REQUEST TIME: SON OF PUZZLE
I know the fanworks meme is in full swing (and I'm actually working on a prompt for it that is slowly but surely turning into EPIC), so this might be a little bit redundant, but the last go-around was fun, so I thought I'd go again...
FIC REQUEST TIEM!Same basic rules apply: watch the ratings, watch out for pairings (because I know I'm in the ( Read more... )
FIC REQUEST TIEM!Same basic rules apply: watch the ratings, watch out for pairings (because I know I'm in the ( Read more... )
All of the children brought their science projects in for the show that day. Their parents were coming, and they would all get to show off what they had spent so much time working on. And then they would choose a winner from all the projects.
Little Paulie was determined that his would win. How could it possibly lose? He already knew that he was brilliant at science, even as young as he was, and his project was decidedly amazing. He had actually found a way to create electricity using two potatoes, some string, a plaid oven mitt, and a very stressed gerbil. He could actually make a lightbulb turn on it with it!
Oh yeah. He was going to win.
The other kids displayed their works. He privately thought that they were pathetic, but he said nothing. And when it was finally his turn and the lightbulb flickered to life, the audience ooh-ed and aah-ed appreciatively, just as they were supposed to, and applauded a bit more loudly than they had for some of the others. This was so easy…
The teacher stood up. “And now the final project for today, Hershel Layton.”
And Paul found himself gaping in amazement as the other boy proudly presented a full-blown perpetual motion machine, something that had previously been called impossible.
He gaped even more when Layton won the first prize.
And he was still gaping when the one who had stolen his victory wandered up to him and offered him a handshake. “Paul! I really liked your project!” Hershel said with a smile.
…he liked the project? What kind of nonsense was that? It was an affront, an insult! And while the stupid Layton was holding that stupid trophy? Oooh, this meant war. Paul made a promise then and there. He would get Hershel Layton, sooner or later. He would GET HIM.
But the final insult didn’t really come until nearly three decades later, when he confronted Layton in the home of a wealthy baron, recently deceased, his ruse having been discovered by the very person he had been so eager to trap with it. He dropped his disguise, now using the name Don Paolo. It sounded more evil. And he was certain that his old rival would know him and tremble at the sight of him!
And Layton didn’t have a bloody clue who he was.
…well, wasn’t that just wonderful.
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