John sat in front of a box television, a burning sensation still lingering in his shoulder. Harry had fought him for the remote diplomatically. By "diplomatically" he meant his entire arm would be swollen for the rest of the week.
He felt the warm glow hit his skin as he pretended to trace his cursive letters. The voices and shows brought a surge of adrenaline every scene change, every commercial break, every change in the tinted images.
The remote was at his side, ready to be used in case one of his parents decided to pop in to check on his handwriting. Telly wasn't allowed past four in school nights, so he would watch Telly every school night after four o'clock.
His parents weren't off their shifts yet, his dad working for the attorneys office about an hour away and his mom taking part time in the morning, homework in the afternoon and dinner in the evening. So no one was actually watching him after four anyway. But any evidence would need to be destroyed by five.
I'll turn it off in a few minutes—
He tensed, the floorboards of his second story shifting from under him. Faint murmurs traveled down the hall towards his sister's room.
Harry might be on the phone... Mum never leaves the kitchen and Dad, he's not off until six—
He clicked the screen off for safe measures and grabbed the closest book. He slammed his work folder shut to look like he finished his homework early and kicked the pencil under his desk, flopping back into his beanbag chair away from the Telly just as the door opened.
"John?" His father walked in, folding his arms.
"Yeah Dad?" The Telly hadn't even turned off completely yet, there was still this green halo that surrounded it. The screen was so warm that he could feel the heat from his beanbag chair a few paces away. "What's up?"
"Are you watching Telly?" His dad was focused on the illuminating haze that was beginning to fade.
"N-Nope... Nope Dad just... just y'know," John lifted the book, kicking himself when he realized it was a Yellowpages. "Reading the Yellowpages."
Harry has appeared in the door behind him, holding back laughter as their dad walked over to him. He swallowed, hiding behind the book a little more as his dad met his gaze.
"Oh, Redgie is having a sale down at the hardware store? Oh and a Tesco is opening on Burningham? I'll have to tell your mum," Their dad smiled, taking the book. "Thanks John."
He blinked, frozen with anticlimactic anticipation. He stole a glance at Harry as their father left, her mouth gaping as she sputteredat the Telly that was still obviously on. She walked over and turned the screen back on, only now changing it to one of her shows.
"Harry! Turn the Telly off, you know the rules! No phone calls tomorrow!"
YOU ARE READING
Sherlock Holmes Oneshots
FanfictionI've been listening to a few comedians and one of my friends pointed out that some of their comedy routines match the characters from the show. These chapters are based off of comedy bits. So here ya go... stupidity! I'll try to link the original co...
