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It was a dark and stormy night. She had been awake most of the evening, filling out forms of all shapes and colors. Her hair, normally piled neatly on top of her head, was a gnarled mess falling about her shoulders. If one were to look closely, they would discover that she had been crying. Light tracks streaked her delicate brown skin where the teardrops had cascaded down her cheeks. "I can't do this", she said exhaustedly, "They don't need to know about my herps."
"And don't forget the clap you got when you were in Thailand." said a voice from the darkness. "But no worries, I'll help you out."
" Wh-who said that?", she asked to the shadows. "Show yourself! Appearicus Instantio!" A brilliant arc of blue flame leapt from her fingertips and exploded, blasting away all the darness and gloom. In the very corner of the room was a small cricket who sat, smiling crookedly...
"I don't think you should tell them about THAT," chirped the little bug, "These cheeky bastards get all squeamish about those sort of things. By the way, my name's Fopp" And with this, the cricket jumped onto the arm of the futon, still smiling in his lopsided way. "So, what else you got?"
"Well, I've had the chicken pox. Just last week, actually." Tuba smiled to herself in spite of the fact that she was a little unsure about talking to a cricket; even if he was rather helpful. (In fact, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed likely that she was just losing her mind, going crazy, getting loony, being...well, you get the idea. At least he wasn't a bird.)
"So, ummm," she stammered, "Where did you come from?"
"Oh, here and there. I've been around for awhile."
"Uh-huh." She wasn't really interested anyways, she thought. Making polite conversation with an insect wasn't really something she was good at, mostly since she had never tried it before.
Suddenly, the closet door, directly across from Tuba, flew open with a loud bang. A cackling, high pitched voice came from inside, "Vhy don't you tell him about your maaaagic?", said the voice. A moment later, Tuba's freind Brick leapt from the closet wearing only spotted underroos, a shabby cape fashioned from a rather large napkin, and a collander on his head. He was laughing hysterically and yelling in a german accent. "I am the polka dot kiiiiiiing!," he screamed.
Instictively, Tuba muttered a single, shocking word. "Cruciatus!" A second later, Brick fell to the floor. For a few terrifying moments, his body twisted and writhed like a snake having a seizure. His face was contorted into a mask of pure pain, his eyes rolled back in their sockets. For a few terrifying moments, Tuba and the cricket simply watched, unable to do a thing to help. With a bright flash, Brick was gone and only a small pile of dust remained.
Tuba just stared at the small pile with shock. "Ohhhhh, shit....," she said slowly, "What did I do?! I mean-I never knew...I could do ...THAT!" She was bordering on hysterical, her initial surprise giving way to terror. "I just disintegrated Brick!"
"I told you, no worries. I'll help you out..." replied Fopp casually. He promptly hopped off the arm of the futon, if a little reluctantly (he HAD gotten comfortable) and made his way over to the dust pile. "Guess you thought it was only with the paperwork. Besidse, this wasn't your friend. It was only a golem; made to look like your friend. Hence the underwear and the accent."
"Wait. You mean that wasn't Brick? What's a golem?" Tuba was returning to her senses now, and she was beginning to wish she wasn't.
"I could sit here all night trying to explain it to you, but it'd be easier to just show you. Suffice it to say that it's not human. Have you got a scrap of paper?" Tuba nodded. "Good, now write the word of God on it and hand it here."
She had no idea what the word of God actually was, but she could think of a few guesses. She picked one out and wrote it down on the small piece of paper. "Dandy" it read. She finished writing and handed the paper to Fopp.
"Thank you," he said, "Now you put the paper in the middle of the mound and then say the magic words. The bug whispered a few words which, to Tuba sounded something like 'animal guts' or 'animate pus'.
Hopping back up to the futon, Fopp declared, "Now just watch."
Within a second or three, the dust began to swirl together, rising off the floor by the force of some unseen wind. Particle by particle, mote by mote, the dust came together and rearranged itself until it took on the general shape of a person.
Tuba could make out arms and legs, fingers and toes, a chest, a head. When the mysterious wind died down, a figure stood where the "Here Lies Brick" plaque should have been. Covered from head to toe in dust and ash, the figure smiled broadly and promptly sneezed, scattering dust everywhere. "Hi, I'm Dust...in....your living room.", the figure said, looking around appreciatively. "Nice place."
Just then two men, dressed like they had just stepped out of an old B-movie, complete with tinfoil spacesuits and fishbowl helmets, entered the room. Looking out the window at the raging storm pelting the city street with raindrops the size of buicks, the astronauts realized they were in the wrong story. With a hasty and somewhat embarrassed apology, they walked out of the apartment forever.
Meanwhile, far off in the
Thought the sun was shining, a small gray cloud hung above their heads, threatening at any moment to throw a full tantrum if it did not get what it wanted. The pair had nicknamed the cloud 'Satan' because of its angry and deceitful nature. One edge of the cloud twitched back and forth like an irritated feline about to pounce. "I hate that thing," muttered Court-Knee, "But I love it, too."
"Ugh" was all the Brain could muster up as a response.
1 comment:
i like it... we need dragons... and someone needs to get muffin toppedpoopy1
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