think of a wonderful thought, any merry little thought. think of christmas, think of snow; think of sleigh bells off you go! Like a reindeer in the sky, you can fly! you can fly! you can fly!
“I remember hearing Milt Kahl lecture about animation one time, and he said that one of the real challenges for him was animating weightlessness. Animating a character who is sort of floating in mid-air. Not flying, but just sort of floating. It’s details like that that we in the audience are not supposed to think about, of course we shouldn’t. We’re involved in the story.” - Leonard Maltin, film critic and historian
“NOW THAT SOUNDS AWFUL, DOESN’T it? i mean we’d still be fun, probably still living in trees, but we’d probably need a pulley system to get up in ‘em. though that’d be fun to design. and we could probably color in the wrinkles with magic markers and have stripes.”
“we could come up with our own language and then no one aside from us, noah, and the rest are saying to each other.” he nodded in agreement with what he said about essays. “waste of time and more annoying then helpful. i hate ‘em. never learned anything by writing one aside from how much i hate ‘em.”
“i think we’d be the funnest old people ever. why, it only makes sense, because we’ve always the funnest! magic markers and stripes… huh! how about that? not only would we be the funnest, but also the most fashionable! my stripes would be green, ‘n maybe a couple of ‘em would be sparkly too.”
“say, we should make our own language! then when we talk, people’ll ask what we’re sayin, and we won’t tell ‘em!” he concludes with a laugh. “how funny’d that be?” nodding at what the other said about essays, pax shifted one leg over the other and picked up a tea tin in one hand, examining it without purpose. it was more or less just so he had something to do with his hands. “they should be illegal. don’t do nothin’ but waste your time 'n stress y’out. what’s this essay a’yours gonna be on?”
JANE LAUGHED A LITTLE, THINKING about the guards and the boys playing tricks on them. “i wonder if they thought the mall was haunted after that? especially since they never saw or caught you.” she might have and she didn’t really believe in ghosts much. she certainly thought there were places with energy, but not so much ghosts. “it was still brave. i’ve known many people that would’ve tried to pin it to someone else.”
there weren’t many memories that truly stuck with him, even in present day, but the adventures he went on with the lost boys were all ingrained in his mind, and held close to his heart. he could go an entire day telling stories of himself and the lost boys and would only cover very small ground. “oh, i’d say! we never saw ‘em again after that… maybe it frightened ‘em too much ‘n they quit their jobs!” he laughed. “pinnin’ things on others is cowardly. plus, i’m the leader! a good leader takes responsibilityand the blame.”
“OOH ICE CREAM! I FORGOT about ice cream. ah, brain freezes and nights of dairy intolerance gas.” she smiled fondly over it the memories that flashed through her head. her eyebrows went together, confused over his disdain for bee stings, but still she nodded along and kept her smile. “i’ve been there. one time i got stung like eleven times and i connected the dots with a sharpie. flo was horrified and yelled at me for not taking it seriously, but the doctor thought i was a fantastic artist and peter laughed for three weeks.”
poncho smiled at her words. he knew it to be true. “what is your favourite flavour of ice cream?” he queried, wondering if they should seek out the chilled brain freezing snack for themselves. “eleven bee stings?” it must have been very painful, he thought. or, maybe, she’s simply invincible to bee stings… “what shape did it make when you connected the dots? i imagine it to be wonderful art, too.”
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