Slappy dragged a chair in to sit beside Amy, and watched the debate between Dr. Palmer, her parents, and her sister with an elated expression, his teeth bared in a fierce snarl that mocked a smile. With every word, his eyes bounced between them, flitting from face to face, enraptured, capturing every little muscle tic.
"Why can't we just let things go?" Amy groaned, burying her face into her hands when Dr. Palmer decided to gang up on her about something or other.
Sara was on her in a flash, all teeth and shrill insults, her high voice making the insults grate even worse. "You never think about anyone else! It's always Amy, Amy, bloody sodding Amy!" She was vibrating with rage, spittle flying from her lips in a mist, making Amy flinch away.
"How do you think I feel? Jed is the funny one, and you're the perfect one. Sweet, pretty, oh so damn talented Sara. Sara, with her stupid, oh so 'perfect' masterpieces," Amy sneered, rising to her feet violently; the chair teetered on its wobbly legs dangerously, precariously close to falling.
"'Oh, how could you? My masterpiece! I have to start all over; I'd just gotten the sky the right shade! Wah, the clouds don't look the exact shade of white that my mind's eye sees.' Good God, you whiny, perfectionist bitch! You never shut up for one second about yourself! Go suck a cactus!"
Sara reeled back, her face drawn in pain as though Amy's words were a physical slap, a vicious blow, and then there was the fierce whistle of breath being sucked in through her tight teeth, her eyes flashing as she snapped, "Good Christ! You're mad! Insane! Bloody crazy!" She grabbed at her hair, thick fistfuls clenched between her flexing fingers, and gnashed her teeth.
"You let someone who's tried to kill us tons of times into the house? For what? So you can fall in love with him and hope he takes you away from your pathetic, boring life? Just because no guy here wants you doesn't mean you should let some psychopath in!" To emphasis her point, Sara slapped the table, rattling the delicate china.
Amy's face drained of color, her eyes growing glossy and wet with a sheen of tears. Her hands, which had been clenched around the edge of the table, whipped out like bullets and caught Sara in her well-developed chest, pushing her backwards, into the wall.
Mrs. Kramer gasped audibly, her hands flying up to her throat as Mr. Kramer shoved to his feet, his face bright red, a vein on his forehead pulsing. The red color deepened into blue, and then purple, and then back to red.
Dr. Palmer rushed between the sisters, wrapping his burly arms around Sara's breasts, wrenching her off her feet.
Sara looked torn between extreme pleasure and fury, her hands twisted into talons, arching towards Amy's face, aimed to claw down her face.
Amy threw herself backwards, hitting the sink, bracing herself against the counter as she hissed out long, low breaths that sounded like sobs. Tears ran down her cheeks in thick trails, one right over the other.
Unable to take anymore, Slappy got to his feet within a few seconds, but Amy was faster with her reaction.
She lurched across the few feet between her and Sara, and, almost too fast for Slappy to track, struck her older sister across her face, using the flat of her open palm to draw pink blush across one cheek.
To add to the humility, Amy spat a huge wad of saliva at Sara.
"Screw off, Sara. Sit here and berate me—" Amy's shoulders drew up, her jaw taut. "—all you want, Dr. Palmer will never fuck a cow like you."
Jed let out a long, shrill giggle that sounded more at home in an insane asylum as Sara stumbled away.
"And this is where Amy and I take our leave," Slappy declared as he swooped in and wrapped a cool arm around her shoulders, steering her outside.
They got blizzards at Dairy Queen and ate them as they walked, Slappy slowly and cautiously as though he expected it to jump up and bite his face, and Amy viciously, using her teeth to bite through the cold ice cream.
"That was very bold of you," the dummy told her, licking a trickle of ice cream that dripped across his knuckles. "To slap her, I mean. I didn't think you had a mean bone in your body. You actually grew a set of balls since I last saw you." He gave her an appraising stare as she smashed her fist into the red button on a walk/don't walk sign.
"You still haven't grown any manners," she spat viciously, her lip curling over her teeth not unlike a snarling dog; there were smears of chocolate on her teeth that ruined the dangerous, bristled appearance.
"Yes, please, thank you." He smirked as she flushed red and ignored him.
Setting off a quick pace, they hurried across the crosswalk and cut across the park.
"She just makes me so mad! They've always sided with her, always held her up on a fucking pedestal. So perfect, sweet, utterly and irrevocably amazing. She can do no wrong; she's always right! Kind, caring, selfless, and sweet. It makes me sick," she raged, her sticky teeth clicking with every over-pronounced consonant and drawn-out vowel.
"She thinks she's some sort of DaVinci, the way she goes on about her paintings. Good god. 'My masterpiece! Oh no.' And Mom and Dad think she's just shitting rainbows and puking glitter. You'd think she was Jesus walking on water, how they go on and on about her, about her so-called masterpieces, gushing and throwing every praise at her." She stuck her tongue out, pretending to puke as she crammed the last bit of her ice cream cone into her mouth.
"Sounds bad," Slappy said lightly, sucking a mouthful of warm ice cream into his mouth.
She threw him a disgusted look and flipped him off.