Interrogate Prodigy II: Prodigy is Stupid Enough to be Re-Captured

Due to demands made by Calista and Tomato and encouraged by Sparrow, I have resurrected this. I'm probably going to regret it. But have at it, ask me stuff and I will endeavor to answer to the best of my ability.

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3. Two: Uh, tomatoes, existential life discussions, and Donald "I am the least racist person" Trump (Calista, Raven, Asteria Grace, Sestra, Le Fox Noel, Mirlotta)

    Prodigy was denied her pizza. Her life really sucked right now. With a huge sigh, she opened the room to questions once again. 

    Calista trotted to the middle of the room and started barking and bouncing up and down excitedly. Prodigy surveyed her with a bored look. “What?”

    Bending down, Calista gestured with her nose first to one of the white tiles of the checker pattern on the tile floor, then to one of the black. She sat back and cocked her head expectantly. 

    “White or black?” Prodigy asked. 

    Calista barked once. 

    “Gray,” Prodigy replied. “But, if forced to choose, black. It makes up too large a portion of my wardrobe to ignore, and it does, after all, match my soul.”

    Accepting this, Calista hurried to the kitchen, returning with an onion and a tomato clasped in her mouth. She dropped them on the floor, and they rolled to a stop in front of Prodigy, covered in drool. “Um…” Prodigy said. “I’m not eating those.”

    Calista barked impatiently. 

    “Tomato or onion? Onion.”

    Calista did a little dance that either said she had to pee or that Prodigy was wrong. She trotted off to the kitchen again. This time, she came back with a pineapple. Kicking the tomato away, she set the pineapple beside the onion.

    “Um…oh! Fruits or vegetables?” Prodigy guessed. Calista gave an affirmative bark. “Fruits.”

    Next, Calista trotted over to Galaxy Kitty, looking at her pointedly, then at Prodigy. Then, she barked once and sat, her head tilted. “Cats or dogs?” Prodigy guessed, not because Calista was very good at charades, but more because Prodigy was just all around smart and awesome. Calista’s tail wagged. “As much as I am stung by your betrayal, Calista, I’m still going to have to go with dogs. Though I’m pretty sure I said that last chapter, gosh, pay attention. Next!”

    “Wait!” Calista blurted. All eyes turned to her. 

    “You can talk?” Prodigy asked in surprise.

    Calista rolled her doggy eyes. “Of course.”

    “Then what was with the charades?”

    “They were fun.”
    “So why’d you stop?”

    Calista replied, “Because I didn’t know how to ask if you like your ice cream in a cone or bowl.”

    Prodigy’s eyes narrowed. “If you think you’re going to win me back with ice cream, you’re sorely mistaken,” she said, her voice hard. As an after note, she added, “But cone, thanks.”

    Literally Raven cleared her throat. “Ahem, I have a question.”

    “Ahem, I don’t care.”

    “Don’t make me hurt you,” Literally Raven replied.

    Prodigy rolled her eyes. “How could you possibly-“

    Raven snapped her fingers and one of her trained monkeys brought in a record from Prodigy’s vinyl collection. Her favorite, Balance of Power. And a nail. Prodigy’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.” Raven smiled and edged a finger in the slit of the cardboard sleeve. “Fine!” Prodigy relented. “What’s your question?”

    “What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

    Prodigy thought for a long time. “I have very, very many, but the two which are tied for annoying me the most are excessive cell phone usage at social gatherings, particularly incessant showing of pictures on phones - pictures which literally no one cares about - and then being forced to pass the phone around to each person individually where they’re obligated to pretend to be interested. The other is when people walk through the wrong side of double doors. It is not that hard to understand,” she ranted. “If you always walk through the right side no matter what direction you’re going, everyone will be happy. Lazy people who just slip through whatever door is open regardless of opposing traffic make me so angry.”

    “But how do you know which side is the ‘right’ side?” Raven asked with a frown. 

    Prodigy blinked at her. “Raven, you do know your left from your right, don’t you?”

    “Ohhh, you mean that right. Gotcha. Ok, what’s your favorite band?” Raven continued. 

    Eyes narrowing, Prodigy asked, “Is this so you’ll know which record to go for when you go to destroy one?”

    Raven grinned. “Maybe. But you’re under the serum, so you have to answer truthfully regardless.”

    “Well, the truth is, it’s an impossible question. Not only does it change periodically, but there are a few that have been tied and will remain tied for a long time, I’d guess. Right now, my favorite is probably Bright Eyes and/or their lead singer Conor Oberst’s solo stuff, but they’re really the only modern band I like a lot. Honorable mentions a.k.a. my alternating favorites are Queen, Aerosmith, Electric Light Orchestra and Led Zeppelin, only one of which (Aerosmith) is still together, which is sad.”

    “Interesting, interesting,” Raven replied. “And favorite kind of pizza?”

    “Is this so you can taunt me?” Prodigy asked.

    “Maybe,” Raven said again.

    With a huff, Prodigy answered, “Buffalo chicken.”
    Raven looked triumphant. It made Prodigy furious. She pulled at her string cheese bonds, but to no avail. 

    “I have a question,” Asteria Grace spoke up. “Why didn’t you just have the pizza delivered to your house? That is what you came here for, right?”

    Prodigy looked defensive. “Well excuse me for trying to get a little exercise.”

    “I kind of think the exercise would be defeated by eating a pizza,” Mirlotta muttered. 

    “Hey, it would at least offset it some. Better a little exercise than none at all, am I right?”

    Some mumbling spread around the room. The general consensus seemed to be that, for once, Prodigy was not right. Okay, the for once thing might be a bit of an exaggeration. The bottom line is that Prodigy wasn’t right so take that and be happy. 

    “Do you think that cats will one day rule the world?” Sestra asked randomly. 

    “No,” Prodigy replied. “I think that mice will, being that they’re more intelligent than humans. In fact, they probably already are, in which case, cats are slowly being manipulated by the very creatures they’ve hunted and killed for years. The mice have been saving up for a massive revenge trike. Cats don’t stand a chance.”

    “Best way to have a napkin?” Sestra continued, not liking the response Prodigy just gave. 

    Prodigy looked at her in confusion. “Um…… just have it????? Like either you have it or you don’t, there’s really no good way or bad way to be in possession of a napkin?”

    At this point, Le Fox Noel burst in from the street, shouting, “What is wrong with Donald Trump’s hair???”

    Prodigy looked her way, “I’d attribute its general horribleness to self awareness. I believe that each strand of his hair is self aware, and that they all, as a collective whole, find the head upon which they’ve been placed to be so abhorrent that they’ll do anything to get away. That’s why, one by one, they’re making their escape. Him combing them over might slow them down for a little while, but soon they’ll all be free.”

    “Ok, but what is wrong with Donald Trump??” Le Fox continued. 

    “Oh, so many things. This serum would wear off before I could list them all,” Prodigy said dismissively. “I mean, besides the fact that he’s a racist, sexist, ignorant asshole, there’s also the matter of him existing. His very existence is wrong.”

    “What is wrong??”

    “EVERYTHING,” Prodigy yelled. “I’m sitting in a pizzeria, tied up with cheese, being forced to answer questions by a person who was formerly an inside-out chicken while not being allowed any pizza and having no choice but to sit idly by as Trump gains popularity in the polls despite the fact that I’m pretty sure he gave me a rubber chicken then got hit by a bus,” Prodigy ranted, then muttered in a low, dark tone, “If he wins this election post-mortem, I’m moving to Canada.”

    Le Fox nodded sympathetically. “That’s fair. So, how about them aliens? Real or not real?”

    “Totally real,” Prodigy replied. “Though I don’t believe that under any circumstances we should attempt to engage with them. We’re idiots, as a species, and I’d rather our galactic reputation remain speculation rather than certainty. There’s a phrase my dad says, ‘It’s better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.’”

    “Interesting,” Le Fox said. “Is there a god somewhere out there?”

    “Perhaps. I, personally, don’t believe so,” Prodigy said. “But if believing that there is helps some people to feel better about themselves or this crappy world, then, by all means, continue. It just all seems like a big fear tactic to me, and there isn’t a logical argument to back up existence of a higher power. If there is a God, well, I sincerely apologize, but I think that you and I should exchange some words about the state of affairs the earth is in,” Prodigy finished, looking up at the ceiling.

    “What’s the best shade of Mac lipstick?”

    “Apple,” Prodigy answered. No one laughed. “Oh, come on, guys! Get it? Like Apple mac? Like the computers?” Silence. “Wow, you’re no fun. And, I know absolutely nothing about mac lipstick, but based on a cursory google search I just performed in my brain, I’m gonna go with Brave.”

    “How high is too high for a ferris wheel?”

    “Six hundred and eleven feet,” Prodigy replied. “That’s too high for everything. Including planes and mountains.”

    “Okay, okay, my turn!” Mirlotta said. “I’ve got some good ones.” She looked down at the napkin she’d been scribbling on. “What would you do if you woke up one morning and you’d turned into a deck of playing cards and then someone went and lost one of the cards and that would mean you’d LOST PART OF YOURSELF?”

    Prodigy looked horrified. “I would scream and cry and bemoan my life! It would feel like someone had ripped off one of my appendages and- Actually though,” she continued, her voice switching abruptly to calm, “that card wouldn’t happen to be the three of clubs, would it? I never really liked that part anyway.”

    Mirlotta scowled. “Um, no. Okay, well what if you actually ARE a deck of cards and don’t realize it?”

    “Then damnnnn, I’d have a good poker face,” Prodigy grinned. 

    No one was amused.    

    “Ooh, ooh, what if you’re actually the missing part and therefore only a tiny fraction of the person/deck of playing cards you could’ve been?”

    Prodigy thought for a minute. “Well, I’m certainly not the part with the heart,” she said with a  bitter laugh. “And the club is the clover, which is traditionally associated with Christianity, so, ha, not that either. And I’m nowhere near rich enough for the diamonds, so I must be a spade, which, according to my brain google, symbolizes life and the power of darkness. Sick, I can live with that.”

    “Oh my god, but what if the rest of the playing cards were actually users on movellas and they could be people like Raven and Calista and Tomato and everyone, and you think you’re having a conversation with everyone, but you’re actually inadvertently having a conversation with yourself?”

    “Um,” Prodigy began. She looked at the tomato on the floor, covered in drool, in disgust. She looked at Calista with even more disgust. She looked at Raven with the greatest disgust of them all. “Um, yeah, can I opt out? I don’t want to be part of a deck with Raven in it.”

    Raven stuck out her tongue. 

    “Mature,” Prodigy chided. She waited until Raven had turned away before sticking her own tongue out. Then, Prodigy felt suddenly tired. “Listen, I know you guys have more questions, but I’ll just answer them after I take a little nap, okay?” Prodigy curled up on the pizza counter and fell asleep.

 

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