The Blob
Part VII
With only four more competitors until Musty's debut, the minutes seemed to fly by. Blocky quietly prayed his blob would be able to take the pressure. However, had he truly been concerned for his blob, he would've noticed that Blob had fallen asleep prior to the good-luck speech Blocky had given it.
Blob slept quietly. It spent a lot of time sleeping. Had it had access to food, it would've spent a lot of time eating, too. But for the moment, sleeping would have to do.
Responsible Reggie led his Doofi behind the curtain after their walk down the runway. He wanted to take a few minutes to lower his competition's hopes of winning. "Break a leg, chumps!"
"Thanks!" Blocky responded, stupidly.
Snap, however, caught onto Reggie's sarcasm. "Break a leg? Gladly. How does yours sound?"
With an irritable huff, Responsible Reggie tightened his hold on the Doofi's leashes and stomped away.
Once they were gone, the topic at hand returned to the surface. "Just a few more minutes, Snap, and then you're on!" Blocky exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement. "Think you can handle it? Aren't you nervous? Excited?"
"Nervous?" Snap laughed. "Why would I be nervous?"
"There'll be all these people watching you... Watching your every move... Grading you on your performance..."
Snap scoffed. "Nothing I do could possibly be more humiliating than Responsible Reggie's little morons, or more unpleasant than Arvee's solo back there. I'd say Musty has a pretty fair chance. Hey, I'd bet even your blob would stand a chance against them in the actual competition."
"What do you mean, 'even my blob'?" Blocky growled. He stroked Blob affectionately, but Blob only recoiled in discomfort.
"Oh... nothing."
The minutes ticked by. As the clock struck noon, the number six was finally called, and Snap was urged out on stage by the backstage manager. Musty trailed behind the blue boy, through the curtains, and out onto the runway. Blocky watched them both with fascination, wondering what they would do to get the judges' attention.
Snap, of course, being Snap and all, hadn't looked this far into the situation. Without an act, a catch or even some kind of prior thinking, they blindly stepped around on stage. Regardless, Musty was an impressive sight; his hairy body had been groomed to perfection. The judges were undoubtedly awed. Blocky could've sworn that they'd given each other slight nods.
"Snap is already winning!" Blocky cried, distressed. "How are we going to beat him?"
Blob opened one 'eye', growling lightly. It glanced up at Blocky, annoyed, then stopped and stared a little longer; the more it stared, the more Blocky's head was starting to look like a graham cracker. A moldy, green, deformed graham cracker, but a graham cracker regardless. Subconsciously, Blob began to lick its lips...
"That's-a one-a fancy mustachio! Just look at that nice, even shave, folks! The judges look impressed!"
Musty began to receive thundering applause. Snap bowed on his pet's behalf (for it was one of his favorite things to do), grateful for the free publicity.
"Thank you! Thank you, fellow Zoners! You're too kind!" He coaxed the crowd, for that was another thing he loved to do.
Blocky began to hop up and down excitedly. His chances were quickly diminishing... but no matter what, he knew he would never give up... after all, it's what Blob wanted.
Right?
Wrong. Blob wanted food.
But in a weird kind of way, through a series of many loosely-related connections, winning the competition would give Blob food. Therefore, winning the competition would indeed be in Blob's best interests.
"Number seven!"
Blocky's breath hitched for a moment. That was their number... Their number! He gave Blob one final good luck pat, and they crossed paths with a retreating Snap and Musty as they made their way upstage.
The crowd took one look at Blob... and gasped, for it was quite the blobbiest thing most of them had ever seen in their lives.