Monday, October 31st: Halloween
Before the start of first period at Polyneux Middle School, he three boys, mid conversation, turned away from their lockers at the sound of familiar hydraulic joints, Socks gasping.
Their short robot friend's eyelids were painted black, with a smudge over the top to create the illusion of a unibrow. Over his lightbulb was a rectangular black fabric cover that wrapped around his head like a fake hairline. And among the oddities, he was wearing clothes, something he rarely ever did-a beat up black jacket and pants, to be exact.
"... rah." was all he had to say, pincers pointed upward in a very non-threatening threatening way.
Then silence.
"Dude, is that homemade?" asked Socks with a snicker.
"I like it," Cubey blurted.
"Dig," quickly said Mitch.
Robot slid into the seat next to Socks. "Nice costume, Robot," his best friend nodded. "Not bad for a first timer."
"Thanks. I created the pattern from a periodical," Robot told him. "I guess I found a use for Home Ec. after all."
"So we're agreed, then?" Socks asked the group. "We'll meet a Robot's house at 6:30—his neighborhood has that one house on the corner on the end that I think used to give out king size candy bars. That'll give us two and a half hours—plenty of time to trick or treat before we swing by Roger's place for the rest of the party."
"Sounds good to me," Cubey said. "Mitch and I are sneaking over to the drugstore during lunch to grab our costumes."
"Sorry you guys didn't think ahead like me," Socks grinned. "I've been planning my costume for months in advance."
"What costume would take that long?" asked Robot.
"For the last time since September, I said 'no', Socks!" Shannon said slamming her locker.
It was later that day in the hallways when Socks approached Shannon with his proposal. "Come on, if I don't have someone dress up as the queen and stand beside me, my zombie-mummy costume is going to look ridiculous!"
"Well, that's too bad," she crossed her arms over her chest, "because I'm not going walking around the neighborhood all night in rags and sandals!"
Socks sighed, then turned to his short robotic buddy for assistance. Robot thought quickly. "But Shannon, Cleopatra was the feminine legend. "
"Did you say Cleopatra?" she asked thoughtfully.
To demonstrate, he projected a picture of the Egyptian queen on a white wall from his eye lenses. "Of course. What more notorious symbol of feminine power was there? Why, her beauty was revered around the world, and continues to be an icon to this very day."
Shannon smiled. "She is awfully pretty.
"Making it the perfect fit for a lady such as yourself," Robot grinned, slyly shutting his projection off.
The girl pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear as she thought it over . "You really think I could pull her off?"
"Absolutely," he grinned.
Socks nudged him appreciatively in the shoulder. "Thanks for the save. I owe you a favor."
"Can you make me into Mark Antony?"
"Who?" asked Socks.
Robot sighed. "Never mind."
Next to Robot, Socks had the next kindest attitude about Shannon of the group. He'd known Shannon even longer than Mitch and Cubey. As Robot understood it, they had gone to preschool together and moved up through school together, stuck in the same classrooms grade after grade. Not often did people move out of their suburb, yet Shannon was one of the few acquaintances from so long ago that Socks had been able to call on for that long. And since discovering that Robot had the hots for her, Socks had tried especially hard to be nice to Shannon and even, as of late, incorporate her into a couple of their outings if he thought it was a good opportunity for Robot to get close to her. He was the automaton's best friend, and he wanted him to be happy.
Besides, Socks wasn't sure what she would be doing that night if she wasn't coming with them, but if it were going to Roger's costume party, he had no doubt that she'd be going alone, or with her best and most reliable friend of the lot, Pam Sullivan. And for whatever reason, things didn't seem to go in Robot's favor when Pam was around.
Mitch and Cubey came up to them.
"How'd the costume hunt go?" Socks asked.
"Horrible." Mitch sighed.
"By the time we got to the drug store, all that was left was a red cape and green paint," Cubey said, showing their friends the contents of the green bag. "And it ate up the last of our money!"
"Why don't you do like Robot and make your own?" Socks said.
"Yeah, with what?" Mitch asked.
Robot scanned his friends as they stood in front of him. "Well, with my optical projector, and the data I have thus far collected on the holiday, I believe I can determine a fitting costume for the both of you." He pulled up a scanned happy picture of Cubey to present to the group. "For example, Cubey, based on your genetic makeup, you may consider fashioning an affordable Dracula costume."
"You think I could be a vampire?" Cubey asked with a pleased smile.
"With a practical joke store pair of fangs, maybe," Robot said. "And Mitch, if you let me borrow that green paint and some hair gel, I think I can make you into a pretty convincing fusion of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."
"Huh," Mitch said. "Maybe tonight won't bite so bad."
In Madman's office, however, an interesting bargain was taking place between their totalitarian principal and the snakes from the rafters.
"I need you to keep an eye on Morton, Freeman, Cubinacle, Westerburg, and most of all, Jones. As my most trustworthy A++ students, and my leads in the AV department, I'm enlisting you two to look after those five-make sure they are really earning that money fair and square."
"Leave it to us, Principal Madman," Lenny shook his hand in a gentlemanly agreement, "We'll make sure everything goes on according to plan."
Just as soon as the door to Madman's office closed behind him, Lenny and Denny broke out into snickers. "Oh, it couldn't be any easier," Lenny said. "Fate has dealt us a royal flush, my brother. We'll make it so miserable for them that they'll either be trick or treating all night or go home empty handed." He rubbed his hands together. "Then when Robot is stuck in mandatory detention for the rest of middle school, you and I will reclaim our titles as rulers of the school!"
The charming, light-hearted electric doorbell music of the automaton's home sounded, and Robot, in costume, dashed out from his room. "I'll get it!" he gladly announced to his family.
From the top of the escalator, he hopped onto the rail guard and slid down using his slick cape as a sled, pouncing off at the bottom easily onto his feet and making a dash for the front room.
When the door flew up, Robot's eyes widened. Standing on the front walk, his crush was with a long, thin, white sleeveless gown, gold painted silver jewelry, including bracelets, necklaces, and a crown over her ebony braided hair wig. On her one remaining human foot, she wore an orange sandal—on her face, one of her typical, bored frowns under a heavy layer of eye makeup. All together, the outfit attempted to create the illusion of ancient Egyptian royalty.
"What's you're problem?" she asked, noticing a smile sprout on the robot's face.
Robot placed one arm level to his chest, pulled aside his cape with his other hand, and bowed. "Forgive me, my queen, for my impudence, but thy beauty hath stunned me."
"Are you gonna stand there and patronize me?" she asked with her hand on her hip, "Or are you gonna let me in?"
"Of course, of course," he said, making way for Shannon to walk in. "Thine company is mine pleasure."
Shannon groaned, squeezed her eyes shut while Robot shut the door. "I can't believe I got pulled into this," she muttered under her breath.
"Oh, it won't be so bad, Shannon," Robot said, returning to his innocent, optimistic speech, "At least we will all be with each other," he said, leaning forward romantically.
To his surprise, Shannon suddenly picked him up by the collar of his costume, pulled in within inches of her face, and looked him in the eye with a menacing seriousness.
"Now you listen up and listen good, " she murmured to him under a breath of hostility, "I don't know what they taught you was appropriate in your… robo-training or whatever, but in case you didn't know or forgot, girls do not like to be touched."
"B-But Shannon, I ne-"
"Ever!"
Robot gulped. He'd never seen her like this before—her low, threatening tone frightened him.
"I said I would go with you tonight because we're study partners, and up until the other night, I believed you had some sort of manners, but get cheeky again and I'll rip both your arms right off your shoulder joints and use them to tie you to the flagpole. Understand?"
He held up his finger weakly, trying to get her attention. In a wimpy voice, he muttered, "Shannon-"
"UNDERSTAND?!"
Robot's face crunched as her voice sent rippling aches to his antennae. "Erm... yes ma'am."
Shannon smiled from under her makeup. "Good."
With that, she dropped him flat on the floor. As she went to check the door, Robot rubbed his backside with his glove, watching her with narrowed eyes. "Hmph," he muttered, noting her rudeness. Shannon had gotten into habit of treated him like a dog, and while he put up with it because he liked her, Robot had his moments where he sincerely wondered if their relationship had anything positive for him at all.
The doorbell rang again.
"Hang tight," she told him over her shoulder. "I've got this one."
Shannon approached the door just as the doorbell rang yet again.. She hit the button and waited for the door, and was soon greeted by the first trick-or-treater of the Jones house—Socks. He stood in a zombie costume, topped with a crown, with a pillowcase outstretched towards the Cairo queen.
"Rrraaaahhh..." he uttered. "I be Lord Decay, King of the Mummies. Beware-"
SLAM. "Sorry, we're closed." Shannon shut her eyes, slamming the metal door with her elbow on the 'shut' button.
Robot picked himself from the floor and massaged the sides of his light bulb. "Was that really necessary?"
"The Royal Butt Wipe got us into this mess in the first place," she said with her arms folded. "Let him have a moment to suffer."
They heard Socks begin to anxiously beat on the door and scratch and scrape at it with his nails like a cat. Robot lowered his eyelids. Already, he was beginning to lose his patience that night. "Please open the door for him."
After Robot's polite request, and a series of anxious doorbell rings, Shannon sighed obnoxiously and pushed the button to open the door once again. She was met by a stern-faced Socks. He walked in with raised shoulders, appearing to have a challenged dignity, turned and pointed at her as she shut the door behind him, trying to look like the speechless glare he was making was of all-real hate. She looked at him and took in his menacing look without heed, shaking her head to herself as soon as he walked away.
"Sorry I'm late. Robutt, you guys ready?"
"I suppose," he said, grabbing his donation box.
"Where's Mitch and Cubey?" asked Shannon.
"Did somebody call for Jekyll," Mitch said, popping out from behind a bush, "or, Mr. Hyde?" he turned his head, revealing the right side of his face to be painted bright green, with obnoxiously flamed out hair to match.
"Mitch?" Socks asked. "What's up with your hair?"
"I think I used a bit too much Aqua-net on him," Cubey said, rolling himself forward. "On the bright side, you'll stand out at the a party."
Quite the contrast, Cubey's black hair was pulled back tight against his skull, with a little triangle of black marker in the middle of his forehead to give him a widow's peak. He wore a loose, long sleeved black suit and a red cape that at standing height hung just half a foot from the ground.
But Socks was the show off. "So, what do you dudes think of my costume?"
Shannon blinked. "Is that... toilet paper?"
"Two ply, no lie," he smirked.
Shannon slowly set her donation box down on the floor. "Okay, okay, hold the phone," she said. "I agreed to go all out and dress up as a character to pair up with you JUST SO YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH WEARING TOILET PAPER!"
"Would you chill?" he said. "I'm not stupid... I'm wearing underwear."
"Isn't two-ply, like, two dollars a roll?" Mitch asked.
"Eegh, dollar and a quarter," he said, rubbing his arms shyly. "I like the softer kind."
"So much for being inexpensive."
"That's it, I'm changing!" Shannon said. "I'm not going if my costume partner is running around the streets in his underwear!"
"Oh, I'm sorry if I'm too embarrassing to be seen with," Socks shouted back at her, "Oh great Queen Nano-Titty!"
Shannon whipped him hard with her empty pillowcase. "Hey!" Socks yelped, grabbing his stinging arm.
"Come on, you two!" Robot said, "The faster we collect this money, the faster we'll be back at the party."
They stuck their tongues out at each other, and the doorbell rang again. Robot was the one to answer it this time. When he opened the door, Robot saw the fruit of his labor. His makeshift costumes for Mitch and Cubey didn't look so bad in the dark.
"Trick or treat, smell my feet," Mitch said in sing-song voice. "Dude, what are you supposed to be?" referring to Socks.
"I'd rather not talk about it..." Socks looked away.
"You know there's going to be, like, forty of you mummy guys running around," Cubey pointed out.
"Ah, yeah," Socks grinned, "and it's a good thing then that I've Christened myself Mummy Lord,"
"Don't you need a guy in a robe for that?" Mitch whispered to Cubey.
"And isn't it going to be raining tonight?" Robot asked.
"Great..." Socks sighed.
"You're really going to be crying Mummy, Socks." Mitch snickered. "Just like the year-"
"If I have to stand here and listen to one more terrible pun, "Shannon protested, "I'm going to flip!"
"Affirmative," Robot confirmed with Shannon. "We need to start our route if we have any chance at collecting the grand total amount of currency by midnight and arrive at Roger's party before it ends."
"Fine," the group sighed collectively, somberly wandering out the door.
When Robot's door slammed shut behind Socks, the end of his trailing costume got caught between the doors and ripped off the lower half of his leg. Socks spun around. "Aw, come on!"
"There's no time to fix it, just move," Shannon called back to him.
Socks, now with a bare leg, shivered and ran off after them.
The puns are so bad, they're going to charge me.
Whatever Happened to Robot Jones? © Greg Miller & Cartoon Network