Because the original entries of the First Robyn Hoodie saga were wiped out when a meteor took out the Hootoo memory banks, the original story can be found below as a work in progress (I'll try to get the formatting back): Good luck.

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Robyn Hoodie: That's not my Apocalypse! (mine's RED)

This is my contribution to the "Twice told tales" challenge. Share and enjoy!

Whatever would happen if Robin Hood and Little Red Riding Hood collided and fused in a COVID lockdown setting?

Read the adventures of Robyn Hoodie and her band of merry (not married) girls from the diary (sometimes dairy) entries of her sort of twin brother.

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Robyn Hoodie chapter 1: Dear diary

Once upon a time there lived in a momentarily undefined suburb a quite tall city girl. She is the prettiest creature who was ever seen, according to herself, at least. She is also my nearly twin sister. Personally I would like to become acquainted with quite a large sample group of girls for reasons of comparison, before making any commitments on that "prettiest of all" statement. Especially since she is my sister, which means my only hope and option would be to go for second best... (you can call me naive, just not to my face).

My parents deemed it appropriate to call her Robyn, for reasons now lost in time. I imagine there may have been a row about whether it would be a good idea to call her after a naughty bird or after a red gemstone, resulting in this compromise. At age four this led to the introduction of the Robypsilonn discussion when my sister was learning to write (I still remember the cries: 'Why couldn't you just use an 'I' like everyone else'? Y would have done that').

She also decided the mere fact that she was born nine and a half months later was no reason to not consider me her twin brother, claiming that on a geological scale she was right. Sweet, isn't she?

COVID restrictions mean that the Sherwoodsburgh secondary school is now off limits. With school moved online in its entirety, Robyn has vowed to now wear her bright red hoody and her fleece blanket until all this is over. Luckily, Mom managed to get some spare hoodies before the shops had to close as well, or we would now be living in a biohazard area.

Robyn is the Captain of the band of 'Girl Geeks Trying to Save the World (or part thereof)'. Being of the wrong persuasion, I am tolerated as non-voting Novice (after a failed attempt at setting up my own Cube Earth Society). Other members include Joan of Arcwelding class, Curious Mary who loves Curry with 'Lange vingers' and Allana Dale who tends to break out in song for no apparent reason.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 2: Online education' Right'..

The world of online education is a tricky place.

Teachers think the new homework planning software is just amazing. Pupils and their parents think is just a maze. Each faculty has made up its own rules on how to enter your digital assignments for grading, unless the teacher decides to deviate from that as well. Most of them do' Some want the original documents, others want you to take a photo and send it by either e-mail, online platform chat, the homework planning software (three different ways of posting anything there), a Cloud file folder for a specific meeting, chiselling it into stone tablets and burying those at a predetermined location on a full moon'.

After the umpteenth argument about allegedly missed homework, Robyn devised her 'Relativity Theory of Homework', which I will now present to you: When asked whether a specific piece of homework has been finished, the default answer of "Yes, of course" invariably means: Yes, I may or may not have made / will make my homework in the past or future. Definitely not in the present as I am answering your question right now. The quantum homework waveform collapses when the workbook is opened by, or at the orders of an adult. This is highly dangerous and should be prevented at all cost, as special relativity dictates that a black hole could open up, causing the end of the world. (at least in this household). What Einstein missed in the interconnectedness of mass, energy and the speed of light squared to explain gravity, may well be the as yet unquantified factor of Wi-Fi connectivity, which is a quantum factor all by itself. This is called 'Extra Special Relativity' and can sometimes be resolved with string theory, a.k.a. hardwired internet. In the end the adults will let you see the gravity of the situation, indicating that even parents have a role in the Theory of Everything. By then, even the speed of light squared will be insufficient to fix the missing homework conundrum.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 3: Digital math lesson

I walked in on the online Math lesson Robyn was supposed to follow. The teacher droned on at around 100 Hertz for 55 of his assigned 50 minutes. Robyn, hearing the low voice of the Maths teacher, was at first afraid, but not for long, even though the teacher suggested there might be some Lissajous figures in the bonus material. Interesting as this may seem, my sister soon phased out, posting the following Socio-mathematic experiment to the boys in her class instead:

(x = 16*sin(t)3, y = 13*cos(t) - 5*cos(2t) - 2*cos(3t) - cos(4t)) .

She is still waiting for a Prince Charming to present her with the following graph:

(Heart shape)

During the next lesson, Robyn proclaimed that putting the teacher on MUTE would greatly improve the cognitive value of the maths lessons. It also fitted with mom's credo of 'Don't listen to strange men! They can be dangerous!' or something like that anyway.

Then I checked in Oxford concise....

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MUTE (adjective)

/mju:t/

1 not speaking; not expressed in speech

SYNONYM: silent

-The child sat mute in the corner of the room.

-a look of mute appeal.

2 (old-fashioned, offensive) (of a person) unable to speak

SYNONYM: dumb

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Since the teacher was definitely speaking, though unheard, Robyn probably meant that she found the man old-fashioned, offensive and dumb.

None of her schoolmates felt the urge to mention any of this to the teacher, especially the boys.

Those four hours of fresh spare time a week meant that Robyn could start working on her world-saving project, the invention of the electric unicycle.

Here are some of the research notes I found on the floor:

' PID control to avoid falling over or being pelted from the saddle

' Low centre of gravity. Put the batteries in the wheel.

' Bright colours! (like black...)

' Will it fall over when the batteries run out?

' Will shoulder-mounted solar panels be too much cutting edge technology to other road users?

Robyn Hoodie chapter 4: Research challenges

Together with Robyn, I went to see grandmother lady Mary-Anne, to borrow her experimental robotics kit for research purposes in the electric unicycle project. When we knocked on her door she hollered 'Solve the Sudoku puzzle! The latch from the Locksley will lift automatically!'. Prepared as we were, Robyn opened her self-programmed Sudoku solver on her phone to let us in. Once inside the musty air made our eyes water. After we disinfected our hands with the bottle of gin in the hallway, we found Grandma lying on top of her bed with a hoodie pulled over her eyes. Food wrappers littered the immediate surroundings of the bed. All this was meant to get her tuned in to the adolescent mindset of the lockdown, or so she said. This revelation was followed by a muffled: 'Could you chuck some snacks in Air-fryar Tuck? Otherwise I might accidentally eat YOU instead'. After selecting the snacks that didn't appear to move under their own power when hit with a wooden spatula and submitting them to the Power of Electricity, the smell of naughty calories started to fill Grandma's condo. This was a definite improvement. Meanwhile, Gramps had left the confines of the bedroom and was pouring herself a glass of red port. ' Grandma, what a huge glass you have there'?', Robyn inquired. ' That is so that I won't get thirsty my little girl''. Sis plodded on in an annoyed tone 'But Grandma, what big eyes you have'?'. 'Oh well, I'll put on my normal glasses instead of the X-ray ones then, shall I?'. 'But Grandma, what a huge and bulky mouth mask you have!!!'. 'That's to scare off the COVIDs' I knit it meself, you know. Took me ages to remember how to knit a heel, and I added the button-down porthole to allow eating just in time for dinner.'. The beep from the air fryer saved us from having to ask any of the more embarrassing questions.

When all the snacks had been consumed, Grandmother asked the all-important question: ' Did you like my homemade Canis Lupus Croquettes? I made them special after the incident last week. Never throw away an opportunity to recycle, is all I am saying, especially with the shops closed'. This once again supported one of Robyn's earlier hypotheses that mayonnaise solves every culinary challenge.

Having retrieved the robotics kit, we then went back on our bikes, glad to be back in the fresh plane-less air, fleece blankets flying like a cape in a gale.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 5: The Big bad PEO

On our way home, we were stopped by a Poorly Equipped Officer. This is the kind that is not (yet) a fully trained police officer but is trying to compensate the lack of legal and weapons backup with sheer volume of voice.

'HALT!!!' it bellowed through its mask. 'Where are we going?!'.

That is not a wise thing to ask Robyn, because she has already exhausted all the possible outcomes of discussions on the invalidity of the 'We' in that sentence, as obviously, 'we' (which includes the PEO) were not going to go anywhere soon, by the look of it.

Eventually it transpired that the transpiring civil servant was tasked with enforcing COVID rules. (Sort of) Luckily, our parents had bribed us with fries for dinner to watch the latest Prime-ministerial pressco with simultaneous sign language interpreter, so we easily outwitted the man with the latest rule changes and some nice moves (panic buying looks great in sign language). This is once more proof that you can get away with anything if you pack it up in enough meaningless but official sounding jargon. Since this was way above his pay grade and pepper-spraying adolescents doesn't look good , he let us pass, mumbling 'Don't stray into the city centre, kiddos'. We didn't. There was no point, with all the shops closed. Anyway, we hadn't understood a word of what the man said, due to his mouth mask.

That would have been another legal loophole that we could have exploited, because on the one hand, there is a mouth mask obligation, while on the other hand, there is the law prohibiting face coverings in certain situations that was passed several years ago. (in order not to be discriminating it was formulated by the proposing right wing party to not just prohibit burkas and niqabs but also motorcycle helmets, buffs and other regular face coverings).

While on our way home again, we decided that if we ever got a job like that, we would definitely go Tolkien and get a robe, staff and pointy hat to scream 'YOU' Shall not' PAAAAASSSSSS!!!' at everyone, taking care not to ram the staff into our own foot, because that is embarrassing. Robyn mused that maybe mounting a taser at the end of that staff would be useful to assert authority.

For obvious legal and ethical reasons, we did not cut open the poorly equipped officer's belly to fill it with stones, although we do have a rather nice fifteenth century well house on the market square (but who drinks water these days?). Anyway, we didn't bring our sewing kit.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 6: Hybrid Biochemistry lesson

One of the subjects that gets my sister's attention most of the time, is Chemistry.

Things really got out of hand when the Biology teacher took over because 'An unfortunate Mishap' had occurred to the usual Chemistry teacher (apparently his toddler ate the Wi-Fi dongle). Declining to go into more detail had the virtual class at the edge of their smelly beds. Being of the practical persuasion, the Biology teacher set an assignment to do Chemistry with whatever was lying around in the kitchen cupboards.

How could he know? Thank Hoover for the precognitive powers that led my sister to start with a low dosage when trying to ignite some flour, dropping it from the loft bed in her bedroom. I mean, who needs eyebrows anyway? And the smell went away within a fortnight. It is also worth mentioning that the common hoodie does have some protective properties. Since she asked me to assist in the endeavour, I now know the origin of the word ' sideburns'.

Anyway, we were lucky. According to the national news channels one of Robyn's classmates' parents stored a bag of fertiliser and a can of fuel in the kitchen cupboard. They are still trying to locate the dog, although rumour has it that someone in the ISS saw it pass by at multiple times escape velocity, followed by a blooming cloud of roofing tile particles. In the meantime, the Council has proposed to repurpose the crater as an outdoor swimming pool, once the COVID regulations are lifted.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 7: Online PE

Because PE is a bit difficult to do online, the teachers had to come up with challenges. One of those was to come up with new sports to do from home. This led to some interesting suggestions. Robyn sulked for days after her idea of Hedgehog hunting was not accepted into the curriculum. She already finished fabricating her crossbow made out of clothes hangers, rubber bands and a PVC pipe and collected and sharpened enough pencils for ammunition to be a good contender for the title. The PE teacher argued that PE lessons were only during school hours, and hedgehogs are nocturnal animals. Robyn then replied that she didn't care if the hedgehogs were sleeping, as it would be all the more challenge to find some by daylight.

Since other new 'sports' included things like phone lifting under your blankets to the rhythm of 'Never gonna give you up', extended stretching while yawning and trying to get the world record mouse-clicks in one hour (preliminary trials showed that around 20.000 clicks should be possible), it was then decided that you should submit data to prove that you went outside for a walk and actually moved for at least 3 kilometres during the assigned PE hours. The ensuing discussion in the students app group yielded ever more exotic ways to obtain that data without actually going outside. Duct-taping your phone to the dog was quickly abandoned, as you would then still have to go outside to retrieve your phone (and the dog, of course). Creating a motorised pendulum for your phone seemed a winner until the teachers requested GPS tracking data as well. The final plan, an electric bike mounted pendulum (to simulate walking) is still under construction, but looks promising. In the meantime, Robyn was trying to plot a route on Maps that would spell out something obscene, but eventually she just walked the words 'At least three kilometres' on the field behind our house. That took her about 200 metres.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 8: The tails of Allana Dale

Allana joined the 'Girl Geeks Trying to Save the World (or part thereof)' group (A.k.a. GGTtStW(opt)) just before the lockdown, with a request for help with her Chris Crush. (This doesn't bother me as I have my eyes on the Fair Micelli twins in my own class)1. Allana's point of focus, Chris T. Abel, had fallen under the influence of the History teacher, old Miss Stephens, who was trying to get Chris to pose for her Really-Pre-Raphaelite ceramic painting project (not those Nineteenth century wannabe's), in order to reach a higher degree (the teacher, not Chris). In principle, this was a logical thing to do, as history shows that there have been much worse examples committed to an ornate vase. We suspect even Raphael would have agreed with his predecessors. The downside was that it took Chris out of reach for large periods of time. To resolve this problem, the plan was made to requisition the next History lesson for a popular vote.

Then Lockdown started, but against expectations, the posing sessions just moved online'

So it was time for an online plan, but that required some preparations. In her role as class influencer and potential crushee, Allana was wondering what hairstyle would have the most impact on-screen. The problems with a ponytail and a bun are that they are mostly invisible if you are not the type to move your head around constantly. Double tails to the side didn't have this problem, but might be sending the wrong message (like: I am still in primary school). As non-voting member of the GGTtStW(opt) I suggested that this was all moot, as long as she kept using that violent pink background. After much deliberation, Allana came up with her own version of the Coupe Corona, consisting of a large number of small pigtails, giving a general appearance rivalling the Statue of Liberty, then tweaking her shirt in a way that pulled away any attention from her hair, just in case. To get the whole picture complete, we changed the background colour to a friendly yellow colour with multi-coloured neon sprinkles.

Thus prepared, Robyn hijacked the History lesson with a poll giving the following options: Should our classmate Chris:

A- Be enslaved by the teacher for Fifteenth century pottery?

B- Follow his heart after being duly informed of alternative options, such as dating Allana?

C- Run for Prime Minister?

D- Do something else? (fill in what else you had in mind without breaching netiquette)

Since it was Robyn's poll, she could quickly present the slightly polished results to the class. (Variant D yielded quite some cases of 'Date me instead', which she considered a misplaced vote for B. Cases of C fall under long term objectives and can be ignored for the moment). All was settled after the History teacher was informed about a more recent technology called 'photography' that enabled Chris to pose for her project once, without being occupied all the time.

Being thoroughly peer pressured, Chris then sent Allana a very romantic bi-weekly online meeting invite to get to know her better and prepare for a future date sometime after the lockdown. The whole class then trolled the new couple with emojis for the rest of the day, including lots of eggplants and peaches, for some reason.

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1 I plan to take further action as soon as I am certain which one is which.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 9: Joan of Arcwelding class

Robyn first encountered Joan in the community centre, when taking arcwelding classes at age 12. Coming from France originally, she has an interesting akszent, with that low voice of hers. Appearance-wise, she reminds me of that 1974 rendition of the song 'Naturtr'ne' by Nina Hagen that I saw on YouTube recently, but with a French touch and some pieces of welding electrode stuck behind her ear. To be frank, she terrifies and intrigues me at the same time. Especially with that plate steel and leather articulated hoodie she made as her welding Masterpiece and which she has been unable to take off again since. For reasons unknown, she tends to stay indoors during thunderstorms. (And no, my name is not Frank, Franz or Francois, for that matter).

After one GGTtStW(opt) meeting, I plucked up the courage to ask Joan why she had left France in the first place. She told me that scrapping over some piece of extended lawn on horseback was 'de rigueur' in the old times, but that she decided to defeat the enemy from within. Anyway, she only inherited the Deux Chevaux of her mother, and you could hardly call that a decent cavalry, especially without a driver's license and rear view mirrors that scrape the tarmac even if you take corners at normal speed. (You could take a box of eggs through a ploughed field without breaking the eggs in it if fancy took you there, though). So now she was here, in the process of determining who the actual enemy could be. But once that is cleared, she will take no half measures' (quarter measures are so much cheaper).

Robyn Hoodie chapter 10: Curious Mary

Most boys are scared of Curious Mary. For a large part, this has to do with her infamous glow-in-the-dark lipstick. Nobody wants to be marked for life, especially if you are not yet fully committed to any one girl. The current estimates of the half-life radioactive decay of those kiss marks are still far into the double digit numbers. On dark winter days, you can trace Mary's love life back to kindergarten, which is when she invented that lipstick in the first place. For the same reason, Mary sometimes gets nicknamed 'Chess the Cat'. It can be creepy when a pair of lips is following you around in the dark. And that is when she isn't wearing her special contact lenses.

Apart from radiant Chemistry, she also loves Curries with 'Lange vingers' (sugar coated biscuit sticks, a.k.a. Ladyfingers, damskiye pal'chiki or Shouzhi binggan), which tends to be an only slightly less lethal combination anyway. Asked why she used the Dutch name for the cookies, she answered that, as with the Curry, it obviously had everything to do with an affair that her great example allegedly had with a Monsieur Langevin'

Last time I visited her private lab annex kitchen before the lockdown (I had to pick up some sort of potion for Robyn)1, Mary invited me for coffee. She told me that her Soxhlet extractor is a very efficient apparatus to produce a decent cup of coffee from a single bean, especially when running it overnight. Eventually, the trick is to add water and then distil the ethanol out before drinking it. Unless you are researching the much sought after magical mixture where caffeine sobriety exactly counters the alcoholic inebriation of course, like Mary's mother.

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1 She wouldnt tell me what kind of potion

Robyn Hoodie chapter 11: Bankruptcy of Knowledge of celestial life

Since the Sherwoodsburgh Secondary school is open for pupils from every creed or belief system, what used to be called religion was refurbished and now called 'Knowledge of Celestial Life', abbreviated to KCL. Discussions whether this discriminated people having a carnal rather than celestial belief system were crushed with the argument that Biology covered those subjects nicely. This led to the trend to refer to The Book of Biology, chapter Four, verse six (human procreation theory) in many KCL discussions.

According to Robyn, the KCL teacher, by the name of Peter Cauchon (a.k.a. Cochon, 'The Pig') started a crusade against Joan from the day she introduced that alternate French spelling. Robyn's pre-lockdown in-class consumption of crispy bacon sandwiches, Mary's prime pork impersonations and Allana's custom theme song didn't actually help damage control. Quite the contrary in fact.

Since KCL largely consisted of watching movies and discussing the socio-religious consequences of the actions and non-actions of the actors involved, the class proposed a vote on which movies would be appropriate. After a questionnaire had been passed round and most pupils turned out to be following the Jedi belief, it was then concluded that the most logical step was to start watching the full extent of the Star Wars' franchise.

Unfortunately, due to the crusade, Monsieur Cochon didn't allow any more Frenchising and made all classes watch 'The Wave' again, threatening to show the nachsynchronisierte 'Die Welle' next week, in the hope that the students would follow his commands without questioning. This didn't happen, which should be considered an A-class victory for the students, proving that they already got the point the movie was trying to make. Lockdown put a stop to the propaganda movies, since everybody was now (sort of) free to watch whatever they liked and turn the KCL hours into a movie and online gaming appreciation club.

Not content with this state of affairs, the teacher attempted to retaliate with an orchestrated roast of Joan, who, in his eyes, was the source of all this evil. This started with the teacher performing a rendition of 'Can-can' on a nose whistle for the main tune and a wine glass and pencil for the percussion as the orchestral element. The glass broke halfway through the piece. This was followed by the lighting of the single use barbeque on his desk and putting an old Barbie doll on it that was supposed to be an image of Joan (by means of some painter's tape with 'Joan' written on it), all the while chanting words of exorcism, spittle obscuring the camera more and more. When the man had finally finished his rant in Latin, the class said 'Amen!' in unison. Joan recovered magnificently by saying that her internet connection had just temporarily dropped out at the intro tune, asking whether she had missed anything'.? Then raising the stakes by asking if the teacher's camel hair caftan was supposed to be smoking like that. This last question was never really answered, as the connection was broken quickly afterwards. Videos of this epic KCL lesson are still trending on the internet.

The new teacher is a Pastafarian. A lot of Jedi followers converted to the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster after that and the curriculum moved towards a specific brand of Italo-American Western movies very quickly.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 12: The Apocalypse part 1

Urged by the Loo Roll Famine, Robyn decided that enough was enough and called for an emergency GGTtStW(opt) meeting to see how the world could be saved from the apparent Apocalypse. Time for a DMAIC approach. Robyn opened a shared document and copied the words 'Define, Measure, Analyse, Improve, Control' into it. So the problem was then defined as an alleged lack of toilet paper. A quick measurement was performed. The four households still had an average stock of 2.54 standardised loo rolls and dropping (fast). Another enquiry into the use rate of sheets led to an average use of 6.24 sheets per session (that's approximately 2 pi), but with a large spread in values over the population (we now also know who to point at in case of a blocked toilet and who needs to take a shower immediately).

The analysis led to the conclusion that using two sheets instead of six was considered too little too late and very hard to control. The notion that we could ambush people with large stashes of loo rolls to steal them and redistribute them in a better way was abandoned as too medieval. A more global approach of the Apocalypse was proposed by Joan, as rolling out ultrasonic or cryogenic alternatives to toilet paper would take too much time to reach global acceptance and needed dispensations from several international weapons treaties. It was then agreed that the redefined problem was global warming, lack of affordable housing, this government, parents, boyfriends, girlfriends (my input), other governments with orange haired Presidents, insufficiently large containers of chocolate spread and the general lack of physical contact between teenagers.

Now we just had to come up with a simple solution'

Or a complex one'

Or any solution at all..

Ten minutes into our fruitless brainstorm session, Allana decided to share her playlist with pitched up covers. The girls started singing along with it. This went on to be a contest of singing louder and louder, to block out the delayed feedback of the three others. That was where I decided to retreat to my cave for the sake of my eardrums and to play the bass guitar instead, until someone pulled a circuit breaker to make some point. (Parents!)

Robyn Hoodie chapter 13: The four hoarse girls of the Apocalypse

The next morning, eight o'clock, at our parentally advised breakfast, Robyn croaked like she had eaten a bunch of toads. And then' A cough' A COUGH!!!!!

A look of terror is crossed the eyes of both our parents. Two smartphones were simultaneously unholstered at lightning speed to check the current procedures and symptom lists. Mantras like 'Website website, where is that @#$! website?' and 'Who has to quarantine? All of us? Really?... @#$!' flew across the table. All this fuss was quickly cut short when it dawned on both parents that you need a digital ID registration for every single person if you want to make an online appointment for testing. Only they have one and setting that up for us will take at least a week. Resigned they got in line for the appointment telephone hotline.

'Welcome to the Corona hotline'

'To make an appointment press one'

'To cancel your existing appointment press six'

'For prank calls press Forty-two'

'If you don't understand what we just said press 1d10t'

' 1'

'For educational purposes, we want to record your call. Press nine if this is fine'

'..

'..

OK, '9'

'The waiting line is too long at this time. This call will now be terminated automatically. Please try again later.

Beeep'beeep'beeep'.'

After an accumulated 73 attempts with four phones dad finally got past that last message and into the actual waiting line.

So we waited.

And we waited.

Then we waited some more while cursing the composer of the two repeating pieces of muzak that fried our right eardrum.

We waited.

We got rudely awakened from our reveries by the fact that someone actually picked up the phone to make an appointment with us.

Halfway through the process we were told: 'Kids get a longer allotted timeslot for the PCR test, but unfortunately, the national hotline cannot book those, so we will put you through to the regional call centre. Hold the line'

We waited again.

And again.

Chatting on her phone, Robyn found out that her friends got the same cough as well, so discussions started about how the disease could be electronically transmitted. This was not accepted by our parents as a valid reason to skip online classes, though. YouTube says it is all the fault of 5G radiation but the government hushes it all up, so we should set fire to the antennas. Reddit thinks it's a glitch in the matrix. (Personally I think that it could have just as well been the after-effects of that pungent Eau de toilette they all bought on their last shopping spree before the world locked down).

In the meantime we waited.

Then we waited some more while dad cursed the composer of the two different but equally annoying repeating pieces of muzak that fried his left eardrum on this hotline. (the one on the other side because the right ear got overheated an hour ago).

A beep warned us that the battery of dad's phone was getting dangerously low, so with a lot of frantic gestures we were sent out on an expedition to locate the correct charger before he got cut off and had to start all over. We succeeded, plugging it into the phone with only 3% left.

Finally we got through and were able to book the other two tests. Unfortunately, those would take place two hours later than the ones for our parents, all at a 45 minute drive from our house, so there was no point going home in between, but you were also not allowed to wait at the test location or go anywhere.

Having arranged that, we had a late lunch, before getting into the car, getting out again to get all ID cards sorted, then getting in again to go for the actual testing.

The only thing I will say about the test itself is that I was afraid that if they aimed that swab a little bit off, it would go out by way of my ear. I never thought I would ever have my nose pierced and my gag reflex tested in such a mass produced way. The worst thing was that this would probably not the last time we would be subjected to this kind of torture as a passing rite to stay included in modern society.

The results of our tests, which took place within the span of just over 2 hours, came to us in the following order:

' Dad got the result the same evening using the online tool which required digital identification.

' Mom had her result the next afternoon via the same tool.

Then the waiting started'.

' Two days later we got a call with trick questions for my result.

' Four days later we finally got Robyn's result, also by phone, with different trick questions.

We all tested negative, which is in a way a positive thing.

I blame Covid for devaluating the positive image of the word positive.

Robyn's girlfriends also tested negative this time round. Now we feel like electrons (those are also hanging out at the negative side of a battery).

Robyn Hoodie chapter 14: Physics of failure

After careful consideration and extensive observations of recordings from my online classes by Robyn, I think we unravelled the mystery of how to distinguish between the identical twin sisters Star and Portia Micelli. Star must be the one with the green lipstick on the right (if you point in the same way as they do) and Portia the one with the red lipstick on the left. Apparently, their father (an Italian submarine commander) met their mother (a German marine biologist studying the mating habits of sea cucumbers) on a covert operation somewhere near the bottom of the Mariana trench. Or so they claim.

Having this riddle solved, I planned to proclaim my undying love for one of them (or both) in the next Physics class. Asking the help of Robyn (again) and discussing the ethical consequences if it ever became known, we tossed a coin to decide. Portia won this one.

So halfway through the class on magnetism, I muted the Physics teacher and proclaimed 'Portia, I am attracted to you. Will you date me?! (given the opportunity and loosening of contact rules)'. To which she answered: ' I would love to, but my sister won!'

Turns out they tossed a coin as well to decide who got first pick. Star won that one.

The Physics teacher then unmuted herself and told us through the turmoil that that sort of attraction was part of the Biology curriculum, so could we please stay on topic, thank you very much.

Some days later I received a parcel with a T-shirt stating 'I am dating a Star' on the front and 'My other girlfriend is a Portia' at the back, a pair of socks (one green and one red) and a scented 2 note with a GPS coordinate and a date and time for our first socially distanced three-way date. A second note listed some useful things to bring.

To be continued (I hope)

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1 So far they have failed to produce any evidence to corroborate their story, because (as they say) it is all left at the bottom of the ocean.

2 (cinnamon and ginger)

Robyn Hoodie chapter 15: Ancient swearing

If you want to know where our funny genes came from , you should see our parents' contemporary translations of the oaths of the Greek philosopher brothers Socrates, Carbohydrates and Pilates chalked on the inside of the restroom door:

Socratic oath: 'Let me help you, because what happens in the examination room stays in the examination room, I mean it. If you tell anyone, I'm screwed. Cash will do nicely.'

Carbohydratic oath: 'Given enough sugar, anything is edible.'

Pilatic oath: 'It won't hurt you if it hurts a bit, as long as you wash your hands afterwards.'

They keep trying to convince us that this is what the ancient texts actually mean. Apparently, Carbohydrates is the inventor of the 'Space bar', a candy bar so big that the gravity alone can pull the glazing off your teeth.

We have decided we will do something similar and write summaries of political systems on the restroom door. So far we have come up with variations on Communism, Capitalism and Liberalism

Communism: If everybody shares everything, nobody has anything - Eventually some have most and nobody does anything.

Capitalism: Get the money and decide to run or sue.

Or: Sell your long deceased grandmother to the three highest online bidders simultaneously and run.

Liberalism: Help yourself. We don't want rules.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 16: The essay conundrum

Robyn was sulking mightily, because the teacher will not allow '30 hours in Hooverville' as accepted literature for next month's essay, despite the apparent diversity in viewpoints, and the styles and genres that are incorporated in this magnificent piece. (and the 18+ rating for explicit content, which should make it literature all in itself). Not taking no for an answer, my sister started to devise a plot to plant a copy with the teacher in order to sway his opinion. Using dad's credit card she ordered copies to be delivered to the wife, the cleaning lady, the mistress of the teacher, his sister-in-law, the piano teacher of his daughter and his other mistress, as an all-out attack. (effectively, that amounted to only three copies, so it stayed within a budget that would not alarm dad).

Miraculously, within a week, Robyn received a short message that she could use '30 hours' after all, if she refrained from interfering from now on. Apparently it had become increasingly difficult to remember who quoted what bit of the book without actually reading it as a cover story for the source of this knowledge.

Mom disagrees with Robyn's idea to put out Fish-o-lanterns in the garden for Halloween, as the current score is 3/7/2/8 for the amount of lives spent in the local cat community. Distracting cats that walk over the narrow balcony railing is a sort of specialty of my sister. The look of realisation when one paw is attempting to stand on the void just before the other three will follow suit in a downward trajectory is one I will not forget in a hurry. So far we have not succeeded in filming such an event, so the scores will probably rise further in the near future.

Pleas to get a big cat like in the book were also ignored, even though Robyn needs one to see if feline stupidity is linked to size or not.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 17: Getting shot in the arm

YAY!!! We can finally get our first COVID shot, now that it has been cleared for our age group.

The location is a cold and large disused warehouse somewhere off the highway with yellow signs drawing everyone in, in ever tightening circles, sometimes passing the same crossing at a 90 degree angle from earlier on. Luckily we are experienced queuers, because we have had several yearly subscriptions to all kinds of different amusement parks. What we miss is the trademark soundtracks that normally get you in the correct mood for the ride you are about to take. Playing those soundtracks from my phone is not really appreciated, maybe because 'Carnaval Festival' is such an earworm of a song or maybe because people are in an entirely different kind of mood.

Given my previous experiences with injections and blood (Like fainting during Biology lessons on B-word related topics), combined with decreased oxygen levels from my mouth-nose mask, I opt for the VIP treatment of getting the shot while lying down on a bed. This takes me through an additional queue to get permission from a doctor, just like when you want to ride in the first row of a rollercoaster (OK, that is usually without a doctor). Contrary to the chairs that are spaced with military precision (so that they can see who falls over within 15 minutes after the shot), the beds are curtained off from the main hall and get regular personal attention from the nurses that check if you haven't accidentally died on them yet. Back in the car, Robyn asked what took me so long. I thought better of it and didn't tell her I freaked out the nurses by falling asleep on that bed.

The way back to the highway was even more complicated. We'll be back in four weeks' time'

For now, Ouch' (feels like I got literally shot in the shoulder for three days afterwards).

End of transmission and good day to you.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 18: Duplex diem

Hora est! Dating time'

I packed my bag with drinks, snacks, three mugs, several ultra-long straws and a waterproof mat to sit on. Other items included Robyn's Gryffindor pillow1, dad's fishing rod2, Ukulele, Bluetooth speaker, a bag of nerves and loads of friendly advice from Robyn. (Things like: Don't stare / Act as your normal self if you don't want to risk living a lie for the rest of your life / Try to balance listening and talking). Enquiries with my (male) friends did not yield a lot of useful advice, just things like 'Can I have the other one?' and 'Don't say yes unless you really want to'.

The Micelli twin GPS coordinate led me to a spot slap bang in the middle of a large field, where the outline of a huge radioactive sign had been spray painted onto the grass. Star and Portia were sitting in two of the outward sections of the sign, their socked feet on a circular mat in the central circle. They pointed me to the remaining section and nodded approvingly at the green and red socks on my feet after I removed my shoes.

With the Bluetooth speaker in the middle we took our turns to play something from our own playlists, moving our feet to the rhythm. They both liked the song 'Roodkapje' by Pater Moeskroen. For some reason their choice of songs leaned toward the romantic side of the spectrum' Except maybe for 'Rein'Raus' by Rammstein. I will have to translate those German lyrics first before I will give my opinion on that, although I do have some idea of what that is all about. (definitely not COVID proof, or parent proof for that matter).

If you had asked me a year ago, I would have never dared to admit how satisfying socked contact can be, despite being out-socked 2 to 1. (All things considering, it was the only option for physical contact available at the moment, without breaching social distance between heads).

We shared our snacks and drinks with the help of the fishing rod, the ultra-long straws, carefully aiming and trying to catch with our mouths.3

During my performance of 'You are so beautiful' on the ukulele, I was glad that the English language allows some leeway in how many people can be addressed with 'you'.

In the end the twins proposed to read some old Astleian poetry:

Never giveth thy up'

Never letteth thy down'

Never runneth around'

Deserteth thy not either'

Never maketh thou cry'

Never sayeth God be with Ye'

Never telleth a Lye'

Neither hurteth thou'

At which point I knew I had been beautifully Rickrolled in stereo.

Things with cherries happened.

When I returned later that evening, Robyn frowned when I told her I had socks with the twins all afternoon.

Next week will be my turn to arrange a meeting.

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1 Don't tell her I borrowed that or she'll kill me.

2 Same here.

3 We first washed our hands in innocence and lots of alcohol

Robyn Hoodie chapter 19: The Apocalypse part 2 - Viral Wappies

For Social studies, Robyn's class was given the following experiment as an assignment: Search for COVID on YouTube and click on the most ridiculous proposed next video several times. Write an essay on the fake news content you encounter. I had a quick look at Robyn's notes, in case I would get the same assignment. This is what she wrote down:

1. Covid testing isn't a substitute for life-saving vaccine. (Well that is not news)

2. Covid-19 is not transmitted through house flies. (This is rather specific, but possibly true)

3. Nature is taking revenge (Isn't that in the nature of Nature? Not caring and seeking equilibrium?)

4. No, it's 5G doing it! (Now we're getting somewhere. Anyone who can draw up an irrefutable theory explaining how radiation can turn into viral matter will probably be a contender for a Nobel prize. Up till then, dream on')

5. The vaccines contain nanochips that can control you. (If I were a bad guy trying to put those in people I would put it in toothpaste or something as normal as that. People think twice (or more) about taking vaccines or not)

6. Lying in the sun cures COVID! (I agree with the Lying.)

7. The ancient Greeks are to blame! (Yes, of course: alpha, beta, gamma, delta'. So will we be rid of COVID once we reach the Omega variant? Sure!)

8. The QR codes contain satanic messages. (Yes there is always a risk that anywhere in a large sequence of numbers you will find 666. This probably even happens somewhere in Pi. Does that make circles evil? All hail the cunning Radius!)

Some of the students complained that they couldn't find any fake news. Everything they found was definitely true. The teacher explained that they probably were members of the viral Wappie community 1, being indoctrinated with conspiracy theories and unable to get their search parameters back to normal again. To save them, the Wappies had to hand in all their possessions. The teacher then divided those in three equal portions. One part they got back. One part was for expenses for the teacher (anti-depressants, shrink, paper for printing, coffee, top shelf magazines 2, etcetera). The remaining part was donated to the nearest COVID recovery ward.

We think that this approach will have a positive influence on the next assignment results.

The Social studies teacher then called in our Maths teacher to explain that even if 50% of the people on the COVID wards were fully vaccinated, this was still a huge improvement, if you understood that you had to divide that absolute number over a huge total number of fully vaccinated people in the country, compared to dividing that same absolute number over a much smaller total number of non-vaccinated people.

84.4% = Vaccinated

15.6% = Not Vaccinated

Due to the assumed 50/50 division, the actual number of hospitalisations is immaterial to calculate that Non-vaccinated people have a 84.4/15.6 = 5.4 times bigger chance of getting into hospital. (actual percentages lean towards more non-vaccinated hospitalisations and a 7+ times bigger chance).

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1 A Wappie is someone who does not believe in scientific evidence, but rather believes what comes along in their social media timelines. They do not know that the social media algorithms feed them more and more of the same rubbish once they get caught in conspiracy theories.

2 For the car reviews...

Robyn Hoodie chapter 20: B.T.S. (Back to school, not the K-pop group)

Agoraphobics Beware!

Last night's Prime-ministerial press conference made everybody very happy (NOT!!!). As of today, the schools will be partially open again. I say good luck to the planners. The idea is that students can return to class socially distanced. This means that most schools can offer physical lessons at half or one third capacity. This also effectively means that once or twice a week, you can sit with eight to ten students in a classroom with all the windows open (cold) for air circulation, while the teacher is giving an online lesson from the same room to the rest of the class that sits/hangs/lies down/oozes in bed at home. You can imagine how well this does not work. The only thing you learn in those classes is how hard it is to give online lessons to adolescents (and it is impossible to mute the teacher, so you will definitely be asked questions). Since all teachers are confined to their own boxed off area (with red tape on the floor, if they could still get red tape)1, some decided that the lucky physical few should sit with their backs to him / her / it, in order to be able to look at what was happening on our screens.

The only upside for this whole "loosening of rules" was that we got some exercise from cycling to school and back. (Yay!) The downside of having to wear a mask all day was that I was almost permanently fogged up, especially when I looked in the direction of Star and Portia, who, by a stroke of luck, had been assigned to the same group of physicals. They do like my masked up Darth Vader imitation. (The teachers don't, they just want peace and quiet, their comfy chair, proper ground coffee that dissolves spoons, a large screen instead of a laptop computer, the occasional hug from their spouse, safely breathable air and a mute button for us as well).

To reduce the amount of contact, it was decided that the teachers would move between classrooms instead of the students, effectively reducing the length of all lessons because the teachers had to pack up their gear and set up the next online lesson elsewhere. Lots of at-home students bailed out because they thought that there was no online lesson available, reverting to mass online gaming instead.

On this first day, while zig zag walking, I shared my sandwiches with Star and Portia since they hadn't anticipated on the cafeteria remaining locked up. 2, Munching our bread with spiced 'speculaas' biscuits, sliced sausage and chicken-curry spread (not on the same sandwich), we mused on the possibilities of forming our own household, with all the freedoms that come with it. Unfortunately my parents did not agree when I proposed that I would move out (the twins have the bigger room and a ruler-of-indeterminate-gender size bed that could accommodate me). Portia said that she would ask their parents once they finished playing hide and seek in the swimming pool.

On the way back home from school I saw that the primary school down the street had gone creative and made different gates in the fence for each age group, with coloured lines across the playground to guide the kids to the correct classroom, as parents were not allowed to enter.

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1 The Arts teacher had got her hands on some fancy neon unicorn glitter tape

2 You are only allowed to walk outside in pairs now, if you are not in the same household, so I changed pairing all the time

Robyn Hoodie Chapter 21: Bull's eye

Robyn was not so lucky. The GGTtStW(opt) were spread over three different groups for physical lessons. Mary was the only other girl in her group. (The boys were only mentioned by the names Dumb, Dull, Annoying, Irritating, Gross and Freaky). Their first day started with Biology.

Like the previous Biology teacher1, the new one had opted for the Darwinesque look, by pulling her hair to the front and braiding it into something resembling the signature beard. She probably did that some time ago. Thank Hoover for social distancing, because despite the inherent mask-like qualities, the once-bleached dread-beard actively radiated Biology in all its glory. (Robyn told me that the online sub-moniker of the teacher is "Save bacteria, it's the only culture some people have"). The teacher confided that this was the only way to gain Bio-cred, since she wasn't naturally endowed with the prerequisite equatorial female Ur figure.2 Joan, who is the bet-administrator in our class says that the odds are not favourable for the teacher. On the other hand, research has shown that several other antigens can block out COVID, so keeping that teacher close could be lifesaving. (Unless there are other, even more dangerous antigens available in her collection)

Today's practical assignment was the dissection of a cow's eyeball (could have been a bull, no proof either way was still connected). After slashing through the tough leathery Sclera and Choroid and spilling all the gooey internal substances all over the desk, everyone ended up with a bouncy marble (a.k.a. the lens). This Biology teacher did not allow the class to include Physics into the experiment, so the bounce height could only be determined later, during lunch break.

For some reason, a lot of students at home had terminal connection problems throughout this lesson, while others scared their parents with screenshots of the carnage or tried to find the promised aqueous humour.

Robyn kept the lens to give to dad as a birthday present while it was still fresh.

Next week, when it is Joan's turn, the subject will be the decomposition of mushy peas. She is already looking forward to it' I did that one last year. You have two test tubes connected by a glass pipe and a Bunsen burner for heating. During the cooling phase, the contents of one tube were sucked from one tube to the other with a most satisfying slobbering noise. Apparently this was not meant to happen and meant that the lab assistant had to clean out the glass pipes (again). I will definitely tell Joan how it is done (the slobbering).

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1 The one that got expelled after the space dog incident

2 As in: having your own equator.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 22: P.A.P.

Curious Mary was linked to Annie Mirabili for their Profile Assignment Project. The idea of a PAP is that you create your own multidisciplinary work as a sort of masterpiece before you finish secondary school. This is always done in pairs and you have 1,5 year to start it, refine it and present your results.

Given their affinity with Physics, they started off posing the Question: "Would gravity be different if it had been a banana instead of an apple?" (Biology being the second discipline). They set off researching the history of the banana to see if any early species might have had boomerang capabilities, then using statistics to find the probability of a falling banana returning to its original position.

It was while researching Sir Isaac Newton's lost manuscripts that they found several weird graphs that appeared to be in conflict with what has so far been written on gravity. (One of Annie's ancestors used to do some light dusting and mistressing for Sir Isaac. Things get lost really easily that way.) Apparently Sir Isaac paid the boy next door to climb the apple tree to throw apples at him, while it was really the invisible Phaerys with their powerful invisible pink fishing rods that pulled everything down. In an attempt to be even more multidisciplinary, Mary and Annie concluded there was definitely some Chemistry going on and maybe even some Social studies and Religion. Notes in the margins describe Sir Isaac's apparently failed attempts to bribe the Phaerys into powering his perpetuum mobile. Having read this, the girls unanimously decided1 that that was what they were going to attempt as a final project deliverable. If they could manage to not just make the perpetuum mobile movement self-sustaining but use it to actually drive something with it, that would be a bonus (and probably a Nobel prize).

To get there, intensive research into the needs of Phaerys (or fairies) would be needed. A progressive list of questions was made:

' How to communicate with them?

' What do they want?

' How can they be blackmailed into slave labour if being nice fails?

' Can we outwit creatures that have been able to study and control us from the dawn of time?

' If they could, why have certain people not floated into space?

' Where do the Phaerys put the energy that is being conserved by Law (the first)?

' Can we get a copy of the key to that energy storage?

' Can we, if all this fails, turn in the lost manuscripts as an Archaeological project?

' Did Sir Isaac actually really mean Phasers instead of Phaerys? (you never know with the spelling of that period). A tractor beam would be cool as well.

Robyn is closely following their progress (sometimes helping out) in case their results could be useful for her electric unicycle project with Joan.

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1 Not hard when there's only two

Robyn Hoodie chapter 23: Definitely NOT R.Kelly

Since the teachers only allowed secret notes on pieces of paper when they were thoroughly disinfected1, I mainly communicated with Star and Portia through our dedicated group chat. To summarise last week: I mainly communicated with Star and Portia.

This time it was my turn to think of something nice to do together. Somewhere inside where there was enough air circulation for a safe get together, in case it was raining outside.

After breaking my virtual piggy bank and despairing, I ended up 'borrowing' the key to a closed skydiving simulator from the unknowing dad of an acquaintance of a vague friend of mine.

We all arrived at the location fashionably five minutes early.2 and entered the cavernous site with the huge horizontal fan underneath a wire cage. Once I got that running, we had a guaranteed airflow.

In hindsight, I should have informed the twins about some sort of dress code suitable for the occasion3, as knee-length skirts are not very practical when levitating / navigating at those wind speeds. Aerodynamic drag means that they were mostly upside down, with me floating around them horizontally at waist height, the closest I had been to certain parts of their anatomy so far, but the perspective was sort of weird. At some point they both let their long golden hair loose and successfully pretended to be airborne mermaids, while I did my best dolphin impersonation, going vertical with them, cutting and weaving through the airflow to the Mission Impossible tune blaring through the PA system, all the while keeping my mouth shut to avoid turning into a balloon. Next we tried a starfish configuration, which quickly turned into a collision and the illegal starkiss configuration'

A while later (sometime after we needed to disconnect for the next breath), another drawback popped up when I proposed a toast' I suspect the ceiling will be dry before the simulator will be officially open again. Let's hope nobody will notice the red and the green socks stuck to the ceiling.

Thoroughly blow-dried and barefoot we found out that it wasn't raining after all, so we went outside and ate our snacks on the very romantically deserted concrete parking lot. Sitting side by side we continued our cherry stone spitting competition.

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1 Which messes up the ink

2 You can't be too eager, can you?

3 Not that anyone complained.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 24: The winning of the golden sparrow

So far, Miss Charles, the faux-bearded Biology teacher has survived teaching at our school. (According to Joan, only a few contenders are left in the betting scheme). As a community service (and to see if anyone was listening) she asked us to join the annual bird count. She also mentioned that there would be a prize for the student with the highest score, but only with photos as proof.

Not sure whether she was the only one listening, Robyn asked around to see how she could win this thing. From Mrs. Micelli, we were able to procure an obscure book on ornithology, with great pictures.

On the day of the bird count, we set up our cameras and shot a picture of every single photo in the book, except the ones in black and white. (We edited out the mountains on some pictures to be sure) Then we started looking outside, to see if anything moved in our garden as well. According to the rules, you could count every bird only once, but since the birds didn't tell us their first names we decided that consecutive counting worked much better. Giving the assembled birds a slight scare to have them leave and then come back again worked very well for the total numbers.

After counting for about three hours we got the following score:

Bird type Count Remarks

Sparrow 629

Tit 487

Wood pigeon 12.5 One remained sitting on the fence, so only he front half was counted

Blackbird 8

SR-71 Blackbird 0 Too fast, at 2,193.2 miles per hour top speed

Jackdaw 36 No Jilldaws found

Magpie 69

Finch 3

Robin 25

Robyn 1

Nearly every bird from the book 1 each

Grand total: 1823 birds of over 600 different species.

The next lesson, the teacher took Robyn to a separate chat-box to ask her some questions. She asked how my sister managed to capture the images of so many non-native and marine birds in our backyard and even one of a long extinct species.

After some deliberation and using her calculator, the teacher proclaimed Robyn the winner of the Golden sparrow award (a Jack Sparrow figurine covered in glue and golden glitters), since she was the only one to have made an attempt at all, fraudulent or not.

Two days later the teacher gave an updated score (after having looked through all of our photos). It was:

Bird type Count Remarks

Sparrow 11

Tit 7 4 greater, 3 coal

Wood pigeon 3 One with woodworm problems

Blackbird 2

SR-71 Blackbird 1 According to the teacher, we accidentally got one in the background of some sparrows, but she won't tell us which photo because it is classified information that could get us blacklisted or even in jail, if we ever visited the States

Jackdaw 2

Magpie 7

Shepherd's pie 3 Consumed by teacher while counting

Finch 3 Not easily scared, so no doubles here

Robin 1

Robyn 1 (But not part of the Aves Class)

If the next assignment could win me a Platinum Elizabeth Swann 1 figurine, I'm in'

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1 Will Turner is also possible, because that could refer to the 'Turner's Eremomela', an NT (nearly threatened) species from the Republic of Congo, but that is less likely.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 25: Order' Oooooorder!

Ding Dong, Dong Ding, Clank Bong Ding Dong'.

'Heya! Is it OK if I sign for delivery on your behalf here? That way we can keep at least one Ariana distance2, OK? OK. The package is over there in the corner. Thanks and goodbye'.'

That is the fifth delivery van today.

Parts for the prototype of Robyn's electric unicycle are starting to come in. She says there will probably be three or four more deliveries before she can really get started. This sucks, because I am also expecting a parcel that I do not specifically want to expose to sisterly scrutiny. The only solution is to beat her to the door every time3. Meanwhile Robyn is rummaging through the boiler room to put together her tool kit for the build. So far the yellow thing that is always lost remains lost. She did find the blue thing that usually replaces the yellow thing, but is significantly shorter, the Allen keys, some wrenches, a blowtorch and a large hammer.4

Finally the large pink box arrives and I succeed in hiding it before Robyn gets a chance to see it, nearly tripping over some of the larger parts Robyn has laid out on the hallway floor. She can have the front door from now on, if she wants to. I call out 'Your turn' when the doorbell goes again.

Up in my room, flickering of the lights indicates that Robyn has started on the electrical part of construction. Then she texts me with a really big 'HEEEEEELP!!!!'. Turns out she needs me to put my finger on the sprocket while she ratchets it to the pinion bracket (or something). It goes like this: 'Hold iiiit' hold iiiit' pull your finger awaaay'.NOW!!'.

(Ouch?)

'Sorry, did that hurt a lot?'

'Not really' (It did, but why admit it?)

I'll write that down in my diary when I can hold my pen again.

Meanwhile, Robyn is welding on the unicorn spike, with online encouragements from Joan.

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1 Our Big Ben doorbell needs some maintenance.

2 Allegedly, she's 1.5 metres tall.

3 Not actually beating her for propulsive purposes, just be at the door faster than she is. You knew that, right?

4 Vital for every engineering job, can replace most missing special tools or finish your Thor costume for Samhain if needed.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 26: Pink box

The feet of my bed are still not touching the ground due to the big pink box that I spectacularly failed to hide underneath it. That could raise some suspicion if Robyn were to enter my room (which she regularly does, without asking). Time to fix that. After locking my door I managed to tilt the large box upright and to open it using my pen knife. Upon opening the cardboard flaps, an avalanche of foam flakes floods the bedroom floor. Crap'

Out of the foam flakes, a bagged shape looms in the box. It looks really solid, but a blue-purplish shimmer emits through the opaque bag and faint sparking noises can be heard.

Here goes nothing: I rip the plastic off and see a large rectangular wooden frame. It appears to be rosewood, which surprises me, for that price. Then I see a bit of delamination at one of the corners that suggests chipboard underneath. Rosewood veneer then'

The doorway (because that's what it appears to be) Is slightly humming. On the left side, two large round dials can be seen. The top dial has the letters of the Alphabet distributed around it, the lower dial has a sort of numerical scale from minus infinity through zero to plus infinity.

See if this works. For no apparent reason, I put the top dial on 'N' and turn the numerical dial slightly clockwise. The top of the doorframe shows 'Na002835X' in green letters and a shimmering image of a forest with a thin layer of snow on the floor and an ancient streetlight appears in the door opening. Sleigh tracks are visible in the snow. Turning the bottom dial further to Ne003629M the image turns a glowing purple with a vague block pattern unfolding behind it. Boring' A little further then , at Ne003635P there is forest again, but it has a more jungley, undiscovered islandey feel to it. No snow here. From the corner of my eye, I think I see a glimpse of some lost boy or girl ducking behind a large tree'. Turning the dial all the way into the Nu range a really interesting beach vista passes by, so I make a note of the address for later reference'

As a further test, the top dial goes to the letter 'S' and the bottom dial somewhere close to zero. A large domesticated hairy camel-ish creature stares back at me from a desert. Some sort of stone pyramid is in the background, with another one (this one metallic) hovering over it. The sun looks a bit off, but I can't pinpoint exactly how. The green letters on the doorframe say "SG100003A".

Further experimenting reveals that turning the dial further past Z will change the alphabet to Greek symbols, then Cyrillic on the next turn, then Hieroglyphs, then something looking too unpleasant to linger on. Time to turn this thing off'

In order to hide the doorframe, I move it up against an empty bit of wall and fit it with the fake white panelled door that was still lodged at the back of the box.

Now I just have to get rid of the box and the foam flakes. Maybe it could replace my bed?

Robyn Hoodie chapter 27: Road testing the Uni(corn)cycle

Early on Saturday morning I got rudely awakened by Robyn. She just dropped a complete hockey outfit on my floor, which caused a lot of racket. 'Calibration time!' She yelled in my ear. (she looks at my brand new door suspiciously, but does not comment as doors in outer walls on the second floor don't just appear overnight, so it is not her problem).

One hour later, now fully geared up1, stuck full of crash test markers and complaining, I was led outside to the skeleton Uni(corn)cycle, because Robyn needed me to calibrate the PID controller responsible for keeping the thing upright.

All morning, we investigated the botanic properties of the face plant.2 In hindsight, I should have asked Robyn to sign a contract stating that the video footage she is shooting will be used for scientific purposes only and not in any way be shared on social media whatsoever. (Too late)

I now know where the word toque comes from. It is just a fancy description of the sound you hear when you are glad to wear one. This specific specimen went through a significant part of its validated lifetime in a short time, due to repeated and unwarranted hard contact with the unicorn bit.

Just when I got the idea we were getting anywhere, Robyn stole the hockey stick and removed the training wheels to add the sideways balancing component. Sometime after that, she hung some sandbags from my belt, claiming that it should work for people of any weight. Apparently we had only created one calibration line so far, where we needed a 3D lookup table for interpolation. Sigh... Ouch... Crash' (again'. and again' and again')

Just before dinner, Robyn decided that she was satisfied for now. The Uni(corn)cycle would now stay upright whatever you tried. It also miraculously wouldn't budge. My suggestion that we could have just as well hammered a pole in the ground to the same effect was not greeted with much enthusiasm. But that did put the finger on the sore point. It didn't move at all, which is sort of a basic requirement for an intended mode of transport. Back to the drawing board...

A long bath with a frothing orange and blue bath bomb took care of most of the sores I had collected during testing.

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1 From inside out: thermal underwear, toque, shin protectors, slobs, body armour, padded trousers, elbow protectors, neck band, Jersey (not New) , mouth protector and Helmet. No skates but I took the hockey stick as a cane and put on some heavy duty mountaineering shoes.

2 Luckily, hockey helmets are required to have a cage around here, or I would have needed a bag to collect my teeth. Now I just have traces of humus and small branches between those teeth.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 28: Apocalypse part 3: Red or dead?

Sitting on the couch in the room with the bay windows with Robyn (After we decided we had done enough homework for the day) we were suddenly confronted with four Horsepersons. Their magnificent steeds were gleaming with sweat and I could see the mad glint in the eyes of the slightly less huge grey horse that carried a similarly grey-dressed guy with unkempt hair and nicotine stained fingers. The guy winked, but that didn't detract from the menacing aura that was generated by the smoking claymore he was idly tossing from hand to hand. We didn't have time to linger on that because then the Rider in Black eclipsed our vision, sitting on a true war charger as black as the further corners of the galaxy, with blue glowing supernova eyes. The scythe was literally a dead giveaway when we had to identify which one that was. A shiver ran down my spine as Death himself addressed us with his trademark 'Cower brief mortals! As the Apocalypse is upon you!'. Since we didn't really react in a way that would incite further doomsaying, the black rider retreated somewhat to make way for a knight in armour that had turned a crimson red under layer upon layer of dried blood. I pointed out the anachronism to Robyn between the medieval armour and the heavy machine gun slung over the shoulder. This did not make the situation less dire though. As a last rider, a female with a complexion and body shape that indicated family ties with the black rider started aiming an intricately carved spear at us, weighing it in her slender hands and whipping her long black hair out of the way.

I looked at Robyn and she nodded in sort-of-twin approval of the idea we knew we both had. While Robyn grabbed a broom and I started whirling a wooden bucket overarm over my head, we let out a primal scream in anticipation of the carnage that would surely follow. Our towering opponents did not take long to regroup and then charge at us as one'

Robyn poked Death in the eye socket, which resulted in a hollow clanking noise and a skull flying through the air. Pollution took a mighty sweep with his claymore to catch the skull on the flat side and return it to its rightful place where it reconnected with a sick popping sound. My bucket had meanwhile connected with the helmet of the armoured butcher, putting Famine off-balance as well, so that she missed Robyn by inches with her fearsome spear. Famine uttered a curse that buzzed around the edges. The bucket attack had also resulted in a falling machine gun, which I grabbed to distribute some of its rounds to our Nemeses. The recoil nearly stunned me, but Robyn propped herself against my back to support me, holding off the blows from the claymore with an ever diminishing broom handle.

We were still in big trouble, as the horses and riders started circling us, in an attempt to find our weak spot. War was still slightly wobbly with the after-clang from my bucket attack. Checking the ammo, I found that I had only two rounds left. Not enough to take them all out. With hand signals I communicated to Robyn that I would go for Death and Famine, if she could concentrate on taking out War and Pollution.

After the first shot at Death, I realised that only a direct hit to the spine would probably have any real effect (such as Death folding down the middle) Anywhere else would just be a waste of ammo. The slender twisting Famine was also a really hard target, so I had to resort to jumping up and using the machine gun as a blunt weapon instead after spending the last round. Robyn had managed to ram my bucket onto the head of Pollution and was trying to strangle him with the reins of his horse. The horse failed to understand the conflicting input but the erroneous movements put Robyn out of harm's way of War's milling hands most of the time. War did manage to procure a magnum .44 revolver from somewhere in the recesses of his armour.

It would have all gone pretty bad for us if not yet another rider had entered the Arena. Dressed in all glittering purple robes and brandishing a huge double headed axe with electric discharges around the edges, she charged into our foes bellowing the ultimate battle cry: 'OK guys, dinner's ready!'' Robyn turned off the game console before we slouched up the stairs to the kitchen after our mum. Dad asked why we didn't go outside to get some bodily exercise. Robyn and I looked at each other and shook our heads knowingly. If only they knew'

Robyn Hoodie chapter 29: Tripping

Since limited numbers of visitors at home were allowed again, I took the opportunity to invite Star and Portia over to show off my doorway gadget. The hardest part was informing our parents of our current relational status. They took it pretty well, all things considered (maybe not all, but definitely some things considered). Dad wanted to know if I thought of the twins as a single or multiple entity sort of thing, given legislation and future perspectives. I explained that I intended to handle this fluidly like water. In water the oxygen also holds two hydrogen atoms at the same time, while the hydrogen atoms were still separated. Both hydrogen atoms are attracted to the oxygen at the same rate. So what was the problem again? Mum just thought they were cute, so I had to forbid her to tell them that straightaway.

Once we managed to get up into my room, followed by encouraging comments from my parents, I could finally close the door and have some privacy. I stood nailed to the spot when Star asked 'Is that portal of yours supposed to be active?'. When I turned around feelings of guilt, fright and anger fought for dominance, when I saw a pair of Robyn's fluffy house slippers standing in front of the open white panelled door in my outer wall.

Portia noticed a square yellow sticky note on one of the slippers, and read out aloud:

'Dear Sinterklaas, could you get

me a Bluetooth music player to

incorporate in my Uni(corn)cycle,

My name in white chocolate and

a new pair of the bee-striped knee

length socks, the last pair's used

up. Yours sincerely, Robyn'

Looking at that last line, we were in doubt if Robyn would get any presents'

The more immediate problem now was determining the whereabouts of my sister. Did she go through the portal (which she shouldn't be able to) or was she just pulling a prank on me.

The view through the portal showed a road through a dry landscape of rolling hills with yellow grass. In the distance were some low buildings and an old, rusty sign stating: 'San Nicol's del Real Camino' An inkling of an idea crept into my mind. I didn't like the thought though. To the twins I told that Robyn might be trying to get her presents at the source to cut out the waiting time and the singing of songs that were heavily censored into wokeness at the chimney.

There was nothing for it. We had to get her back to make sure she wouldn't disturb the flow of the present. To be more exact, the flow of the presents. When I made an attempt to touch the event horizon of the portal, a loud warning honk accompanied the following message across the portal: 'For full portal capabilities, please accept all cookies'

YES

NO

With no other choice available, I hit the Yes button.

A hatch opened at the side of the doorframe and cookies of all sorts started to rain out of it.

'Now enter the password'

What password?

Portia pointed out there were a lot of fortune cookies and proposed we should open them.

Eventually Star found the cookie with the password. Now we just had to enter it with the dials. This was about as cumbersome as entering text messages on an old keypad phone, but we managed.

'Congratulations' Appeared on the portal surface. 'You have now subscribed to the select organisation with the (Fill in Deity)-given right to alter the Universe' Please Enter at your own leisure' And risk, Mwooohahaha!!!!'

I was about to attempt to step through the portal when a sniggering sound came from my wardrobe. Then I noticed a cable patched into the side of the portal, curling across the floor and into my wardrobe.

The wardrobe contained my clothes, a laptop computer and Robyn who was positively screaming with laughter. It took some effort to extract and subdue her, but we finally managed with the use of some old socks retrieved from under my bed.

Just when we were getting chill again on the edge of my bed, eating some of the remaining cookies, we saw Sinterklaas passing our view, waving at us, then throwing a package which materialised in my bedroom before the portal finally shut itself off.

Right'

Robyn later admitted that the cookie settings were not her idea, they were already there for her to use.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 30: Semi-finals

Dear me and anyone who is reading my diary without my express permission, we are entering the last few pages of this diary, so hold on tight.

First some loose ends to clear up:

At the current rate, the space dog will reach Pluto in four years if the aim and timing are correct. It probably doesn't care that much.

What about the apocalypse? Well, when school really went physical again, with full classes every single day, Robyn started moaning: 'I'm dead, I'm definitely dead now'. The teachers had so far tolerated hoodie wearing in class, but clearly stated that if everything was back to normal this wouldn't last. The stress this caused her, inadvertently led to a severe case of the screaming heebie-jeebies.

Now, what is in the package? I hear you think' (Use a generous swig of olive oil as a lubricant if you don't want me to hear you think).1 Well'

Eager to know what Sinterklaas had given us, but slightly scared it might be Pandora's box, we locked the door and closed the curtains of my bedroom. Portia produced some incense and candles, these were strategically placed on a plate that should really have been back in the kitchen a week ago. Robyn scrolled through YouTube until she found some suitably creepy background music. Star fashioned the sash she was wearing into a blindfold for me. Thus blindfolded and sitting cross-legged, I was handed the package, while the girls started with some general chanting (a mix of drawn out Rhubarb, Rhubarbs and Om mani padme hums).

The package felt heavy and solid.

I removed the first piece of Sellotape and unfolded a flap of wrapping paper.

Struggling to get a grip on the second piece of sticky tape, the chanting grew to epic proportions with clear ad-libs into the soprano, mezzo and alto registers.

In order to balance things out, I started humming as well. This led to some resonant feedback from my bass guitar in the corner and a parent (apparently) thumping the door to request some peace and quiet and no grandchildren yet please'

Somewhat less loud, the tape gave in, freeing yet another flap. One more to go.

I felt the others lean in closer to be the first to see what this was all about.

Ripping the paper, the package disassembled itself in four parts. The collective groan made me take off the blindfold to see that there now were four equally wrapped up packages left. Each with a name on it. Robyn' Portia' Star' and' (Haha, you nearly had me there) My name.

In the meantime, the candles, incense and unidentified food-ish stuff had merged into a miniature campfire that smoked purple. Let's hope the plate can withstand the heat or there will be Questions'

The shape of the packages suggested something book-shaped. We shook them anyway, to eliminate Legos as an option. No rattling.

Robyn's package contained a book with blueprints for a Bluetooth music player.

Star and Portia had first editions of 'Fifty shades of Green' and 'Fifty shades of Red'2

With a final rip and 'Tadaaa!' I took out my virgin3 diary'

Then dad shouldered his way through the official door with the fire extinguisher ready and a lot of simple questions that required difficult answers...

________________________________________

1 I have no medical degree, so try any orifice at your own risk.

2 Their giggling made me a bit uneasy.

3 As in: nothing was written in it yet, you know. Kind of like 'new'. Nothing to do with my bio-marital status.

Robyn Hoodie chapter 42: Ball of Morals

Moral of the stories:

I find it not very ambitious to have just the one obligatory moral at the end of a story, so I made a list with some more.
(checked twice)

1 If talking to strangers is so dangerous, how come our parents even met?

2 Oh I get it... Having children can be dangerously expensive and bad for your mental health.

3 Not talking to strangers seems much more dangerous to me, if you are planning to have kids.

4 Why use a double enteindre if you can have a quadruple.
5 Never underestimate the comforting capabilities of a fleece blanket and a hoodie.

6 Putting teachers in boxes sounds more morbid than it actually is.

7 Online (or any) polls highly depend on formulating the question and possible answers right.

8 Cats and sparrows spy on you when you are getting online education.

9 They may want to use what they learn against you.
10 Starboard is right, Port side is left, unless you move backwards.

11 Philosophers should work out what happens if you physically move forward while also moving backward in time.

12 Given enough sugar, anything is edible.

13 SUDOKU is an abbreviation meaning "The numbers must remain single"

14 If I were a number I would strongly oppose.

15 COVID probably doesn't stop at variant omega.

16 Bananas taste better than apples.

17 Phaerys rule.

18 Newton saw the gravity of the situation.

19 A perpetuum mobile gets boring after the first few hundred years.

20 No hedgehogs were harmed in this diary.

21 A steel framed loft bed with a desk underneath acts as a Faraday cage, which kills your Wi-Fi signal.

22 A hoodie, mouth-nose mask and fogged up glasses combined are a good excuse not to answer the question.

23 In a Battle between Nina Hagen and an electric guitar, the guitar loses.

24 How can you emotionally bond with Little Red riding hood when the story is only one page long?

25 The socio-economic backgrounds that led to intimate Granny-wolf relationships are clearly missing.

26 Wolves are a protected species around here. Farmers disagree.

27 The wolf-jaw-to-grandmotherly-equator ratio is something that needs scientific validation.

28 Noses and ears are among the only body parts that keep growing your entire life, so grandparents can't help it.

29 Singing is fine, but not when you try to hide.

30 Hiding in a forest does not work when trying to evade the authorities nowadays.

31 Strawberries look weird from up close.

32 Eating cherry stones doesn't result in cherry trees growing from your ears or any other body orifice.

33 Don't rely on politicians for your health.

34 Relying on vaccines has proven to be more effective. (compared to no vaccines or politics)

35 If you try to invent something, check if someone else hasn't invented it before you.

36 Don't mess with Sinterklaas.

37 If you write a story, it may end up in a tradition which will cause riots 160 years later.

38 Don't play with Pandora's box if you are not a certified unboxer.

39 Control over the Phaeries is the key to happiness or world domination.

40 Since I still haven't told you my name, I probably never will.

41 Don't go asking Star and Portia behind my back, they have been instructed.

42 Open ended stories cry out for a sequel.