Odd, quirky and more than little random. Jango, nephew of Mann Englebert, the head of state in Mutantopia, is sent to an elite boarding school. However, he is also the target of a feared hitman.
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“Your name, please?” said the ‘Bold recruitment officer, choosing against actually looking at his interviewee in favour of keeping his eyes fixed on the form, ready to write whatever was said.1 /
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A new day dawned. This was not something Jango was used to seeing. What he was used to was watching the sun go down, going to bed some considerable time after it had done so and waking up at about midday to find it back in th
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It was evening at St. Winston’s School and the pupils were starting to drift in from the surrounding fields towards the dining hall in the main castle building, a medley of delightful aromas wafting a twisting pattern out thr
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Jango woke to a sharp knocking from a couple of feet above him, opening his eyes to see a face where he remembered there being plaster. “Morning. Up, please. Breakfast in fifteen.” The face was that of Lionel, the bored prefe
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“Observe this crest, the traditional crest of St. Winston’s, a crest which our uniform manufacturers have gone to great effort to embroider on all of your school blazers and which you will also see in many varied locations th
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“Is anyone else a bit, well, bored?” Jango, having spent his first full day with his fellow dormitory 8-ers, felt more comfortable with actually talking to them, allowing him to revert to the position he was most proficient a
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“I think you’re going to do well for me,” said Mann proudly. “I can usually tell with these things you know.” He was leading Albert across
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The common room that evening was unusually empty, with many of the boarders apparently at a party being held in Bob House. As such, it was
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“Come on, Theo,” said Sandeep in a hushed whisper across the back of the Maths room. “When are you going to tell us what he said?”1 / “What
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“Wakey, wakey!”1 / Jango, if he had possessed the energy, would have at that moment reacted by springing about two feet into the air and glancing around madly in search of his mystery hailer, who2800 words, on Jan 12 9:26 AM 2008
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“I swear you can get Herpes like this,” muttered Felix.1 / “What, being out in nothing but cold pants?” replied Jango, looking confused. “I thought it was an STD.”2 /
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The interior of the shed was, well, the interior of a shed. A bit bigger than the norm, perhaps, no tools hanging from the walls, a little less sawdust on the floor, but it was still a shed. Damp was doing its best to destroy
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One o’clock in the afternoon. The rain had finally taken pity on those below and abated, leaving that post-downpour cool dampness that tends to make everything seem alright again. Well, almost everything.1
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Tuesday grew overcast and unappealing, the grey overhead doing nothing to dampen the excited spirits of the pupils as they skipped and danc
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Charlie braced himself and pressed the button. The showers at St. Winston’s were designed to come as the rudest, most violent shock that any human body could experience. They allowed no leeway, no matter what culture or clime
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Thursday night flickered weakly in distant candlelight. The owl, which Jango was now convinced had been hired expressly for the purpose of
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It was a pleasant night, not exactly warm, but not exactly cold either. The air was still and there was barely a sound to be heard outside.
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