A/N: it's evolving. Maybe it will reach 'reasonably qualifies as a story' state someday?
Chapter 5: Gingersnap Witches
After the Koboi Crisis, as the incident with Mr. Bun had been dubbed, Tony's therapy sessions started right back up again. Or so the email notice Tony got two weeks later informed. Happy willingly drove his boss over to the new location, the old one being literally a grease spot now, but decided to go in with his boss and wait in the lobby while Tony went off somewhere to make sure there was indeed Therapy.
Waiting inside was... insightful. Happy thought he could understand just a little bit of what created Tony's stories now.
Happy shifted again in his seat and wondered if all waiting room chairs were created to be the most uncomfortable things on the planet, or if it was just a design flaw. Because really, why couldn't you just have a bench? Then you wouldn't need to smoosh yourself into things that were clearly made for someone half the size of a normal human, and you could read you book comfortably without having to move every other minute so your body didn't start complaining again.
And why were there only five? Five! That's an odd number! That means the row of chairs can only fit three people per the usual one seat away rule. With only five seats and more than three complete strangers in the room, it was automatically awkward. Someone, Happy decided, must not want people waiting around out here. It was probably that receptionist. She looked awfully grumpy, Happy would bet money she just wanted to get back to her illicit computer activities. Maybe she had taken the sixth chair?!
Attempting to take his mind off the cramped position, Happy eyed the rest of the room. There was an equally uncomfortable looking man sitting two seats away, with white-blonde hair, probably dyed, fiddling with some sort of stones. Wearing a cozy leather jacket and a candy cane scarf, Happy observed that he would be much more suited to somewhere colder. Or, judging by his fidgeting, anywhere but here, really. Happy could identify with that.
Someone, it seemed, had had way too much time and way too many pipe cleaners, because everything out of reach of the receptionist's desk had been Wizard of Oz-ified. Everywhere Happy looked, little brown and yellow monkeys with wings decorated the room. Some of them had fezzes. And hold on, was that—? Happy leaned closer. Yup. The wicked witch of the East's legs, striped purple and black, complete with curling red poulaines stuck out from underneath the lamp on the small table beside him. That was comforting.
Happy needed to get up. Leaning over had dug the armrest of his seat into his stomach and it was now screaming silently. But just getting up to walk around would be strange. Then he spotted it. Salvation in the form of a water dispenser tucked away in the corner on the other side of the room. Levering himself out of the trap—sorry, the seat, with some difficulty, Happy made a bee-line for it.
Grabbing a cup, Happy looked down to find the switches. Oh, and there was the other witch. Or, at least, part of her. One soggy hand stuck out of the slatted grille underneath the water dispenser, grasping hopelessly at the air, bits of wire showing around the soaked fuzz. What a gruesome death, Happy thought, and pressed the switch.
The water sprayed down around the pipe-cleaner arm, and with a gurgling scream, it was sucked through the grille and disappeared. Slightly disturbed, Happy filled his water cup.
Fifteen minutes and no sign of Tony. Happy wondered if he should be worried.
Glinda the Good Witch was hanging from the fan. In pieces. He'd noticed her three minutes ago and Happy could still feel her eyes boring holes into the top of his skull. He kept his gaze away from her though, feeling inexplicably guilty whenever he caught a glimpse of her dismembered body, fuzz and wire twisted into almost grotesque shapes in order to cling to the light in the center of the fan.
Candy-cane scarf man had noticed her too, it seemed. A few minutes ago, he'd put away the stones he'd been fiddling with and summoned a baggy of ginger snaps from places unknown to Happy. He seemed to be considering throwing them at the Good Witch. Happy himself had started thinking that might be a good idea. Anything to get her accusing button eyes off him.
He couldn't seem to find Dorthy and her troupe anywhere either.
There was a lake monster in the sink. Happy had gotten up and wandered out to find the bathroom some time ago, and now found himself in it, but very concerned. He'd found Dorthy and Co., and the Mines of Moria.
Happy had to give it to whoever had created the scene, they were quite talented. Never mind the mixing of fandoms bit. The massive black lake monster took up half the half the mirror space on the wall, and all of the sinks.
It was curled around and through them like a living vine that had entrapped a section of fence, except it was bigger, made completely of pipe cleaners, and its fence was a sink. Three sinks, actually.
Luckily for Happy, he didn't really need to use the restroom, or the sinks, he had simply needed to get away from Glinda. And he had plenty of time. Probably. So he leaned closer to examine it, as you do, when faced with artistry of this caliber.
As he'd seen when he came in, Dorthy and her friends were scattered all about the room. The cowardly lion, who was actually a lion, and a very detailed one at that, was being eaten alive, near the beak-like mouth of the beast. Clearly, they hadn't reached the Emerald City yet, because he was screaming and flailing, vividly. The Scarecrow was in pieces on the floor, where the sink monster was spilling over and out across the tiles. Maybe he'd jumped. The tin man may not have a heart, but he certainly had courage, as he was over by the paper towel dispenser, attempting to rescue Dorthy herself—sans red shoes, which were still on the Wicked Witch's feet—from being tossed into the trash by one of the creature's many limbs.
Scattered about the scene were also the entire pipe cleaner Fellowship of the Ring. Happy wondered if they were collectible. Gandalf was standing in one of the only open spaces on the sink's surface, with his arms and staff raised, presumably saying "You Shall Not Pass Gas!" or something of the like. Aragorn and Legolas were duking it out with seven of the Sink Monster's tentacles, and Sam was hauling Frodo out of one of the sinks, in which the Sink Monster appeared to be sucking the ring-bearer in. It took Happy a moment to spot Merry and Pippin escaping through the ceiling vents, but he when he did, he had to take a picture, strangely reminded of Clint. And Boromir, Boromir was dead on the tiles below the sink, clear of the flailing beast, and surrounded by what Happy certainly hoped was juice, spelling out words around him.
Tilting his head to read them as best he could Happy could only laugh, once the massage got through. There, written out in pipe-cleaner blood on the floor of the bathroom next to the scarecrow with no brain, the creator had decided to let loose their frustrations on the world.
This is what you get Sean Bean! Either say you name Seen Bean or Shawn Bawn, I don't care, but until you do, you shall forever be damned to deepest, darkest, balrog infested pits that character deaths in cinema have to offer! So there!
Of course, while Happy was bent over, breathlessly laughing in front of a monster-filled sink, of course that was the moment Tony would choose to enter. Because fate wouldn't have it any other way. Lucky him.
Tony, being Tony, didn't spare the scene a second glance, save to snatch Toto off of the monster's head, where he'd apparently been controlling the thing, and tuck the dog into his pocket. That done, he gave Happy a mere moment to recover, snorting at the message on the floor, before heading for the door.
When they returned to the lobby to retrieve Happy's book, Glinda was not on the fan anymore. Nope, she was smooshed throughly on the floor, and Candy-cane scarf man was doing his best to look totally inconspicuous. The receptionist kept throwing him worried looks, so Happy could figure out what happened pretty easily.
Giving Candy-cane scarf man a thumbs up, which earned him a small smile, Happy picked up his book and followed Tony out. Half-way to the door, he remembered to ask, "So do you have Therapy this week?"
"Nope!" Answered Tony, "False alarm. We're going home."
"Great, great," said Happy, not about to ask if his boss was sure, because of course he was sure, and even if he wasn't, Happy was of the opinion that if he never had to step foot in this place again, it would be too early.
Glinda would haunt his nightmares, he was sure of that much.