It's an Ultra-Violence World Afterall

An Unwelcome Guest

Back at the ol' flatblock, pee was waiting for me all worried like in his favorite chair; the one furthest from any windows. He bombarded me with a bunch of where, where, wheres' the moment I goolied though the front door. He's been like this ever since his zheena, my em, was murdered about a year ago by a group of nadsat droogs not unlike Alex and his banda of delinquents. The poor veck expects me home at a certain time, and if I'm even a minoota late Your Humble Narrator gets thoroughly cross-examined. After assuring my pee that all was well, I shut myself up in my bedroom to let him get back to his rabbit. Doing something productive such as homework was out of the question, but so was boredom, so I was going to have to figure out something to do. I thought about giving the pop-disk a slooshy, but the first one I laid my rookers on was Beethoven's 9th symphony which reminded me of Alex. Damn that lewdie for getting me all worked up.

My inevitable boredom was prolonged by a faint vibrating coming from the inside of my carmans: my phone. I pulled out my cellular device and looked at the screen. It was dear old Gemma, asking me if my earlier response to her request to join her at the moloko mesto still stood. Of course at the current moment the strack, fear that is, of smotting Alex was greater than my strack of a lame nochy in. Something about that lewdie rubbed me the wrong way. He was known in Your Humble Narrator's submissive town for acts of bolshy ultra-violence. His sudden interessovat in me couldn't be dobby. At best, he just wanted a bit of the in and out to ease the throbbing in his yarbles; at worst, well, I don't really know. What I did know was that a) his reputation preceded him, and that b) I didn't want to become another one of his victims. 

My frenzied thoughts were interrupted by the zvook of the zvonock. Probably without glancing up from his rabbit, pee creeched at me to get the door. With a roll of my glazzies, I left the comfort of my room to open the door to this random stranger. Only, when I opened the door, no stranger stood before me. Rather, there stood Alex bearing a scowl on his litso yet his composer as calm and collected as always. He didn't wait for permission to enter the flatblock. Instead, he tolchocked his way past me and into the living room where my pee currently sat. The shoom of Alex's heavy nogas against the hardwood floor startled my ol' veck. Pee took of his otchkies and rubbed his glazzies as he took in the unfamiliar lewdie clad in nadsat platties who had encroached himself into the flatblock. 

"Kali," pee demanded, "who's this?"

"A droog," Alex responded for me, tipping his hat at pee. 

Before either my father or I could answer, Alex goolied into my room. Pee cast his gaze downwards as his body started to shake.

"Don't have an episode," I tried to placate. "I'll take care of his."

"Who is he really," pee stammered. 

I sighed, "a droog."

The lie rolled of my yahzick as I hastily raced into my room, slammming the door behind me. 

"You need to leave," I said, then continued with, "and stop following me around. You're stalking me and I could have you arrested for that."

Alex, who had already made himself comfortable on my bed, his rookers clasped behind his gulliver, just flashed a zoobie grin at me, "oh,oh oh, thou could have me arrested, but I promise thou I'd take at least odin of your droogs down with me," he trailed off. "I didn't come here to talk about millicents."

"No? Then why have you come?"

"Technically I haven't yet," he let out a great smeck at his play on words. As my rookers clenched into fists, Alex continued, "Relax, I've got no time for the old in and out now; when we're done here I'm meeting Dim, Georgie, and Pete somewhere, and I can't show up all flustered now."

"Then I repeat: why are you here?"

Instead of responding to my question, he slithered off my bed and over to my pop-disc collection. His lithe fingers traced patterns across the pop-disc's cases before coming to rest on the very odin I had pulled out earlier.

"I thought I remember thou mentioning Beethoven."

"Alex-"

"That is my name."

I sighed in frustration. Sensing my disdain, Alex dropped the pop-disc onto my bed and took a step towards me. His rooker reached for my listo as if to caress it, but I turned my gulliver away. He cocked his own gulliver to the side as if examining my reaction like a scientist examines one of their specimens. 

"If you don't leave, I will," I finally told him.

"You'd leave me here, all alone in your room? Who knows what treasures I could find..."

"Oh please, the minoota I ookadeet, you're going to follow."

He cocked his gulliver further to the side so that his shiyah almost made a ninety degree angle with the floor, "Why dost thou think this?"

"You're an easy veck to read," I replied. 

Quick like a whip, his gulliver shot up and straightened itself out, "And if I leave will thou follow?"

I smecked, "No."

Alex nodded, "I didn't think so. I just thought I'd ask nicely the first time."

"You came here to ask me to join you and your banda of droogs as you wreak havoc on our town?"

"No. I came here to ask you to join my droogs and I nicely. Our next exchange won't be so pleasant." 

I rubbed my temples, "get out!"

He tipped his stupid hat at me, "as you wish."