TBD on Ning
Tag #2
“Vinnie, I wish you’d come with me for a look under Amber’s bed,” Ellen told him.
Vinnie raised an eyebrow. “So much for the dignity of privacy.”
“It’s our duty as parents,” she said. “You’ll see.”
Without waiting for a reply, she sailed up the stairs two at a time, with Vinnie grumbling behind. Ellen raised the pink and brown quilt on Amber’s neat bed in her much horse-postered room. Vinnie dropped to his knees and waited for his eyes to adjust. He made out a quaint little town of shoebox buildings like an old Western movie set, carefully constructed with printed signs, cut-out swinging doors and glued calico curtains. Standing around were plastic horses with saddles, bowlegged cowboys, dogs and an armadillo. One of Ellen’s potted cactuses stood by.
“Nice work,” he said. She could join him in the furniture construction business some day.
“Keep watching,” Ellen said.
That was when Vinnie heard the whisper of padded footfalls in the building marked ”HOTEL” and saw a faint glow appear behind the scrap of curtain. He thought he heard the clink of cookware.
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Permalink Reply by Bmichael on
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A small, furry creature standing upright, wearing cowboy boots that peeked out from under a long, stained apron, and with a patch over one eye, pushed aside the curtain and walked rapidly towards the long buffet table – leaving behind a trail of brown liquid from a steaming pot, on the floor in its wake.
Grimacing, it clamped down harder on the fat cigar – mumbling a stream of obscenities – as it failed to keep the contents of the pot contained.
Reaching the table, it lurched forward sending a wave of soup across the table and onto the small plate piled high with bread demolishing the carefully designed pyramid – scattering soup soaked rolls the length of the table and over the edge.
“$#@%!”
Its attention was suddenly drawn to the mezzanine level – to a commotion caused by the arrival of a group of similar creatures dressed in all manner of finery – shiny black top hats, hand carved walking sticks, monocles, puffy vests and shiny watch fobs.
The noisy group was engaged in a heated discussion as all attempted to be heard at the same as they waddled slowly en masse towards the spiral staircase of the great hall.
Below, the cook nervously tried to clean up some of the mess, decided better of it, and instead turned to make a hasty exit towards the kitchen whereupon it slipped and was sent sliding headfirst along the wet floor, under the curtain, and back into the kitchen where more clinking (though this time, much louder) of cookware could be heard.
Vinnie blinked. Ellen stared.
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Permalink Reply by Westerly_2 on
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Vinnie tried to clear his head with a shake. Had he been hitting the bottle a little too much? “Are we going crazy?”
“They’re doing some hologram programming in her science class right now,” Ellen said. “Honors Science. That must be it.”
“That whole scene was way too real,” said Vinnie. “Scary.”
“That’s what I thought too. I heard rumors about the holograms becoming real. You know how people talk.”
“What do you suppose those chirpy little walking gerbils – or whatever they are – are thinking and planning. They were dressed….”
“Thinking, Vinnie?” Ellen gave him a disgusted, chastening look, which quickly turned to panic
Thinking…indeed. If only she could be a fly on the wall..
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It was an odd feeling, moving rapidly through air. She flew straight through the open window of the little cardboard hotel, and landed - all 6 legs - on the flowered wallpaper. Her eyes scoped the scene below: a bustling throng of well-dressed 2-legged critters.
I feel might strange, Ellen mused, as she settled her wings at her sides.
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Vinnie laid very still…listening to the steady rhythm of Ellen’s breathing.
Satisfied that she was asleep, he carefully left the bed and made his way down the dark hallway towards Amber’s room. His daughter was spending the night at her friend Chica’s house and wouldn’t be home until sometime tomorrow afternoon.
For days now, he had been haunted by the surreal spectacle he witnessed under Amber’s bed – small, clothed, furry creatures – walking upright… talking… cooking…and setting up buffet lines in a miniature cardboard hotel…
He retrieved the tea light from his pocket - lit it and laid down, staring under the bed – partially hidden behind one of Amber’s bed pillows.
A critter in a fine silk jacket rose from its seat at the head of the long banquet table and tapped repeatedly on an empty wine glass in an effort to gain attention. With some persistence, it finally succeeded and slowly brought order to the great hall.
“Harrumph! Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Please! May I have your attention?!”
Waiting patiently for the lingering conversations to diminish, in a remarkably loud voice it announced:
“ Blessed kind sirs and insipid subjects of the realm…it is my excruciating pleasure to introduce to you one who needs no introduction… a singer without a song… a tooth without a bite… a pie without a plate…please welcome - Hizzonah, the Mayah!!!
Vinnie gasped. From the top of the staircase a sudden flash of bright, lime green appeared – bouncing chaotically off the rails and walls – down the steps and quickly back up again – bouncing like a giant rubber ball – back and forth, up and down – to the tumultuous roar of approval and admiration of the assembled guests below.
Then in one giant leap, the blur propelled itself straight up- nearly to the top of the dome -planting its suction-cupped hands and feet squarely on the suspended mirror ball that began spinning –slowly at first, then faster and faster to the great delight of the cheering throngs.
Suddenly it broke free from the ball, rocketed skyward, and gracefully performed a spectacular single, double, triple, back flip swan dive culminating in a nearly splash-less entry into the punch pond in the center of the room.
All eyes were glued to the pond in anticipation of the extraction that never came.
One minute. Two minutes. No Hizzonah.
Worried looks were exchanged as nervous coughs erupted throughout the room.
The emcee cautiously approached the pond and peered over the edge. Instantly a small geyser of blue punch erupted – like a giant pair of hands, cradling Hizzonah gently in the air as he reclined sideways – plucking goldfish from a silver chalice – tossing them like popcorn down his toothless gullet, giant bulging eyes winking in all directions.
“Oh baby, Oh baby!” cheered the crowd in unison.
Just then a gang of furry skinheads burst into the room.
“Vinnie?” a voice whispered behind him.
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Ellen softened her steps and knelt quietly beside Vinnie. His face was bathed in the glow of the tea candle, and he resembled a boy basking in Christmas lights beneath the tree. Her turned and placed a finger across his lips.
She whispered. “Be careful of getting drawn in too far, Vinnie. The last time I did that, I turned into a fly on the wall.
Vinnie chuckled. “Good thing Hizzoner wasn’t around at the time.”
Ellen looked at the reclining green dignitary and his extensive tongue and shuddered.
Vinnie returned his attention to the busy hotel and clapped his fingers. “Yes! Skinheads dead ahead. Ho, boy.”
Ellen frowned. “Why are they called skinheads? They’re all over furry.”
“Check it out, he said. “The tattoos. See? The letters SKIN are tattooed across their scalps. Stands for Stupid Klux Into Nothing “
“Don’t like them, Vinnie, with those pistols in their waist bands and those ugly, jagged knives. Think they’ll ask the guest for their wallets and jewelry?”
“Could be,” said Vinnie cheerfully, leaning eagerly toward the scene about to unfold.
“I wonder if I could wish again like I did with the fly,” she said. And she closed her eyes and laid her head back and the skinhead forms fell away like mists in a sunbeam.
Hizzoner’s wide mouth turned down. A shared gasp erupted from the guests; they turned toward the open end of the shoebox hotel as though fixing Ellen and Vinnie in thir gaze.
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They were spiders - giant, hairy spiders.
Towering high above the cringing critters below, Vinnie followed Ellen into the ballroom.
She turned towards him. “Cool, huh?”
“Dunno - you know spiders are not my favorite.”
Below, all the creatures sat frozen in fear – trembling at the sight of them. Even the skinheads, who were armed, did nothing.
Hizzoner suddenly leaped towards the staircase. Instantly, Ellen shot a long thin strand of silk, caught it in mid-air and began reeling him in – like a fish.
“Uhh…sweetie…?”
Ellen ignored him as she sent a second strand and began wrapping Hizzoner in a glistening cocoon of webbing.
“What are you doin’?”
“I’m hungry” she giggled. “Want some?”
“What? Are you…NO!...I don’t… Ellen… STOP!”
Ellen dipped a fang into the squirming mass.
“Mmm…delicious! Honey, are you sure you don’t want to try…?”
“ELLEN! NO! DROP IT!”
Ellen turned to Vinnie and glared, her red eyes growing brighter with rage.
Dropping Hizzoner, she fired a strand at him. Vinnie quickly side stepped and responded with one of his own – striking her in the chest.
“Ow! That hurt!”
“Sorry sweets, but I…”
He didn’t finish. Ellen caught him in the jaw with a double shot that sent him reeling backwards.
“Prick!”
“Bitch!”
With that, the furry creatures suddenly jumped up and disappeared under the large banquet table.
Recovering, Vinnie shot two separate strands at Ellen’s rear legs and pulled – dropping her to the floor.
For a moment, the two stared at each other as they reloaded. Hizzoner, taking advantage of the break in the action, slowly rolled unnoticed across the floor and into the kitchen.
Like two gunfighters at high noon, Vinnie and Ellen stood measuring each other – silk sacs bulging, powerful hairy legs swaying gently, fangs dripping in anticipation – each waiting for the other to blink.
In the distance a drumbeat…slow and soft at first, then gaining in tempo and intensity, until …
“Mom? Dad? Hey…what’s goin’ on?”
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Vinnie and Ellen returned to their former crouching human forms, the adrenaline from their recent silk fight still pumping in their veins.
“Um,” said Ellen.
“I thought you were at your friend’s for the night,” Vinnie said. Take the offensive, he thought.
“Yeah, well…major drama….” There was a giant spider outbreak over there; they had to call in a SWAT team. Jasmine’s pop’s afraid of spiders and her mom wished them on him…and that’s what made me think to come back to check on the program.”
Amber snapped her gum furiously. “Seriously! What are two doing? Do not…I repeat, do NOT mess with my hologram program. It’s majorly defective, and you could get caught in a sitch with no kill switch. That’s what we’re working on in class – correcting and controlling the no brakes on it stuff.
“Now leave, I mean it, before you get hurt.”
Her parents slunk out the door and Amber closed and locked it. She set her flashlight on the floor under the bed and turned her attention to the shoebox saloon. She listened for the sound of the piano and the pounding of beer mugs on the bar. She heard the rattle of spurs against the brass rail and the rising tide of burly voices. Four scarred men played poker at a round, wooden table.
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