Sparcticus and Fannie

There weren't any post offices in the Piñarctic.

Sparcticus had no idea why. Maybe too many postmen died from overexposure to the elements or whatever they were delivering froze so much that they could never be opened again. Either way, this meant that he had to go into the main Village on the rare occasion where he had to send a letter.

It was a birthday card with a small bit of money for Arfur Stout. His birthday was coming up shortly, and Sparcticus didn't really know Arfur well enough to join him for any kind of celebration. He did enjoy the conversations they had at the pub, though, so he figured he'd at least send him a little something.

The downside was he had to get by Her.

Her being the town's one and only postal worker.

She was…quite a sight, for lack of a better word. Skinny as a beanpole with elbows that could take out an eye, sharp nails, and the freakiest mask Sparcticus had ever seen. It was an enormous mailbox that she absolutely covered with makeup. The lid of the mailbox opened and closed when she spoke and Sparcticus couldn't even see the outline of a face through it. Not to mention the eyes of her mask were on either side of her head, which made her look like some kind of rare breed of mailbox-fish.

Oh, and for some strange reason, she had a major thing for Sparcticus.

Sparcticus wasn't good with women, god forbid one this pushy and odd-looking would have an interest in him. Sparcticus was convinced some kind of almighty force was putting him into insane situations daily and laughing at him.

He decided to suck it up. He was a grown man; he could handle a little flirting. He took a deep breath, twisted the doorknob of the Post Office, and strolled inside.

Damn it, he was the only customer.

Fannie was sitting at the counter with her sandaled feet up, reading Buttercup Hair Flowers Monthly. When Sparcticus quietly greeted "Um…hello?" she squealed at a pitch loud enough to slash tires, threw the magazine in the air, and leapt right off of her stool.

"Hiiii~!" she chirped, her palms on the counter and one leg up behind her like a flamingo. "What brings you here, hot stuff?"

'Hot stuff…' Sparcticus couldn't help raising a brow. Not exactly the kind of thing you expect to be called when you grew up in a frigid region. "Um…I have this letter…" He held it up and Fannie vaulted the counter. She ran up to him and snatched it from him.

"Oooh, is it for your special someone?" Fannie giggled. "They're very lucky!"

"No," Sparcticus shook his head. "It's a birthday present for Arfur, and he is not my special someone!" He chuckled at his own comment. "I don't even have a special someone…"

"Oh…!" Fannie's blue eyes sparkled. "So the rumors about Sahari and you aren't true, then?"

"No-wait, there are rumors?" Sparcticus wrung his hands nervously. Was his interest in Sahari that obvious?

Fannie didn't answer him. Instead, she meandered over to the door and locked it.

"Would you like a special someone?" she purred as she turned back to Sparcticus, her eyes narrowed in what she probably thought was a seductive manner. Sparcticus thought she looked like she was preparing to sneeze.

"No, um, I'm good…" Sparcticus backed up until his thighs hit the counter.

"Don't fight it, Sparcticus! I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on you!" Much to Sparcticus abject horror, Fannie ripped her shirt right off and leapt on him like a Tigermisu onto prey, pinning him to the counter.

"I-I-I…" Sparcticus' voice skipped like a broken record as Fannie pulled his scarf off. "Stop, please…!"

"No…!" Fannie rested her mouth-lid against Sparcticus' exposed neck and bit it. Hard.

Sparcticus screamed, both out of pain and sheer terror, and bucked Fannie right off of his body. She landed on her butt on the floor and slid backwards, her eyes wide with shock.

Sparcticus saw only one method of escape. He ran right to the window and jumped through it, not even bothering to open it. He squeezed his eyes shut as the glass shattered around him. Luckily he only got a few cuts on his hands and didn't cut his exposed jugular vein because I said so.

He landed on his knees rather ungracefully and narrowly missed hitting his head onto the neighboring building. Ignoring the burning sensation in his knees, he rose to his feet and took off back towards his home.

Sparcticus never thought he'd ever have to ice a hickey that he got from a mailbox, but, like he thought earlier, fate always found new ways to pull tricks on him…