Tuesday, February 01, 2011

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLII

Miss Pringle is having a bad week.

As if Zelig pulling down her precious sign and slapping her on the bottom weren't enough, Sir Integra had personally requested the lab begin running tests on my voice.

And then there was the bulletin board.

Oh , how she hated that bulletin board.

Not only had Dr. Levin ignored her protests and decided to put up a bulletin board where the "No singing" sign used to be but he had decided to put up Zelig's bulletin board.

All of it.

Down to the last burnished brass hook and Velcro pen holder. And when "Mr. Dollneaz" (batt, batt, batt, eyelashes) had approved the expense, there was nothing she could say without sounding like the mean evil harpy that she is. (Oops, not nice Corrine. Not nice. I am sometimes glad no one will ever read this journal.)

It seems Miss Pringle, and possibly Sir Integra, are the only denizens of Hellsing immune to the fascination of watching Zelig's brilliant, demented mind at work. Because when he goes into full blown temperamental artist mode he is a wonder to behold.

This wasn't an installation, it was performance art.

Zelig sailed into the lab and began tearing into boxes, leaping about and spinning like a Tasmanian devil cartoon. Within minutes he managed to cover every surface in the lab with bits and pieces of his project and litter the floor with packing debris and rejected parts. He then strutted about barking orders while Miss Pringle grimly chased after him with a trash bag.

"Don't touch that woman!" He shouted as she picked up a ripped up piece of box lid. "It's important."

"It's cardboard."

"Do I tell you how to do your job? Do I tell you how to stick needles in Victoria's arm?"

"Yes, actually, you do."

"Well you should listen. My way looked better. Now put that down and stop messing with my system."

"This is not a system, this is chaos!"

"Exactly." Said Zelig smugly. "So stop trying to organize it."

"You're impossible."

"Then go away! Honestly, I hate working with amateurs."

Pip, pap, pip.

"What's that noise?" Demanded Miss Pringle.

I had found a stray piece of bubble wrap and was fiddling about while Andrew stuck the EEG contact pads in my hair.

"Who cares?" Said Zelig. "Hey! Give that back!" He bellowed snatching a small empty bag from her hand. "I can use that. Can put lots of little bits and bobs in a bag like that and you throwing it away."

"Its got a hole in it!"

"Course it does, it's a bag."

"No, I mean the bottom."

He gave her a disgusted look as he tied a knot in the ripped corner. "Really Pringle, that solution would have been obvious to anyone who had even the most rudimentary of problem solving skills."

"Or you could just put all of your loose screws in one of the dozen or so not torn bags you have tossed on the floor."

"All the bags in the world wouldn't hold his loose screws." Muttered Stewart as he booted up his laptop.

Pippy pap, pap, pap. I had found another piece of bubble wrap and was sharing with Seras.

"You see this? " He said waiving the bag at her. "This is why there is a hole in the ozone layer! People like you just throwing trash away like it was garbage."

Stewart snorted.

Miss Pringle worked her way through that sentence and sucked in a breath to retort bu,t unfortunately, Griffin stepped in first.

********Which brings us to the actual worst part of Miss Pringle's week.
It wasn't being forced to listen to me sing nor was it Dr. Levin's and Walter's betrayal in authorizing the bulletin board [which later turned out to be mostly an excuse for Dr. Levin to study Zelig so he could publish what would eventually become an award winning article for Mental Health Practice magazine.]. It wasn't even having to deal with Zelig, It was Griffin. All '6.7' 265 pounds of him. And he was, it seems, in love. Well, obsessed anyway. It seems Zelig's quip about Griffin liking high strung women was true because from the moment he walked in to "assist" Zelig, Griffin had been panting after Miss Pringle in a big way. He took one look at her and muttered something to Zelig about little white hats and sensible shoes and movies he had seen that started with... Never mind, I can't repeat it. Long story short, he had quickly found an excuse to remove both his jacket and his uniform shirt and prowl around the lab after Miss Pringle in his Gold's Gym muscle tee rippling and flexing and asking her barely appropriate medical questions. He was doing his best to impress her and she was doing her best to avoid eye contact. So when Griffin, jealous of her attention, broke in to her argument with Zelig, Miss Pringle gasped quietly and began to edge away from the wall of muscle stalking her. ********

"Aww, Nurse Pringle," He said. "why ya wastin time on arguing with him? Figti'n with Zelig's like trying to tunnel through a sand dune with a shovel. Ya get all hot 'n' itchy and ya wind up nowheres.

Only way to win an argument with Zelig is ta beat him to a bloody pulp. And even then half the time he'll just call it a draw."

"It's true," Said Zelig proudly as if Griffin were complementing him. "I'm an excellent debater."

"Listen baby," Growled Griffin in a low voice as he loomed over her (I couldn't tell if he was doing a bad Barry White imitation or just had something caught in his throat.). "If you want ta get all hot 'n' itchy, I can think of lots of better ways to go about it."

She continued to edge away and he continued to stalk her until he had backed her into a corner. She deftly grabbed a chair and pulled it between them.

"And maybe, if you ask real nice, I'll help you 'win' that argument with Zelig." He said, smacking a meaty fist into his open palm. He then braced his arm against the wall by her head, leaned in and said, "I's got the tools and the talent for both." He flexed his biceps. "Wann'a see?"

"That won't be necessary Mr. Griffin." She said coldly.

"Are you sure? I ain't shown you all the tools yet."

"No."

"Just a little peek."

"Mr. Griffin, back away at once."

"Not till you give us a kiss." He leered.

She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

"I promise baby, once you sample the goods, your gonna wanna buy..... Whaddaya say nurse, Pringle?"

She smiled and leaned towards him, hands still tightly gripping the chair.

Griffin raised his eyebrows and leaned in for his kiss not noticing the chair slowly lifting from the floor...

Wham! She slammed one of the chair legs down on his foot.

Griffin yelped and jumped back surprised. Then looked down at her and chuckled. "Zelig's right. You are a mean one."

She snorted derisively and hefted the chair menacingly.

"I like them mean."

"Oh yes?" She said and swung the chair at him.

He neatly stepped outside of her swing, darting back in while she was off balance and planting a big wet kiss on her cheek then merrily danced away before she could get him on the backstroke.

"Her problem was aiming for the legs." I whispered to Andrew. "You should always go for body mass."

"Unless it's a ghoul." Whispered Seras. "Then you want to aim for the heart or the head."

"She's not trying to kill him Victoria" Said Stewart. "...I think."

"Well, then, Corrine's right. Body shot is best then."

"Good form though." I said.

"Yes." She agreed. "Lots of energy in the swing."

Andrew turned his head to hide his grin.

I handed him a piece of bubble wrap.

"Damn you look sweet." Said Griffin to a seething Miss Pringle.

Zelig looked up from a pile of clipboards he was detailing with an annoyed expression. "Are we working or are we chatting up birds here? Come on Griffin, help me get this LCD mounted."

"I'll call you." Said Griffin over his shoulder as he strolled over to Zelig. He then made a big show of rippling his muscles as he lifted the heavy screen .

Miss Pringle stuck her nose up in the air and marched into Dr. Levin's office to give her hourly report (10 minutes early but who's counting).

I shook my head ruefully. "Do lines like that ever work?" Pippity pap pippty.

"You'd be surprised." Said Stewart.

"Well they shan't work on her." Said Andrew loyally. Pap,pop,pop.

"You'd be surprised." Said Stewart again.

"Not our Miss Pringle." Insisted Andrew.

"Care to..." Pop, pop, pappty, pop. "Give over Corrine!" Said Andrew, taking away my bubble wrap and handing me some sheet music to choose from.

"Sorry."

"Care to wager on that?" He asked Andrew.

"It's not going to happen." Said Andrew.

"Ten quid says their snogging by the end of the month."

"Done." Said Andrew reaching for his wallet.

"Victoria?"

"I don't know," Said Seras. "She seem to desperately hate him but..."

"But what?"

"But there was this kind of gleam in her eye when she swung at him..." She pondered a moment. "I'll wager a fiver."

"Covered. Corrine?"

"You're sick you know that?"

"No from Corrine. Zelig!?"

"What?"

"Book on the Ice maiden"

"Excellent! Details?"

"Straight odds. Snogging by the end of the month."

"I'll bet with the house."

"Fine, you can cover Victoria's five. Corrine's holding the money." He said holding out a 10 pound note to me.

"What? Why me?"

"Cause you're not betting."

"I don't want to." I said pushing Stewart's hand away.

"Come on Corrine." Said Zelig. "It's an honour to hold the money."

"No. This bet is immoral and I want no part of it!"

"I'll give you back your bubble wrap."

"Done." I said holding out my hand. Miss Pringle choose that moment to stroll back into the lab so I had to quickly stuff the money down my shirt as I had no pockets and try not to look guilty (Griffin spent much of the rest of the afternoon trying to get me to change 20).

Miss Pringle gave our little group a disdainful look and stalked to her desk to ignore us and do paperwork.

Pippty, pop, pippt pop. Went Seras, Andrew, and I. As Stewart finished calibrating his machines.

Miss Pringle gritted her teeth, gripped her pencil tightly and continued to write.

"How about a sound level check?" Said Stewart.

We grinned and complied. Pop, pip, pip, pap, pop, pop,pop, papptity, pappity, pop, pop...

"Stop that infernal noise this instant!" Shouted Miss Pringle as she launched herself out of her chair towards us. She first snatched away Andrew's bubble wrap then mine. She reached for Seras' but thought better of it when she growled at her.

"Oi!" Barked Seras. "Get your own!"

"This plastic wrap is not a toy!" She said jabbing her finger at us. "So stop playing with it! What if it's needed to wrap parts back up? It's of no use if you've popped all the bubbles!"

"What's she going on about now?" Asked Zelig.

Griffin whispered into his ear.

"Bubble wrap? Are you kidding me?" He glared at Miss Pringle. "It's just bits of bubble wrap. I've got rolls of it back in the barracks. What's wrong with you? I'm trying to work here!" He was quiet a moment. "It is the final purpose of bubble wrapped to be popped." He said philosophically. "It is, its destiny." He smiled benignly at her. "Besides, it makes the most delightful sound when you pop it don't you think? Quite addictive actually."

We all nodded at his sage wisdom. Except of course for Miss Pringle.

"you're all just deliberately trying to provoke me but it won't work!" She said slamming the bubble wrap in her hand onto a counter. Unfortunately her hand clipped the edge of a small box, flipping it up in the air end over end and spraying foam packing peanuts everywhere.

No one made a sound.

Miss Pringle calmly straightened her back and smoothed down her dress.

"Miss Pringle." Said Andrew timidly. "You've got a little something in your..." He pointed to her head.

She reached up and plucked a packing peanut from where it had landed in her hat. She glared a moment at the offending object before grinding it to dust, probably pretending it was one of our heads.

"Hey!" Shouted Zelig. "What are you doing? I save those, I use those!"

"No." She said calmly. "I refuse to believe that."

"Is she calling me a liar?" asked Zelig angerly.

"fraid so." Said Griffin.

"Are you calling me a liar?!" He shouted.

"Yes." Said Miss Pringle.

"You shouldn't call him a liar nurse Pringle." Said Griffin. "He don't like it."

"Well then, he should stop lying. Shouldn't he?" She said smiling condescendingly.

Zelig started puffing up again and turning purple. "You..."

"Actually Miss," Said Stewart urgently. "he uses them all the time."

"Oh really?"

"Yes Miss. He uses them to make explosives."

She stared at him non-plussed.

"Apparently, they're so common, it makes it hard to trace. Harder to prove who did it in court. If you know what I mean miss."

"Acquitted of all charges." Said Zelig proudly.

"That you were Bertie." Said Stewart.

"But these are the white packing peanuts." Said Zelig. "I mostly use those in potting soil. Helps the drainage."

Miss Pringle's jaw snapped shut.

"Now the pink ones, they make excellent explosives. They burn pretty too, but not the green ones, I'm not sure why that is. Of course, I never use the colored ones in the potting soil. Chemicals might hurt the plants."

Miss Pringle turned without a word and walked into Dr. Levin's office. She shoved Dr. Levin,who was scribbling furiously in his notebook, out of his office and locked the door.