Alfred was annoyed.
Extremely annoyed.
Earlier in the week he had bought a second-hand, electric guitar out of his wage packet, and was originally going to just leave it on a wall to admire in his study at the Ritz. However, in a chance moment of boredom, he began to play it, and thought that he was getting rather good at it. He could play a few songs, and it was doubling as a relaxing past-time for him between battles and experimenting with the book.
Today was Sunday, however, and he couldn't find it anywhere. Usually it was either resting on the windowsill or on his armchair by the speaker. But it wasn't. He snorted angrily, kicking the chair's pillow for at least the sixth time today.
Until he saw a note stuck behind his office door.
Made out of numerous different fonts cut straight from a newspaper and stick on a sheet of white A4 like a bad TV drama, it read 'IF YOU WANT THE GUITAR, AWAIT OUR CALL'. Alfred growled a multitude of swears under his breath. He knew who did this. Only one person in The Circle aside from Lewik had this kind artistic creativity, and he was away with Sam on a mission.
The phone rang, he quickly picked it up, and, without waiting for the caller to reply, he said:
"Alicia, you bitch"
-------------
"This is not Ali- Miss Berrye" Alicia replied in the next room along, holding the voice scrambler she ripped from a children's toy helmet next to her phone, her feet resting up on the edge of her office desk. "We are a terrorist cell demanding-" she began until Alfred walked in. She hurriedly dropped the scrambler into her lap and returned to the phone. "-And a large Sprite, thank you!" she finished, putting the recover down just a little too fast, as she turned her attention back to her guest, whom was looking under her couch and behind her door.
"Can I help you, Alf?" she asked, starting to hold up the newspaper to casually read until she realised she had just cut massive gaps in it to make her note, and then quickly tucking it under her desk.
"Where is she- uh, it?" he demanded, now looking behind her framed pieces modern art on the walls for the safe or the giant Scrooge McDuckian vault she didn't (yet) have.
"Where is what?"
"Mirabelle"
"Mirabelle...?"
"My guitar"
"You named your guitar after a woman?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just where is she-it, I mean" he quickly asked, putting his hands on his hips in annoyance.
Alicia smiled happily. "Well, it sounds like some terrible terrorist plot to destabilise our fragile super-team here, clearly starting with you..." she responded, taking out a large stack of files from a desk drawer as she said so, with a label at the top saying 'TERRORIST DEMANDS'.
"...However, if you sign all of these insurance wavers and permission slips for the UN I might convince these terrorists to target someone else in the building first" she finished, to which Alfred snorted at the prospect of homework and stormed off, leaving a grinning Alicia Berrye behind.
He'll be back, she thought, gleefully indulging in the brilliance of her work-reducing master plan.
YOU ARE READING
The Circle
NonfiksiA superhero headcanon I made that involved my entire A-Level Drama class (plus friends). Anyway, here is the super-awesome team straight out of the UK with superpowers of galactic proportions! I'm going to do some one-shots and stories of their supe...
