This Could Get Ugly

“Abuelita, Paleta Payaso, Bubu Lubu, Carlos V, Cremino. Milo, Monedas...” Mom continues her list.

“What is she saying now Dobby?” Tinkletoes asked, looking through his artillery case.

“I don't know. I can't tell.”

“Chocoretas, Mazapan, Manicero, Chips de chocolate, barras de chocolate, pastel de chocolate, donuts de chocolate, leche con chocolate, cereales de chocolate, cacao, chocolate, magdalenas de chocolate pretzels cubiertos, conejitos de chocolate...”

“That's Spanish.” Tinkletoes says “She must be continuing her list in to Mexico. She didn't immediately jump over to Europe, that's a good sign. It means the shock is growing slowly, probably because she currently has chocolate in her system. Her nervous system knows she is not in immediate danger. We have more time.”

“How does she know Spanish?”

“It's part of Chocolate Shock Syndrome.”

TP snickers behind Dobby's right ear. “Let me explain it to you my good man.” The fairy has changed from his Saturday Night with the Pixies clothes and is now wearing a lab coat, John Lennon style reading glasses and a faerie style Albert Einstein fro. TP lightly touches Dobby on his right front leg directing the orange tabby to turn and face what is behind him. The two face a large, green chalk board. TP steps forward to stand next to the chalkboard. “Dobby, have you ever heard of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?”

“Yes.”

“The condition your mutter has is worse. Not only does she have the physchological issues of PTSD but the physiological withdrawal of a drug addict. When she comes down from the “high”: raised blood sugar and euphoria associated with chocolate consumption her body will start searching frantically for more chocolate. If your mutter comes out of her “Call for Chocolate” trance she may become aggressive.”

“How aggressive?” Dobby asks.

“She'll become one Crazy Ass Bitch kitty.” Dr. TP says.

Dobby blinks in shock at the possibility.

“Put it this way kitty the way my squad and I survived a sniper in chocolate withdrawal was we told her that the military had implemented a new program that required soldiers to “earn” their chocolate. We promised her a chocolate bar for every target she neutralized. She completed a dozen high risk assignments within forty-eight hours. 98% of the shots were perfect-- immediate death, very little blood. She brought the bodies back with her as proof convinced if she didn't someone would try to short her a bar. It was strange she kept muttering about how my second in command told her the targets would ooze out a creamy center if she made the shot right. Of course there was no creamy chocolate center. That woman was pretty pissed about it too. I had to transfer my second in command out in the middle of the night. Keep this in mind, the sniper had just gone off her menstrual cycle. If she had been pre-menstrual I don't think any of us would have survived.”

“What can we do?” Dobby asks.

“Find her some chocolate.”

“I told you there is none.” Dobby stresses, wondering what language Mom is speaking now how much time they have left.

“I already texted an order of candy for immediate delivery. He can be here in three hours. So all we need is to find a piece of chocolate. Just enough that when she starts coming down she will have something to smell until the shipment gets here. She will be coming out of the trance. We can tell her what happened and that the reason she feels better is she just had some candy. You know; that everything is alright now.”

“We can't lie. Mom will know.” Dobby says.

“You aren't lying Dobby. You are just creating a small illusion to improve her immediate health and well being. When I was in the service, we did it all the time. Nothing bad happens.”

"Well..." Dobby hesitates.

“I'll tell her. Just go find something.” Tinkletoes instructed.

“Mr. T?” A small voice calls from a darkened corner of the room.

“Yeah.” Tinkletoes calls back, not looking up from his work.

“I think my dragon could find you some chocolate. Auntie says you may not be able to eat it though.”

“Auntie?” Tinkletoes looks up at the darkened corner. “Come on out of the dark and talk to me.”

A small tow headed boy comes forward. He is wearing jeans and a super hero t-shirt. His sneakers have the dusting of dirt covering them that can be found on most children's shoes. Standing next to the boy is what appears to be the strangest looking house cat Tinkletoes has ever seen. It was half the toddler's size already. A strange silvery gray in color with fur so matted looking he wondered whether the boy and the “dragon” were some kind of orphans. The boy's blue eyes are bright and widened, unsure of the big man looking at them.

“I know you. You're that kid. Dylan.” Tinkletoes says remembering their last encounter (see post titled “Taking Steps”).

Dylan nods quietly.

“That your dragon?” Tinkletoes asks.

Dylan nods again.

Tinkletoes looks up and sees Dylan nodding. “Answer me. I'm working here. I can't hear your head rattle.”

“Yes sir. He can smell things nobody else can. Furnatche has special worms in his nose.”

“Worms huh?”

Dylan nods.

“I can't hear your head rattle.”

“Yes.”

“I don't have time for 50 questions. Go look.” Tinkletoes commands.

Dobby and Dr. TP are standing next to Mom's chair discussing what may happen next.

“Is there any way to know how aggressive she may get? I don't want to be homeless. Mom is the only person I really like.”

“Does she have anyone who could be more important than you? Is she, um...dating?” TP asks gently.

“Mom? No.”

“She won't throw you out then, she will need someone to help her through this. You will have to be strong." 

 Dobby nods in understanding. 

“Tinkletoes and I are concerned about one thing though. What the odds are she will be pre-menstrual if there is the withdrawal and the inevitable aggression. When was the last time she had her...period?”

“I don't know. How does a woman act when that happens?” Dobby asks.

“What might a cat notice? Has she been yelling a lot?”

“No.”

“Cuddling you more?”

“No.  We have rules about touching.”

“Have you heard the word “Midol” recently?" TP continues.

“Nope.”

“Crying?”

“She's a girl. Girls cry sometimes.” Dobby answers getting bored.

“Recently? Over something stupid?”

“She's a girl! Hel-lo!” Dobby

Tinkletoes walks over to Dobby. "Seriously. Think for a minute."

“She did." The orange tabby confirmed. "Last night she watched a movie and cried a little. She never cries during that movie. She said the poor creature was misunderstood and probably just needed a hug.”

“Do you remember the name of the movie?” TP asked.

Dobby closes his eyes tight remembering, “Nightmare on Elm Street.”

“Sympathy for Freddy Krueger, that's PMS right there. Full blown.” Tinkletoes looks at Dobby and TP “This could get ugly men. We need to prepare.”