The Pi Sisters at Malory Towers

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: CHOOSING THE SCRIPT

                   

'Alright girls,' said Alicia as the form gathered around to see who had won the play script contest. 'I've got a couple of gems here. One in particular. She glanced at the Pi sisters. She had known just by reading the title, of course, who had written 'Priscilla of the Abbey'!

'Let's start from the bottom, shall we,' said Alicia. She cleared her throat, and then, in a perfect imitation of the Pi Sisters' high pitched, whiny voices, began reading.

'Priscilla of the Abbey,' she began.

It was a warm day at the Abbey, perfect for praying. Priscilla, after attending her usual Sunday mass, sat on a rock, contemplating the selfishness of humankind.

Here Alicia paused so that the initial sniggers subsided.

Why can't the world be more like me, she continued. Gracious and elegant in every way, she thought to her self. Then maybe we shall achieve true enlightenment.

Alicia grinned round at the hysterical girls. 'Looks like little Priscilla is a would-be philosopher,' she gloated. 'Why can't the world be more like me? Ooooooooh!' she wailed, sending the girls into fits of laughter.

The Pi Sisters stood up, faces red with anger.

'How dare you make fun of our story like that,' spat Doris. 'We know that shameful rock star Marc B is our father, but that's no reason to victimise us!' With that, the Pi sisters jumped up and flounced out of the room.

'Looks like Mummy's darlings aren't so saintly when they're angry,' said Alicia, not in the least perturbed about what happened.

'Stop Alicia,' said Darrell uncomfortably. 'I don't like all the spite in the air tonight. Do get on to reading the winner.'

The play was announced, the characters were chosen, and the Pi Sisters were stuck with the part of non-speaking maids. But they didn't care. By hook or by crook, they were going to get revenge on that wretched Alicia Johns!