"My, you're up early, Jillian," Mom began approvingly, but then her dark eyebrows quirked. "Did you get dressed in the bathroom?"

Jillian tucked her purple nightshirt under one arm and quickly sidestepped her mother. "Just saving myself time," she lied.

"Well, you have plenty of time for a good breakfast for once, sleepy-head," her mother teased, patting Jillian's black head as she passed.

Jillian hurried back into her bedroom and stuffed her nightshirt into the top drawer - and forced herself not to look at the cross-legged figure on her bed. Instead she concentrated her attention on the tired green eyes staring back at her in the mirror. She had actually woken up that morning hoping she had only dreamed of last night - but then she had rolled over, only to spot the dummy sitting next to Petey's tank with that perpetual smile on his wooden face.

This is actually happening, she thought as she ran a comb through her long hair. Then, even though her body felt funny from the lack of sleep, a smile began to form. This was actually happening. Payback was finally in her grasp. She was really going to do it this time - and Slappy had promised multiple pranks, all in exchange for just one little favor. She would not only make Katie and Amanda regret ever messing with Petey, but she also would be able to make up for all those tricks the twins had pulled in the past, like doodling clown-eating monsters in her notebooks, setting up Halloween masks in her closet, and using Slappy to scare her in the middle of the night. If she could finally taste that delicious revenge, it would actually be worth it to put up with the creepy, little dummy.

It was then that she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she turned to see Slappy's fixated gaze.

Again. "Will you stop looking at me?" she snapped.

"Why?" he sneered. "Everything else in this room is an eyesore."

She pulled her straight hair into a half-up ponytail and combed the free area. "Says the puppet wearing a tablecloth."

His cold eyes flashed. "Well, I can't expect you to appreciate good taste, little girl," he sniffed, flicking his checkered lapels with all the injured dignity of a dandy. "What's with all the circus pictures anyway?" he asked, gesturing to the souvenirs above her bed.

Jillian gave a sigh. "I get a poster when the circus comes every year," she explained. Well, except for this past year, when the twins had disappeared. It had been the first time Mom and Dad had trusted her to take the twins anywhere by herself, and they had gotten through the entire performance with little incident - and then as they had joined the exiting masses, she had turned around, and they had vanished. She had frantically searched for them, scared that they might have been hurt or lost as she called for them, tore through the concession stands, flagged down the clean-up crew who were ready to call the police to come search - only for them to have been hiding behind the bleachers the whole time, giggling at her panic attack. "I'm gonna be a clown when I grow up," she added, shaking off the memory.

He snorted. "Really, kid, you're too young to throw your life away."

"Ha-ha. Remind me to laugh." Even the dummy heckled her. She shrugged her backpack onto her shoulders. "For your information, I already have two birthday parties lined up, this weekend and next."

"Probably because you're cheaper than buying all those kids sedatives," he cracked.

Jillian shot him a glare. "You haven't even seen me in action, Bozo."

"Well, if your act is anything like your comebacks, those kids will be bored to tears," he sneered and threw his head back with a shrill laugh.

Jillian winced at the sound, resisting the urge to cover her ears. There was no way she would ever get used to that, and she wondered again how Jimmy had put up with him without earplugs. At least she could go down to breakfast and leave him in here. All day.

She turned away from her mirror and started for the door - but then she gave a reluctant sigh and stepped over to her desk. She grabbed a few books from the shelf on the wall above and laid them out on the bed. "If you get bored while I'm at school, you can read these," she offered. "You know, if you like any of them."

He took one look at the titles and made a face. "Animorphs, Bunnicula, Shivers," he read aloud. "Move over, Shakespeare! All we're missing is a Nancy Drew mystery and Little House on the Prairie."

Jillian folded her arms. "Well, you can always go down the hall to the twins' room and see if Mary-Ellen will let you watch T.V. with her," she shot back. "I am trying to be nice to you, you know."

His ugly face darkened, and for a moment, Jillian remembered Jimmy O'James on the stage of the Little Theater, his face breaking out into sweat as the dummy on his lap began to hurl insult after insult at him. Slappy opened his mouth - but promptly seemed to think better of it and settled back against her headboard. "And for that, I'm choosing to let the tablecloth crack slide, doll face," he growled, folding his arms. "This once."

She pressed her palms together and bowed her head. "Thank you, sahib," she cracked, even as her heart pounded. She was about to leave him to his boredom, but he looked so disgusted as he picked up one paperback with two fingers that, in spite of her anger - and the knot in her stomach - Jillian could not help feeling a little sorry for him. In any case, it served her best interest to keep him occupied. "Look," she said slowly, "if you tell me what books you like, maybe I can pick something up from the library on the way home."

"I don't think they'll let kids walk out with those kinda books." Suddenly, he brightened, a wicked grin forming. "Leave me a phone book, and I might make some calls," he suggested, casting a gleeful glance at her telephone.

Fat chance. Jillian gave him a look. "You're not planning to ask people if they have Prince Albert in a can, are you?"

He snorted. "Please, I'm a professional," he declared.

However, since a lengthy discussion with her father after he took a look at next month's phone bill was about as appealing as dental surgery, Jillian decided it was best to change the subject. She sat down beside him, causing his little body to bounce. "Speaking of pranks, what are we gonna do about my sisters and Mary-Ellen?"

He gave her a smug smile. "I'm already twelve steps ahead of you, sister. I could send the kiddies to the funny farm right now if I chose, but we'll take it slow. Let you savor that sweet taste of revenge."

That was the first thing he had said all morning that made her grin. "What did you have in mind?" she asked eagerly.

"Take me downstairs."

Jillian stopped short. "Wait, now?" she protested. "I have to go to school soon."

"No time like the present," he chirped, climbing to his feet. "Besides, if I really want to prank your sisters, I gotta get a feel for how they think without Mary-Ellen catching on to our little secret." Living dolls were very territorial of their humans, or so he had told her, and if Mary-Ellen knew Slappy was awake, she might try to do something about it. "She's still in the closet, right?"

Jillian shuddered, gripping her backpack straps. "Ought to be." A territorial doll who had been alive for months in her house. A leering dummy who was helping her plot revenge against the doll.

There would be no way she would ever be able to watch Toy Story again after this.

Slappy held up his arms, beckoning her towards him with snapping fingers. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! I can't exactly walk down the stairs with you, can I?"

She choked back a gag and got to her feet. He stepped into her arms, and she put one hand around his skinny waist and used the other to support his knees, holding his cold, stiff body in an awkward bridal carry. She tried to pretend he was just her little brother; he was almost the size of the twins anyway. Maybe she could imagine that he had been separated from them at birth, and he had some disease that made it necessary for her to carry him around. Then there would be nothing creepy about this arrangement in the slightest, nope, nope, nope.

"Careful with the merchandise, doll face," he said with a chuckle, obviously amused by her discomfort as he slipped an arm around her neck - which was really not necessary, now that she thought of it.

She firmly grabbed his arm and tucked it over his chest. "Make it look natural," she told him sweetly.

He only smirked.


Mom was still helping the twins get ready, and Dad was printing out papers for work from the computer in the bedroom, so they had the kitchen to themselves. Jillian quickly set the wooden puppet on the counter and dumped her backpack on a chair. "So, what now?"

"Fix yourself breakfast and wait for them to come downstairs," he instructed.

She quirked an eyebrow. "What are we going to do?"

His ugly grin widened. "You'll see-e-e-e," he sang.

She hunted down a bowl and spoon for her Frosted Flakes and retrieved the milk. She glanced again at Slappy to make sure he was not following her with his gaze, but now he seemed interested in the photographs Mom had posted on the side of the fridge, particularly the Zinman-family Christmas cards from last year. She began to pour - and suddenly a new idea struck her. The twins were always bringing Mary-Ellen to the dinner table, claiming she liked the taste of Mom's cooking, and they had even made Jillian buy a chocolate-vanilla swirl cone from Dairy Queen for her the other day. Jillian had always thought that it had just been another way for them to torment her, since they knew how much she detested that doll, but could Mary-Ellen really eat? Jillian had never seen her heart-shaped lips move, but, even if Mary-Ellen did sneak a taste, did that mean she had a stomach? Could Slappy eat too, even though his insides were hollow?

She turned to him, holding up the box. "You want some?"

He turned his head and crinkled his nose. "Be still my beating taste buds."

"Have it your way," she returned with a scornful sniff. Why was she even bothering to be nice to him?

She leaned back against the counter, deliberately focusing on her cereal. She supposed she ought to carry him to the table, but she was not ready to pick him up again just yet. In any case, he did not seem ready to pull whatever plan he had up his sleeve, so there was no real need to move him.

Jillian stirred the cereal, sending the now soggy flakes spinning, and glanced at the kitchen clock. Mom was right. She actually had time to relax a little before she had to grab her bike for school - and she was actually going to put that time to good use. Meanwhile, one question - well, one in particular - still bothered her.

"Hey, Slappy?" she asked slowly.

"Yes, doll?"

"How did Mary-Ellen come to life?"

He had not told her much the night before, just that he found it incriminating that the bulk of her problems had begun after a specific doll had arrived. Apparently, he had encountered this sort of thing in the past and could spot the signs. "I don't believe in coincidences, kid," he had declared - but had infuriatingly refused to answer any more of her questions, sweetly insisting she get some sleep.

Now, he gave a disinterested shrug. "It depends on who made her," he drawled, "and what type of magic they used. Some dolls need a rarely used word to be woken up. Others need a full moon in autumn with the stars aligned precisely. I once knew a Jack-in-the-box who came to life if anyone whistled 'Pop Goes the Weasle' and went to sleep when they sang 'Auld Lang Syne'." He shook his head. "Guy could never attend a New Year's Eve party."

She leaned on her arm, mulling that over. She had never believed in magic, but, then, she had never believed in talking dolls - at least, not since she was three. If what he was saying were true, that could mean just about anything could be alive, and one would never know it. Some toys might even be trapped in slumber while others just sat in their corners, watching their owners. She shivered. "What about you?"

"What about me?" he asked sweetly.

She met his round eyes. "You never told me how you woke up in my bedroom."

He laid a hand over his heart - well, no, not a heart: just his chest. "Oh, Jillian, don't you know?" He tapped his jacket, and that was when she saw he was pointing to the pocket where she had found the aging piece of paper. "Karru marri odonna loma molonu karrano," he said, his hoarse voice pronouncing each word with its proper accent.

She tried to suppress the icy feeling that shot through her. "What does that mean?"

His painted smile widened. "Do you really want to know?"

"Not that much," she said quickly, causing him to giggle. She gave him a sweeping glance again. "It sounds pretty rough that you can't be awake all the time. Why did your creator make you need the card in the first place?"

His raspy voice grew harsher: "Magic demands a price."

She wanted to ask him what he meant, but a shadow had crossed his face, turning his round eyes cold. She went back to her cereal. "So, why didn't the girls tell me about Mary-Ellen?" she asked softly. "They had a talking doll for months, but they couldn't let me in on the secret?"

He gave her a condescending look. "Probably because Mary-Ellen told them not to, dum-dum. Why?" he demanded. "You're not going to tell them about me, are you?"

She shook her head. "It's just… things changed after she got here." Her teeth gritted. "Sometimes, they'll outright ignore me and just talk to Mary-Ellen, even when something important is happening. It's like they think she's their long-lost triplet, and I'm not even in the family anymore."

Slappy shrugged. "Maybe they don't care about you that much."

"Maybe not," she agreed bitterly, sending the crispy-thin flakes swirling in a violent vortex. "They sneaked into my room to give me a haircut while I was sleeping. I didn't believe them when they said it was Mary-Ellen's idea, but I'm not really that surprised that the ugly thing is out to get me."

"She's just jealous," he snorted. "With a mug like hers, she probably turns green over Dracula's good looks."

Despite her glum mood, a snicker erupted - the first time he had actually made her laugh. "You're really not so bad, are you?" she joked - well, half-joked.

A grin appeared on his carved face. "Oh, I'm devilishly bad," he returned, eyes glittering, "but sometimes I like to help cute girls on the weekends."

Jillian averted her gaze - and it was then that the pounding of little feet exploded from the floor above them.

Slappy latched onto her arm. "Okay, Jillian, this has to look convincing," he hissed. "Put your hand in my back, and sit at the table. When the time's right, point me at them."

Jillian felt the color drain from her face. "No way," she breathed, taking a step back. Carrying him around was bad enough, but putting her hand into his hollow body? That was just sick.

His eyes flashed dangerously as he yanked her closer. "Don't chicken out on me now!"

The noise was growing louder. She steeled herself and slipped her bruised fingers through the hole in his back. She felt him shudder. She made a fist - careful not to touch any of his interior surfaces - scooped him up, and carried both him and her breakfast to the kitchen table. She took a deep breath and held it, trying to make herself look calm even though she felt close to puking all over the kitchen floor.

"Hey, Jillian?" he suddenly whispered as the footsteps of the two six-year-olds began to clop down the stairs.

She slowly exhaled. "Yeah?"

"If you got all the looks in the family, which one of them got the brains?" he snickered into her shoulder.

She shot him a dirty look. "Shut up." How was it that, even when he gave out compliments, he could still manage to insult her?


The twins exploded into the room. People described them as miniature versions of Jillian to the point that Dad joked that he and Mom had started a collection. They were both the tallest girls in their class, just like Jillian, and had the same round green eyes and straight black hair, though Katie always wore hers in a ponytail, and Amanda allowed hers to hang around her shoulders. They were talking loudly together about how they would transport the entire amount of their extensive beanbag-doll collection to school for Show-and-Tell, but the two suddenly stopped in their tracks when they caught sight of Slappy.

"What's he doing down here?" Katie demanded. She was the twin with the squeaky voice.

"Nunya," Jillian returned and forced herself to shovel in a spoonful of cereal - a little awkward since her dominant hand was inside of the dummy.

"But you don't like Slappy," Amanda insisted.

"What are you talking about? We're best friends," she replied briskly and gave him a light pat on the head. "See? I can pretend my toys are alive too."

The girls moved closer until they were standing over the dummy. "You said you never wanted to be a dumb ventriloquist," Amanda reminded her. "You just want to be a stupid clown."

"Well, Harrison thinks it's a good idea," Jillian said. It was partly true anyway. The twins exchanged a glance, their little faces cast in shadows, but Jillian found herself smirking. You guys can't scare me by trying to make me think he's alive anymore. I KNOW he's alive, and he's on MY side. "Maybe you guys and Mary-Ellen would like to watch the routine we're working on," she could not resist gloating.

Katie glowered. "Mary-Ellen's still in the closet," she said hotly.

Serves her right, she thought. From what Slappy had told her, she would not be surprised if that horrid doll had helped them grab Petey.

"Mary-Ellen's not happy with you," Amanda said seriously. "She doesn't like that you have Slappy while she's stuck in the closet."

"She says you're gonna be sorry," Katie chorused.

Her hold on Slappy tightened without her meaning to. "I don't care what Mary-Ellen thinks," she sniffed. "Now, eat your breakfast - or Slappy's gonna get you!" She shoved Slappy forward, aiming his mouth at Amanda. The wooden jaws widened and then...

The dummy did nothing.

Huh?

Katie made a face. "We're not afraid of Slappy. He can't do anything to us."

"Mary-Ellen would turn him into sawdust if he tried anything," Amanda added.

"Well, eat your breakfast anyway," Jillian retorted and turned Slappy to face her. His wooden countenance remained frozen in a crooked grin. What's the deal? she mouthed, glaring.

For a long moment, his face was still - and then his eyes slowly began to close until he gave her a half-lidded look. In a flash he was normal again, but the message was clear. Make it count, kid.

The twins poured themselves two bowls of cereal and brought their breakfast over to the table. Amanda sat on Jillian's left, and Katie sat beside her.

"He's pretty ugly," Katie said, sneering around Amanda at the dummy's busted-up face. "Like your lizard."

"This from the kid who digs for worms in the backyard," Jillian muttered. Katie was the more outgoing of the twins; a tomboy through and through, she liked to pick up worms when she found them and used them to chase Amanda and the girls at school, pretending she wanted to put them in their hair.

"Worms are cool," Katie replied, sticking out her tongue. "Lizards are gross."

"Worms and lizards are both gross," Amanda shuddered. "I wish we could get a cat."

"Mom says no more pets until Petey's gone," Katie reminded her, slapping her cereal impatiently with her spoon, causing milk to splatter.

Jillian spun around in her seat, feeling her insides boil. "Is that why you guys tried to hurt him yesterday?" she demanded. How could they sink that low?

Both of them glared. "We didn't do it!"

"We never touched your lizard - or that ugly dummy!"

She felt the puppet tremble, and she looked down to see Slappy's eyes flash.

"Let's talk about something else," Jillian heard her own voice say quickly as she turned him away. "How's your beanbag-doll collection coming? Do you guys have enough in your piggy banks to buy a new one?"

The two angry faces melted away into indifference. "Mary-Ellen says we have too many," Katie said with a shrug.

"So?" Jillian countered.

However, the two girls did not reply, scooping bites of cereal and smacking their lips obnoxiously. Jillian looked away in disgust. Even when the doll was not around, they still ignored her. Jillian returned to her own breakfast, but just as she put a spoonful in her mouth, she felt the dummy shake again, and she looked down. His red smile was frozen in place, but his eyebrows had arched down, narrowing his cold eyes and setting them ablaze. His jaw twitched. He looked like a tea kettle about to explode. She suddenly had the urge to yank her hand out and heave him across the room.

"Mary-Ellen thinks Slappy should stay in our room," Katie suddenly said, cutting into her thoughts.

Jillian swallowed a lump of cereal without chewing. "No way!" she choked, pounding her chest.

"Mary-Ellen likes Slappy," Amanda insisted, "and she says you're too ugly to play with him."

"Likes" Slappy? "Slappy told Mary-Ellen she needed a flea collar," she said with a firm shake of her head. "Who's the ugly one?"

"You are!" they cried and broke into wicked giggles.

Jillian glowered. As much as she hated the idea of sharing a room with the creepy thing on her lap, she was not about to leave him to contend with Mary-Ellen either. "He belongs to Harrison, and Harrison is my friend, so he's staying with me."

"But you hate Slappy," Amanda returned.

Jillian cringed. "No, I don't. He's grown on me," she said. "I… like him. Honest." She pat his arm awkwardly. "Best buddies, him and me. Yep."

"If you like him so much, why don't you marry him?" Katie teased.

Jillian felt her stomach drop. "Shut up," she retorted, doing her best not to look down.

Amanda suddenly squealed. "Your face is red!" she gasped.

"Shut up, you little twerp," she glowered.

The girls burst into giggles. Her fists trembled, causing the little body on her lap to shake, and she felt Slappy's head roll to the side. Her eyes shot down before she could stop herself, and she met his glittering blue gaze. He seemed to be laughing at her right along with the twins.

It was too much. "Knock it off!" she growled and jumped to her feet, turning over her chair as she swung the dummy up, aiming him right at the two.

Slappy's jaw stretched wide. A gurgling sounded in his belly - no, wait, her hand was still inside him! - and in seconds it grew and grew, louder and louder, like water boiling in a kettle until it was a full roar. The twins stared in shock, their little faces frozen, and for a brief moment Jillian had the sudden urge to pull Slappy back - and then, suddenly, something green shot out of his mouth, right onto Amanda.


"A walking, talking dummy who is the world's best prankster, and the best you could come up with was FROGS?" Jillian demanded, turning Slappy in her arms to face her as soon as her bedroom door slammed shut.

"Hey, a lot worse could have come out my mouth, sweetheart," he sniffed. "I just decided not to leave you with the clean-up job since you've been so nice today. I told you you'd get lucky."

Jillian glowered at him. "Where did you even get that thing?" she challenged. When did he even get that thing?

"Had it in my throat," he snickered. "Really, Jillian, is that what it takes to stump you? What happens when someone dangles keys in front of your face?"

She set him down on his feet, a little rougher than she intended. "I could have done frogs," she snapped.

"So, why didn't you?" he retorted, straightening his frayed jacket. "Look, if you had the brains for this, kid, those brats wouldn't be pushing you around all the time, and I wouldn't have little reptiles shoved into me in my sleep."

Jillian plopped down on the bed. "I didn't think you'd get me in trouble!" she cried.

"Well, then you should have been more specific!" he shot back, throwing up his hands. "If you went with your brilliant idea of tying their shoelaces together, don't you think your mother would have found out about that too?"

Jillian grimaced. He had a point, but she was not ready to admit it. In any case Mom had been livid. "I know you're upset about Petey," she had scolded her after she had managed to calm Amanda down, "but putting a wild animal inside Slappy is just as bad, Jillian Louise Zinman!"

On top of all that, the twins would be allowed to get Mary-Ellen back when they got home from school.

Jillian exhaled through her teeth. "You know, if they had thrown a frog at me, and I started screaming my head off, Mom would have just told me I was overreacting."

"Grown-ups always favor little kids," he shrugged, hefting his skinny body onto the bed beside her. "Lucky for you, I'm not a grown-up."

She shook her head. "You could've warned me though."

"And spoil the game?" he cried, laying his hands over his chest with mock outrage. "I had to know you were committed to this, darlin'. You should be proud of yourself. Petey definitely would be." He folded his arms with a smug smirk. "Jillian, can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you didn't have even a little bit of fun?"

Jillian hesitated. Tossing frogs was about as clever as Katie tossing worms, and it did not really feel nasty enough. It certainly did not come anywhere close to avenging Petey. She felt as if she was in the same position yesterday afternoon, pacing her room for the perfect revenge but coming up dry.

...But Amanda did hate anything slimy. And even though Jillian had gotten in trouble, it was still the first successful prank she had managed to pull in a long while. Then an image flashed in her mind - a picture of Amanda, little green eyes wide as saucers, her mouth hanging wide like a cartoon character - and a giggle burst from her.

She covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking. "Di-Did you see the way sh-she screamed?" she gasped.

His ugly grin widened. "Thought so."

Her entire body rocked until she collapsed on her side. Slappy chortled with her, and for once she did not mind the sound of his shrill laughter. "What's next, partner?" she asked when she managed to calm herself enough.

He grinned. "Oh, I got a few ideas," he said, leaning back against her pillow and flipping open a book. "You'll see how much fun we can have when you get home."

Oh, yeah. School. She got to her feet, but then she stopped. "Where did you get the frog anyway?"

He grinned. "Can you keep a secret?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, don't tell me," she exhaled. She then had an image of him wandering through her house at night. While she slept.

She turned to the glass tank and scooped the docile reptile into her arms. "Be a good boy, Petey. No wild parties," she warned the lizard, shaking a stern finger at his content face before she planted a kiss on his scaly forehead.

She was about to put him back in when she felt eyes on her, and she turned her head to see Slappy staring at her, his crooked grin wide. She held the lizard a little closer. "What?"

"Don't I get one?" he teased.

Her stomach promptly churned. "No way, your face is broken," she said dismissively.

A wooden hand came up to tap the chipped lip. "Well, you could always take me down to your dad's workshop. I could probably fix myself up in two ticks."

She really did not like where this joke seemed to be headed, so she raised Petey higher on her shoulder, making him nod his head like a puppet. "Jillian doesn't want to kiss you, Slappy," she had the lizard say in a high-pitched voice. "She doesn't like termites. But I do! Yum, yum, yum!"

The dummy glowered and turned away, flipping the pages of the book with his thumb. "I saw your lips move," he sniffed.


A/N: Thanks for reading! Advice is appreciated. :)