Title: Cousin on the Loose (1/1) Author: Cousin Shelley Faction: Cousins Date: Wednesday, November 10th, 2004 Time: Around 3:00pm During and After: Cousins Just Wanna Have Fun Disclaimers: All participants used with permission. Sitting in the back of the van heading towards the DP Mansion, Shelley was ready for action. Dressed in her black jeans and dark blue sweatshirt, she was as cloaked as she got. Besides, it was broad daylight. Agent Talon was looking at her suspiciously, prompting Shelley to behave in a very mature fashion. She was making faces at the GSS agent. Finally, he could take no more. "Why *advertise* you are insane?" he asked, indicating the white letters on her sweatshirt. Shelley sighed. Perhaps when she and Bonnie had named the Union, they should have thought out what the acronym would look like just a little better. "It's not 'insane', it's 'I.N.S.A.N.E.' ... there IS a difference." Talon shrugged his shoulders and decided to not bate the cousinly janitor. Being driven insane was, after all, part of her job description. Who was he to question the General on these matters? The van came to a stop and Becky got out to deal with the dogs. Kezia took her place up in the front seat, ready to hand out the rawhide ears. Shelley sat ready to help where ever she was needed most. As the dogs got in the van, the cousins got out. Shelley stood by, watching Marci with interest. "You are getting very relaxed," she was saying to the two Dark Perks. "Relaxed," Shelley echoed in agreement. "So relaxed, you feel sleepy...." "Sleepy," Shelley replied with a yawn. "You will follow my instructions...." "Follow ... Follow...." She was so sleepy, she could for the life of her remember what she was supposed to follow. The word 'follow' echoed in her brain. The rest of the cousins were all busy with their various functions and failed to notice that Shelley was standing with her eyes half closed, looking WAY too relaxed for a cousin on an attack. She was currently muttering, "Follow...." too softly for anyone to hear. As Talon received the access cards and headed for the mansion, Shelley suddenly noticed him saluting and sneaking away. "Follow," she said saluting in a perfect imitation of the GSS agent. She then quickly and quietly took off after him as he entered the mansion with the access cards. As Talon veered back and to the left towards the kitchen, Shelley struck off to the right towards rooms unknown. ------------- Shelley was a bit confused. Looking around, she could find no one to follow. She had been wandering around the DP mansion for a while now, so she decided maybe she needed to find Talon again. Maybe she was supposed to follow only him? It was very annoying when these hypnotic instructions were so very vague. Striking off to her left, she eventually came to the kitchen. Seeing several DPs in conversation, she smiled. More people to follow. But, which one? Cursing her vague and unclear instructions once again, she decided to hide in the small utility closet located by the kitchen door. That way, she could observe the DPs discretely and wait for more vague and unclear instructions. Opening the door quietly, she slipped inside. The sight that greeted her rather glazed eyes was beautiful. Bottles of Mr. Clean(tm). Mops. Windex(tm). Old rags. Orange cleaner! She nearly passed out from the sheer excitement. She began caressing a mop and holding a bottle of orange cleaner lovingly; the DPs in the next room completely forgotten. In this state of cleaning supply rapture, Shelley failed to hear much of what was going on. How long she stood there cradling the cleaning supplies is anyone's guess. Suddenly, she heard a sound. The distinct sound of someone *giggling*. 'That was odd,' she thought to herself. It suddenly occurred to her that she was deep in the DP mansion, after an attack, with no one to follow. And, even orange cleaner wasn't going to help with that sticky situation. "It's a good thing you bought all that cleaning stuff, though," one of the DPs was saying. Shelley got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she held tight to the mop handle. Idly, she wondered if they would let her mop the kitchen floor. Somewhere deep in the suppressed portions of her brain, she knew she should be panicking. Or following. Or hiding. Or something. The door to the closet opened, revealing Shelley holding the mop and orange cleaner. The DP standing there looked at her for a moment, then said, "And it looks like we have another mess in here." At the word "mess" Shelley was further conflicted. Should she clean up the mess? Should she follow this DP? Should she run screaming through the mansion? As she pondered the possibilities, her much too addled brain reached critical mass. Still clutching the bottle of orange cleaner, she promptly passed out.