*A Blue Lupe is sitting on a porch swing with a Manjeer on her lap* Hey, what it is, Neopian? I’m Shoba the Blue Lupe, master of Neoschool and art! The Manjeer is Vermont, master of... well, he’s the master of... obliviousness. I bet you wonder why I would keep such a dimwitted Petpet. So you really wanna know how I got him? Well...
“Mom, where’s my leather coat? I’ve got to Ye Olde Petpets before they run out of Petpets!” I ran into the kitchen, crashing into my younger sister Westy eating a banana at the counter.
“Shoba, stop running in the house, it’s hazardous!” My mother scolded me from the stove, where she was making Fluffy Faerie Pancakes.
“Sorry, but if I don’t get a Petpet TODAY, I’ll be the laughing stock of Neoschool! I’m already a nerd, if you haven’t realized.” I strode past her and into the hall closet. Hanging there on a hook as blue as the sky on a clear day, was my ebony jacket. I began to fuss with the sleeves, angrily trying to zip it as I raced out the front door of my Neohome.
I pounded into the street of Neopia Central. Today was definitely a day for getting a Petpet. The town square was full of Petpets, being carried in their loving owner’s arms or walking not too far behind the lucky possessor.
Gosh, I HAD to get a Petpet. But not here, no. I thought Petpet right in town were too common (no offense to those of you with Petpets of Neopia Central). I mean, Griffin, my best friend who’s a handsome desert Eyrie, has a Ghost Cuttlebot. I want in on that action! Since Mom thought it was unsafe for my sister to go up to the Space Station, I had to do my searching here on Neopia. Also, I can’t swim, so Maraqua was out of the picture. Meridell was the perfect area. The Petpets accessible were tough enough and I thought they were super charming, even the ones Westy called scary, but she’s simply eight, so what would she know?
When I arrived in Meridell, I almost tripped over smaller Neopets trying to get into the Petpet shop. The merchant running the joint gladly showed me the Petpets. The Petpets were all in a small sea green pen, all separated by species. It was love then. No, not with the Ixi running the shop. I’m talking about one of the Petpets.
He was sitting in a corner, his face to the pen wall. I absentmindedly went over the fence barrier to the thing. He still wouldn’t turn. A Whinny to my side gnawed on my jeans. It was ignored. Finally, when I was within two inches of the cute little green thing, he turned, revealing a green and blond face. His sapphire eyes met my brown ones, creating a tender trance between us. I just had to get him. Problem: the cost was 7,000 NP. I had 8,000 NP on me, but Mom would be rather irritated if I spent it on a Petpet.
Soon, I understood that I had to haggle. To make a long story short, it ended with me taking home an empty NP sack and a little Manjeer.
Mom was in the living room sitting on the blue sofa, reading Love, Laughs, Xweetoks. Westy was making her Krawk soldiers eat teacakes. Phew, no one heard me come in. But, as you will learn to know, I am usually wrong when it comes to assuming things.
“Shoba, did you get a Petpet, or did you fail to?” Wow, my mom’s good. I halted on my way to the staircase. All things moving stopped and watched. Not a leaf outside shook in the wind.
“Um, yeah, I got one. He’s....” By then, I suppose, I should have come to know that the Manjeer was no longer within my grasp.
“MANJEER!!!” Turns out my sister had taken the poor Petpet from me. Darn.
“So, SWEETHEART, how much did this Manjeer cost you, hm?” Once again, I highly regret how well my mother questions you and figures everything out without you knowing.
Well, just to let you know, I refused to give up so fast.
“Please, Mom, let me keep him! I cleaned out my NP sack! Please, don’t sell him or take him back!” OK, three seconds ago I kind of lied to you.
“We’ll see, Shoba. But for now, take him upstairs. And I guess you might as well name him now,” Mom said.
I was really overjoyed because naming a Petpet in our family meant it was to be attached to you forever, except for cousin Marnikk having, like, twenty Petpets before he had the one he has now... but anyway, on to the name, shall we?
Okay, how many pets do you know with a Manjeer named Vermont? Yeah, zero. So, since (if you remember from the beginning) I desired a different Petpet so I could show him/her/it off so everyone would be so jealous. Ah, me and my crazed plots.
It occurred to me that Vermont was really weird when I awoke the next morning. He was just sitting there on the windowsill. With a green face to the glass, I think he believed his reflection was another Manjeer. Shaking my head, I carried him downstairs with me to the table. I ate quickly because, more than usual. I couldn’t wait to get to Neoschool.
“Shoba, hold on! I can’t catch up!” Westy complained as I sprinted to school.
“Get longer legs!” I know that sounds unreasonable, but I was jittery from excitement.
I don’t know about other Neoschools, like the ones in Maraqua, but mine allows you to bring your Petpet to school, as long as they behave. Vermont seemed happy to be lead on a leash. He pranced behind me, his eyes looking everywhere. Oh, was everyone going to be jealous! They’d probably make me---er, us---the most popular Petpet and Neopet pair out there! Bliss, I say.
I entered my Neoschool classroom with gusto. Griffin was the first to come up to me.
“Wow, Shoba, nice Manjeer! He’s so cute! What’s his name?” Griffin’s Cuttlebot, Mostly Ghostly, sniffed (I think) Vermont cheerfully.
“Griffin, this is Vermont. Vermont---,” I had to stop in the middle of my introduction to notice that Vermont had gotten out of his collar. He was playing with Bubbles’ Island Whinny Kimi.
“OMG, get that filthy ugly Manjeer away from my precious little Kimi.” Bubbles, the Skunk Kyrii, was running to her Whinny in an angry rage.
“Excuse me, but that filthy Manjeer is mine, Bubbles.” I went to pick up my Manjeer and he slipped away from me. What happened next I really didn’t expect.
Vermont crashed into the wall, sending all of the paintings to the floor. Mostly Ghostly jumped to the ground and followed Vermont. The two were now destroying the classroom, creating a huge gang of Petpets as they went. BAM. Down went the teacher’s desk. BOOM. Well, the art table didn’t survive, nor did the mirror.
By the time we all caught up with our Petpets, the whole room was demolished. Even worse, our teacher, Ms. Tonufo, had just walked in.
I was sent home early. Vermont, wrapped on my coat, was looking up at me with gloomy blue eyes.
“I cannot believe you, Shoba! Letting your Petpet of your sight, getting into trouble... I’m so ashamed.” My mom is not very good at making you feel better.
“But I didn’t mean for him to get loose! And Bubbles called him a filthy, ugly--”
“I don’t CARE!! Tomorrow, he goes!” my mother yelled.
I scrunched into my seat, knowing that Vermont would have no idea what was going on. I normally would try begging, but this time, it was of no use. My first chance at a Petpet, soiled. And I did the destroying.
“Shoba, why are you glaring at the wall?” Westy was bothering me again later that afternoon.
“I’m not glaring at the wall, just thinking hard,” I answered.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Oy, if you really want to know, Mom’s going to sell Vermont tomorrow.” I tried to keep my upset emotions out of my voice, but I guess that didn’t work.
“Oh, Shoba, I’m sorry! What if we convinced her to change her mind?” See, this is what I love about Westy. She’s positive no matter what. Like that time I got my tail caught in my zipper... ahem, moving on.
Sadly, I had to explain that nothing would work, just to give up the entire production. Vermont, as of the next day, would be out of our lives forever. Like any sad part in a movie (in this case, the movie of my life), it starts to rain. Of course, as we all know, rain leads to thunder and thunder’s follower is lightning.
I was never of big fan of thunder. Being a Lupe, if you were listening at the beginning, I have sensitive hearing. Now do the math: Lupe+ LOUD thunder=... pain in a million ways. I covered my ears. The sound of the thunder was like a thousand plates collapsing onto the ground below. Westy, being a Shoyru, even though her ears aren’t visible, was irritated by the sound as well.
When Vermont walked in dragging a T-shirt (don’t ask me why, I don’t know), he saw us crouched on the floor in pain. Vermont dropped his shirt and ran over to us, and in the process knocked over the lamp.
“Thank you, Vermont. Now it’s dark too!” I scolded sarcastically.
But the way Vermont looked at me, I felt bad. His blue eyes seemed to be other than blank emotion for once. It was almost like, like, he had a THOUGHT in his empty head. What it was, I would find out. Of course, I was too mesmerized by his eyes to do anything anyway.
Vermont squirmed out of my grip and to the floor again. This time, he got up on his hind legs and tottered around for a moment. He landed with a soft THUD. You might think that would've just added pain, but it took our minds off the noise for the time being. He started up again, wobbling on an unsteady leg and tripping over my toy chest.
After a while, we entirely forgot about the thunder and lighting. And before we knew it, the storm was over and our mother figure was standing at the door.
“Well,” commented my mom. I had no idea what that meant.
Okay, on to the next morning!
When I rose the next morning, to my surprise, Vermont was still there. After I got after that shock, there came a new one. Instead of just an empty corner, there sat a Blue Moon Petpet Bed. And a Veepsa Petpet Bowl with a Squeaky Moach Toy adjacent to it. I shook Westy awake.
“Westy, get up! Mom is fooling with my mind by buying another Manjeer! GET UP!” I know it’s rude to wake someone up at 4:00 A.M, but I was really scared.
“Shoba, calm down. I decided to let you keep him. I think he’s grown too attached to you, or the other way around. Now get down to the breakfast table.” Our mom had shown up at the open door. She hummed a little as she went downstairs. I let go of the front of Westy’s nightgown. Well, I figured that all of my problems were over. Now I just had to stop Vermont from eating the Petpet bed.
Okay, that’s the end of the half disastrous, half joyful tale of me and Vermont. *Vermont is licking the porch swing* There he goes again! So what are you here for anyway? To interview me?! And I didn’t have my fancy pants on? What is wrong with me!? I’ll be right back... until then, my friend.