Gwen blinked and stared mystified at the tiny specimen that stood before her.
"Oh Timmy this turned out better than I expected!" Tabitha whispered excitedly in her doll's ear. Timmy just clapped a gloved hand over his gaping mouth. "You are no fun TimTim!" Tabby laughed faking a hurt expression.
"T-tabby s-shrunk Theresa!" Timmy gasped finally.
"Yes, a nifty little potion isn't it?" Tabitha smirked twirling the empty vial between her fingers. "Come on dollface, let's go back home and get you that nice pitcher of Martimmies. We can check on these two ladies later..."
The two departed, leaving the still stunned Gwen staring down at the pint-sized Theresa. There was a brief moment of complete silence, but then Theresa parted her lips to emit an ear piercing shriek. Gwen covered her ears and looked around, half expecting people to come running at what sounded like the wail of a mouse whose tail was caught under a cat's claw. The wails were interspersed with choking sobs, and exasperated Gwen knelt down in front of the crying creature.
"Can it TinkerTramp!" she snapped, removing a silk hankerchief from the pocket of her jacket. She pinched Theresa's head between her fingers, wrapped the squirming girl in the hankerchief and dropped Theresa into her leather Gucci purse. Theresa's continuing squeals of terror were muffled by the sliding of a zipper. Gwen strode confidently back to her penthouse apartment, occasionally coughing nervously as to not arouse the suspicions of strangers who might inquire as to why her bag was screaming. After clattering up the stairs and slamming her apartment door behind her, Gwen carelessly tossed her bag onto her marble countertop. It was only the tiny squeal that reminded of her newest acquisition. Gwen unzipped the bag and removed the hankerchief containing the miniature version of her arch rival. Theresa unrolled from the hankerchief like Cleopatra in her famous entrance, unravelling herself from a carpet at the feet of Julius Caesar. Her entrance was not *quite* as graceful, and instead of finding herself in a palace at the foot of an emperor, she was on Gwen's hard, marble countertop. Gwen lifted the hankerchief, then promptly threw it away upon the discovery that it had been completely soaked through with tears. She looked down at the tiny figure with her head buried in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Gwen almost pitied the poor creature. Almost. Theresa then managed to form whole words between gasping sobs and cried "Ethan!"
"Ethan?" Gwen exclaimed, "You're the size of a rodent and all you can think about is Ethan?"
"How are we supposed to get married if I look like *this*?" she sniffled in return.
"Well, maybe you can be the bride on top of the wedding cake. A plastic groom for a plastic bride..." Gwen sniggered.
Theresa collapsed in a fresh wave of tears. Gwen no longer felt sorry for her, she felt incredibly annoyed. She should have left her there on the wharf, maybe a wave would have come and swept her away, the ocean currents dragging her far off to sea. Instead, the girl she loathed most in the world was sitting on *her* countertop. Just sitting there sobbing, completely helpless and vulnerable. Helpless and vulnerable...Gwen thought about this while looking around at various objects in her apartment.
Butcher knife...
Toaster...
Boiling water...
Spiked stiletto heeled shoe...
Oh a chesse grater... Now *that* could be interesting...
Gwen shook her head as if those diabolical thoughts could have poured out her ears and been vanquished forever. When she regained her senses, Theresa was still sitting with her arms folded across her chest, her bottom lip jutted out in a mournful pout. Gwen chose to ignore her and flopped down on the couch to watch TV. She had a few brief minutes of peace and quiet, until her serenity was shattered by un unearthly cry.
"GWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN-N-N!" came the tiny shriek from across the room. Gwen shuffled over to find her purse open, it's contents scattered across the countertop. Her designer perfume flowed in a gentle stream and dripped onto the Mexican tiled floors. The dark haired girl sat a few inches away from the scented puddle, her two legs jutting out on either side of a tube of ruby red lipstick. She slowly rose to her feet revealing her face covered with face powder and smeared with said lipstick. Feigning complete innocence she whispered "I wanna watch TV too..."
Gwen grimaced, this was just like babysitting a toddler. She snatched Theresa by the foot and swept over to the couch. She tossed Theresa rather roughly, sending the small girl flying and sinking head first into the soft leather. A few muffle groans later Theresa was next to Gwen. She grabbed for the remote and started to madly push buttons.
"Wha the hell do you think you are doing Parasita?"
"Fashion Television is on. They are showing the newest Hot Culture collections from Madrid and Esparagus!" Theresa squealed.
"It's Haute Couture and it is showing from Milan and Paris..." Gwen retorted.
"But isn't there a city that is a vegetable?" Theresa inquired, batting her wispy eyelashes naively.
"That is Brussells you halfwit, and it's in Belgium. They arn't very famous for their fashion designers..."
"But they have good waffles! Oh and chocolate!"
Gwen made a big show of rolling her eyes dramatically. "Besides, what do you want to watch the collections for?"
"I want to be a fashion designer! It's always been my dream..."
"Oh really?" Gwen interjected, "I always thought your dream was to marry *my* ex-fiancee."
Gwen's cheeks grew scarlet with fury and Theresa's squirmed sheepishly. "Well, I still want to watch it..."
"Maybe we should watch it, it could give you some fashion sense. Been snooping through Britney Spears' dumpster laterly?"
Gwen wore a satisfied smirk as Theresa scrunched her forehead in annoyance. But, she maintained an aura of calm. "Whatever, I just want to watch something else. Your show is boring..." She made a face at the numbers whizzing past on the screen while a man in a stiff business suit droned on about the NASDAQ plummeting 6%.
"Well Theresa, this is what grownups watch. We can't all be braiding our hair while watching Teletubbies with our girlfriends, giggling about whether or not Johnny will call tonight..."
Theresa fingered the plait that weaved it's way down the length of her black tresses and the tendrils framing her face. "Well, I'm going to watch something else..."
Like Mighty Mouse on a mission, she snatched the remote from Gwen's lap and began flicking the channels. Gwen in turn attemped to retrieve it. But, for her current size Theresa still had a exceptionally strong grip. The television crackled and flashed a myriad of images, chanting along at the two women and their mini tug-of-war. With determination frozen in her gaze Gwen was finally able to gain the upper hand and the remote was released into her grasp. Not able to accept defeat, Theresa leaped onto Gwen's arm and seized her hand. Theresa's jaw clamped onto Gwen's index finger, her tiny teeth latching on to the delicate skin. Gwen howled in pain and waved her hand fervently in the air, frantically trying to free her finger from Theresa's clenched teeth. Theresa's tiny body flopped back and forth with Gwen's fierce movements. Finally, the prisoner finger was released from it's captor. Gwen jammed her finger into her mouth and nursed the wounded digit. She watched as Theresa soared through the air and smashed against the wall, and like a recently swatted fly slid downwards and slumped against the floor.
"Oh shit..." Gwen muttered around her finger.
"Oh Timmy this turned out better than I expected!" Tabitha whispered excitedly in her doll's ear. Timmy just clapped a gloved hand over his gaping mouth. "You are no fun TimTim!" Tabby laughed faking a hurt expression.
"T-tabby s-shrunk Theresa!" Timmy gasped finally.
"Yes, a nifty little potion isn't it?" Tabitha smirked twirling the empty vial between her fingers. "Come on dollface, let's go back home and get you that nice pitcher of Martimmies. We can check on these two ladies later..."
The two departed, leaving the still stunned Gwen staring down at the pint-sized Theresa. There was a brief moment of complete silence, but then Theresa parted her lips to emit an ear piercing shriek. Gwen covered her ears and looked around, half expecting people to come running at what sounded like the wail of a mouse whose tail was caught under a cat's claw. The wails were interspersed with choking sobs, and exasperated Gwen knelt down in front of the crying creature.
"Can it TinkerTramp!" she snapped, removing a silk hankerchief from the pocket of her jacket. She pinched Theresa's head between her fingers, wrapped the squirming girl in the hankerchief and dropped Theresa into her leather Gucci purse. Theresa's continuing squeals of terror were muffled by the sliding of a zipper. Gwen strode confidently back to her penthouse apartment, occasionally coughing nervously as to not arouse the suspicions of strangers who might inquire as to why her bag was screaming. After clattering up the stairs and slamming her apartment door behind her, Gwen carelessly tossed her bag onto her marble countertop. It was only the tiny squeal that reminded of her newest acquisition. Gwen unzipped the bag and removed the hankerchief containing the miniature version of her arch rival. Theresa unrolled from the hankerchief like Cleopatra in her famous entrance, unravelling herself from a carpet at the feet of Julius Caesar. Her entrance was not *quite* as graceful, and instead of finding herself in a palace at the foot of an emperor, she was on Gwen's hard, marble countertop. Gwen lifted the hankerchief, then promptly threw it away upon the discovery that it had been completely soaked through with tears. She looked down at the tiny figure with her head buried in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Gwen almost pitied the poor creature. Almost. Theresa then managed to form whole words between gasping sobs and cried "Ethan!"
"Ethan?" Gwen exclaimed, "You're the size of a rodent and all you can think about is Ethan?"
"How are we supposed to get married if I look like *this*?" she sniffled in return.
"Well, maybe you can be the bride on top of the wedding cake. A plastic groom for a plastic bride..." Gwen sniggered.
Theresa collapsed in a fresh wave of tears. Gwen no longer felt sorry for her, she felt incredibly annoyed. She should have left her there on the wharf, maybe a wave would have come and swept her away, the ocean currents dragging her far off to sea. Instead, the girl she loathed most in the world was sitting on *her* countertop. Just sitting there sobbing, completely helpless and vulnerable. Helpless and vulnerable...Gwen thought about this while looking around at various objects in her apartment.
Butcher knife...
Toaster...
Boiling water...
Spiked stiletto heeled shoe...
Oh a chesse grater... Now *that* could be interesting...
Gwen shook her head as if those diabolical thoughts could have poured out her ears and been vanquished forever. When she regained her senses, Theresa was still sitting with her arms folded across her chest, her bottom lip jutted out in a mournful pout. Gwen chose to ignore her and flopped down on the couch to watch TV. She had a few brief minutes of peace and quiet, until her serenity was shattered by un unearthly cry.
"GWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN-N-N!" came the tiny shriek from across the room. Gwen shuffled over to find her purse open, it's contents scattered across the countertop. Her designer perfume flowed in a gentle stream and dripped onto the Mexican tiled floors. The dark haired girl sat a few inches away from the scented puddle, her two legs jutting out on either side of a tube of ruby red lipstick. She slowly rose to her feet revealing her face covered with face powder and smeared with said lipstick. Feigning complete innocence she whispered "I wanna watch TV too..."
Gwen grimaced, this was just like babysitting a toddler. She snatched Theresa by the foot and swept over to the couch. She tossed Theresa rather roughly, sending the small girl flying and sinking head first into the soft leather. A few muffle groans later Theresa was next to Gwen. She grabbed for the remote and started to madly push buttons.
"Wha the hell do you think you are doing Parasita?"
"Fashion Television is on. They are showing the newest Hot Culture collections from Madrid and Esparagus!" Theresa squealed.
"It's Haute Couture and it is showing from Milan and Paris..." Gwen retorted.
"But isn't there a city that is a vegetable?" Theresa inquired, batting her wispy eyelashes naively.
"That is Brussells you halfwit, and it's in Belgium. They arn't very famous for their fashion designers..."
"But they have good waffles! Oh and chocolate!"
Gwen made a big show of rolling her eyes dramatically. "Besides, what do you want to watch the collections for?"
"I want to be a fashion designer! It's always been my dream..."
"Oh really?" Gwen interjected, "I always thought your dream was to marry *my* ex-fiancee."
Gwen's cheeks grew scarlet with fury and Theresa's squirmed sheepishly. "Well, I still want to watch it..."
"Maybe we should watch it, it could give you some fashion sense. Been snooping through Britney Spears' dumpster laterly?"
Gwen wore a satisfied smirk as Theresa scrunched her forehead in annoyance. But, she maintained an aura of calm. "Whatever, I just want to watch something else. Your show is boring..." She made a face at the numbers whizzing past on the screen while a man in a stiff business suit droned on about the NASDAQ plummeting 6%.
"Well Theresa, this is what grownups watch. We can't all be braiding our hair while watching Teletubbies with our girlfriends, giggling about whether or not Johnny will call tonight..."
Theresa fingered the plait that weaved it's way down the length of her black tresses and the tendrils framing her face. "Well, I'm going to watch something else..."
Like Mighty Mouse on a mission, she snatched the remote from Gwen's lap and began flicking the channels. Gwen in turn attemped to retrieve it. But, for her current size Theresa still had a exceptionally strong grip. The television crackled and flashed a myriad of images, chanting along at the two women and their mini tug-of-war. With determination frozen in her gaze Gwen was finally able to gain the upper hand and the remote was released into her grasp. Not able to accept defeat, Theresa leaped onto Gwen's arm and seized her hand. Theresa's jaw clamped onto Gwen's index finger, her tiny teeth latching on to the delicate skin. Gwen howled in pain and waved her hand fervently in the air, frantically trying to free her finger from Theresa's clenched teeth. Theresa's tiny body flopped back and forth with Gwen's fierce movements. Finally, the prisoner finger was released from it's captor. Gwen jammed her finger into her mouth and nursed the wounded digit. She watched as Theresa soared through the air and smashed against the wall, and like a recently swatted fly slid downwards and slumped against the floor.
"Oh shit..." Gwen muttered around her finger.