It's nice to finally have something to show you guys.
Sorry about lack of updates.
c':
Hope the wait was worth it ...
As usual, reviews are pretty much love.
(also, sorry it's short. :'c )
Dawn of the Dummy
Midnight. God, he needed a drink. Arnold closed his eyes, pressing his palms against his lids before sitting up from his bed and gingerly padded out to the hall. The main bedroom - master bedroom if you liked - 's door was slightly ajar. Peering inside, Arnold squinted in the dark, adjusting his glasses. The huge bed seemed empty, save a small bump in the middle. Scarface was asleep, thank God. Arnold released a breath he didn't realize he was holding in before pressing on down the stairs towards the kitchen. The fridge was open, empty bottles, half eaten foods and trash could be seen cluttering the floor. Arnold proceeded on, flipping the kitchen's proper light on and closing the fridge's door. He opened a cabinet and sighed. All glasses were gone, no surprise.
Arnold looked around, grabbed a red plastic cup and proceeded to pour it's previous contents into the sink. The whiskey's light amber color filled the cup a third of the way. Pulling the cup to his mouth he allowed the liquid to slide down his throat.
It burned. He gasped, slamming the cup down. Closing his eyes, his mind drifted to a mere - he glanced at a clock reading 3:23AM - six hours ago.
[oo]
It was all fun and games. The house was alive with lights, sounds, music and women. Oh, the women. Gorgeous, voluptuous (not-too-bright) women. They giggled, squealed and clung to whoever they could find. Arnold was amazed a couple of these beauties had taken to both his sides, petting his hair, and teasingly played with his tie. And Scarface.
"Ooo, Arnie, he's so cute! Make him talk!
"Make 'im talk? You t'ink I don't know 'ow t' talk on mah own, toots?" Scarface snapped, making the two girls giggle.
"Arnie, can you teach me how to be an evangelist?"
"Uh, y-you mean a ventriloquist?" Arnold stuttered nervously fixing his glasses.
"Yah! That's what I said, right Kimmy?"
"I think so," Kimmy said, drinking the rest of her apple martini. Her friend bit her lip, fingers intertwining in the little hair Arnold had left.
"Whoa whoa whoa! Dolly, where's my attention, eh? Forget Arnie here, I'm da' good lookin' one!" Kimmy laughed, fiddling with Scarface's little black tie.
"Aw, we're making Scarface jealous Samantha." Samantha giggled, planting a kiss on the puppet's cheek.
"Dat's getta'." Wooden eyes rolled up towards Arnold, "See dummy? Da goils know what dey like." Kimmy and Samantha giggled. Arnold made a small noise, like a chuckled, and loosened his tie. "What say you two lovely ladies and I ditch the dummy and have ourselves a, er, private party upstairs?" The two girls giggled more.
"Arnie, you're such a tease." Samantha said, kissing his cheeck. Kimmy nodded, draping her arms across his shoulders.
"Lookit, dolls! Arnie ain't talkin' to ya's!" Scarface bellowed. Kimmy frowned, grabing the small puppet.
"Alright, Arnold. Enough's enough. Drop the toy." she muttered, pulling the wooden creation from it's perch on Arnold's knee and tossed him to the floor.
The party seemed to have stopped. Everyone quiet, looking at Arnold, Kimmy, Samantha - and Scarface. No one said a word and the silence was very uncomfortable. Kimmy shifted slightly as Samantha bit her lip, shrinking a bit closer to Arnold. The silence was broken by a low, almost primal, yell.
"Dat's IT! You got a lot o' noive to t'row Scarface, dade!" Scarface lay still on the floor, all eyes on him. Kimmy glared and looked at Arnold.
"Stop it, now. It's not cute!"
"Kimmy," her friend pleaded, reaching out to her friend.
"You're not seriously buying this, are you?" Kimmy snapped. She stood, walked towards the doll and kicked it. "See? It's wood! It's fake!" She looked around the room, realizing everyone was glaring at her. Kimmy's face fell white. "W-what?"
"Da doll t'inks I'm fake?" Scarface said, "Goys! Get 'er! I don't wanna see 'er again."
"M-mister Scarface?" Arnold stammered out, trying to plead, but couldn't get another word in.
"Shaddup, dummy!" Arnold looked down, content with the view of his shoes.
"Let go of me!" Kimmy yelled, being grabbed roughly by Rhino. Mugsy stepped forward, and began to tie her tightly, stuffing a rolled up cloth in her mouth.
"Sorry, sweets. Ya shouldn't have pissed off the boss." Rhino whispered, throwing Kimmy over his shoulder. Kimmy shriek, squirming in protest. No one said a word as Rhino and Mugsy exited. All was quiet once more as the sound of a car's engine roared to life.
"Dummy." Arnold jumped. "Ya jus' gon'a sit dere like a gump on ah log or are ya gon'a pick me up?" Arnold stood, Samantha balancing herself on the chair's arm, and hurried to Scarface's side.
"Sorry, Mister Scarface, sir." he muttered, picking up the wooden man and brushing him off. He noticed Kimmy's kick had chipped his face slightly.
"You let a dame do dat to me again, and you will be sorry Arnie."
"Yes, Mister Scarface."
[oo]
The party more or less died after that. No one really talked about Kimmy and Samantha left as soon as Mugsy and Rhino came back. Arnold looked down at the red cup and realized he had been crushing it. He uttered a tiny cry, and gently released his grip.
He wished he had the courage to stand up to Scarface. He wished he had stopped up. Dammit, it was his name! But, who was he kidding? Arnold couldn't even entertain children any more, how was he supposed to run a family? Scarface was in charge. Arnold looked at the bottle of whiskey and decided a cup was not necessary. Turning off the light, Arnold made his way back upstairs, unaware he was crying ever so slightly.