you think you know us

Irma•Celeste•Sophie•Esme•Phoebe

written by Brian Michael Bendis art by Chris Bachalo & Tim Townsend

“Probably because it sounds like coo coo, which makes you sound like you either really enjoy cocoa puffs, or you’re coo coo crazy. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be addressed by Frost-Summers. As much of a group you are, you’re also individuals. It doesn’t feel right calling you all one thing.”

“It just won’t take. Annoying, really, because listening to people whinge about our surname as though it needs to meet everyone’s exacting standards of acceptable naming conventions is tedious as all hell.”

“Cuckoos are brood parasites. Besides, I don’t want to constantly collectively call you the Cuckoos. That’s just annoying.”

“Why are people always so weird about our name? It’s the Stepford part I’ve always found a bit insulting, not this.”

Dante knocked on the door. There was no answer, but Dante could faintly hear the sound of the inhabitants shushing one another. Dante looked back at the Cuckoos, shrugged, and kicked the door down.

“You should really apologize for that mess,” they chimed in unison.

      “No one knows how to be anything else. That’s a        cop-out.” She exhaled another sigh, and found a surface to sit on, lean against, kicking her legs out in front of her. She didn’t know if there was a solution to this – maybe it was something that was going to be a violent circle, with no resolution.       “I’m guessing mentor is out, too.”

How much of Emma’s identity they were truly wrestling, that was a trickier question for the discerning mind.

“If we get into that then my head is going to hurt. Which wouldn’t bode well for the rest of you either.”

“Please don’t insult the spice girls in my  presence. But if you like The Heathers then  it might stick.”

“But what’s the real difference between that and just calling us the Cuckoos?”

“How many are there?”

“She means that one of them is clearly more confident,” Irma added. “For teenagers, that’s a good clue. He’s sitting in the back of the room.”

“Wait. Sophie, Phoebe. Irm…Mindee. Thought I had something there. Cleste. Esme. It’s sort of SPICE.”

“Heathers is a more fun reference than British pop bands we’ve never been interested in.”

“So, you want to be related to me only for the man  power. How about The Spice Girls?”

“It’s clever, but their entire alleged career predates our...existence? Lifespan? You know what I mean.”

“I cannot call you anything, without you getting upset.” She tucked blunt blonde behind her ears, trying to find something to do with her hands. “You matter to me, of course you do. You’re not  a low priority. But I don’t want to put you in a position  you don’t want to be in. Physically, we are what we   are. But emotionally, that’s what you have to decide.”

“What if we - how are we meant to decide something like that if we don’t know what we’re supposed to do?”