Part II: The Horror! The Horror!
It was noon on Sunday when Nakuru woke. As usual, she stretched, yawned, scratched herself (where she scratched herself, however, will have to be left to the reader's imagination) and jumped out of bed.
"Let's see. . . " she murmured to herself as she padded over to the wardrobe, "What shall I wear today?"
**********
Good God, what a cry!
Downstairs in the kitchen, Eriol dropped a vase full of flowers. "Gracious, what is that noise?" he hollered to Spinel.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Either Nakuru is in distress or it's an emergency broadcast test."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Well, we've simply got to stop it!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Agreed. My ears can't take much more of this."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"I hope nothing too terrible happened to the dear girl," Eriol said as he and Spinel dashed up the stairs.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"I wouldn't worry about it, Master. You know what a drama queen Nakuru is. It's probably nothing."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Yes, but this seems quite serious," Eriol replied. He stopped at the door. "Nakuru!" he shouted, banging on the door. "Nakuru!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"NAKURU! Please open the door!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"You'll have to break it down," Spinel yelled above the din.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Right." Eriol rolled up his shirtsleeves and squared his shoulders. "Here goes." Eriol went a few paces back and, running full speed, rammed his shoulder against the door. As Eriol was not blessed with musculature (he was not the beefcake type, but rather the pretty-boy type), this attempt was unsuccessful. Eriol swore—Spinel couldn't hear above the noise, though—and turned to his creation.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"I wasn't suggesting that you use brawn to open the door," Spinel said, well aware how deficient his master was in that area. "I was actually thinking of a battering ram or something of the sort."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
Eriol glared at Spinel. "Well, as there is nothing of that sort here, do you have any other ideas?"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Wait a moment." Spinel transformed and blasted a ray of ruby-colored light at the door. The door gave way and Eriol and Spinel—back to his former state—stormed into the room.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Nakuru! What's wrong?" Eriol hollered.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Yes, Nakuru, what is it?" Spinel chimed in, his brow creased with concern.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Nakuru, please, tell us what happened!" Eriol yelled.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"I don't think he can hear you!" Spinel bellowed as he flitted over to his master.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Nakuru!" Eriol pleaded, "Please, tell us what's wrong!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"If he keeps that up, he'll faint," Spinel observed.
This was true. Nakuru's face had turned into an unbecoming shade of purple. Eriol hurried over to Nakuru. "Nakuru. . ."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
"Nakuru!" Eriol thundered. "Please stop screaming and tell us what's the matter!"
Nakuru stopped and turned to Eriol, her eyes brimming over with tears. "E-Eriol. . .s-something terrible has happened. . ."
"What is it?" Eriol demanded, expecting to hear that "Judy and Mary" (Nakuru's favorite band) had disbanded or something of that sort.
"I DON'T HAVE A THING TO WEAR!" Nakuru wailed.
Eriol and Spinel crashed to the floor.
**********
Eriol gazed wordlessly at the orderly rows of clothing hanging in the wardrobe.
"Isn't this awful?" Nakuru sobbed.
"Who would do such a thing?" Spinel demanded, his tail quivering in indignation.
"I don't know. . ." Nakuru's bottom lip began to tremble.
"The villain who did this—" And Spinel looked awful threats.
"I-I can't believe that someone would do such a horrible, cruel thing. . ."
"There, there, Nakuru, don't cry," Eriol murmured consolingly as he patted Nakuru on the shoulder.
"B-but, what am I going to do?!" Nakuru blew her nose. "I don't have anything to wear today!"
"How did these clothes get here in the first place?" Suppi wondered, running a paw over a striped rugby.
"I have no idea." Tears began to gather in her eyes. "Last night, I checked to see if my outfit was in the closet and it was. But then, when I woke up this morning and opened my closet, I found all this. . ." Nakuru sniffed.
"It's all right, Nakuru," Eriol soothed.
"And I have a date with To-ya-kun today!" Nakuru bawled, weeping afresh.
"A date?" Spinel quirked his brow. "Since when—"
"Spinel Sun," Eriol warned. "I don't think this is the time—"
"Eriol, what am I going to do?" interrupted Nakuru, looking at him beseechingly.
"Well," Eriol said, "There's really nothing you can do today. I don't have a spare moment to go shopping with you—I have appointments all day. And I'm busy for the next week."
"And you don't trust Nakuru with the credit cards either," Spinel muttered.
Eriol shot his creation an admonitory glance. "Nakuru," Eriol continued, "If you want to go out today, the only thing you can do is wear these clothes."
"WHAT?! I can't possibly wear these—these things!" Nakuru snatched up a pair of khaki chinos and shook them before Eriol's eyes. "They're not cute!"
"Well, then I suppose you'll have to stay home today," Eriol stated.
"WHAT?!" Nakuru screeched. Spinel vigorously rubbed the inside of his left ear with his paw. "I can't possibly stay at home! I have a date with To-ya-kun!"
Spinel snorted. Eriol gave the tiny animal another disapproving look.
"What am I going to dooooooooooo?!" Nakuru howled.
"Nakuru, there's really nothing you can do until next week."
"But I have to go out! I can't stay at home all day! What will To-ya-kun do?"
"Probably weep with joy and thank the gods," Spinel said sotto voce.
Eriol ignored this remark and said, "Nakuru, there is nothing wrong with wearing men's clothing. I wear it all the time and—"
"But you're not cute!" Nakuru interrupted.
"Ah, yes, the crazy transvestite must preserve his image you know," added Spinel under his breath.
"Tomoyo would beg to differ on that one," Eriol protested rather drily.
"But Eriol, you really wouldn't look good in a skirt," Nakuru insisted.
"Oh, no, on that point, Tomoyo-san would definitely beg to differ," Spinel said emphatically.
"Simply wearing a skirt on occasion does not undermine my manhood," Eriol declared with dignity. "In fact, it only—"
"Skirts. . . I loved wearing skirts," Nakuru broke in sadly. "I looked so cute in skirts. But I can't wear skirts anymore. And I had just bought the most darling skirt. . ." She began to weep. "And matching platforms! With eight-inch heels!"
"That's a shame," Spinel said sympathetically.
"And it was such a perfect shade of lime-green—"
"A very good color," Spinel added, shaking his head regretfully.
"And I was going to wear it today!" Nakuru cried. "What am I going to dooooooo?!"
"Well, Nakuru," Eriol said, pausing to give Nakuru one last comforting pat on the shoulder before he walked out of the door, "I'm afraid you're going to have to decide, one way or the other."
"Suppi-chan," Nakuru moaned, "What am I going to doooooo?"
"Like Master said, you can just stay home."
"But I can't!"
"Then you have to wear these clothes."
"But—but—"
"Really, Nakuru," Spinel began, clucking disapprovingly. "You're not going to let this small mishap prevent you from going out today."
"But—" Nakuru cast a despairing glance at khaki-colored pile on the floor. "They're PANTS!"
"Kinomoto will be so disappointed." Spinel sighed.
"To-ya-kun?"
"Yes, To-ya-kun. And he was looking forward to meeting you today."
Although Nakuru was flighty, she wasn't dumb. A rational—though the term must be loosely applied here—Nakuru would not have trusted Spinel's words. Yes, she glomped Touya. Yes, she called him, "To-ya-kun." Yes, she placed obscenely large posters of Touya on her walls. But she knew that Touya would never have said he would be disappointed in missing Nakuru. But in her present state (and recalling that she had been screaming for nearly an hour—an act that probably deprived her brain of much-needed oxygen), Nakuru wasn't thinking too clearly.
"Oh, no."
"Oh, yes. Sakura-san said, and I quote, 'Oniichan told me he wanted to see Nakuru-san.'"
"Sakura-chan said that?"
"Would Sakura-san lie?"
Nakuru knew that Sakura-san would never lie. But that didn't mean that Suppi didn't. But recall that Nakuru wasn't quite herself.
"And I even heard Tsukishiro say that Kinomoto was expecting you today."
That did it. "Suppi-chan. . .h-hand me those. . .chinos, will you?"
"Um, Nakuru?"
"Yes?" Nakuru was pulling on the pants.
"I don't think you should, er, wear that with those chinos."
Nakuru looked down. "Oh, yeah, I guess you're right." Nakuru sighed. It was her favorite I'm-feeling-sexy-as-hell pair. A lacy thong with cute little bows that tied at the hips. But she couldn't possibly wear them. Sexy-as-hell panties would not go well with boring, un-cute khaki chinos. "Is there any men's underwear somewhere? I bet the sick freak that gave me these stupid pants probably left a pair of briefs. Pervert."
Spinel delved into a drawer. "You're in luck. Here," Spinel offered, popping up in a moment.
"B-BOXERS?!"
"Do you want briefs instead? I don't think I saw any there, but Master—"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
**********
"So, Spinel, what did you do with Nakuru's clothes?" Eriol asked a week later.
Spinel assumed a hurt expression. "What are you trying to insinuate, Master?"
"My dear fellow, don't try to dodge, you do it ill." Eriol crossed his arms over his chest and gave his creation a stern look. "Now, Spinel, what did you do with her clothes?"
Spinel looked all sweetness and light—an expression borrowed his master, of course—but Eriol was not amused. "Why, Master, I—"
"Out with it, Spinel Sun."
When Eriol addressed the creature by his full name, Suppi knew the gig was up.
"I used them to clean the andirons."
"All of them?" Eriol asked. "The andirons aren't that dirty."
"No," Spinel admitted, "I guess not."
"So?"
"I used them for other things as well."
"What 'other things?'"
"Let's see. . ." Spinel knit his brows in thought. "I also used them to wax the car, polish the silverware, dust the chandelier—Oh, and I used some clothes to wipe up a particularly nasty mess I made on the kitchen floor." Suddenly, Spinel grinned. "I also used her clothes for some other things." Like that hideous burnt sienna bustier that Nakuru would insist DID go well with his complexion. (Which Spinel stuffed with pleasure into the fireplace and doused with kerosene.)
Ah, the hideous-burnt-sienna-bustier-look. Eriol knew that look because he often had that look on his face whenever Nakuru wore said bustier. (He often cursed the day he relented and bought Nakuru that outfit. Eriol had no idea that she had so much stamina to beg for that long.) "Well, I guess there's no great loss without some small gain."
"Indeed."
"But you know, Spinel, that was rather cruel. You know how much Nakuru hates men's clothing."
"You were listening?"
"Of course—somewhat. By the way, I didn't appreciate that cold shower bath before my date."
"I know Tomoyo-san did."
Eriol ignored this remark. "Anyway, I think this has gone far enough."
"But at least I gave him fashionable clothing," Spinel persisted. "I may be mean but I'm not heartless."
"Yes, I suppose so."
"Don't worry about it, Master. It's only temporary. And besides, this will give Nakuru a chance to buy some new clothes."
"Ah, but that's precisely what I'm worried about."
**************************************************************
NEXT INSTALLMENT:
What came to pass. The end of "Suppi's Revenge."