counterpoise

Rezik checked his beloved catapult once again.

"Cluckers! The willy-nillies got to it this time!".

“Mark my words, aim’s to shoot higher”, Sicho said with half-cooked self-insurance preening intently into his pock-marked reflection from his faintly-cracked back-pocket mirror.

“Globbity fobmogger! That is obvious pollity-shlit! You keep up with your woomanizing…”.

“But those are words well-winnowed from the rough grain of the life-empirical, buddilocks”.

“Ah, yes. Winnowed indeed.  From sensical thoughtfulness!”.

This time Rezik wound up the trebuchet tighter and positioned it on a slight incline.

Thwang!!! The pudgy projectile ejected prematurely along the usual trajectory of curvilinear propagation and landed splat atop a peeking duck! Thwack!!!

Quack!! Quack!!!

The bird victimized thus went on thereafter to put on a wanton display of jittery goo-goo eyeballs and with hastily-sputtered chastising exited the scene waddling down the other side of the Isle of MishMash-Trash its webbed toes daintily pecking the pompom-posies.

“Quackery at its worst, one might say”.

“Didn’t quite duck that one, poor doo-doo!”, Sicho rejoined looking rather grumpitiful.

Enter Miska Shoogaze. Sole heir of pillagions tapped from Sumatran rubber and suckered from Newfoundland blubber. She packed a bit of both.

“Rezik Vecox, not done with that catapull thing yet?”.

Eyeballs rollicked.

“Keep up with that ignoring act and I’ll keep on boring till the light of love pierces your numbskull somedawn”, she yelled as half-a-tear ballooned in each eye.

“Don’t go all misky on me, lassie”, Rezik semi-comforted,”I’ve got higher things to shoot for. Find yourself a pliant pillion and he’ll keep your bobby-saddle warm.”

At this, Miska decidedly pulled the chain on the sentimental train and found herself careening to a a stop, an inch short of Tipping Point. 

She was usually the sort of creature for whom no manner of discouragement could be reason for dissuasion. This however bruised her nascent sense of social station no matter the sensation of elevation arose from being held aloft Daddy Shoogaze’s well-padded shoulders.

“Higher than my fortune?? Rezik Mantiboa Vecox, you are dreaming big indeed but watch your step its a steep fall from the heavens. Your willful spirit is but a fragile catapull that may not launch forever!”.

“Hah!! Fragile perhaps but it won’t ever care to piggyback on piggybanks and greenbacks!”.

Miska suddenly recognized in that defiant smile the old schoolboy’s face she had oozed undisguised affection for all these years. His yet untroubled cockiness in face of her indiscreet exhibition of their yawning class-divide — such contrition filled her baring bosom as would turn her conical ears beet-red as they did on such occasions.

Rezik’s heavenward gaze soon caught the deepening coloration in its periphery. His sanctimonious posture dissipated and his chin lowered meekly towards Ms. MS’s cherry-red shoes in acknowledgement.