Maryann looked at the aged building, feeling a little apprehension. While she’d been happy to hear that sport she’d dedicated so much of her free time to had a presence, even in this remote town, she still found it a little hard to believe. Still, it wasn’t as if she could practice everything on her own.
Walking into the building, she immediately came to a room, shockingly well-stocked compared to what she’d been expecting. Mats on the floor and walls, gloves, and…boxes of clay? Oh well, maybe it was some kind of practice technique she’d never heard of, you had to use what you could get in places like this.
“Oh hey, someone new!” on of the room’s occupants said. They were all young, mostly teenagers, of a distinctly nonathletic appearance. They mostly sat around, staring at their phones, while two appeared to be playing some kind of card game.
“Um…hello. Is this the fencing club?”
“That’s right. Hey Eric, looks like we finally found someone to replace you, fatass.”
“Fuck off.”
“Don’t mind Eric, he’s just mad that he’s the slowest and always ends up being the one who gets in trouble.”
“So…um…why isn’t anyone practicing?”
“Practicing what?”
“Fencing.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, the weather’s been bad lately, so we haven’t really bothered. It’ll be nice out tonight, so we should definitely get some practice in.”
What did weather and night have to do with fencing? “I’m not sure I understand.”
"Oh, you’re new to this? You can borrow some equipment, but we don’t have a lot to spare at the moment. I guess we can skip the wait if you don’t have goggles yet. More risky, but hey, that’s half the run. Oh, I just realized I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Jaclyn.
“Alright, which one of you assholes is going to join us? I’m not going to show the newbie the ropes alone, so I need at least one more. Nobody? Ok, Miguel, you’re coming with us.”
“Dammit! Make Eric do it if it’s a day run. He needs the exercise more than I do!”
“Nope, Eric got caught last time and there’s only so many times we can weasel out way out of it. Come on.”
“Fine, but I’m not sharing my gear.”
Maryann finally mustered the nerve to speak up again. “What is going on? Day run? Weather? This is fencing, right?”
“Of course. Do you have any equipment?”
“I didn’t bring it this time, since I wasn’t sure if there would be anyone here, but I’ll bring it next time.”
“Okay. Miguel, grab her some clay and a bottle of the spray. I think Mrs. Henderson finally replaced hers, so it’s about time we pay a visit.”
Maryann got a bad feeling about this. Maybe she should just leave? “On second thought, maybe this isn’t a good time…” she stammered.
“Really? Going to abandon us without even trying? Are you some kind of quitter?” Miguel scoffed.
Oh, there it was. Yep, any second now…aaaand now she was going to go because she couldn’t get the stubbornness center of her brain to shut up. Good job, me!
…
“Ok, we’re here. Miguel, you can be the distraction this time, we’ll get the work done.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I’ve done it now. Mom always said I’d fall in with a bad crowd.
“Okay, newbie, follow me,” Jaclyn said, tone lowered, as they moved around the back of someone’s yard. “This is Mrs. Henderson’s place. She got a new one, so we’re going to take care of it.”
“A new what? Are you going to steal something?”
Jaclyn looked offended. “Of course not! We’re fencers, not thieves.”
“You clearly aren’t fencers. I bet you’ve never even held a sword.”
“Why would I need a sword to fence?”
Oh, so her suspicion was correct. Wonderful. If this went bad she’d have a criminal record and never live it down with her straight-laced family.
“Look, I don’t want to have anything to do with stolen goods, even if we’re just selling them.”
“What the fuck does stolen goods have to do with anything?”
“Isn’t that what fencing is?”
“Oh God. Do you have a time machine? Did you fall into ice and get frozen?”
“What?”
“Because you clearly aren’t from this century. Look, I’ll show you what fencing means now. Watch.”
Jaclyn pulled a small handsaw from her bag. Kneeling down, she began to saw through one of the boards in the fence, leaving only a thin sliver on the inside edge of the fence. Then she pushed it until it finally gave, breaking with a soft snapping sound.
“Now, I just need the right clay. Ok, this one matches. Close enough, anyway.”
She pulled out some clay and applied it to the end of the broken board, before sticking the two back together. If you didn’t know what to look for, it wouldn’t even be noticeable.
“Right, now we apply the spray.”
She took out a container and sprayed the board. It smelled like tomato sauce. Maryann was completely lost by now.
“Okay, now we hide and wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“Watch and see. Come on, this’ll be great.”
What the fuck was going on?
…
“Smawty smeww sketties!”
The sound drew a fit of giggling from Jaclyn, and Maryann’s confusion somehow deepened even further. “Watch,” Jaclyn whispered. The fluffy, no, the smarty, lead his herd to the fence. “Dummeh waww! Wet smawty an’ hewd in! Wan sketties!”
The herd began to push against the fence, but their effort was futile. Until one pushed against the weakened portion, which gave without resistance. Seeing this, the herd flooded into the yard, yelling about spaghetti and about how this was “Smawty’s wand nao!”
Then, there came shouting, human and fluffy, increasingly loudly, until there was a meaty thunk sound, shrieks of horror, and the herd began flooding back out of the whole in the fence, missing the smarty. Maryann almost screamed when the smarty’s head landed in front of her.
Jaclyn was quietly laughing, covering her mouth to suppress the sound. “That was great! Mrs. Henderson is great with the shovel! She’s my favorite! Sometimes she’ll even cut the smarty’s dick off and make him eat it before she gets him for good!”
“I don’t get it,” Maryann snapped, finally through with this shit. “Why even bother? What’s the point? Is it really so much fun to see fluffies die?”
“Fluffy. Singular. It’s always the same smarty, at least for Mrs. Henderson.”
“What the fuck are you on about?”
“It’s always the same smarty. If we do this again next week you’ll see. Always red, always bratty, always has a scar over his right eye. Look,” she rolled over the head, and the right eye did indeed have a scar.
“I don’t get it. What are you doing? What is fencing? How do you know all this? Why weaken a fence just to let a smarty run in and die?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Because if we don’t the plot doesn’t happen, and the omniscient watchers can’t write stupid stories about it.”
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i do not know how to feel about this one lol
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Imagine having to find another way.
Good read and herd invasion trope critique.
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