An Insurrection

It was a rainy day in verdant England. Sean and Calvin were having a grand day playing in the pastures, and devising devious plans.
“I'm quite tired of all these monstrous slurs. Let us start an insurrection!!” Sean looked extremely jovial and pleased with himself as he kicked his way through the puddle in front of him.

“What does that even mean, Sean? Do you even know what that means? I definitely don't know.” Calvin, his life-long friend, who happened to be a little behind in the vocabulary department, seemed a bit agitated at the thought. I don't think he understood a quarter of the words in that sentence!

“Well of course I know what it means Calvin. An insurrection is an act or instance of rising in revolt, rebellion, or resistance against civil authority or an established government, of course. It's what people do these days. I think it's a brilliant idea.”

“You and your words. You are a fountain of useless information, you know that? And what are we revolting against anyway,” Calvin asked.

“Monstrous slurs of course,” Sean replied nonchalantly.

“Well, yes, but what kind of monstrous slurs Sean? We can't just make them up!”

“Of course we can Calvin! No one needs a reason for a revolution except that the don't like the way things are going now, and they have a better idea! For instance, if I were king of this great land, no one would ever have to take a bath!

Sean chuckled as they continued walking though the green, misty pastures of Oldham, flinging mud pies at each other and giggling about Flora Bailey, who was the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world according to them. As they came to the edge of Sean's farm, they plopped down next to the nearest fence post and began devising the insurrection.

“First, Calvin, we need to devise a plan to get people on our side. Like candy or something. And then we need to devise a plan to take over the world, and quick. Mum's going to make me take a bath today and I want it to be my last one.”

“Hm,” Calvin thought. “We could offer to do people's homework for them!”

“That would work, except no one would let you do their homework Calvin.” A frown came over Calvin's ruddy little face.

“How about ice cream,” Sean suggested. An ear-to-ear grin came across his face.

“And where are we going to get this ice cream, King Sean,” Calvin replied sarcastically. Sean realized that this idea was intangible for lack of funds, and his grin quickly dissipated. Calvin felt quite satisfied. It's not often he gets to shoot Sean down like that.

“I think,” Calvin suggested, “we should come up with these monstrous slurs you were talking about earlier. Maybe that will inspire us!”

Sean's face lit up and he began patting himself down looking for a writing utensil and paper. Luckily he'd left them in his pants pocket. He always wanted a pen an paper ready in case he had another brilliant idea.

“That's the first smart thing you've said all day, mate! What'll the first one be,” Sean asked, pencil to paper.

“Well… how about that every one wears socks! That's just terrible!”

“No, no, no. That's not a slur! That's a fact! And socks aren't terrible, they're just extremely annoying.”

“Well what's a slur then you ninny,” Calvin asked, a bit embarrassed at his suggestion.

“A slur,” he paused, “is to cast aspersions on; to calumniate, disparage, depreciate.” He looked at Calvin's face for some sign of understanding.

“Huh?”

“Goodness, Calvin! It's to make someone sound bad with words that aren't true!” Sean shook his head.

“How do you know all this stuff anyway Sean? Bloody hell! We're only ten!”

“I just know Calvin. Now get on with it then. What slurs shall we say are being said?”

“How about that… I don't know, Sean! I'd like to see you come up with something!”

Sean answered with a smirk, “Well that's easy, Calvin. All we have to say is that the government told us our mothers are all wenches!” He scribbled furiously. Calvin's eyes widened, and he furrowed his brow.

“But that isn't true at all Sean! The government never said that!”

“Precisely, Calvin. If we can get people all riled up, we can make an insurrection, and then we can talk in front of thousands of hundreds of people and become kings and never have to take baths! It's brilliant!”

“I think it's preposterous and I won't do it,” Calvin said indignantly as he crossed his arms.

“We'll see, Calvin. We'll see. All this scheming is making me hungry. Shall we continue this tomorrow?”

“I guess,” Calvin said with a shrug.

“Alright then, cheerio!” Sean rose from the muddy grass, crammed his pen and paper into his pants pocket once again, and ran to the house.

“Cheerio, mate!” As Calvin shuffled off back to his cottage, he couldn't help but grin as he thought about what escapades the would have tomorrow.