Chapter Two

I didn't know why I had let Daisy paint me up and dress me like some doll she'd fancied at a local toy store. In fact I didn't know why I let her get away with many of things that she did. Maybe it was because somewhere deep down it was because I knew she was right. I really didn't give a shit about my appearance, or anything to be specific, but it wasn't like anyone was going to be seeing the real me anyway. The only ones that did were dead, well undead. And I really had no desire to wow any of their fucking pants off!

I waited for Daisy upon the last step to the front porch, alone with my thoughts. My arms were crossed at my chest and I'm pretty damn sure I must have looked awfully annoyed with the way things were going. I wasn't looking forward to any of the remarks, or stares that I was sure I was going to get thanks to this new look Daisy had so generously inflicted upon me.

I watched as a wandering German Shepard came walking up the empty street. It stopped, took one look at me, and ran off whimpering with its tail between its legs. My brows knitted more closely together and I slowly brought down my arms. I wanted to seem pissed, but not at the Anti-Christ level!

Sighing at the alleged plot that was my "life," I gazed across the street. Our neighbor, or better known to others as "Mr. Ferguson," was out watering his lawn. I wondered why a man would get up at nearly the butt crack of dawn to tend to something, which would eventually die anyway. At least, it would if I were touching it. I had never had much success with gardening. I had just about the same amount of luck as I'd had with animals. Just call me Death!

Ironic, isn't it? Even before I was reaping, I was killing innocent things. Was this it? Was this what I was? Was I born, or fucking reborn for this?

My first instinct was to ask Rube, but then he'd probably just hand me some line he'd read off the inside of some Hallmark card, or fortune cookie! The man was wiser than Yoda and I didn't feel like being straightened out into seeing things more clearly, or in a new light. I preferred to brood, or to be a bitch to Daisy, whichever came first… assuming she ever left the fucking house! I rolled my eyes.

Glancing back through the front window I could see her holding her compact and applying more make-up of some kind, or another. Not that I cared, but we were going to be late. Rube liked us to be on time and I didn't feel like listening to another lecture about how things had to be done and blah, blah, blah!

I turned back around to find that Mr. Ferguson was staring at me. When our eyes met, he jumped and quickly spun around with the hose to face the house. Had he just been checking me out? What kind of weird, creepy fetish had I just aroused in an eighty something year old man?

Disturbed beyond reason, I decided it was best that I didn't try to figure that out, as I heard a squawking from above, followed by the sound of something plopping onto my new, black Stilettos of questionable origin.

"Ah shit!" I cried just as I heard Daisy close the door behind me.

"Well aren't you just in a chipper mood this morning!" she said, as she came up beside me with a pink purse on her arm. "What is it now?" she wasted no time to question me, with annoyance in her sigh.

"Shit..." I said, looking at her with a wrinkled forehead, as if she were completely dense.

"Yes, I got that part, Georgia. Now elaborate; use bigger words! Communication, it's what separates us from the apes."

"Actually, apes can… nevermind!" I said, rolling my eyes. The last thing I needed was to get into a discussion with Daisy.

"Shit what?" she asked again, impatiently.

I rolled my eyes a second time, picked my foot up, removed my shoe, and held it out for her to see. "Shit," I reiterated.

"My God, Georgia! How did you manage to do that! After all the trouble I went through to get you those shoes! Do you know what I had to do?"

"Blow someone?" I asked with a polite smile. Daisy glared at me. It was just what I wanted her to do.

"Some may find your trademark sarcasm charming, but I don't," she said, bringing her face in closer to mine so that she could scold me with her eyes.

"And I should give a fuck because?"

Daisy silently fumed for a moment. "Fine! You don't care; I don't care! After all I've done for you. I've offered you clothing and designer shoes, I bring you the best products of make up that we have around, and I even let you live with me!"

My eyebrows both perked up. "Let me live with you? No, no, no, no!" I began. She wanted to feel charitable? I'd give her charitable. "As I recall, you were the one who just barged in and made yourself at home, and you stole my bed!" It was all coming out. I was letting words fly. I was not a fucking pin!

"I most certainly did not! Georgia, how can you even say such a thing? I was your guest."

"Who overstayed their welcome," I mumbled under my breath. Daisy didn't appear to have heard it.

"Let's not forget who found our current living arrangements," she so aptly stated. I wanted to ring her neck. If she weren't already dead, I'd put in a request!

"Found!" I repeated, "Mason gave us this place. You found nothing."

"Whatever, Georgia. I obviously can't change your mind. You are ungrateful and spoiled."

All I could do was stare at her and shake my head. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to let her know that no one messed with George Lass. I wanted to do a lot of things, but instead all that came out was, "Whatever."


After cleaning off my shoe, I stood outside the door to Der Waffle House, staring at it. Maybe if I looked hard enough it would just go away? Sure my logic was a bit skewed, but then what else could an ungrateful, spoiled person hope for? I was fucked, and I wasn't looking forward to going in there. It wasn't that I was afraid. I just didn't want to face them, or anyone for that matter. I didn't like the stares, or remarks I was getting and I was certain there would be more to come the moment I stepped through that door.

My mind flashed back to Mr. Ferguson and his hose. He was standing there, stroking it rather erotically on the front lawn…

"You know, if it were a snake it would bite you!"

"Huh?" I jumped and turned my head to the right only to find that Satan, a.k.a. Daisy, was waiting beside me. I looked at her like I didn't know what the hell she was talking about, which I didn't, unless she had been reading my mind, and in that case, that was just fucking sick.

"The door! Honestly, Georgia, I don't know how you get around sometimes. Half the time it's like you don't even hear what I'm saying. I've only ever wanted to help you. We could be good friends if you would just let me in."

I still looked at her as though I had no clue what she was talking about, but actually I felt a little more enlightened.

So… Daisy thought I was some sort of project then? Some lost soul she could save? Well, fuck me.

"Come, it's time we showed the others the new, improved, Georgia Lass!" she announced, spreading her fingers apart and displaying her hands up in the air as though she were fucking Vanna White.

I sighed and pushed open the door, but the moment I walked in and saw Rube glancing up at me, I spun around to hide. Daisy was right there to turn me about. I defied her and kept my head down, allowing my hair to cover my face…

"Hey, Daisy, who's your friend?" asked Roxy, casually from the booth. I moved my eyes up just enough so that I could see her, but someone else caught my attention: Mason. There he was, turned around in his seat and looking at me with a smile on his face.

I wanted to be pissed off, after all, this was all Daisy's doing, but instead I felt kinda… flattered, and for some unknown, rebellious reason, the sight of Mason looking me up and down made my stomach tie in knots and flutter… perhaps I had inhaled far too much hairspray.

I was stood there in a formfitting, white dress with red flowers. It came down to just above my knees and my legs were left bare. My hair was down, but in waves in order to "give it some volume," and my eyes were done up with a light, pinkish color to match my lips. This was not me. I didn't know where me had gone. I felt awkward and misplaced. I rolled my foot onto its side, as I tried not to make any eye contact, but just when I thought that my luck couldn't get any shittier, I noticed Mason tapping Roxy on the shoulder.

In her usual friendly manner, she slid out from the booth after rolling her eyes, and allowed him to get out. He immediately headed my way.

"Daisy, well come on! Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asked, just as I brought my head up and smiled kinda awkwardly. My hand came up to give a weakly wave.

"Hi… It's me!" I said as though I had lost all capacity for speech. Mason's eyes widened and he appeared stupefied for a moment. To be honest, I think I broke him.

"Jesus, George! I thought you were a girl!" he cried out at last, albeit, not the most charming thing to say…

"Uh, Mason… I am a girl," I pointed out.

"Well you know what I bloody mean!" he said, tilting his head to the right and looking at me again. "Wow…You, you look… different."

"You state the obvious," I remarked, before walking past him to the table. I scooted in next to Rube; Daisy followed, sitting beside Roxy.

"New look, Peanut?" asked Rube, as he glanced at me a moment, before pulling off a Post-It.

"One that belongs back on the shelf," I said with my usual lack of enthusiasm. I noticed Mason was still standing away from us, staring at me, but when I looked at him he shot his hand up and scratched the back of his head and averted his eyes to the floor.

"You're right, it does need a bit more work, but I didn't have much time," explained Daisy… Good old Daisy… Good at pissing me off Daisy!

"For you," Rube interrupted my thoughts by forcing a Post-It in my face. He stuck it to my forehead and then grabbed one for Roxy and Daisy. They each took theirs, read them, and glanced at the clock, while I pulled my Post-It from my head.

"I've got to go; time for work. If I don't get on the streets by nine they'll have my head," said Roxy, grabbing her hat.

Daisy sighed. "I am absolutely starved, but I have to do this guy in half an hour."

"Do?" asked Mason, finally joining the ranks. "It's a bit early for you, isn't it? I thought you at least waited 'til noon for a good head job."

"If you were hoping to be fit in, I'm sorry. I can't spare the fifteen seconds," came back Daisy with a rather kind smile. I mildly disliked her less…

"Fuck off!" cried Mason.

"You'd like that too much," she retorted, getting up from the booth and looking at me. "Georgia, you take better care of those shoes. Now…" she said, turning to the rest of them, "I must bid you all adieu."

Gracefully, she bowed out, ignoring Mason as she walked by. Roxy then rose from her seat.

"Like she said."

Mason, Rube and I were now left alone. Mason took a seat across from us, slouching down and tapping his fingertips on the table, rapidly.

"By the way, you look nice," added Rube, as he handed Mason his Post-It. Something inside me couldn't help but to smile, but instead I said,

"I feel like Frankenstein's monster in this get up."

"Actually, George, you look, you look very… nice," Mason commented while avoiding all eye contact with me. I lifted an eyebrow.

"Nice? Are you saying you actually like me like this?"

"Well I'm not saying it's repulsive," he said, finally looking at me for a second. I was strangely disappointed with his answer.

"The both of you have appointments across town today. If I were you, I'd get moving," cautioned Rube, as he forked another piece of his eggs and ate it.

"Are they in the same place? Here, let me have a look at yours," said Mason, reaching out for my Post-It. Our fingers brushed for a moment, causing us both to make nervous eye contact. Why did I suddenly feel so weird around him? It wasn't like he was anyone special. He was… Mason.

"Hmm, both at the museum…" he muttered, before holding mine out to me. I took it, just as Mason jumped up from the booth, appearing rather excited. "Alright! In for an another whirlwind adventure, George of mayhem and death?"

I sorta smiled. "You're on something again, aren't you?"

"No!" he said, looking hurt. "I'm offended that you could even ask such a thing! I have rules you know. I have… s-standards!" I saw Rube give him a look. "Alright! Maybe I took one… or two… or five…" he confessed finally.

"Uh huh…" I found myself saying, before Rube cut in.

"How many times do we have to have this talk? When you're fucking working, you lay off the happy pills, do I make myself clear? I don't care that you use it; you couldn't possibly make yourself anymore fucked up, but not during working hours. You're on my clock. Now get out of here, before you really piss me off."

Mason appeared as though he wanted to say something, but he thought twice about it and shook his head. I remembered our conversation that one day when he said that Rube was like a volcano, spewing lava onto the little villagers. At least he still had the good sense to remember that.

"Come on, George. Let's get out of here before old piss bucket tells me next I can't shag while I'm out on the job as well!"

Or I could have been wrong… My eyes got slightly huge and I looked between them both, before getting up.

"Keep an eye on him, will you, Peanut?" asked Rube, "Else I have to enforce some new rules by shoving my foot up his ass." He looked directly at Mason when he said this.

"Y-yeah… I'll watch him. Don't worry," I told him, nodding like an idiot. I wasn't even going to say it. I knew it would. This day would be getting much worse.