the Adventures of le' Jeffry-the mysterious Dr. Steve Wormy | Teen Ink

the Adventures of le' Jeffry-the mysterious Dr. Steve Wormy

May 19, 2012
By AllenStovall PLATINUM, Port Lavaca, Texas
AllenStovall PLATINUM, Port Lavaca, Texas
23 articles 0 photos 12 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;two things are infinate, the universe and human stupidity, and im still not sure about the universe&quot;<br /> albert einstein


Le’ Jeffry was the most prestigious private eye in the whole cage. He had solved six minor cases the very day he emerged from his Chrysalis, and he was still going strong. Today he was investigating a murder at the feeding grounds in the cage.
The victim had been strangled and the only other evidence was a gambling chip from the Painted Gentlemen’s Club. The police had figured out that the victim’s name was Dragon. He was an official rations distributer 4th class; ration dispensers were vital to the survival of the cage and were nigh on impossible to replace. He had to get to the bottom of this and his first stop was Painted Gentlemen’s Club.











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The Painted Gentlemen’s Club was famous for its excellent service and the acceptance of any butterfly as long as they behaved and paid well enough. Along with the service, they were famous for their gambling tables. At the gambling tables you could bet anything from money to even ration tickets. The latter was the reason Le’ Jeffry was here.
He fluttered over to the bartender, a fellow that went by the name of Nemo; he was a fine man and an even finer bartender. He had also supplied Jeffry with information because Jeffry had saved him from losing a wing, but the wing had still been damaged.
“Hey Jeff,” grunted Nemo, “care for a round.”
“Sorry old friend, no drinks tonight,” responded Jeffry, “I’m here on official business.”
“Oh, and what tidbit of information do you need tonight?”
“Was there a Rationer by the name of Dragon betting some ration tickets a night or two ago,” inquired Jeffry.
“Big fella’; 4th class jacket?”
“Yeah that’s the one,” replied Jeffry.
“Yeah I saw ‘im he was betting big rations and had an even bigger mouth. Bad combination, he was attracting attention of the wrong kind, blabbing on about some big passage out of the cage. You know how that gets people should just stay in the cage and leave off it. Well anyway, I kicked him out, but he had already attracted a lot of attention, especially a gentlemen twice his size. Strange fellow he was, monocle over his right eye.”
“A monocle,” asked Jeffry, “you sure?”
“Yep, completely, it stuck out especially after I heard his accent, kinda Russian like,” confirmed Nemo.
“Dr. Steve,” whispered Jeffry, and he flew out of the building.
“See ya’ Jeff,” hollered Nemo after the private eye.














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Dr. Steve Wormy was the only person ever to outsmart Jeffry; he was a criminal mastermind dead set on getting out of the cage no matter the cost. He was notorious for his general disregard for butterfly life, his monocle, his Russian accent, and hulking size.
Jeffry had been tracking him for two days, which was quite a bit for a butterfly’s lifespan, and was closer than ever to finding his hideout. He just had one or two more underground contacts and he would be able to pinpoint the bothersome butterfly’s sanctuary.
“Come on Tommy! Talk,” yelled the private eye, slamming the unfortunate butterfly up against the wall.
“Awrioght, awrioght, watch the wings will ya’ I’ll tell ya’ all I know about it. Just cool it will ya’” relented the butterfly, “well he most definitely does not live on Fourth Street but I met a fellow, and he says he seen ‘im on Zimmerman a whiole back.”
“Thank you Tommy, I appreciate your cooperation I really do,” said Jeffry releasing the butterfly from his grasp, “I’ll hold you to that information Tommy, it better be legitimate.”
“It tis’, it tis’ I promise you’s it tis’. That’s what tha’ fella’ said I known it ta’ be, or my name ain’t Tommy Trickster,” confirmed Tommy, nodding furiously.
“Hmm, that reassures me Tommy, it really does,” said Jeffry dryly, “I’ll be seeing you tommy.”
On that note the private eye shot off into the sky heading for Zimmerman Street.




























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The insidious insect’s hideout was a dingy little flat with an innkeeper who asked no questions and wanted little answers. The room was covered in scientific instruments and newspaper clippings strewn across the table and floor.
He had found the flat by interrogating more of Tommy’s kind with very convincing bribes or even more convincing threats. After giving the innkeeper an “inquires fee, so to speak” he learned Dr. Steve Wormy was out at the moment, and was given the key after he had paid the even more arduous “Assistance fee.”
So there he was inside the hovel of one of the most intelligent criminals in butterfly history, searching for anything to connect him to the murder of Dragon, and anything to do with leaving the cage.
He was just about to start snooping when a voice behind him said, “hello stranger, or should I say the famous Le’ Jeffry.”
Le’ Jeffry spun around to see a hulking butterfly with a monocle over his right eye standing in the doorway of the room.
“Hello doctor,” said Jeffry, “I know that you murdered that Rationer, and I also know that you’re planning to escape the cage. They let us out eventually, I mean what’s a day or to if we get released soon enough.”
“Soon enough,” sputtered the doctor, “to a butterfly that could be everything, we only live so long and they put us in a cage for their enjoyment instead of letting us live our life the natural way. It goes against nature,”
“Oh doctor,” said Jeffry, “don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic, now come with me nice and easy and we’ll put you in an even smaller cage for our enjoyment.”
“No! I will not be hindered,” screamed the doctor as he flew at Jeffry.
He threw his fist at Jeffry’s sides and face, and Jeffry blocked each hit easily though they jarred his arms with the force behind them. Jeffry returned a few punches of his own though they barely affected the hulking figure.
The doctor landed an affective punch to Jeffry’s abdomen and fled while Jeffry struggled to regain his breath. As soon as he got the air returned he rocketed after Steve. He flew down the stairs, and through the front door.
Once he was in the open air he searched the sky for Dr. Wormy. He saw the saw a ripple in the normal traffic of the colony and spotted the big bug. He shot off towards the butterfly, gradually gaining because the doctor was strong but slow.
He was getting closer and the traffic was thinning as they headed to the more shady parts of the cage, more specifically the docks. He knew there was nowhere for the doctor to go once he was to the docks, and Jeffry and the doc would have to fight it out.
The doctor came to a stop at the edge of the docks and landed. He turned to see if Jeffry had kept up and once his gaze landed on the private eye his eyes were full of malice. Jeffry landed in front of the doc in a ready stance.
“So this is where the great chase leads us to, eh Stevie,” said Jeffry
“It would seem so Le’ Jeffry,” replied Dr. Steve dryly.
“Ah come on Doc call me Jeff.”
“Alright Jeff, but I’m afraid it won’t be used that long,” and with those words he lunged forward.Jeffry went low and caught him in his stomach; the pair landed on the ground flinging punches and grappling with each other. Finally with one heave he flung the hefty butterfly into the water.













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It was a few days after that night and Tommy Trickster had called up Jeffry to give him some information.
“Why are you feeling so giving today Tommy,” asked Jeffry suspiciously.
“Just wanted to get in your good graces and all, and maybe for a buck or two, ya’ understand don’t ya’ Jeffy,” replied the sleazy informant.
“Don’t call me Jeffy again and there just might be a buck or two, now what do you got for me,” Asked Jeffry, his patience thinning.
“Welp, the word on the street is that there’s a new bug out an about, she was a late bloomer so to speak and was just released a whiole back,” said tommy
“Okay Tommy what has this got to do with me?”
“Well she’s a mercenary kind, but she got ‘er own agenda, and it’s been rumored that agenda is you, ‘er names Joyce.”


The author's comments:
this was an assignment for mmy english class that required us to write a story about a painted lady butterfly, so i went all out and wrote this piece which was one of the best in the class. now im submitting it to teenink

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