-11-
The lighting and other festive decorations had turned out to be a much bigger fuss than Andy or Chucky had imagined it would be. If you asked the both of them at precisely what time they had gone to bed, they would both give each other a long and incoherent look before simultaneously blurting out two entirely different times.
And that is why, the next day, we find them still fast asleep, tangled about in the lush comforters of their bed, which kept them safely tucked away from the harsh cold air that settled throughout the house during the night. The alarm bell had rung twice already, but even Andy, who was usually quite the early bird, had pressed the snooze button with a strange sort of lethargic passion.
They awoke at about the same time- a rather eerie fact, may I point out- and all because Chucky sneezed. Andy came to the world of the conscious thinking that the sneeze had been more of a tinkling sound, and murmured out sleepily, "Jingle bells?" though if asked later, he'd claim he didn't remember exactly what he'd said that morning.
Chucky would confirm that Andy did, in fact, murmur out that exact phrase, and that he looked like a right retard doing so.
"Jingle your own fucking bells, Rudolph," Chucky muttered, characteristically grumpy, burrowing himself deeper under the covers until only bits and pieces of his ginger hair were peeking out from them. "Geezus, did you turn off the heat or something? I thought the snow was supposed to be outside- I didn't sign up for Winter Wonderland to be in here."
Andy snorted into his pillow. "Maybe winter just hates you, Mr. Grinch," he sang, earning him a kick in his shin under the covers. "Ow- just how far down under the covers did you hide?" he asked, diving under the covers to find where the doll had gone.
This, humorously, resulted in nothing near the intelligent sort of activities, and it was at least another good hour before Andy finally tumbled out of bed, calling out something about breakfast to Chucky as he walked through the door.
The phone was starting to ring by the time Chucky came into the kitchen, where Andy was frying bacon in a large old iron skillet. "Hey, can you get that?" Andy called, noticing that the doll had entered the kitchen.
Chucky blew out his breath angrily at him, but nevertheless climbed up onto the counter. It was quite a feat for such a small thing like him, and I'll let you in on a delicious secret- the poor thing was already a bit breathless by the time he reached the phone from where it hung, still ringing away loudly.
"Hello, fucker," he spoke into the receiver without even a single ounce of shame.
Andy, on the other hand, half-dropped the skillet he was holding.
"Chucky," he mouthed at him reprimanding-like, eyes wide and mortified. Chucky merely smirked and made a crude gesture at him in response before listening to the voice on the other side of the line.
His smirk instantly vanished when it registered who exactly it was.
It was my dearest friend Karen Norris, formerly Mrs. Barclay, but if you've kept up with our stories so far, you'd know that she'd been married to Mike Norris for quite some time now.
"Oh- hello," Chucky paused to try and hide from Andy who it was by muttering into the receiver, "Karen." He looked back sheepishly at Andy, who was near dying of laughter now, because Chucky's attempt to hide his blunder had failed miserably.
"A cheery little bell as always, aren't we?" inquired Karen brightly, who by now had grown quite used to the doll's antics. She gave a hearty little laugh, and Chucky's scowl deepened as he tried to hide his embarrassment. "I'd chat you up for a bit, but I'm going to take an educated guess that you'd rather not talk on the phone much. Could you be a sweetheart and hand the phone to my darling son?"
Chucky muttered some sort of half-baked response, but of course, begrudgingly handed the phone over to Andy, who set the skillet aside.
"Hello? Oh? Yes- I know, he's a riot. Why do you think I keep him around?"
Chucky rolled his eyes and slunk down off the counter miserably. He left the kitchen, more than likely to escape having to be in an earshot of every humiliating thing Andy was probably sharing about him with his mother. He scuffed his feet against the floor as he walked into the living room to glare up at the much too cheery Christmas tree that he and Andy had finally gotten put together after hours of fighting with the silly thing and its ornaments to look halfway decent.
He could still overhear Andy on the phone when the doorbell rang. "Oh, what the hell," he grumbled unpleasantly to no in in particular. Because of his wanting stature, it took him a good minute or two to finally open the front door, and this included the primary task of finding a box of some sort to stand on and then placing it just far back enough that he could still reach the knob and bring the door open at the same time.
Peeking around the door frame on the other side was Eddie Caputo, who, if you have been keeping up with Chucky and Andy so far, had moved in just down the road from the pair of them.
"What the hell?" Chucky had the most incredulous expression across his face when he saw his usually gruff neighbor in an actually presentable state. He was holding several wrapped boxes in his hands, and overall, looked rather silly to the doll.
"Shut up, Charles," Eddie grumbled back playfully. "Don't be such an ass, it's the Christmas season. Thought I'd be somewhat festive." He shuffled about before continuing. "You gonna let me in, or has your owner not house-trained you yet?"
Chucky growled lowly and gave a small muttering, "He's not my house-trainer," but let Eddie in nonetheless, only to hear the sudden ringing of the stove warning all who were inside the home that something was, in fact, burning.
"Andy!"
"Chucky!"
Both shouts rung at about the same time, and Eddie was cleaning off his boots from the snow. "That kind of a day, huh?" he asked, giving Chucky a look. When the doll only gave a heavy sigh, Eddie grinned almost maliciously. "Was it that kind of a night too, Charles?"
There was a furiously ringing howl in reply from the doll.