“THIS IS ABSURD,” Comma groused. “I do all the work in the most complex sentences in the land of Grammar, but I have to wait for you to roll in at the end just so you could reap all the glory.”
“That is because no sentence is complete without me,” Full Stop blustered.
“Really?” Comma said smugly. “Can you complete exclamations? Can you complete questions?”
CLACK! Teeth collided with teeth. There was more teeth-gnashing before Full Stop managed his retort. “My powers extend beyond punctuation. Who developed capitalisation? Who developed abbreviation?”
“Abbreviation!” Comma scoffed. “A completely useless invention—just a ploy to make yourself appear more useful. That is why you throw yourself between the letters or at the end.”
“Abbreviation is the wave of the future. It will quadruple the rate of book production.”
“You will put thousands of words out of work.”
“My company will become more efficient.”
“Our company, Full Stop. Our company. No one else can do my job. No one else can keep order in a sentence the way I do. No one can keep a sentence together the way I can.”
“You are just a word monitor, Comma—a silly sentence prefect.”
“Can you keep phrases and clauses organised? Can you keep a list together? Can you keep anything attached to a sentence? Can you glue on introductory words?”
“With a little training another Mark could—”
“Ha! You are just miffed because after all these years you have no royal title.”
“Everyone knows that I am worthy of kingship. Why do you think they elected me Prime Mark and ruler of Grammar?”
“You egomaniac! You are not nearly as important as you think. Every time the conjunctions and I join two sentences, we replace you.”
“Enough! Both of you!”
The bickering Marks jumped. Full Stop actually bounced. The Creature had startled them. As usual, they had forgotten that he was there. Understandable really, since he had no form. He was just some strands of wispy thread. The wisps swirled rapidly, creating a gust. Reams of paper unravelled. Strips churned in the air like stringless kites. The Marks blinked. Their eyes stung, whipped by the gust. They shivered too. In seconds, the air had been frozen. The Creature was angry.
“You exhaust me—you two and this Punctuation Rift. Listen to me now. Fight over punctuation. Fight over the words, but agree on this.”
An engraved stone tablet shifted towards the feuding Marks. There was an ominous grating sound as the tablet grazed the floor beneath their feet.
“Swear it!” the Creature ordered. “Make this Pact, or I leave Grammar.”
The feuding Marks glared at each other. Without the Creature, Grammar would crumble.
