Stephanie & Ignatius:"Insert Title Here"(Painstakingly assembled through hours of distressed thoughts and arbitrary ideas, then sealed with a kiss)
In the crowded, outstetched epicentre of Dublin City's shopping populace, the locals, pedestrians and toursists all brushed against each other in a demented race to reach various locales before some inconvenience deterred them to do otherwise. Admist the hustle and bustle of the chaos, there walked an unusual duo. One was tall and dark haired, and a woman as well, roughly in the crux of her late twenties. She dressed in a battered green trench coat, loose-fitting denim jeans, an old white fedora and red sneakers. She wore a sunny expression, and drank silently from a cup of tea.
The other was a dog, that walked on its own two feet, defying all laws of known biology and most major religions. He didn't seem to mind. He was an Irish Setter, namely a ginger-coloured dog with a silky coat and long floppy ears. He appered weary eyed, though more out of boredom than pure exhaustion.
The woman gulped down her drink and sighed contently. She began to sing, much to the chagrin of her canine companion. In Dublin's fair city, where the girls aren't so pretty, I first took my eyes off unseemly Molly Malone...," she warbled.
The dog shuddered, then turned to his friend to speak. "Your singing is like my fur, Stephanie;coarse and contradicting." he grunted, whilst tilting his back forward in boredom.
Stephanie frowned, and ceased her vocal chords. "I'm singing a piece of quaint history, Ignatius," she said, "about how a young fishmonger strolled through town and was murdered one night by the local leprechauns, who then ate her." Ignatius stared up in awe, entranced by the tale. "Besides," Stephanie stated, sipping her beverage, "my singing's only off becuase I'm not 'loaded' at the moment."
Ignatius chortled. "Stephanie, acoustic gutair lingo will never be cool, no matter how much you try."
"Perhaps you're right." Stephanie conceded. "C'mon, let's head homeward, we can watch over Dublin City as its unwitting defenders from the comfort of our sette." she suggested, whilst causually tossing her cup of tea onto the ground with little care in the world. Unfortuantely, this aroused the attention of a nearby Garda, who marched over to the pair. He snatched Stephanie and Ignatius by their respective shoulders.
"Hey, don't touch me." Stephanie huffed as she whirled around. The Garda was a short, red-faced man in his early forties. He glared at her unnervingly.
"Don't you know," he snapped, whilst holding up Stephanie's lone cup, "it's illegal to litter?"
"Well, don't you know?" Ignatius tutted to Stephanie in an ashamed manner.
Stepahnie smiled cheerfully and took the cup in her hands. "I was merely educating my friend here on the importance of gravity, right mo chara?" she said with emphasis.
Ignatius nodded enthusiastically. "It's an intriguing theory!" he grinned wildly. "Besides, we're the Heroes For Hire, we're above the law!"
"Heroes For Hire? What kind of nonsense is that?" the garda grunted.
"The best kind, we're an elite organization consisting of myself and my friend here," Stephanie rambled to the increasingly impatient Garda, "who, when prompted and paid in advance, will save the day, at the expense of others!" she announced. "That's our motto, and if you'll excuse me, I have to get my friend here back to isolated confinement. Bye-bye!" Stephanie chirped, and raced around the corner with Ignatius leaping close by on all fours. The Garda stared in confusion at the rampant and blatant expostition he had just witnessed.
© Copyright 2016 The Whimsical Irish Insomniac. All rights reserved.
Book / Humor
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