ADVERB KILLER

Copyright (c) 2019 by Randall R. Peterson ALL RIGHTS RESERVED This is a work of fiction. All persons, locations and actions are from the author's imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner.

By R. Peterson

Noun and Verb watched as the shadowy character climbed the reading table inside the British library on Euston Road and slipped between the pages of an open book. “Did you get a name?” A coughing and out-of-breath Noun asked Verb.

            “Just the last two letters … L and Y,” Verb told him.

            “Damn! It could be anyone of a million adverbs!” Noun gasped.

            “Are we going after him … or her?”

            “We have to,” Noun wheezed out each word. “If there’s another adverb … hiding somewhere in those pages … they’re sure to breed … and you know what … that does to a story!”

            “Well let’s go then,” Verb said. “All editors miss at least one.” She looked at the overweight Noun struggling behind her and shook her head. “You really need to lay off the large fonts, Slim … and try to keep up!”

Noun couldn’t help glancing at the book’s cover just before they slipped inside. “A Ripple in Time by Julia Hughes,” he read. “Looks self-published. I’ll bet it’s crawling with miscreants!”

-------2-------

            “Don’t be such a racist,” Verb told him as they walked past the title page. “Self published authors are good writers … and not all adverbs are bad!”

            “They’re leeches,” Noun growled. “My best friend in school was Handsome. He went out with this wanna-be suffix once and she stuck to him like glue. After that Handsomely couldn’t get his name scribbled on a water closet wall even in the library gay literature sections.”

Noun and Verb walked past a sleeping Finally, Entirely and Abruptly on the prolog page to where Becky stood glaring at them on page four. “It’s supposed to be an old goods train that wakes me up not cops,” she held Verb back with her hand. “What’s your name … and who’s your fat friend?”

            “I’m Verb and this is Noun,” Verb tried to make her voice sound authoritative. “We’re grammar police.”

            “Ain’t nobody in these chapters sniffing glue,” Becky sneered. She spread her arms wide as if to encompass the entire book. “This whole bindings been dry since July 2011.”

            “We watched an adverb run in here a few minutes ago,” Noun told her. “We need to have all the words on this page ending in LY come down so we can question them.”

A few minutes later, Sleepily, Jelly, Cosily and a faded word all lined up at the bottom of the page. “You’re not an adverb are you?” Noun singled out Jelly.

            “It’s profiling,” Jelly grumbled. “Cops see the LY on the end of my name and they automatically think I’ve got sticky fingers.”

Sleepily could barely keep her eyes open. “I work nights,” she yawned. “And Becky’s line after line romping with Rhyllann makes rest a thing to be treasured.”

            “It’s not my fault your always on your period,” Becky snapped.

            “You looking for a good time?” Cosily moved closer to Noun. “I’ve got special rates for cops!”

            “Any of you Adverbs see an excited black word run through here?” Verb asked. “He would have been wet and looking to rub up against someone.”

            “Was he a dirty word, a four letter?” Cosily asked. “If so, this is a job for an editor.”

            “At least six letters I believe,” Verb told her.

            “Ask her,” Cosily pointed to the end of the sentence as she fondled Noun’s vowels.

            “Are   you smeared?” Verb asked the trembling word lingering in the shadows.

            “Nearly,” the shy adverb whispered.

-------3-------

            “I misjudged this book,” Noun said as they searched through the first chapter. “It feels like we’re back in prohibition era. I thought I would see italicized words dancing, laughing and stumbling about everywhere. So far I haven’t seen a single one.”

            “As long as they’re not driving I see no harm in getting a little buzz-on,” Verb said. “I don’t like it when they’re slanted too much but I think mostly they just want to draw attention to themselves.”

            “Everybody wants to be someone,” Noun told her. “You don’t have to be italicized to have a good time.”

They both knew it was too good to be true. They’d just started down page eight when someone named Wren stepped in front of them. “What are you looking at?” he demanded. Behind him a whole line of italicized words looked to be enjoying themselves. Verb recognized Becky among the inebriated.

            “I’m Verb and this is Noun,” Verb said. “We are grammar police. Did you see a black word run through here?”

            “Of course I did. This is my chapter,” Wren said. A smiling adverb named Mentally opened a door for him. He scooted into the taxi and sped away.

Noun and Verb tried to avoid the italicized words while they waited in a crowd in vain for another taxi. Come followed Annie as she stepped over Away and danced with Wales and Week.

“Why aren’t you stumbling about?” Verb asked a large word named Titanic as they watched the party. “I’m not built that way,” Titanic boasted. “No amount of ink in the world will ever make me list!”

-------4-------

            It was getting dark. Verb and Noun decided they better start walking. Nine pages later they met Ocean. He was too sloshed to give them more than a wave. A ragged Cliff stood leering on one side of Dinky Harbor while Small, Fishing and Fleet fouled someone named Air. “What makes you think Wren came here?” Verb asked batting away an unseen Dirt and thinking she was in the bad part of the chapter.

            “That too-smart word knows something,” Noun growled. “Did you see the way Wren left when I mentioned the black word?”

            “You’re probably right,” Verb told him. She raised her hand and pointed toward a high line on page twenty. “Isn’t that a Cave?”

            “I see a family resemblance,” Noun said. “But without a first name he’s just another hole in the wall.”

-------5-------

Noun talked to Opening who led them past Jagged Rock to Cave and then on to a leering Tunnel. It was total darkness as they followed behind Tunnel and another word they couldn’t see. Verb had just used a highlighter when, without Warning, Tunnel ran out.

“Look out!” Verb screamed as Menacingly leaped down from his hiding place two sentences above.

“Who, where, what?” a confused Noun stammered as the grinning black adverb stalked past Warning and toward them … brandishing a large brush from a bottle of White Out.

TO BE CONTINUED …