February 7, 2019. "Page 4, Day 10" Behavior!
Black! Black! Up and down, and all around! Black, nothing more! Sir History dusted off my cover, opened my book! Let her feel, let her think, he says! And so the universe began with a peck at the black, a stab in the dark, a success! This large fragment, the new sensation, that I named color, fondled my eyes!
So I begin, a foot tall, with a yellow vessel to move! And ahead was the Maiden tree! Her branches sprinted up with joy, then arched over angrily at the grasses! Her bark was dull, thick, sturdy! But in her invincible hide lay a single hole, a little cubby hole. It had the same black, and where the black existed I destroyed it! Crunchy and crackable: the color black! I pounced!
My head fit perfectly through the hole in her skin! But I was surrounded by the black! I tried to will fire, but it never came out! Her trap was brilliant. Her entrance trapped my neck in a ring of spikes. Hell built in my intestines and twisted them around as though they were on a fork!
And yet there was respite! From outside the tree! The mystery man pulled me out, tearing newborn scars across my nape! Born anew, I chucked fire at the demoness tree! Such power! What had become of me?
I gazed upon my new form! Be it known that I had a large chest, porcelain arms, a dashing tail, legs dressed in pantyhose, ears reborn, tuned to the frequency of my calling, the cheers erupting from the sky! Faces, of my babies, my audience, simple, flashing, flapping gold faces of children shouting in unison!
YOU ARE AN INSPIRATION,
YOU ARE A CHAMPION,
YOU ARE A STAR!
See? I am more than the animal he makes me out to be! I shall be the truth behind the 'puppet smile'!
I squirmed under the couch cushions, sliding on a pair of athletic boxers I snatched from the laundry bin. The humie in the house got less and less surprised by my games, and wearier of my aims, so I made the long chesterfield my home—the breath of the ceiling air vent wrapped itself around my skin…Ha! It's her! She's crawling to me, poking her autumn orange eyes from between the vents! Good old son of a witch—her primal set of teeth hiding behind a jet-black frown, her fur colored as a royal flurry of purples! And good lord that figure! She's almost as hot as her mother!
"Ya know, Poppy, if I were a chap yer age, I'd date ya!"
Mother, you are worth as much as a used tissue. I have converted another fifty thousand just as malleable as you this morning. Meanwhile, your one fan wishes he'd been refunded.
"Poppy girl, he can think I'm disturbed if he wants! The idea's been planted in his mind already. Money. Fame! Know how powerful that is? I can use that angle now Poppy, work it like a field!"
I long for when you were still a Fennekin. Why do you twist your mouth to smile? Give him nary a treat and he will grovel at your feet, begging for a chance to simply pet you. He's lower than a dog.
"Poppy, you ever thought that yer mama might not want a dog? Get someone she doesn't have to keep in line? A friend who can't split her in two? Ever thought about that Poppy? No, no, I'M POPPY! I LEARNED HOW TO HUNT IN THE WOMB!' MY-"
Send me an ear trumpet when you are done, Fennyl.
That Poppy, fading away like a dying memory. Damn I loved her. She was chosen by the movie people to mother that Delphox on the silver screen, the big show, the Pokemon Show! Just days before the XY season started! I don't know how but they convinced some pokeman to meet, her, greet her, breed, her, feed her, seat her—I oughta show Poppy what some friendship can do!
Dante is in my room. The way he smeared his weak dollar store garbage over my natural perfume made me hot in the ears! I didn't spend afternoons smearing myself over his bed for him to disrespect my right to hold property! I hunched by the chipped-up door to the bedroom, knocka-knocka-knockin!
``Breky breky BREKY TIMES! FEED ME BREKY! BREKY NOW OR YOU PAY!``
Planted my radar dish on the door. Today's forecast sounded like a 200-pound critter struggling from under his sheets, shaking his fists and muttering damn it quit bothering me before sweeping his hands over some earplugs and stomping, grumpy, to plop his hand on the knob and twiiiist! I couldn't help but make my cackles echo down the halls, it is instinct and hearing him jangle the knob left and right was so amusing!
``NO BREKY? NO DOOR HANDLE!``
"It's not even 5! Goodnight!"
I slapped the door. ``FUCK YOU HUMIE. I KEEP YOU UP!``
"How am I going to make breakfast if you won't let me out the damn room!?"
I howled out a laugh and bang-bang-banged on the door some more! Planted my radar dish on the door. Heard him curse ME out! Damn bastard almost blew my eardrums the first day! Was fair that I poked the bear every 4 in the morning. Golden rule. Golden rule. I snapped my fingers! Dante stood in front of me. Reached up to plop my mits on his shoulders and snapped again. Now we were right by the fridge.
"Trashy," digging in his eyes with his fists. Then he discarded his complaint. "Oh! Grandma finally put on her bloomers! I'm proud!"
``You no wakey, you pay! Get yer ass seated I'm fixin food.``
Even begin a fire type I felt the heat wash over my fuzzy skin. The glowy ball in the sky focus blasted light through the kitchen window. Right by the fridge was an island of granite. Dante plopped his butt on a stool by the island, reaching his hand to schootch-schootch-schootch his seat this way and that till it felt nice and right on his tookus! Finally, we could talk, over food, in the kitchen, as it should be.
Ungrateful boy. Eyes all baggy. All old looking. Humie is bored of me already. His mental signals were so weak, ready to sleep any second. I swished my wrist a couple of times and cast a pentagram at my left hand. I daintily tapped a set a' sigils in an order that instantly popped some of my energy in him. He woke up now, bones still heavy, but he was awake enough to watch me! I snapped a cup of coffee right by him just in case. Black coffee.
``Dante, ya need some edible food! I bet yer loaded with the poisons they put in the sugar-free, the calorie-free…'Empty calories, just thickens up the arteries! My world? Your eating meat and potatoes, homemade every morning, pumpernickel, eggs on Sundays!' "
I poorly mimicked his grandma, but she doesn't matter. I hopped on over to the trash can, an aluminum cylinder with a footrest that popped the lid right open! Got that wild surge while shoving my paws in the mushy, cold bottom of a can. I ground leathery old rinds and gritty TV dinner packages against my incisors, rolling the wet mush back with my tongue down my throat and into the furnace I called a stomach! Can't wait for seconds! Dive again!
Oi Poppy, if I chuck ya some applewood, would you forgive me?
With an ocean view.
That Poppy. As though to undermine my wit, she had tried to allure me with a special little deal of some family time by the world's biggest pool of death. That hairball didn't realize how much control I had over myself. And besides, if I'm 'sane', that itch on my body, like the hairs of a feather tickling a baby's raw skin, could never be scratched with a vacation in California, with him petting me on the neck in my mansion with a wide view of Las Vegas, perhaps conversing about our affections for the accuracy of an oil painting over a bottle of vodka, shaken, not stirred, Poppy.
``I got a real nice idea for ya mister. I'll make us up a little some special since we got space-age tech and in turn, I'll make a deal with you that'll make our hostilities vaporize.``
"What you have in mind?!"
``See there's that thing comes with February mister,``
"We aren't doing anything but chewing the cud until April."
``I'm tellin' ya to get me a special kind of stick.``
"Use a pencil."
``Ignorant youth! I need something real, a product with some actual quality made by a countryman looking for an honest dollar! Not some shitty mass-produced japcrap packed up from sawdust that'll splinter to hell and back!``
"I'll carve you a pencil for one dollar."
``Or the humie can buy me a proper branch, preferably a broomstick, with bumps and a heat tolerance of 555 degrees Fahrenheit! Without it, I might end up gutting you and moving on!``
"Calm down!" And you expect me to give you so much as a matchstick after threatening me.
He thought he could get away with sly little comments! I raised my hand and made a gripping motion, tearing out the bottom of a cupboard and letting all the stacks of paper plates shatter!
``If I were you, I'd keep in mind that my shitty hobble is made from sawdust and prayers! Sawdust is as helpful to me as a belligerent millennial, Dante, and you've just heard how I like sawdust!``
Dante shot out his stool. I locked up his foot so he'd fall on his face. Ahh, I can smell it, the blood oozing from his nose. The scent acted like coffee: soothing and stimulating, and he didn't even think I did it! I made a motion with my hands again, snapping a chair in front of me with some real wood in it. As I chewed on it, with the wood becoming ashes before it could splinter my tongue, he started thinking.
I wont be able to buy a gum wrapper by the end of this!
Is that another harsh thing I hear?
``Liar! If you aren't smart enough to manage your own bank account, I'll gladly go ahead and drain it!``
"Please! Don't get so uptight over something so small!"
Little bastard with his slick tongue. I raised my hand like I was gonna slap the double entendres out of him. His head nestled in his arms, eyes shut, like a weak pup hiding his sickness. My nose picked up stress and it lit me up like coffee! Show, the soul. Show me that soul! I forced his head to face mine! Humie was REAL scared! I pulled up my pentagram again, and I chose something to heal. I clenched my claws into my palms.
And-let's-welcome-our-contestants-who-didn't-clap-for-me-!-The-Potts-Family-!-Hey Poppy! You're supposed to prevent me from thinking these stray quotes!
``I'm real sorry Dante, I'm real sorry about the BIG ANGRY thing, I get pissed sometimes in my manic panics! Makes a Drampa murder ya know! Ya alright, Dante?I walked over and offered him a hand which he didn't take. Rather, he stood under his own power, then smeared his bloodied nose upon his sleeve.``Get it soon! If the broom aint up to par I won't feel anything and this whole moody thing is gonna get out of hand! I'll show you what I need, my boy!``
Fennly, I am considering a blood transfusion. You act as though you are a neglected Braixen.
What's that mean, dearie?
Let your manners go!
He took deep breathes for a few seconds, then slowly rested himself back on the stool. "I don't mean to be rude, Trashy, but weren't you making me breakfast?"
Try-as-I-might-,-I-couldn't-make-heads-or-tails-of-what-Clare-meant-. Again?! Poppy, do your job! I'm struggling to follow this conversation properly!
``And didn't ya have some text to decipher? In his infinite wisdom and grace, the theater man never thought to ask his phoxy fellow about how to read the script!''
"Go on and tell me then! How do you behave?! What do you eat?!"
``About that suggestion, Nurse Joy's got a treasure trove of info for you, but our conversations were from one end of the bed to the other.``
"Brilliant answer."
``Listen, ol' boy! I'm saying that even if you could read it, none of it would be relevant!``
His hand covers his face. "Even Layton couldn't stand this many riddles," he grumbled.
He is getting too mad! Using secret tricks of the trade, he conveniently imagined a beautiful penthouse set in the suburbs, surrounded by emerald plants and topped with a gold helipad! Suddenly a calm comes over him! Rather, he freezes up. If he can't think about moving, he can't run away! ``Dante, you're losing your mind over some scraps of paper. Do you realize where I'm taking you? ``
"Las Vegas."
``How could you tell, its but a house!``
"Because it was Las Vegas last time, and the time before that," gritting his teeth. "And I know what you're going to say, too! I don't want dames feeding me grapes by the poolside! I want answers! Why is that a such a crime around here?"
``In time, my friend. See Dante, yer a spec right now, but I'm trying to make this spec a spec of diamond.``
And who are you?!
Complain, complain, complain! Like wading through sewers, his mind. I didn't poke his brain much because of that. Why is she shaking, put some clothes on, it's cold today, i-should-turn-the-heater-up, bout' the only thing he wouldn't complain about was food. Greedy.
He flinched when I swept a paw behind my back. I snapped a little something special into it. A grimace grimaced his face when I walked over. A grimace gaced his face when I walked over. Granced. Dante's granmice twisted into a smile when I offered food to him.
"A sandwich?"
``Yeah! Peeps usually love ta cut bread into little triangles, but I don't believe in that. Bread is never meant to be a triangle that's the reason it grows in a rectangle.``
And I retracted the plate! He thought he could reach out and steal it! Where'd he get the notion that my meals were free? Because he was new, I brought the plate back to him. Soon as he took a bite, I cackled. It's instinct. He coughed up some crumbs.
"Did you put toothpaste in this?!"
``See Dante,one step to success is cutting out the middle man! Clean your teeth DURING the meal!``
His toothpaste looked like roadkill by the sink. He needed it sometimes, at least my hot breath killed germs. I undid the lock on his fridge in a second flat for some paper towels after he finished giggling. Didn't need a ruler, which she gnawed into a haphazard key,-His lips! They just finished flappin'! Rewind!
"There's a blender that has been rescued from a Michelin restaurant in there, be care-" heard enough!
``You rescued a blender?``
He leaned a bit to the side of his stool. "It was cheaper for the restaurant to 'donate' it and get a new one than add it to the taxes."
He rescued a blender before me!
Snap! Soon the loud and satisfying caterwauling of cracked glass flooded my ears. Stunned, with his hands on his head, Dante took short breaths. I teleported the blender perfectly on the top plate of my skull! The base of his precious obsession was ruined, shattering on the floor where I lay! He panicked! The river of lollipops kept spilling out his pocket!
Poppy, peering her head from the kitchen window! Her fur looked damn fine in the sunlight! I'm always up for a hug! How have you been, girl?
Well, that's something I suppose! Your 'ticket' not only wants a refund, but he also wants a legal dispute!
Thank you, Poppy, always a helpful gem. How long until I get my meds?
Four hours, thirteen minutes, and seventeen seconds as of the end of this sentence.