help Wanted!

     Uni's is currently hiring!

     If you think you've got what it takes, come in for an interview!

     Interview hours: 9:00am - 4:00pm NST

      Her eyes widened with interest. "Why not?" she muttered, and pushed the door open. At once, her attention wandered to a lavender tank top on the sales rack, adorned with glitter and the word "Spunk", but she ignored it for the time being and approached the Uni at the main counter.

      "Hi…" she began, about to address the sales pet by name, but then realizing that she didn't know it. "I'd like to schedule a job interview."

      The shop's owner squealed with delight. "Wow, y'know, that is like so great! I haven't got many like, applicants! Do you wanna like, come into my office and I can like, interview you?"

      "Don't I have to schedule a day and stuff?"

      "Like, no way - I don't have anyone coming in today, so my schedule is like, totally free. Like, Florence can take care of the shop while we talk. FLORENCE!!!"

      A rather decorated Disco Meerca bounced in from a back room. In addition to her funky, vibrant paint job, she was covered in jewellery and basically anything shiny. Each of her tiny ears appeared to be pierced in five places, with colourful, prismatic gems dangling from them. Her shirt was similar to the "Spunk" one Dayne had noticed, although hers was pink and said "Glam" instead.

      Florence lifted her tinted, rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses and answered the Uni. "Like, yeah?"

      "We've like, got an interviewee, so I'm gonna like, interview her!"

      "Like, awesome!"

      "I know, it's like, wow!"

      "Okay, like, good luck with the job, girl! You're like, one of our big customers aren't you? I think I've like, seen you around a lot."

      "That's me," Dayne replied with a smile. Although she didn't use the word "like" as often in everyday speech as these two did, she found that she'd developed a sense of camaraderie with them - like her, these girls knew the joys of a shopaholic's life, unlike Sisslio, Aly, and Terzin.

      Dayne followed the Uni into her office, which was the image of Florence, had Florence been an office. There were so many mirrors, fluffy bits, sparkles, posters, psychedelic-ness, and huggable things that the overall effect was very hard on the eyes. No wonder she's always wearing those sunglasses, Dayne thought. Aloud, she muttered, "I feel like a disco ball."

      The Uni cocked an eyebrow at her job applicant. "Um…that's like, cool…" She then turned to one of the steel shelves that lined the pink and purple walls and selected a second pair of jewelled sunglasses from a small rack of them. Next to the rack was a sparkling picture frame, which housed a photo of the Uni with a handsome Checkered male of her species. "That's like, Keegan. Don't we look like, like, an item? He's soooo cool!"

      "Heh heh, yeah," Dayne agreed weakly as she put on the glasses, not having any interest in boys. Well, she did, but only if they were involved with someone other than her. What could she say - she was nosy, simple as that.

      "Well, like sit down and we can, like start!"

      Dayne took her place on what appeared to be an inflatable plastic cube, filled with pompoms of varying hues. She bounced a little - it was comfy.

      "Okay," said the Uni, taking a lime green clipboard encrusted with stickers from her desk, which was covered in fluffy boas and pictures of Uni stallions. "Let's like, start." She flipped through fluorescent coloured papers until she found the sheet of questions she'd written up. "First question: what is your name?"

      "Dayne Riversong," declared Dayne with some enthusiasm. This was going to be easier than she thought if the questions were all straightforward like that one.

      "Coolness. Second question is like, where do you live?"

      "I've got an apartment down the street."

      "Awesome. Like, third question: What are your hobbies?"

      "Shopping, eating, and going on…uh…excursions with my friends." Dayne wasn't too sure about the wording of the last one. Then again, she wasn't about to say "fighting off an evil resurrected warrior girl and almost dying several times."

      "Great - that shopping one is like, a big plus! Fourth question: have you had any previous work experience?"

      Dayne thought about it - now these questions were getting more serious. Her dad had once owned an ice-lolly stand, but she hadn't really helped him - just eaten the leftover popsicles. She'd only been eight or something anyway. "Uh… I used to walk my elderly neighbour's Spardel everyday when I was twelve or something… She only paid like twenty Neopoints a day though - a bit of a cheapskate. Oh, I babysat these two babies a few years ago before I got my apartment…it was this little beast of a Shoyru and this Aisha who wouldn't shut up until you fed her sugar. Haku and Foo-something… I don't remember. But ya, does that stuff count as work experience?"

      The Uni giggled. "It like, most certainly does! That's fabulous, like giving back to the community! Okay, this is going soooo well! Fifth question: tell me about yourself."

      Dayne paused. "…That's not really a question."

      The Uni looked at the paper. "Ohemgee, you are like so right!"

      "And didn't I already tell you about myself?" Everyone knew that "Tell me about yourself" was the most difficult question, or rather statement, an interviewer could ask. It was so vague, as though they wanted you to give your life's history in a single sentence. Plus, as far as logic went, Dayne thought that this should have been the first question to answer.

      "…Do I still have to answer it?"

      The Uni was silent for a moment. "I am like, so confused. This is like a tragedy - I like don't get my own questions!"

      "Um…we can skip it then." The truth was, Dayne just wanted to avoid thinking up a good answer. Maybe the ditz would let it slide.

      "Can we? You are like so nice. Ya, let's skip that one. Everyone else who's been interviewed is all impatient, like, 'what's the next question?' and I'm all like, 'Ew.'"

      "Some people," Dayne remarked with false disbelief, shaking her head slightly.

      "Like, exactly. Okay, your fifth and last question is: if you could be any kind of fruit, what kind would you be?"

      The Island Zafara sat weirded out and bewildered. What kind of question was that? What did it have to do with the job? As irrelevant as it sounded, Dayne knew that she was expected to come up with some kind of answer. But what would she say? Cloudberries were all squishy and soft, and if she was a Combfruit it would be clear that she cared about grooming and self-image… and normal fruits like strawberries and pineapples were too yummy to not consider! Her mind whirled with all different kinds of fruits. How could such a nonsensical question be so hard to answer? She went over every option she knew of, but struggled to come to a conclusion. "Um…uh…"

      "Like, which fruit?"

      "I'd be…um…a…"

      "Like?"

      "Can you stop saying 'like'? I need to focus!"

      "But I like, gotta know what fruit."

      "Arg! What's the point of this question anyway?"

      "Um…" The Uni looked at her papers again. "It's to like, test your I.Q."

      Dayne just stared at her. "Starfruit."

      "Like, what?"

      "I'd be a starfruit because they're weird, shiny, pretty, and greenish."

      "But you're not weird, shiny, pretty, or greenish."

      "You think there's gonna be a fruit exactly like me?"

      The Uni shrugged. "Like, I dunno."

      "This is so dumb," Dayne muttered under her breath.

     "Okay, um… I like can't hire you now."

     "Huh? Why?"

     "Because you're like, not having fun with the interview. If you're gonna be a sales pet here, you've gotta be happy like all the time!"

     "All the time?"

     "Totally."

     Dayne didn't say anything.

     "I guess we're like, done then! Thanks for like, trying out for the position, but I think you'd be better off as a shopper."

     Just cuz I found the fruit question ridiculous? thought Dayne, mentally shrugging. "Okay, then. Mind if I shop around here before I go?"

     "Like, not at all! We're like, here to meet all your fashionable needs!" The Uni followed this up with a cheesy grin.

     Dayne made a point of buying the "Spunk" shirt she'd had her eye on, and also found herself selecting a pair of rhinestone-studded sunglasses. She brought her purchases to the cash register, where Florence ensured they were paid for.

     Snatching up the pink and blue plastic bag, adorned with the trademark wings on either side of the words "Uni's Clothing", Dayne exited the store, waving at the two salesgirls as she departed.

     *

     I'd almost finished my book when Dayne barged back into the apartment, carrying, to my surprise, only a single Uni's bag. Usually I'd accompany her and return with about a dozen.

     "Hi," I called as I laid the book down. I hoped that she wasn't still mad at me for being insensitive about her trivial nail polish spill. "Where'd you go?" I then realized that this was the stupidest thing I could've asked.

     "Where do you think?" She disappeared into her bedroom, reappearing moments later, clad in a new lavender tank top. She was also sporting some sunglasses that were too sparkly for me to be comfortable with.

     "Oh," I said. "That stuff looks…uh…" I glanced at her shirt. "Spunky."

     "I know! This'll replace that stupid sweater!"

     I didn't bother mentioning that you would wear a tank top and a sweater in completely different temperatures, knowing that she'd just ignore me. I got up from my chair and decided that we should eat something for lunch. Contrary to her earlier words, Dayne hadn't returned after dinner. "What do you wanna eat?" I inquired, but she'd gone back into her room.

     "What?"

     "I asked what you wanted for lunch."

     "Oh." She walked out again, a package of chocolate chip cookies in her grasp. She's already shoved a large number of them into her mouth.

     I looked at her with a combination of amusement, annoyance, and wonder. Dayne Riversong never ceased to amaze me.

     She raised her eyebrows challengingly. "Don't say a word or I'll ask what fruit you'd be!" With that she retreated to her room once more, no doubt stuffing her face.

     I was simply weirded out by the fruit thing. Shrugging, I made my way to our kitchen, deciding on a sandwich for myself.

The End

Author's Note: This was actually based on a true story! A friend of my math teacher has a daughter who, during a job interview, was asked the question "If you could be any kind of fruit, what would you be?" I was inspired and couldn't pass up the chance of posing the same question to Dayne! XD

 
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