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Some and any craze for Maja and Inga
Quiz by Joanna Koc-Slawecka
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âOn this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when Iâm no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your âdeadâ Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when Iâm only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!â Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasnât what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. Thereâs no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. âThatâs right,â I said aloud. âKnox, my-my Sovereign!â squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one Iâd never seen before or had failed to remember. âLook what Iâve found! Itâs wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I donât know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.â He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. âHow neat.â âI want you to have it, Sir.â I nodded my head. âYes, of course. Thank you.â Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until Iâm nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. âShut up,â I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorumâbiting down with square teeth laced with rabies. âIâve got you all something,â I said. âGo back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We donât want it.â A woman rose from the pile and spat. âYou donât even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.â âYour playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.â The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. âI remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, Iâm going to have an aneurysm!â the girl continued. âWhy not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?â I returned her accusing tone. âIâm sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel Iâve neglected my duties. Iâll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if Iâve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!â I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. âIâll just leave this here.â Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** â141, 143. . .â I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasnât moving at allâswallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. Youâve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. âDo you need help, Knox?â called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There mustâve been at least another hundred between me and her. âIâm hallucinating some,â I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. âIâm hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, weâd have to eliminate the âballâ aspect. It sounds too crude.â âOne foot in front of the other,â she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stultoâs bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. âLove,â I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. âAre you awake?â She said sheâd wait. Somebodyâs gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manorâs cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. âWhere is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?â Thereâs someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stultoâs bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depressionâSpes posing with her ax, Ariâs school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subjectâs essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustnât forget whose home theyâre in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ariâs from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. âDarling,â whispered the rosy-faced man, âlook.â He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. âGet out of my house,â I said. The man stayed in place. âGet out of my house,â I repeated. âKnox,â Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. âShut up!â I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. âGet out of my house! Iâll kill you!â âKnox!â Spes sobbed. âGod damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, thereâs less passion. God, God, God, I donât want to fuck a dead man!â she screamed, âYou get out! Get! Get!â My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind worldâeven my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the manâs head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wifeâs shoulder. âSpes!â My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. âYouâre insane,â he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. âGet up.â Staggering toward the bed, I said. âYou wanted passion? I showed you passion. âShoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .â I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. âI love you, Spes,â I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. âSpes, please. Please.â No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. âDad? I heardââ Ariâs slippered feet hammered across the floor. âMom? Mom?â I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. âShe-She isnâtâyourâ.â Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. âYouâre a murderer. Bad. Like they said,â she breathed, â You beat her!â The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. âMy-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . Iâm afraid heâs going to hurt me,â she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least sheâd be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. âNo,â I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. âStay with me.â But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. âTrials Sovereign Vsevolod âKnoxâ Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purityâs Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Lifeâs 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!â towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You arenât a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didnât dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. âKnox?â said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasnât confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasnât as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellarâs backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. âCome on, get up! Theyâre after you!â Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. âAnwen?â I rasped, âhu-who let you out?â Keys jangled in her handsâmy keys. âI escaped,â she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. âQuicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. âYou see that compost bin down the alley? Weâre gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, Iâll be on top, and I can hide you and act like Iâm just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.â With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. âI donât understand, Anwen,â I said. âTheyâre going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know theyâve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!â âI understand that.â It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. âYou said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?â âWhat else could I do? Leave you there?â Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. âDamn me to hell! Iâve killed her! My love is dead!â an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. âShut up! Soon youâll be, too, if you donât quiet down.â The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the binâs lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. âWhat are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,â I whispered. âThe search, mainly.â Aggression remained firey in Anwenâs clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. âDid you mean to kill her?â Anwen interrogated. âSomeone like you would immutably believe yes.â âAnd who is someone like me? You canât even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?â grating drama decorated her words. âYou know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breedâs faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.â I retorted. âI just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?â âIt makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.â âAnd why am I an idiot?â She asked. âBecause you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.â As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. âYou never answered my question,â Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crateâs exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. âNo. Of course not. Spes was my everything,â I sniffled. âI knew it. You couldnât even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.â My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and miseryâone to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as âsensitiveâ, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wifeâs tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. âThatâs why I think you could use a little help,â Anwen said, âIt seems like you canât walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.â She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. âTake off your tie and put up your hair. âWill make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.âA BAD CASE OF THE STRIPES By David Shannon Parts(18): Camilla Narrator 1 Narrator 2 Narrator 3 Narrator 4 Mr. Harms Mother Father Dr. Bumble Old Woman Environmental Therapist Dr. Grop Dr. Gourd Dr. Sponge Mr. Mellon Dr. Cricket Dr. Young <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> Narrator 1: A BAD CASE OF THE STRIPES By David Shannon Narrator 2: Camilla Cream loved lima beans. But she never ate them. Narrator 3: All of her friends hated lima beans, and she wanted to fit in. Camilla always worried about what other people thought of her. Narrator 4: Today she was fretting even more than usual. It was the very first day of school, and she couldn't decide what to wear. There were so many people to impress! Narrator 1: She tried on forty-two outfits, but none seemed quite right. She put on a pretty red dress and looked in the mirror. Then she screamed. Narrator 2: Her mother ran into the room, and she screamed, too. Mother: "Oh my heavens! You're completely covered with stripes!" Narrator 3: she cried. This was certainly true. Camilla was striped from head to toe. She looked like a rainbow. Narrator 4: Mrs. Cream felt Camilla's forehead. Mother: "Do you feel all right?" Narrator 1: she asked. Camilla: "I feel fine, but just look at me!" Narrator 2: Camilla answered. Mother: "You get back in bed this instant. You're not going to school today." Narrator 3: her mother ordered. Camilla was relieved. She didn't want to miss the first day of school, but she was afraid of what the other kids would say. And she had no idea what to wear with those crazy stripes. Narrator 4: That afternoon, Dr. Bumble came to examine Camilla. Dr. Bumble: "Most extraordinary! I've never seen anything like it! Are you having any coughing, sneezing, runny nose, aches, pains, chills, hot flashes, dizziness, drowsiness, shortness of breath, or uncontrollable twitching?" Narrator 1: he asked. Camilla: "No, I feel fine." Narrator 2: Camilla told him. Dr. Bumble: "Well then, I don't see any reason why she shouldn't go to school tomorrow. Here's some ointment that should help clear up those stripes in a few days. If it doesn't, you know where to reach me." Narrator 3: Dr. Bumble said, turning to Mrs. Cream. And off he went. Narrator 4: The next day was a disaster. Everyone at school laughed at Camilla. They called her "Camilla Crayon" and "Night of the Living Lollipop." Narrator 1: She tried her best to act as if everything were normal, but when the class said the Pledge of Allegiance, her stripes turned red, white, and blue, and she broke out in stars! Narrator 2: The other kids thought this was great. One yelled out, Narrator 3: "Let's see some purple polka dots!" Narrator 4: Sure enough, Camilla turned all purple polka-dotty. Someone else shouted, Narrator 1: "Checkerboard!" Narrator 4: and a pattern of squares covered her skin. Soon everyone was calling out different shapes and colors, and poor Camilla was changing faster than you can change channels on a T.V. Narrator 2: That night, Mr. Harms, the school principal, called. Mr. Harms: "I'm sorry, Mrs. Cream, I'm going to have to ask you to keep Camilla home from school. She's just too much of a distraction, and I've been getting phone calls from the other parents. They're afraid those stripes may be contagious." Narrator 3: he said. Camilla was so embarrassed. She couldn't believe that two days ago everyone liked her. Now, nobody wanted to be in the same room with her. Narrator 1: Her father tried to make her feel better. Father: "Is there anything I can get you, sweetheart?" Narrator 2: he asked. Camilla: "No, thank you," Narrator 3: sighed Camilla. What she really wanted was a nice plate of lima beans, but she had been laughed at enough for one day. Dr. Bumble: "Hmm, well, yes, I see. I think I'd better bring in the Specialists. We'll be right over.â Narrator 4: said Dr. Bumble to Mr. Cream on the phone. About an hour later, Dr. Bumble arrived with four people in long white coats. He introduced them to the Creams. Dr. Bumble: "This is Dr. Grop, Dr. Sponge, Dr. Cricket, and Dr. Young." Narrator 1: Then the Specialists went to work on Camilla. They squeezed and jabbed, tapped and tested. It was very uncomfortable. Dr. Grop: "Well, it's not the mumps." Dr. Sponge: "Or the measles." Dr. Cricket:"Definitely not chicken pox." Dr. Young: "Or sunburn." Narrator 2: replied the Specialists. Specialists:"Try these. Take one of each before bed." Narrator 4: said the specialists. They each handed her a bottle filled with different colored pills. Then they filed out the front door followed by Dr. Bumble. Narrator 1: That night, Camilla took her medicine. It was awful. Narrator 2: When she woke up the next morning, she did feel different, but when she got dressed, her clothes didn't fit right. She looked in the mirror, and there, staring back at her, was a giant, multi-colored pill with a face on it. Narrator 3: Dr. Bumble rushed over as soon as Mrs. Cream called. But this time, instead of the Specialists, he brought the Experts. Narrator 4: Dr. Gourd and Mr. Mellon were the finest scientific minds in the land. Once again, Camilla was poked and prodded, looked at and listened to. Narrator 1: The Experts wrote down lots of numbers. Then they huddled together and whispered. Dr. Gourd finally spoke. Dr. Gourd: "It might be a virus," Narrator 2: he announced with authority. Suddenly, fuzzy little virus balls appeared all over Camilla. Mr. Mellon: "Or possibly some form of bacteria," Narrator 3: said Mr. Mellon. Out popped squiggly little bacteria tails. Dr. Gourd: "Or it could be a fungus," Narrator 4: added Dr. Gourd. Instantly, Camilla was covered with different colored fungus blotches. The experts looked at Camilla, then each other. Experts: "We need to go over these numbers again back at the lab. Weâll call you when we know something," Narrator 1: said the Experts. But the Experts didn't have a clue, much less a cure. Narrator 2: By now, the T.V. news had found out about Camilla. Reporters from every channel were outside her house, telling the story of "The Bizarre Case of the Incredible Changing Kid." Narrator 3: Soon a huge crowd was camped out on the front lawn. Narrator 4: The Creams were swamped with all kinds of remedies from psychologists, allergists, herbalists, nutritionists, psychics, an old medicine man, a guru, and even a veterinarian. Narrator 1: Each so-called cure only added to poor Camilla's strange appearance until it was hard to even recognize her. She sprouted roots and berries and crystals and feathers and a long furry tail. But nothing worked. Narrator 2: One day, a woman who called herself an Environmental Therapist claimed she could cure Camilla. She said, Environmental Therapist: "Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and become one with your room." Camilla: "I wish you hadn't said that," Narrator 3: Camilla groaned. Slowly, she started to melt into the walls of her room. Her bed became her mouth, her nose was a dresser, and two paintings were her eyes. The therapist screamed and ran from the house. Mother: "What are we going to do? It just keeps getting worse and worse!" Narrator 4: cried Mrs. Cream. She began to sob. Narrator 1: At that moment, Mr. Cream heard a quiet little knock at the front door. He opened it, and there stood an old woman who was just as plump and sweet as a strawberry. Old Woman: "Excuse me, but I think I can help." Narrator 2: she said brightly. Narrator 3: She went into Camilla's room and looked around. Old Woman: "My goodness, what we have here is a bad case of the stripes. One of the worst I've ever seen!" Narrator 4: she said with a shake of her head. She pulled a container of small green beans from her bag. She said, Old Woman: "Here. These might do the trick." Mother: "Are those magic beans?" Narrator 1: asked Mrs. Cream. The old woman replied, Old Woman: "Oh my, no, there's no such thing. These are just plain old lima beans. I'll bet you'd like some, wouldn't you?" Narrator 2: she asked Camilla. Camilla wanted a big, heaping plateful of lima beans more than just about anything, but she was still afraid to admit it. She said, Camilla: "Yuck! No one likes lima beans, especially me!" Old Woman: "Oh, dear, I guess I was wrong about you." Narrator 3: said the old woman sadly. She put the beans back in her bag and started toward the door. Narrator 4: Camilla watched the old woman walk away. Those beans would taste so good. And being laughed at for eating them was nothing, compared to what she'd been going through. She finally couldn't stand it. Camilla: "Wait! The truth is...I really love lima beans." Narrator 1: she cried. The old woman smiled, popping a handful of beans into Camilla's mouth, and said, Old Woman: "I thought so." Camilla: "Mmmmmmm," Narrator 2: said Camilla. Suddenly the branches, feathers, and squiggly tails began to disappear.Then the whole room swirled around. When it stopped, there stood Camilla, and everything was back to normal. Camilla: "I'm cured!" Narrator 3: she shouted. The old woman said, Old Woman: "Yes, I knew the real you was in there somewhere." Narrator 4: She patted Camilla on the head and went outside and vanished into the crowd. Narrator 1: Afterward, Camilla wasn't quite the same. Narrator 2: Some of the kids at school said she was weird, but she didn't care a bit. Narrator 3: She ate all the lima beans she wanted, and she never had even a touch of stripes again.Match the word to its synonym level B1 CEFR. Use the vocabulary exactly adverb precisely except that aside from exist verb to be real existing adjective real, current Example: Flying cars are not practical with existing technology. existence noun reality Example: The existence of black holes has been confirmed by indirect observation. extraordinary adjective unusual feature noun important part of something Example: The Ramon Crater is a unique feature of the Negev Desert. feedback noun reaction figure noun shape Example: I canât tell if that figure in the shadows is a man or a woman. figure out verb understand Example: I just canât figure out how the magician did that amazing trick. financial adjective related to money Example: Her family is having financial problems so they canât travel overseas this year. finance verb pay for Example: If I canât get a loan from the bank, I wonât be able to finance a new apartment. finance noun money Example: An expert in finance predicts a global recession. finding/findings noun discoveries; results of a study Example: According to the findings of the police investigation, this is the gun which fired the fatal bullet. flexibility noun willingness to change flexible adjective adjusts easily Example: Iâd prefer to meet on Monday morning but I can be flexible depending upon your schedule. flood noun a lot of water flood verb to cover with too much water flu noun type of sickness focus on/upon verb pay attention to Example: You should focus on your schoolwork if you want to improve your grades. focus noun attention People with attention deficit disorder lose focus easily. frequency noun how often frequent adjective very often Example: Hanah is a frequent customer and everyone at the store knows her. fresh adjective new Example: We need some fresh ideas if weâre going to solve this problem. frighten verb scare from preposition position, starting point gain verb make an increase, profit, earn Example: I have nothing to gain by choosing sides so I shall remain neutral. gain noun profit, amount earned generate verb create, make Example: Chat GPT can generate text written in any style you choose. guidance noun help, advice hopeful adjective optimistic, having a positive outlook Example: The farmers are hopeful that we will have rain this winter. hopefully adjective with luck ideal adjective best, most preferable Example: Nuclear power may not be an ideal solution to global warming, but itâs certainly worth considering. illness noun sickness, disease illustrate verb draw pictures illustration noun picture, image Example: Childrenâs storybooks have colorful illustrations. image noun picture, especially on film or television Example: The mother of the pop singer cried when she first saw her daughterâs image on television. in preposition within, inside, into in terms of regarding Example: That company makes a great product but theyâre lacking in terms of customer service. in actual fact in truth Example: The mayor says the city is a safe place to live, but in actual fact the violent crime rate is very high. in connection with about Example: Police arrested four men in connection with the robbery. in that case if that is true Example: Billy Bob: âTraffic could be heavy tomorrow.â Peggy Sue: âIn that case, we better leave early.â in the meantime while, during Example: The new computers wonât arrive until next week, but we can keep using the old ones in the meantime. initial adjective first Example: Her initial reaction to that song was negative, but over time sheâs come to like it. initially adverb at first instruction noun teaching, order Example: Most new electronic devices come with a set of instructions. intelligence noun smartness Example: Since you have a degree from a good university, I assume you have sufficient intelligence to understand this problem. intelligent adjective smart Example: Joe isnât very intelligent, but he is a kind person with a warm heart. interest noun attraction Example: Yossi has little interest in politics, whereas his wife goes to all the protests and demonstrations. interest verb to attract Example: Sports donât really interest me, but my brother is a big basketball fan. introduce verb to show something new Example: Today in class I will introduce the basic concepts of literary analysis. invest verb to put money into something in order to earn money Example: Joe invested in cryptocurrency and lost a lot of money. investor noun one who puts money into something in order to earn money Example: Venture capitalists are investors who put money into risky start-up businesses. investment noun putting money into something in order to earn money Example: Buying real estate in Israel is a very safe investment because the value never goes down. investigate verb research, study Example: The police collected evidence to investigate the murder. investigation noun study Example: The police donât have a suspect for the murder as the investigation isnât finished yet. investigator noun detective Example: Detective Schmendrick is the lead investigator for the murder case. just about almost Example: Iâm just about done here so Iâll be there shortly. keep on doing verb continue Example: Youâre crazy if you keep on doing the same thing and expect different results. kind of type of Example: What kind of dog is that, a poodle? knowledge noun awareness Example: John failed the test due to lack of knowledge of the material. lack verb not having, missing Example: John failed the test due to lack of knowledge of the material. landscape noun the view of the land likely adjective, adverb probably Example: When we learn from our mistakes, weâre not likely to forget. limited adjective restricted Example: We should go to the store today because the sale is for a limited time only. limitation noun restriction little adjective small, not a lot Example: She always tells the truth. I have little reason to doubt her. look at verb see Example: People used to read newspapers on the train. Nowadays they just look at their phones. low adverb to a small amount or level Example: I have to charge my phone because the battery is running low. material noun documents, information Example: We have a lot of material to cover before the end of the semester. meaning noun significance mean verb to have significance or purpose means noun form of, by the use of Example: They communicate by means of radio. measure noun step Example: The teacher took measures to prevent cheating during the test mention verb to say, point out Example: The coach said the team played very well today but didnât mention any player specifically. miss verb (1) fail to catch (2) wishing to see somebody Examples: (1) The football player kicked the ball but missed the goal. (2) Wow, itâs good to see you! Iâve missed you so much! misunderstand verb understand incorrectly Example: Iâm afraid I misunderstood the instructions. Could you repeat them please? more or less approximately, somewhat, to a varying degree Example: This is more or less a religious neighborhood, though there are a few secular families. must modal verb have to naturally adverb as expected, normally nature noun (1) open air (2) character Examples: (1) We like to go hiking in nature reserves. (2) Pit bulls are aggressive by nature.Some and anySome and Any 5classŮاؚد؊ some and anyComplete the interview with some and any.I always eat breakfast (some and any)