Respect

"I think we need to talk," I said.

Or rather. I needed to talk.

I had come to this devastatingly dingy area with strange people who think they know my children because, before anything else in my life, Angela Dominique Ames Petrelli is a mother. And a good one at that. I have to protect my "pack" as some would say. Which means that I have to deal with certain situations like no one else can, i.e. Mr.Muggles. I knew that Mr. Muggles would understand the pack mentality that dictates that the strongest must take care of her cubs no matter what they age they are or however promiscuous or emotive. Or no matter how new. Like my granddaughter Claire that I am slowly but surely coming to care for. We have a bond, now, Muggles and I: that stubborn child, just like her father, just like her grandmother. But I digress. I had a meeting with the infamous Muggles.

"Don't speak."

"I have come to propose to you a deal... I understand you are like a sibling to my recently acquired granddaughter and for your worries about her, I shall assure you that I will personally assure her health and well being. I will protect her from my darling Nathan if the need ever arises (I am absolutely positive he won't emotionally scar her and I shall protect her if the need arises. But it won't. Ever.) I think that that should allay your fears of distrust in our abilities to care for Claire emotionally. While strange...the Petrellis stick together, as best we can. "

"As for the deal portion of this particular conversation. I have it on good authority that your Mother may not be here to get you anytime soon, so I've arranged a stay at the finest canine palace in Texas.



You will have your own manicurist, your own pedicurist, a fur specialist, a dentist with assistant, and the latest in doggy couture...





...All I want from you is trust: trust that I will do whatever is in Claire's best interest. I also would like for us to be friends. You've helped me see my family quite a bit more differently that I do and I feel that may lead to some interesting tactic changes on my part."

"I am also willing to offer the role of my consultant during the straining time on
our family. You would have the position of giving me a second opinion on certain politico-social situations."


"Regardless the hotel and its services are free of charge" I added blithely

I felt as though to truly honor the almost maniacal nature of the very slippery Muggles, there was one more thing I needed to say.

"...One last thing. It has been a joy watching how your mind deals with such class on issues that can become paparazzi fodder in the blink of an eye. I commend your style. Think of what we could do together...."

"Don't answer just yet..." I walked down the hall towards the front entrance of the jailbitten kennel and before whispering only one more thing to my former adversary



"The rest is up to you."

The Muggles Situation...

It has become obvious to me over the gradual passage of time that I will have to handle the Muggles situation on the behalf of my darling (if not recently a bit aggravating,) son Nathan. Alas, I did not believe that this situation would spiral so out of my control. To truly remedy this catastrophe I would have to handle this in person, hence my recent visit to the kennel currently harboring this Mr. Muggles character. As I approached the strangely dressed receptionist, it became obvious to me that this meeting of minds might not go as smoothly as I had originally planned.



Nevertheless, my precious progeny's entire career had been put at risk by my long lost grandchild's former pet, so I endeavored on. I demanded a meeting with the resident known as "Mr. Muggles" and insisted I be allowed to speak with him right away. The oddly, tastelessly dressed, immensely frightening kennel worker led me down a dark, dank hall filled with the disturbing chirping and growling of numerous mangy animals that truly made me feel as though I were on some sort of prison block listening to the cat calls of a desperate, doomed population of death penalty inmates. I still can't believe they had the nerve to use their little harsh doggie tones with me! I had to bang on a few gates to keep them in line. No one attempts to intimidate Angela D.A. Petrelli and emerges unscathed. I swear, I couldn't understand why someone with the tactical maneuvering machination of someone like the cunning Muggles to be group among such a crowd. And yet, for the love of my oldest son, I soldiered on.



Soon, the demonically dressed slightly androgynous individual led me to a door marked "Do Not Disturb and/or attempt to feed. In a ominous tone the made-up youth said "What you seek lies within." After giving him a stern talking to about facial cleanser and and professional courtesy I turned to the entrance to the back room, making a note to send the Haitian after that little goth individual. Perhaps I'd make him forget that he has absolutely no fashion sense or manners. At last, I was to meet the creature that threatened the success of the entire Petrelli clan and what I saw inside was...a very small dog. For some reason, I had expected something a little bit more menacing, not coordinated twin hair bows and color coordinated nail polish. Nonetheless, it was a very snappy look that even I have to admit is hard to pull off. "Mr. Muggles, I presume. I suppose I shall start by introducing myself."

"No need." he said.

And so, it had begun.

Recognizing Greatness...Petrelli Greatness, of course.

I have to admit, my little wonder Nathan was right about the waffles. They aren't terrible. The service, however, was a totally different story, Everyone was dropping things off at that morbid little death shrine and barely paid any attention to the fact that my coffee had become lukewarm. For heaven's sake let the poor child die in some modicum of peace and refill my coffee! I might have to buy this place just to get a fresh cup. The chocolate chip waffles on the other hand were quite good, when I finally got them amongst all the mooning of this Charlie person. Honestly enough, if they are going to put up shrines they should put one up for my little darlings, Nathan and Peter. After all both of them graced this tacky little backwater diner with their presence and it seems as though no one noticed that they were even here.

Where are the "Vote Petrelli" signs???

Where is the monument of Peter saving that little, his darling niece???

My poor Peter risked his very life to save a cheerleader and yet all you here about her in...what is this place called again? Odella? Ophelia? Oh, Odessa. All you here about in Odessa, Texas is "Poor Charlie, it's so sad that she was decapitated and then her brain was dissected for parts by some absolutely insane sociopath who has been rampaging across the country apparently eating brains."

Really, is it all that interesting?

Is that something that educated people pay attention to?

I think not! But saving the life a girl who is in the prime of her youth from that very same sociopath? Now, that's something to write home about. And of course, my precious angel did. Write home to me, that is. And did he get any recognition for his truly benevolent act?!?! No! He got arrested. They put a Petrelli in jail! Now I admit I've spent a little time in the "Big House" myself for that little incident in the department store, but really, the officials should have known better. And they had the nerve to actually question him, for his involvement in a crime. I almost had a mind to hunt down those silly little FBI agents myself and have the Haitian...educate them.

I swear the people in this place have no conception of true greatness. Soon the Petrelli name shall be worldwide and this shanty little...but I'm getting ahead of myself. Perhaps the Haitian could make a little trip to the Burnt Toast Diner. Maybe service would be a little better if no one remembers that little, what was her name again? That little Charlie person. What kind of name is that for a girl? It'd truly be a benevolent action, seeing as they are having such a hard time moving past their tragic loss and getting to my coffee...

*finished*

More Petrelli poetry...and some dog

Considering the controversy surrounding this particular poet and one of my beloved children, I will refrain from making any sort of derogatory comment about small overly opinionated dogs and their respective lack of restraint and respect when criticizing one of the best future politicians in this great country. Enjoy the poem!

Mr. Muggles

by One of a breed of small dogs having long, straight hair, erect ears, and a tail carried over the back

Marvelous Body
Radiant Personality
Milk Loving Fool
Ugly-Hating Being
Gorgeous Fur
Glamorous Lifestyle
Loves Mommy Alot
Elite Surrounding
Specialized in Breeding.

This particular poet is near and dear to my heart seeing as he is one of my two beloved children. He's going through a dark time in his life. Apparently, he's finally gotten that haircut that I've been asking him to get for months now and he's a bit miffed at his loss of hair. It's a wonderful piece of poetry that I feel everyone should vote for (along with his brother Nathan's upcoming poetry and of course, my own, to seal the perfect Petrelli trifecta of winning literary works.) Indeed, it is one of the finest pieces of literature that I have come across in quite a long time. Therefore, it is a moral imperative that you vote for my son. Right now.

The Metaphorical Eclipse

by My Youngest Dearest Darling

Pedals of the pink pansy turn brown and die
It is with great anger that they return to the Earth
There is no relief, only more darkness
The sun is blocked out in the sky.
Rivers of blood flow through the streets
Vampires descend to the Earth, slaughtering sheep
Wolves rain from the sky, killing yaks
The ghosts of yaks rise to Heaven
Only to return as angry thunderbolts
A car explodes, a baby dies
The mother kills herself out of grief
Her cut wrists forming the blood river Styx

Skyscrapers blacken and turn to dust
A halo can be seen forming around the head of the farmer
His pitchfork extends to infinity
As it rapes the virgin soil
The soil is the soul of the sorriest sunless sunflower
And the resting place of the pissed pansy who has passed on
There is no sun for either of them
Or the demanding dandelion
There is only pain, only suffering
From the vampires to the yaks to the pansies
All this because the sun is eclipsed by the moon
All this because a solitary lock of hair fell
Fell dead to the Earth
Rest in peace lock of hair

Incompetence

My beautiful Nathan told me about this little hole in the wall pancake and coffee place called the Burnt Toast Diner. Why would they advertise the fact that they can’t make toast? It seems rather silly to advertise the fact that your diner can not properly heat bread.

I have no earthly idea why my dear boy considered this…restaurant to reach my culinary standards. The décor is deplorable and those uniforms, my God. Don’t these people have stylists? No one can wear that shade of pink. It’s like something off the rack. Nevertheless, I suppose I shall reserve judgment until I try one of these little waffle creations. Perhaps the fare can make up for the absolutely horrid furnishings. This entire shop needs to be feng shui’ed.

Where’s the service in this place?

Where are the waitresses?

What is that tacky little candle/flower stand doing in the middle of a diner?

It seems like ineptitude follows me around… That little strumpet just walked past me. Did she just…did she just have the nerve to walk away from me and ignore me when I wanted service? Does she not know who I am? Does she not understand the power of the Petrelli name?!!?!

Incompetence! I am surrounded by incompetence. Not just here but everywhere. My precious Nathan’s staff can’t seem to protect him from horrid little leeches like that filthy little Meredith and that little blonde strumpet that Linderman sent after him. And my staff?!?! They are the worst of them all. All I asked that brain-washing Haitian to do was smuggled my super-powered granddaughter out of the country after shooting and erasing her adoptive father’s memory after her entire family was taken hostage by a radioactive psycho. Is that so hard? Was that simple task really so complicated? I expect dedication! Perseverance! He should have erased the memory of every smarmy little security guard in little podunk airport to protect my precious Nathan’s progeny! And the little brat picked his pocket!

I wasn’t expecting her to look so much like that tramp Meredith. Maybe we’ll dye her hair a nice Petrelli brunette. I wonder if that would help Nathan’s campaign. I suppose it might do to replace Heidi. That wheelchair doesn’t really do anything for Nathan’s chances in office. And he will be in office. He will be a congressman if I have to make that Haitian erase the memory of the other candidate in the minds of every single…I need to practice my yoga breaths my life coach taught me… Honestly, I really can’t believe she had the nerve to come looking for my darling Peter! Well, I shall enjoy disabusing her of that particular notion!