Time for a Valentine's special, I guess. And yes, this is based on my earlier 'Adventures of Claudia'.
Well, at least there was no more snow.
Then again, the snow did make the streets look a little more inviting. The dull yellow illumination of the streetlights and the murky buildings only emphasised how fierce the wintry chill was, and how slippery the pavement was. As Claudia walked down the pavement, she held her trenchcoat close to her, and pulled back her scarf so it didn't blow in her face. She had told herself not to entertain fantasies, and yet she couldn't help but think of herself braving a mountain of some kind. She had never been up one, but she was certain most mountains were better kept than this street; the wrappers flying in her face did wonders to bring her back to reality.
But didn't she have to think romantic thoughts today? It was the eve of Valentine's Day, and Marlon's animal pub was having a special evening for it. Everyone had to wear certain colours to imply their status – red clothes for in a relationship, yellow for "it's complicated" and green for single. Claudia did consider wearing yellow – she had her moments in the past – but decided to wear a green t-shirt she got for two quid under her trenchcoat. There may not be any caribou there, but there would likely be very few single women, and Claudia's inner child would get a kick out of the wankers and the desperate guys leering at her.
That wouldn't be nice. That's not what Abe would want, is it? Valentine's Day is supposed to be about nice things and romance so her mind should be filled with mushy crap like that. Look, she told herself, a used condom on the ground. That embodies love.
When she did reach the pub, the chill growing stronger as she approached, Claudia thought to herself on what a man might expect from her. They'd expect her to sit through the rugger, to laugh when they quote The Simpsons, and other gender stereotypes. Then, out of nowhere, she remembered something funny she saw on Have I Got News For You, and the tiny, private laugh that resulted from that lightened her spirits enough that she waltzed into the pub with a smile on her face, ducking to accommodate her antlers.
The first thing she noticed upon entering was that Marlon had been doing some re-decorating – meaning that a picture of Marlon done with bottle-caps now hung on the wall, and the lights now had little paper hearts hanging from them. Looking down from the lights, Claudia saw that, as usual, very few animals had come. There was Larry, not bothering with the theme at all and wearing a black polo shirt, a cat couple wearing red – an elderly couple, probably thinking they were being "cute" as cats so often strive to be – and one bear wearing green. Would the bear try to hit on her? Would Larry do that stupid gesture with his fingers?
Despite the bad turn-up, Claudia still opened her trenchcoat like Clark Kent opening his shirt, and revealed her green, letting her scarf flop to the floor. No-one said anything, so Claudia went for a beer.
Marlon the penguin mixologist was always a friendly sight. The little American bugger with some wild stories to tell, either serving her, quietly wiping the bar or mumbling about something or other. Claudia sat down with a 'Hello' followed by a 'Happy Valentine's Day', and he responded with a 'What will you be having?'
'Hardly in the spirit of things, are you?' Claudia said with a smirk. 'Going home alone tonight?'
'Oh shut up,' grumbled Marlon, 'What will you be having?'
Claudia instantly saw a chance to make a joke – she could stay silent because Marlon had told her to shut up – but she still said, 'I'll have a Guinness.' Those always made her mind work better.
'So...' Marlon's eyes darted around the room. 'You like what I've done with the old place?'
'You're not trying to hit on me, are you?' Claudia drummed her fingers on her beer glass.
'Nope,' replied Marlon, his eyes fixed on that stupid piece of artwork. 'I hear pubs have these, eh, kitsch artworks, and I also hear they add a certain, how shall I say, "flair".'
'Oh, Marlon,' said Claudia as she guzzled down her Guinness. 'Your pub is good enough as is.'
Marlon chuckled slightly before sighing. 'Just because it's almost Valentine's doesn't mean you can lie like that.'
'Well, sorry,' said Claudia as she sat at a table, away from the other patrons, still guzzling her Guinness. Despite the fact that the intellectual part of her brain had been awakened, the emotional part still lived on and told her to be happy and romantic and lovey-dovey.
As the sides of her brain waged their little war, Claudia coughed loudly, which drew the attention of some of the other animals at the bar. She looked at the bear, but he swiftly turned away from her. Ah, so he's a virgin because he's shy. Better than those who are virgins because they're not shy enough (Claudia knew a virgin when she saw one).
And speaking of which, Larry had just approached. Oh joy.
The sausage dog sat right in front of her, his tail wagging as usual. 'You oughta get some cough syrup,' he said in that grating voice of his. Claudia said nothing, yet he didn't follow suit. 'So, I see you're wearing the green. Still unlucky in love,' he said, his shit-eating grin revealing yellow and black fangs.
'And you're wearing black,' replied Claudia. A little pang in her stomach told her not to make a remark, but a slithering in the brain told her to do it anyway. 'Does that mean your love life's dead?'
'It means I'm a rebel,' said Larry as he tugged at the shirt, 'It means there is no girl good enough for me.'
Claudia had promised to be nice. She had promised herself that, and she had promised Abe that. Abe had been going through a bit of stress recently, what with him being behind on his mortgage and his workplace letting people go, so Claudia thought if he wanted her to be better, she better go better herself. Besides, Larry wasn't worth her time.
So she kept still.
Think happy thoughts. She was a caribou, a deer, and deer are supposed to frolic about in bright sunny fields. Happy thoughts meant no nightmares either, and no nightmares meant no Zordrak.
Yes, she had been seeing Zordrak again in her dreams, with his glowing eyes, his bubbling arm, his ridiculous mocking. She was no psychologist, but she knew that Zordrak had to represent some repressed part of her psyche. Was it because her father raped her or mother was a drunk? No, Claudia remembered them being cool. Or perhaps it was because she just wanted adventure and excitement because life was dull. That was a problem with her mind that needed to be fixed.
At least she admitted she had a problem. Better than most people here.
There she sat for an hour in thought – not deep thought – and though she looked at the entrance several times, no-one else came in. Just then, Marlon left his post and approached her. 'You okay?'
'I'm fine,' said Claudia, before giving Marlon a pound, 'There. That's your Valentines present. Now I'm offski.' So out she went, and the breeze had gotten worse. She braved the cold winds once more, even though she had forgotten to retrieve her scarf.
Why did she come there?
Fantasies. Fantasies of igniting chaos due to her good looks, fantasies of actually meeting the man of her dreams. Fantasies couldn't happen, fantasies were airy and insubstantial and worthless. Fantasies were for kids. She couldn't be a kid. She kept telling people to grow up, after all, and she couldn't very well be a hypocrite.
Then perhaps she shouldn't have tried to be happy then. Kids are happy. Adults are miserable. Fact of life.
Soon enough, Claudia had reached her flat, which seemed quieter than usual as she entered. There weren't even any bedsprings to be heard. As soon as she reached her bedroom – the dark and dismal yet secretive place – Claudia wondered if she should embrace this silence. No yelling, no stumbling, there weren't even any sirens outside. It was new, and new things must be savoured before they stop becoming new.
Clicking on the light, giving her bedroom the same ugly yellow as the streets outside, Claudia looked about for her books. The ones she bunged into a bag at the charity shop which she paid a fiver for. Were there any trashy romance ones?
She pulled out one at random. Gulliver's Travels, complete with a badly-drawn Gulliver restrained on the front cover. No. Oceans of Swugh, a cheap sci-fi novel with what looked like a pink cow. No.
Wait a minute...
Was that her on that cover there?
Reaching further into the bag, Claudia shook her head violently. She usually did see odd things out of the corner of her eye, only to have them transform into something more mundane after a second or two. Yet, even though she was sure her head was clear and her brain was working – God bless Guinness – she certainly did see herself on the cover. Or at least, something that resembled herself. It was an anthropomorphic caribou just like her, but it did not have her faded jeans or her dirty trenchcoat. It bore a soft blue dress that sparkled under the light of an elegant candelabra, as well as bright, wide eyes.
'Clauderella', the book was called.
While she did chortle a bit at the stupid pun, Claudia's fingers still trembled as she held the book up to her face. Her mind told her not to open the book, yet her fingers did so anyway, revealing the tale told within.
The first page:
'Parody Productions Present'
'Clauderella'
'With Kate Robbins as Claudia'
'Who the hell is Kate Robbins?' were the first words that Claudia said out loud regarding the book. Looking closer at the words, she tried to ease the tingling in her stomach by pointing out the fact that the book had opening credits. There was even a composer listed. Then she thought about what if they made books that played music as you read them. Her mind did not have much chance to wander, however, as her eyes were drawn back to the book.
As our story begins, we see a run-down old cottage in the middle of a forest. Then we enter the cottage and we see a figure hard at work and we feel sorry for her as we read this story. She is a tall caribou with light brown fur, bags under her eyes, yellow antlers, a cream muzzle, red lipstick, two eyes, two ears, fingers and a brain inside her head. Her name is Claudia, and she is poor.
'Oh I am so sad,' she says as she washed the floor, 'My evil stepsisters make me do work!' She is sad because her evil stepsisters make her do work!
Then the camera swerves around and we see a door opening. In came two figures. One of them is a green witch with a flowerpot on her head, green skin, red curly hair, a pointed nose, teeth, two arms and two legs, pores, ears, wax in those ears...
The same hand that forced Claudia to read this then chucked it away into the corner. Suddenly, she was reminded of her many attempts to write a novel, and how she told herself that if she got published, she would avoid reading reviews and fanfiction of her work. Abe was an avid writer of fanfiction, and his work all stunk to high heaven. In fact, his work wasn't too different from what was in that book.
What would she do with it, anyway? Would she show it to Marlon and the other fellows at the pub? No, they'd do nothing but have a good laugh at how she had become a victim of domestic abuse.
Perhaps she'd just forget it then. That's what politicians did after all, forget their problems in hopes they'd go away. She'd go to sleep and it would disappear by the time she woke up.
How could she sleep though? Her body felt no weariness; in fact, she felt like she could run a marathon. Her fingers twitched, her body twisted, even her antlers seemed to move. The windows were closed, and the flat still smelled of sweat, yet she shuddered as much as she did when she was outside.
She tried to avert her eyes from the book in the corner and stared at the clock. It was almost midnight. Almost Valentine's Day. Wasn't it nine when she left for the pub though?
Her fingers twitched to pick up the book, then flexed away as they tried to reach it. Twitching, pulling back. Twitching, pulling back. Slowly, Claudia lost all control of her body, and she was fixed in this repetitive motion, as if her mind was trapped in a clockwork toy.
The clock struck midnight.
She grabbed the book.
All of a sudden, her flat began to melt away. The mould-stained walls began to drip into nothingness, leaving behind only Claudia and the book that bore her name. While Claudia didn't read the book at that moment, she swore she heard the prose echo in her head.
Claudia is now in the carriage that was once a pumpkin. She is going to the ball! All her dreams are going to come true!
Sure enough, Claudia in a second, found herself sitting in a carriage as silver as the moon, donning that dress that other her had on the cover. Her tangled fur had suddenly been combed, her hands were draped with long white gloves, and of course, her hooves now bore the customary glass slippers. She wanted to say 'What the fuck' or something to that effect, but she couldn't move her lips. Her body moved, but not of its own accord. When the carriage stopped in front of the gleaming castle, she stepped out, and showed off her new dress to the various people outside, but her mind kept screaming to run away, to escape.
She was still forced into the ballroom, where various couples of various species twirled around, all to the sound of music that – Claudia steps into the ballroom and was amazed. There was lots of dancing! She had never seen such wonder before!
She walks about the ballroom some more until she approaches another caribou. He is a male who has a muscular figure and a firm stare. His antlers are big and wide, his fur is neatly groomed, and he wears a tuxedo. His name is Carl, and he's a prince, a rocket scientist and a supermodel.
'Hello,' says Carl as Claudia giggled, 'I am Prince Carl.'
'Surely you're kidding.'
'I'm serious,' said Carl, flashing his white smile. 'And don't call me Shirley.' (Reference to Airplane)
Claudia chuckles. Who the hell is this man, she asked herself. Get the hell out of there. This is the man of her dreams! He then puts his arm around her and they begun to dancing. Get out of there, get out of there! They twirl around the ballroom along with the other animals while a song is played.
Claudia still couldn't control her body. It had gone numb, and she was nothing but a brain put in some robot. This new body, however, didn't feel as hollow as 'Carl'. She was in his hands, but she felt no pulse, no life from this being. His eyes looked like glass.
She couldn't stop herself from spinning around the ballroom, with its bleached walls, its black-and-white floor and its toys spinning around. Her feet moved without her telling them to, her hands stayed where they were.
When Carl lowered his head to kiss her, she neared him.
The clock struck midnight.
Suddenly, Claudia found herself in control of her fingers again, and she would have pushed Carl away, but he had disappeared, as had the ballroom. Yes, there was nothing around her except for a black sky and a grey, rocky ground. Claudia was still in the dress she wore in that other world, still in those uncomfortable glass slippers. Weren't they fur in the original story? She remembered hearing that somewhere.
Tottering around this place, her ears caught the sound of a typewriter clacking away, which was then followed by voices.
'What's gonna happen now, Sarge?'
'You know what's going to happen, Nug! She goes back home, but then the glass slipper is fitting 'er and they all live 'appily ever after!'
'Why'd you stop then?'
Turning around, Claudia saw a trio of ogres in armour, huddled around a typewriter. 'Because I has writer's cramp, you ninny!' said the fattest one.
'Hey!' yelled Claudia, arousing the ogre's attention. 'What is all this?'
The fat ogre smiled slyly. 'Ah. Youse has been chosen for a little experiment.'
Claudia folded her arms and sighed, right before the ground began to shake.
'Steady on men! His Lordship is 'ere!'
As the ogres fled the scene, their typewriter toppling over, Claudia began to smell hot coals. Oh, guess who's going to appear then.
Yep. Zordrak. The big purple dragon with his skeletal arm, his other, bubbling arm, his huge white eyes. The ground quaked all the more as he rose, and his presence brought a red glow to the black void. As he fully rose, he screamed in pain at the bubbling on his one arm, but then swiftly turned to Claudia.
'Okay,' Claudia sighed. 'What is it this time?'
Zordrak laughed. 'Oh, Claudia. Thanks to your sardonic sarcasm, I have realised how foolish I was to keep torturing you with my nightmares. Now I'm giving you sweet dreams. It is Valentine's Day, after all.'
'Sorry, dragon breath,' said Claudia, smiling, 'A "sweet dream" is me by myself with a six-pack of Carlings and a marathon of QI.'
'You didn't like Carl then.'
'No,' said Claudia, with a nod, 'I prefer my significant others to be real, thank you very much.'
'You still don't think I don't know your mind,' snarled Zordrak, his hands forming a pyramid. 'You may mock people for having their fantasies, but you are quite...imaginative yourself. You have your little daydreams, and I'm bringing them to life.'
'You think I wanted to dance with some prat in some Disney cartoon.'
'You want a reprieve from your dull and boring life,' snickered Zordrak, stroking his squirming chin. 'You want to be a queen and live in a sparkling palace, just like that annoying girl you see sometimes in your flat. Don't act like you don't.'
Claudia opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Zordrak faded away, and right after he did, a purple pony stood at Claudia's feet, wearing a dress similar to hers. 'Oh great,' grumbled Claudia to herself. That figure looked like one of those stupid girls' toys from Poundland, and there was a horse at the pub who complained about them.
'Um, hello?' said the pony. 'Who are you?'
'Claudia.'
'I'm Twilight Sparkle,' replied the pony, 'and could you tell me what is going on? I mean, I've been put in this weird place with no control over my...'
In an instant, Twilight disappeared, and Zordrak made his return. 'She isn't really a pony though. She just likes to think she's one to help her get through life. Her real name is Tara Muschel, and she's another participant in my experiment. She created a whole imaginary world of ponies to live in to escape the abuse she faced, but even the world she created was imperfect. Even her fantasy self had flaws.'
'And your point is?'
'She really lives in a world where there are no talking animals at all. One exists, you know.' Claudia briefly shuddered, but Zordrak still came closer, allowing Claudia a better smell of his breath. 'Just think. You might not be a caribou at all. You might be a human in some institution dreaming of a better life. And if that is the case, then you are really terrible at escapist fantasies.'
'You know what,' said Claudia. 'Why don't you go bother Abe? He's the one with his head in the clouds. Make him Superman or Batman or something. I don't want to be bloody Cinderella.'
'Oh come now, my dear,' came a certain toff voice from behind her. There stood Carl, still wearing his tuxedo, holding a bottle of wine in one hand. 'Are you not satisfied?'
'No, I bloody well am...' Just before Claudia could say the next word, she was reduced to just a brain again. She took the wine and had a glass, all without meaning to. All she could do was watch as her body fell into the arms of Carl, and they began another dance. She was forced to do things she didn't want to do, and was forced to feel things she didn't want to feel.
She felt happiness.
At least that's what it seemed like. It was like the sense of superiority she got from delivering a good put-down, only magnified. It was like her stomach seemed to disappear, replaced by a rising light of some kind. The smile on her face didn't hurt. Her mind began to clear.
There was still a little voice telling her to run, still that impulse to find a way to regain control, but it was drowned out by the rise. Carl's hands no longer felt cold and soulless, they felt warm and comfortable. They danced slower, with the silver ballroom reappearing...we see Claudia and Carl dancing around the ballroom again but they were all by themselves this time as romantic music is playing...
She heard a laugh.
Indeed, a small little chortle from the corner of the ballroom, as well as another guffaw. And then what sounded like a cough, and then some fumbling. Claudia's mind clicked back again, and her stomach plummeted. However, she was still a brain, and could not move her hands away from those of Carl.
The ballroom did not completely disappear, yet Claudia could still see more of those ogres. Their appearance did not frighten her – they looked more or less like exaggerated humans – but she felt her stomach plummet further as she saw them seated, watching her, munching away on their popcorn.
Her face then turned to meet Carl, and the rise began again. That image of the entertained ogres tried to escape from Claudia's mind, making way for a host of other images. In Claudia's mind, she saw herself in a wedding dress, going down the aisle to meet Carl.
But what about the ogres?
As Claudia dancing, she thinks about marrying Carl and we see her in a white church...
But what about Zordrak? You can't let him win.
She was wear a white dress and is walking down a church was also white, and there is Carl dressed in grey. Claudia hold...
Think about Zordrak. Think about something else...
'Dearly beloved,' says the vicar in Claudia's dreams as the caribou smiled. Then Claudia imagines her and Carl settling down in a nice house and we see them cuddling up together on the couch. Then we are brought back to reality as they dance and they are about to...
Think of Larry.
Claudia punched Carl in the face.
She leapt up, and punched him right between the eyes, as she imagined the dopey canine face of Larry. That's all he was, a glorified Larry. Or perhaps that judgement was more true for Zordrak. As Carl vanished away along with the ballroom, Claudia appeared on a stage, with the audience made up of those ogres. They applauded.
'Bravo!' Claudia heard. 'More!'
Part of Claudia wanted to respond by doing to them what she just did to Carl, but, having regained control of her body and mind, she walked away. As she went 'backstage' she found herself back on that grey rock, where Zordrak was waiting for her.
'You like being the way you are, don't you?' Zordrak said, still smiling. 'You like being a bitch. So I thought if you weren't yourself, unable to make your little quips and remarks, you would be terrified.'
'Oh, shut up.'
The pub was empty on Valentine's Day evening. Always was. Everybody was enjoying a romantic meal out or lying with their spouses under the stars in some grassy field. Occasionally there'd be some lonely guy coming in to drown his sorrows about being unlucky, but they were never much for conversation. There was one dog in the corner, but he seemed almost like a decoration.
And then there was Claudia.
'I'll have a pint of Guinness,' was the first thing she said, and Marlon complied.
'It's Valentine's Day,' said Marlon, 'Shouldn't you be off with someone?'
'Nah,' replied Claudia.