“Yes!”
She explained how they had used a rendering application to turn the photographs into skins for CGI models that could then be edited. “The stock running animation is fairly wooden if you spend a lot of frames showing it, so we move the camera angle a lot.” She backed the video up to illustrate how they used just a few frames of the computer-generated movement intermixed with close-ups of the Lost Boys and shots of tropical rain forest that they had made to seem moonlit by manipulating the color spectrum and lighting. She let it play through to the sword fight.
“So cool. But how do you know how to do all this?” Iggy asked as the video ended.
“We make videos all the time.” She pointed at their production company logo that she had put at the end out of habit.
“Lemon-Lime JEl-Lo?” Iggy cried.
“It’s a production company name.” Louise showed him how their names made up the word JEl-Lo. “Jillian Eloise and Louise. Lemon-Lime because there’s two of us.”
Iggy stood staring at her with his mouth open for a minute, and then he dissolved into laughter. “What I meant was, ‘You’re Lemon-Lime JEl-Lo?’ My sister’s got one of your posters above her bed. The ‘Blast it all’ one.”
They had designed character sketches for their series. In their videos, Queen Soulful Ember had a quick temper that led to her blowing up everything that annoyed her. “Blast it all” was her catchphrase and often triggered extreme reactions from her bodyguards and servants as they tried — politely — to keep her from reducing everything to cinders. Queen Soulful Ember’s character sketch for posters and whatnot showed her mostly buried under guards with only her madly twitching fingers visible and the words of her catchphrase flaming overhead.
The twins planned to use the artwork to make money off their videos. They’d tried to set up a store using an online retailer that would use their uploaded art to create customized items, everything from posters to coffee cups. For a small percentage of the profit, YourStore would handle everything from creating the goods to mailing them out to customers. The twins had gotten all the artwork in place and the prices set. The last step, however, required that they provide bank account information. Their parents wouldn’t allow the use of their bank account, citing everything from possible identity theft to tax reporting. Their parents didn’t want to be held liable for some financial mess that YourStore might suck them into.
Since the twins couldn’t collect income, they’d assumed that the store never went live. Had the store been selling their stuff all this time?
“A Queen Soulful Ember poster?” Louise asked. “A Lemon-Lime JEl-Lo brand from YourStore?”
“Yes! You’re famous!” Iggy laughed. “Don’t tell me that you don’t socialize online, either.”
“We hang out at Sundance and Vimeo and Vicker.”
He cocked one eyebrow in puzzlement. “What are those?”
“Filmmaker sites.” They maintained gender- and age-neutral identities on the sites, posting so that no one would track the messages back to them. It was mostly because their parents were sure that they would be cyberstalked by dirty old men. Louise doubted that anyone would be interested in them, but the secrecy kept their parents from discovering their activities on questionable sites.
“So you’re totally unaware that there are kids in this school that can quote all of The Queen’s Pantaloons?”
“All of it?”
“They totally mess up the timing of the jokes, but yeah.”
The news went through the fifth grade like a virus, visibly moving from kid to kid. The students that had been told they were Lemon-Lime JEl-Lo stared at the twins as if they had suddenly become conjoined. Which would have been totally annoying if it weren’t for the state of their finances.
After the first bell, Louise had logged quickly into their store and checked their account balance.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Jillian leaned over and frowned at the screen. “What is that?”
“That’s what YourStore is waiting for us to claim. They’ve been selling our stuff. Lots of our stuff.”
Jillian slapped a hand over her mouth to smother a squeal.
“We still have to figure some way to claim it,” Louise said. “We need a bank account.”
“We’ll get Mom and Dad to set up an bank account for us. With that much money involved, they’d be crazy not to let us claim it!”
Louise squinted, trying to see the future events unfolding implied by the numbers on the screen. “I don’t think they’ll let us keep it.”
“Why not?” Jillian cried. “It’s ours! We earned it! It’s not like we can give it back, either.”
“I mean ‘keep it’ as ‘spend it the way we want.’ They’ll want to put it all away for our college fund and things like that. Or at least, get us another playhouse. They’re not going to let us buy an antique piece of computer equipment off some unknown vendor. Remember how they got with that special-effects software we wanted to order?”
Jillian huffed as she grudgingly acknowledged that their parents would take control of the money. “A new playhouse at least would be cool.”
“We were saying we need a lot of money to save the babies.”
“This is not a million dollars. It’s not going to be a million dollars anytime soon. Besides, like Mom said, we can’t just pay for the babies to be born. They need a mom and dad and a place to live.”
Louise considered the possibility of using the money to talk their mom into having the babies. She was always snarling how she hated her boss. But she really did like her job, and knowing their mom, she’d feel as if she should quit working until the babies were in kindergarten. The money at YourStore seemed like a lot of money to them, but it didn’t equal their mother’s salary for four years.
“Think April would help us set up a bank account?” Jillian asked.
“No,” Louise said. Their mother’s work had made them aware of salaries and taxes. “If she did, this would look like taxable income for her. She would have to report it and pay taxes on it.”
Jillian frowned at the numbers. “I wish Alexander could help us. It must be great to be all grown up and have all this stupid kid stuff over with. I would love for once to be able to stay up as late as we want, to eat pizza every night for a week, and not have to clean our room all the time.”
Louise nodded. Claiming the money would be no problem for an adult.
“Oh! Oh!” Jillian cried and started to sort through data on her tablet. “We just need an adult’s Social Security number. Someone that doesn’t have to worry about added income. Esme is in another solar system. She doesn’t have to worry about filing taxes. We can use her number as the adult on our account.”
Louise ran the plan over in her mind, looking for dangers. They could set up a joint account, link YourStore to it, and then only use the money online. If they used it carefully, there would be little activity to draw notice to it. It seemed safe enough. “As long as we don’t buy anything big and expensive.”
“Like a pony?” Jillian said and did a little mime of trying to hide said animal. “What pony? Oh, that pony! It followed us home, can we keep it?”
Louise laughed out loud.
“Louise,” Miss Hamilton said, “keep it down.”
Louise smothered giggles.
“There,” Jillian announced. “And done.”
“Jilly!” Louise whispered fiercely. “You didn’t!”
“I did,” Jillian said without remorse. “And the flash-drive adapter ordered with express shipping, no signature required. It will be here tomorrow. We just have to beat Mom and Dad home.”
Louise thought of Tesla sitting in their locker, waiting to escort them home. “And keep Tesla from ratting us out.”