Disclaimer! Any and all fictional entities featured or mentioned in this segment belong to Yuji Naka, Naoto Ohshima, Hirokazu Yasuhara, and Sega.
GUYS AND THEIR DOLLS
No one spoke. No one moved. No one even seemed to breathe. Everyone's faces were wan, frozen in spine-chilling fear. Everyone's but Tails's, of course. He sat in the middle of the floor, clutching the blue plastic controller. A tiny bemused smile creased his lips.
The T.V. blew trumpets, displaying his character as the victor of the Sonic R tag game. Not a big deal, right? As a matter of fact, it was, for three reasons. The first was that Tails had never won at Sonic R tag before. The second was that he had managed to tag Super Sonic, the fastest character in the game with a reputation as being as slippery-and golden-as butter.
The third reason, unbeknownst to Tails, was the most terrifying of all.
He had done it with the Tails Doll.
"W-wow! I won! This is...gee! I-I don't know what to call it."
Amy Rose helped him out by clapping her hands against her chest and screaming a thesaurus's worth of adjectives.
"Horrible! Dreadful! Awful! Lethal! Doom-bringing! Tails, do you realize what you've just done?"
The poor fox's head shrunk into his shoulders. He didn't like it when people screamed at him. "N-n-no?"
"You've just unleashed an evil upon us that's even worse than Eggman, or Metal Sonic, or broccoli combined!" She clapped her hands over her mouth and muttered something inaudible behind her locked fingers. But the way her eyes flashed with fear told Tails that it was something terrible.
He raised his ears. "H-huh?"
Suddenly, Amy lunged in and grabbed Tails by the tufts of fur on his chest, her face a mere centimeter from his own. "The Tails Doll! The Tails Doll! He's coming to get us all! You've cursed us all!"
Sonic pried the two apart. "Amy, knock it off! You're scaring him."
Amy put a finger to her lips. "You're right. Why am I wasting my time yelling at Tails when I should be preparing for the curse? Cream, we need to set up Sonic's theme song on the MP3 player, pronto!"
Cream and Cheese nodded in agreement, although neither of them knew what exactly the big hubbub was, or even what an MP3 player was. Nevertheless, they followed her out of the den. Sonic and Tails watched them depart: Sonic shaking his head and Tails shaking all over.
"Sonic? D-did I really...what was Amy...?"
The blue hedgehog turned to his fox friend, helping him up to his feet. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. The Tails Doll is just some dumb urban legend that's almost as old as the game."
As much as Tails could and would trust Sonic, he still felt that he should ask more about this Doll, especially since it resembled him so much. "But why's it cursed?"
Sonic shrugged. "I dunno, something about bleeding to death when the Doll comes into your house in the dead of night while the 'Sunshine' song's playing, or something. Feh, Eggman made it up. Probably 'cause he couldn't stand losing the game to yours truly," he smiled proudly.
Tails cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "You've played video games with Dr. Eggman?"
Sonic chuckled, "That's what rivals do, bro. They compete in more ways than one. And between you and me, Eggman might be a machine wiz, but he sure stinks at video games. Maybe because his fingers are so fat and all. Anyway, the point is that you shouldn't let the Doll thing bug you. What you should worry about instead is whether or not you've got earplugs."
"Why?"
Sonic looked behind him and frowned. "Something tells me that Amy's gonna be going crazy with her music tonight."
That night, Amy indeed kept her MP3 player on, cranked at the highest volume it could achieve. Even worse-for Sonic, anyway-she'd invited herself onto the couch where he had intended to sleep, "to protect him from the Doll, should be music prove ineffective." Sonic wound up crawling into the corner of the room, allowing Amy, Cream and Cheese to sleep on the couch.
"But Sonic—"
"It'll be fine, Amy. We're just ten feet apart. How could anything bad possibly happen?" He screwed a plug into each of his ears and fluffed his pillow before resting his head on it.
"But you're wearing earplugs," she murmured.
…
Meanwhile, Tails tossed and turned in his own bed, paws over his ears in an attempt to block out the music. He tried clapping the pillow over his head, and even sticking his head in between the mattresses. No relief.
Finally, Tails could bear it no longer. If he wanted to get at least a wink of sleep, he would have to silence the music. They didn't need the noise anyway; Sonic had said so. In spite of worrying if Amy would catch him, he stumbled downstairs, rubbing the crust out of his eyes with his knuckles. He located the device sitting on the book rack by the couch, its neon white screen slicing through the darkness like a candle in a haunted house.
With one paw over his throbbing head, he tiptoed over to the MP3 Player, reaching for it with his other paw. Amy lay curled up, hammer clenched in her fists and head facing the MP3 Player's direction. She seemed to have fallen asleep, oddly enough. How could anyone fall asleep with all this racket? At her feet lay Cream with Cheese propped against her head, using one of her floppy ears as a blanket.
Seeing Amy's hammer had Tails holding his breath; he began to shake all over, either from fear of being smashed into a fox pancake or from the lack of oxygen-perhaps both. Paws quivering like leaves in an autumn breeze, he leaned in cautiously...quietly...carefully...
Beep.
With the mere push of a button, silence and darkness conquered the room. Tails bit his bottom lip, expecting Amy to spring up with her hammer over her head. But nothing of such happened. Her ears twitched a little, and her face scrunched up as though she was about to awaken, but in the end, all she did was turn over and settle back in. She murmured something inaudible, most likely something Sonic-related.
Gosh, Amy sure is a heavy sleeper...but now I'm so shaky, I don't think I can go back to sleep. Maybe a cup of warm milk should do the trick?
Still taking care to not make any noise, he crept around the couch and straight into the kitchen. He needed to be quick in getting the milk, lest the light in the fridge should wake everyone up. Wrapping his fingers around the cold steel handle, he slowly pulled the door open, only to have the milk carton handed to him.
"Oh, why, thank you," he whispered absent-mindedly, initially not finding it odd that someone in the fridge had just handed him the milk. Only when he was about to shut the door did he pause. Every strand of golden fur on his body prickled.
"W-wait a minute..."
Tails squinted against the blaring white light, and could make out a figure scrunched up on the top shelf. It was about as big as he was, and about the same shape and even color scheme. Why, he could've seen a doppelganger of himself in the fridge, for all he knew!
However, this figure was much more terrifying than a doppelganger, starting with the fact that it was no doppelganger at all! It looked like it was all stitched together, though in a crooked and slightly misshapen kind of way. Its head was tilted to one side, as if it was unable to hold it up, and on top of its head was something that looked like an antenna or beacon, complete with a tiny red gem that glowed a menacing crimson red. Its red light overwhelmed the light from the fridge and spilled all around the linoleum, making it seem as though Tails was standing in a pool of blood!
But the most frightening feature it possessed were its eyes, as big and black and empty as two black holes. Staring into them would surely cost someone their soul!
Whether it was from fear or the cold from the fridge-perhaps both-Tails dropped the carton and remained fixed to his spot, chills violently rattling his spine.
Good grief! It's the Doll!
Tails felt like screaming, but suddenly remembered that everyone was still asleep. He slapped a paw over his mouth, mumbled "Excuse me," and rushed over to the cupboard to pull out the biggest cup he could find. He stuck his muzzle inside it and let it go:
"Mmmmmmph!"
By the time he was finished, he was rocking back and forth, dizzy out of his wits and a tad red in the face...but not as red as the light from the Doll as it floated-yes, floated-down from the shelf and out of the open fridge. It drifted toward the poor young fox, its baggy red feet barely touching the floor.
Tails was sweating bullets now, hearing nothing but his own erratic heartbeat thundering in his ears. "Wh-wh-what do you want?" his choked out in a hoarse whisper. He needed to defend himself, wanted to! He could've even dashed for the living room and alerted Sonic. And yet, there was something in the Doll's eyes that kept him from doing much of anything; or at least, kept him from thinking as clearly as he usually did.
The Doll did not answer; it turned to the right and opened the silverware drawer, or rather, the drawer opened all on its own. Tails expected it to pull out something lethal, like a steak knife. Indeed, what arose from the drawer, gleaming as crimson red as the light that reflected on it, was a...
...spoon. A cereal spoon. It floated up to the Doll's muzzle.
Ahem, is this on? 'Ello? Testing, one, two, two, one. Can you feel the sun?
The shivers in Tails's spine vanished almost immediately. For a demonic doll, it didn't sound very in character. In fact, it sounded more British than demonic.
"H-huh? Aren't-aren't you g-g-gonna-"
Going to do what, sing to you? Yes, actually, I am. That's the 'ole reason I came 'ere, after all. I say, you look a tad out of sorts, friend.
Tails felt yet another dizzy spell coming on, but it was not from fear or lack of oxygen, this time. It was more out of confusion, bewilderment, and maybe just an ounce of mild disappointment.
"But-I-I thought that you were-I mean, by the way you-and-and when you—"
The Doll leaned backward, its disproportional head sagging from behind, and made a hearty, British hooting sound. What's the matter? Did you think I was some cold-blooded scoundrel who broke into your house to kill you?
Tails scratched behind his ear nervously. "Truthfully...y-yeah. You were in my fridge—"
Oh, do forgive me, but I needed to get away from that dreadful noise. 'Ow can anyone expect to sing with all that racket? Rude, rude, rude!
"W-well, breaking into someone's house is kind of rude, too," blurted Tails before he could stop himself. The Doll was silent for a moment or two, as though contemplating what he'd said. He was an intelligent doll, Tails was sure, but did not seem to have much common sense.
'Eavens, I 'adn't thought of that, before. No one answered the door when I knocked, so I thought I could slip in through the back. The Doll shook his head sheepishly.
Because Tails was naturally polite-and because he still felt a little wary about the visitor and what would happen if he refused to let it sing, he said, "Erm, it's okay. You came this far, I think I can spare a minute or two to listen to you sing. But I think we should go outside, so we don't wake up the others."
Can't they listen, as well? I love to have an audience.
"Well, um, to be honest, I'm not sure if they'd like to. Especially Amy," he added under his breath.
…
So the pair snuck outside, onto the runway. Tails made himself comfortable upon his tool box, while the Doll stood in front of him with the spoon to its mouthless muzzle. Are you ready?
Tails nodded, albeit uncertainly. Nevertheless, the gem at the end of its antenna seemed to gleam. It straightened up as best as it could, warmed up its voice with a string of "la-la-las", took a deep breath, and...
Can you feel the sunshine? Does it brighten up your day?
Don't you feel that sometimes you just need to run away?
Now imagine listening to twelve British stray cats yowling in the dead of night, while an ambulance screeched by, and these cats were scratching their claws against a discarded blackboard, as a flock of crows joined in the chorus, with a man wailing a lamentation on his wasted life. This was what the Doll sounded like, and it hardly got past those first two verses of its favorite song when Tails dropped to his knees, yelping in agony. It felt like knives were driven into his head through his eardrums...and before long, his ears began to bleed as though this was so, literally! Amy's music had nothing on this.
The Doll stopped singing, his wide eyes widening even further until they were as big as Frisbees. Oh smeck, not again!
"N-no, no, it's fine! I can get this treated, really," groaned Tails, wiping a dab of blood that dribbled down the side of his head. "This'll heal on its own, I-I just need to keep it from getting infected—"
Do you want a needle and thread to stitch up your eardrum? Oh, it's not fair! This 'appens every time I sing to someone! I keep telling myself that I'm not as terrible as my family says I am, but I don't think I can ignore it anymore. When I told Dr. Eggman that I'd rather be a singer than an evil racing doll, 'e utterly expelled me from the base! I'm the 'ole reason that 'e 'as no ears. And the jeers from my robotic brethren, especially Metal Sonic...boo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Despairing, the Doll whirled around and hung his head, dropping the spoon to the ground.
Despite his great discomfort, Tails came to realize not only where people got the idea of dying a slow and bloody death by the Doll, but that it really didn't mean harm. It was just another poor, misunderstood soul who wanted to make someone out of itself. He should've considered himself lucky that the Doll only sang two verses; any more, and he would've been found dead the next morning.
Nevertheless, along with the pain in his ears, he felt a pang of pity in his heart for the Doll. He stumbled over and touched it on the shoulder. "Hey, come on. You're not that bad."
Yes, I am, sniffed the Doll. I make people bleed from their ears, for the love of sunshine. And I can't say I'm much 'elp when they are 'urt.
"Well—ow—you just need some work on your voice, is all. A lot of successful folks weren't born talented. They had to—ouch—work at it, like me. I wasn't born talented at mechanics, but my love for mechanics allowed me to learn more about the subject. You love to sing, right?"
Quite.
"All you need to do is—ooh—practice. Maybe you can find an instructor to help you out?"
By George, I think you might be on to something! The gem at the end of its antenna gleamed even brighter than before.
"Oh, and another thing: try not to start out by singing too loud. You'll ruin your throat, that way. And people's ears...not to be mean, of course!" Tails added quickly, wincing in discomfort.
None taken.
The light from the Doll's gem concentrated on its velvety cheeks, making it look like it was blushing. From over its shoulder, Tails could see the dark red sun crowning over the horizon. He'd better get the Doll out of here, lest Amy see it; then things would truly get ugly. Amy was rather difficult to reason with, almost as much as Knuckles.
"Uh, it's getting kind of late. Maybe you should go home? Do you have one?"
Ah, but of course! Since I was ousted from Eggman's base, I've 'ad a lovely shelter in the attic of a kindly rabbit family. Not that they actually know I live there, but you did say that it was rude to be in someone's house without their knowledge. I think I'll let them know. Why, maybe I could ask the Mrs. to teach me to sing! But I must know: will we see each other again?
"S-sure! You can visit any time you like, as long as no one else is here." The Doll didn't understand why he could not see any of Tails's other friends, but he didn't ask, either. Instead, he let Tails give him a pawshake and best wishes. It hoped that his ears would heal soon enough so that he could listen to it sing better than before, and disappeared down the hill.
With a sigh, Tails crept back into his workshop, feeling awfully tired and uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain to the others about his ears, but at least he'd gotten the Doll away before they'd woken up. Now, to treat his eardrums...
…
When it was about fifty feet away, the Doll peered back at his new friend's home for what would be the last time in a while, his gem glowing as darkly as the rising sun.
What a nice fellow, that fox. I'll 'ave to remember to thank 'im...when I take over the world.