Well, I do believe that that is the greatest compliment I've recieved about my fanfic work. Ever. Simply saying that I "did well" with Fosters' style is, as we all know, a TREMENDOUS compliment. So, all I can say is thanks, and I hope I continue to entertain you in the way I have been doing.
I always picture my fanfics as an episode of Fosters I'm watching which I'm trying to transcribe to the page. And I hope that I'm doing a good enough job to let you all see the vision I have in my head. (ugh, sometimes I can sound a little pompous.
)
Chapter 2: Happy Coco
KA-THUMP!KA-THUMP! Squeak!
"Shhhhhhh!" everyone warned Wilt. They were walking right behind Mr Herriman, so if he turned around, they were caught. "Sorry" whispered Wilt. Eduardo picked Wilt up to avoid further squeaking and carried him along as the group tiptoed after Mr Herriman. All of a sudden, Coco randomly let out a "Cocococococococo!" and began running around. The others didn't have time to scold her, as Mr Herriman turned around and saw them.
"Master Wilt! Master Eduardo! Master Blooreguard! Miss Coco! What on Earth are you all doing here at the driving range! This is in gross violation of both house and golf club rules! Why I-" but at that moment, a wealthy looking man drove past on a golf cart and stopped to talk to Mr Herriman.
"I say, Herriman old boy, good to see you out again. Escaped from the rat-race, eh, what?" the man said amicably to Mr Herriman. "I-uh, yes, quite. Thank you Groomington." Mr Herriman replied. "And who are your guests? More Imaginaries here to enjoy a game of golf, eh?" Groomington persued. "Why, yes. Yes, that's what they're doing. They're here to play golf, and in no way violating club rules whatsoever." Mr Herriman said panickedly. "Well, got to dash, got an important meeting with the investors, you know the sort. Must be off. Ta!" Groomington announced, and sped away on his golf cart.
"You know that guy?" asked Bloo, rudely. "I know a great deal of gentlemen in the golf club." Mr Herriman replied sharply. "So, does this mean we get to play?" inquired Wilt. "Indeed. It is against club charter for non-members to roam the grounds unless they are guests of a member and are here to play golf. And I shall not have friends under my care running roughshod over the rules! Therefore, I shall attempt to educate you all on the civilised pursuit of golf." Mr Herriman stated. The friends let out a cheer.
"Yes, yes, alright. Quell your enthusiasm. I shall instruct you one at a time. Master Eduardo, you first." Mr Herriman instructed. "Yay! I gets to play with the silly little ball! I always wanted to play golf."
"Now, Master Eduardo, please take the driver, and the lesson will begin." Mr Herriman handed a club to Eduardo. "What this have to do with golf?" Eduardo asked. "Why, you use it to hit the ball! Surely you know that much!"
"You mean this is no the game with the tiny metal men?"
"Eduardo, I may be wrong, but I think that's foosball." Wilt informed Eduardo. Eduardo looked dissappointed. "Now, lower the head of the club level with the ball." Mr Herriman told Ed. Ed did so, cautiously. He then smiled. "Hey, this not so hard."
"Knees bent! Arms straight! Head up! Maintain follow through and it's all in the hips!" Mr Herriman barked at Eduardo. "What's in my hips? Get it out!" Eduardo cried, and swung the club, digging a huge divet out of the feild but not touching the ball. "Calm down buddy, it's okay. Nothing's in your hips." Wilt soothed Eduardo, who calmed down but remained panting.
"Very well, I think that's enough exitement for you for today. Master Wilt, it is your turn." Mr Herriman informed Wilt. "Okay" Wilt replied, and grabbed the club off the ground and tried to take up a golf posture. It was no good. He had to bend his knees altogether too much to get the club to reach the ground. Not to mention the inadequacy of his left arm, which made him hold the club off to the right. He swung the club, but only managed to hit his own legs. He let the club drop to the ground, grasped his leg, and began hopping around, howling in pain. "Is you okay Wilt?" Eduardo asked. "Cococo?" asked Coco. "I'm fine guys", said Wilt, gritting his teeth. "Lemme give it another go. I just need practice."
"I am sorry, Master Wilt, but due to your....handicap, I'm afraid that you are incapable of playing golf." Mr Herriman said sorrowfully. "Cocococo?" asked Coco. "Heavens! If Master Wilt cannot play with one hand, then you have no chance at all!"
"Co!" Coco snatched the driver out of Mr Herriman's hand in her beak and went to the ball. "Coco cocococo!" Coco shouted, as she spun around in a circle, and then hit the ball. Whoosh! the ball screamed over the feilds, and landed somewhere in the far distance. "My word! Such talent! And in one so uneducated! Just think of what she could achieve if she was to be properly trained! She may even be able to win the Silaceous open! The prize for that is five thousand dollars! That would be enough to send Madame Foster on that cruise she's been talking about. Goodness knows she deserves it!" Mr Herriman muttered to himself. "Five thousand dollars, eh?" muttered Bloo to himself.
"Miss Coco? Could you do that again?" asked Mr Herriman, placing another ball down. "Coco cococococo!" Coco spun around once more, and once more, hit the ball as far as the eye could see. "All the way to the lodge!" Mr Herriman remarked. There was a shattering in the distance. "Well, noone saw that."