The Saturday Night Before Halloween

“Mom what are you doing?” Dobby asks walking to High Command and stopping at a tall white boot.

“I'm working on the blog kitty. What else?” Writer Lady answers.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Dobby asks.

“Dressed like what?” Writer Lady looks at her clothes. “Oh that. Thursday is Halloween. It is going to be too cold to wear this while I'm handing out candy. I'm wearing it now. It's inspiring.”

“A British flag dress is inspiring?”

“It inspires me to keep having fun. Also, I have been trying really hard to stay this size all summer. Just for Halloween. I'm wearing it a second time.”

“What if someone finds out?”

“Who's going to find out?”

“What if someone comes to the door and sees you like that?”

“Who's going to come to the door?” Writer Lady asks. “Are you expecting anyone?”

Dobby shakes his head.

“I'm not expecting anyone either. So it's fine. You know what I need kitty. I need lipstick.” Writer Lady gets up and goes to the bathroom. Returning to the computer, “Besides I need a picture for the book cover.”

“You're going to look like that in public?” Dobby asks.

“Not in public. There will be a picture. It will be public.” Writer Lady answers and keeps typing.

“Are you sure that's a...” Dobby asks.

“What should we do tonight kitty? A poem. A song. We can call it “The Saturday Night Before Halloween”.

Dobby reaches out and gently places a paw on the top of her booted foot. “Mom. You can't sing. Please don't write a song.”

“To the tune of another song maybe. Bohemian Rhapsody?”

Dobby takes his paw and covers his eyes.

Writer Lady looks at Dobby, “No?”

“No.”

“Well crap. Now I don't know what to do.” Writer Lady gets up from the Big Writing Chair. She goes into the living room and sits down on the floor in meditation pose.

Dobby follows her.

“Mom.” Nothing. “Mom. MOM!”

“What kitty?” Writer Lady asks.

“You're sitting in the floor.”

“Yes I know. I'm trying to meditate. I'm blocked.”

“Aren't there pills for that?”

“No kitty. My creativity is blocked.”

“Mom. I hate to tell you this. But sitting like that isn't going to help.”

“Sometimes a writer has to suffer for their art.”

“Trust me Mom. You're not the one who is suffering.”

“No one is here except us. The skirt covers all of the private stuff. If you have a problem with it go to another room.”

Dobby leaves, the room falls silent and Writer Lady is free to meditate. She is beginning to relax when she feels something being pushed against her. Between her legs is a pillow.

“Dobby what are you doing?”

“Covering you up. Sitting cross legged in that dress isn't right Mom.”

“Dobby no one is here. It's okay.” Writer Lady grabs the pillow and thrusts it across the room nearly taking out a potted plant. Dobby ducks and runs away.

A few moments later a piece of foam board is leaning against her crossed legs. Opening her eyes, Writer Lady reads the sign which says:

Do Not Disterb

This woman is suffering for her art.

She is kind, caring and modest (most of the time).

She is not a SLUT.

I know how she's dressed and how she's sitting.

Seriously.

Not A SLUT.

Thank you for not disturbing her.

SIN-cerely Sister Margaret Mary Magdalin Katherine of the Cherch.

“Dobby please! I told you there is no one here. Let it go.”
 

“Okay. Fine. I'm letting it go. You're on your own.” Dobby leaves the living room muttering under his breath. “She calls me high maintenance.”

 

“Trick or Treats!” TP, a large group of faeries and assorted pixies all appear on the floor in front of Writer Lady. All staring where the sign used to be. A sharp intake of breath is heard by all.

“This isn't a very nice trick not at all,” one of the pixies say.

“Hehehe...Writer Lady is such a silly human.” TP says running up to the offending site, snapping his fingers using a faerie size billboard with a screaming zombie on it to hide everything.

“Did you see that?” Another pixie said. “Her panties did not match that dress at all.”

“What was that stretchy stuff over her panties?” she continued.

“Panty hose.” A faerie answers giggling. “Control top.”

“Everything is under control here!” Another faerie chimes in.

“I thought it was a human chastity belt.” A pixie whispers.

“No you have to be seeing someone to need one of those,” a faerie giggles.

“Oh!” Lots of giggling.

“Let's just move on to the next room. Lots of fun to come.”

“You said it TP we didn't.” Giggling all around.

“I'm wearing Control Top because it was all the store had. Not because I need it.” Writer Lady yells as the group leaves the living room.

TP looks at Writer Lady with disappointment. “Halloween is good clean fun you said. It's for the whole family to get together and have fun you said. I brought everyone here so they could see what a good human looks like. Why we shouldn't pick on you anymore.”

Writer Lady looks at the floor in embarrassment. “I'm sorry TP.”

“We'll talk about this in the morning. Go put on some clothes.” TP says.

“Okay.” Writer Lady stands up and pulls down her skirt as far as it will go. The bra pops out of the neckline. At least the girls are covered. She quickly and quietly heads into her bedroom to change.

TP snaps his fingers. The living room is back to normal. The faerie flies into High Command to meet up with Dobby and the rest of his group.

Dobby watches TP enter. “Did it work?”

“Silly kitty. Of course it worked.” TP turns to his friends. TP snaps again. The room is empty except for the faerie and the cat.

Out Of The Closet...Finally!

“Let me try something more traditional.” TP says to Monitor Man. He flies over to Writer Lady and flutters in her space.

“Surprise! It's sexy Monitor Man. Come on. Wake up! You've been panting after this guy for years now. Say something.” TP's ears light up and smoke starts billowing from the top of his head. Looking back at Monitor Man he says, “She was just looking at a picture of you this morning and you weren't wearing a shirt. Take something off maybe it will wake her up.”

“Take off my clothes? Do you know how much I hate taking those kinds of pictures? It's one of the things I love about what I'm doing now. I get to keep my clothes on.. Most of the time.” Monitor man answers.

“There aren't any cameras here. Take off your shirt you silly man.”

“No.”

“Loosen a couple of buttons.” TP suggests.

“No, she has to see me as I am and not as that shirtless guy she was drooling over this morning.”

“Shoes?”

“Shoes.” Monitor Man repeats. “I rarely go without shoes. I don't think it will help.”

“Pants?” TP asks.

“Nope, I'm not taking off my pants either.”

TP flutters over to a darkened corner of the closet does a spin and flies back over to Monitor Man as a voluptuous Marilyn Monroe in a tight evening dress. “Come on baby. Take it off. Take it all off” and puckers up.

“NO!” Monitor Man shouts.

“TP what have I told you about making inappropriate requests of people?” Writer Lady asks.

“Not too?” TP says.

“What else?”

TP spins furiously losing the blonde wig, make-up and evening dress. When the faerie stops spinning he is wearing a dated school uniform and a Dunce cap.

“Just because I'm from the land of Faerie doesn't mean I don't have to be nice. Keeping company with humans is different than other faeries. Humans require more manners. Especially strange humans.” TP looks at Monitor Man markedly with the word 'strange' and hangs his head in despair, pouting.

“A closet is no place for a guest. Let's get out of this closet. It's cramped and you're practically standing in the litter box.” Writer Lady says to Monitor Man.

Turning his head, Monitor Man sees the litter box on the floor behind him then at the back of his foot. “That was pretty close wasn't it? About the litter box, there's no smell. I didn't know it was even there.”

“TP enchanted Dobby's tail. If he swishes his tail over the litter the odors get neutralized.” Writer Lady says leading Monitor Man through the bonus room, laundry nook and into the kitchen. A pouting TP flutters into the kitchen behind them. “Can I get you something. Coffee? Pie maybe? You're working now aren't you? Are you allowed to eat pie when filming?”

“Pie?...Pie is always good. I'm not hungry right now. Could I take a rain check?” Monitor man asks.

“Sure.” Writer Lady says blushing a little at the thought of Monitor Man visiting at a future date.

“I have to ask you something.”

TP continues fluttering around them. Hanging on every word.

“Our little friend? He's acting a bit weird. I thought he was okay at first. All this talk about me taking off my clothes and fluttering so close by. Is he? Does he?”

“Have a crush on you?” Writer Lady asks.

Monitor man nods solemnly. “He's supposed to get me home before Monday.”

Writer Lady smiles and a gentle laugh escapes her. “No TP doesn't have a crush on you. If he did you would know.”

“Comes on strong, huh?. Like Kathy Bates in Misery?”

TP flutters away from Monitor Man and behind Writer Lady's shoulder so Monitor Man and can see him. A sledgehammer appears in his hands and the faerie strikes the air, a blood curdling scream sounds in Monitor Man's ears.

“I'm sorry what did you say?”

“When a faerie has a crush on a person they usually end up in a gilded birdcage wearing nothing but a bikini. A loincloth in your case. The cage is locked in a castle tower.”

“With a dragon?”

“No silly man. We freed the dragons eons ago.” TP giggles.

“I heard it was a rebellion.” Writer Lady says.

“Was not.” TP counters.

“That's not what I heard.” Writer Lady sings back. “Besides TP's last crush disappeared from our world and was never heard from again.”

“He was interesting until he became uninteresting.” TP says.

“What happened when he became uninteresting?” Monitor Man asks.

“It was time for him to go.” TP answers. Monitor Man pales considerably.

“Where did he go?” Monitor Man asks.

“You don't want to know.” Writer Lady says. “Besides the Fae don't behave that way anymore. Especially if they want any more cookies and cupcakes.”

“Okay TP leaves...NOW.” The faerie disappears in a wisp of smoke.

“Those must be some baked goods.” Monitor Man observes reaching out to touch the air TP just disappeared from.

“You have no idea.” Writer Lady says winking at Monitor Man who raises an eyebrow.

“I'm sorry I'm not better prepared for your visit. I wasn't expecting company.” Writer Lady says walking through the living room fluffing pillows and generally fussing.

Monitor Man follows her into the living room, walks over to Writer Lady holds her hands still in his and says, “You have a lovely home” looking deep into her eyes. “May I see the rest of it?”

Writer Lady grows quiet. For a moment Monitor Man wonders if she has frozen again. “Of course.”

The tour ends in High Command with a long talk about Dobby, TP, Tinkletoes, Furnatche and the rest. He has many questions about the book and Writer Lady is thrilled to answer them. She has many questions about him and his life. He answers them with every kindness. He asks to see the sexy picture on her computer and teases her a little for drooling over the man he was years ago.

“I hope you don't get mad. It doesn't seem like you to me at all. But overall it is a good picture. Should I ignore a good picture just because there is all that naked torso in the way?” Writer Lady asks.

“No I guess not. Would you mind if replaced that picture?” Monitor Man asks.

“On one condition, you have to be at your most comfortable when you take the picture.”

“You're on.” He answered.

Before he leaves they take a picture together. The visit ends with smiles all around. Writer Lady stands at the back door with Dobby. They watch TP and Monitor Man get into the invisible helicopter (TP enlarged the yard a bit and put down a helicopter pad, temporarily) and head West.

“Finally. I'm so glad that ya-hoo is gone.” Dobby says.

“I don't know, I think he might be back some day. If nothing else we made a new friend. It's always nice to make new friends.” Writer Lady says, watching the helicopter lift into the air as Monitor Man looks at the new picture on his cell phone and the helicopter flies away.

And...She's Not Moving.

“What is he still doing here? Dobby asks. “You were supposed to be putting him back.” Dobby sniffs at Writer Lady. She makes no movement to show the ginger cat attention. “I knew this was going to happen. You broke her.” Dobby says glaring at Monitor Man. “Who's going to feed me?”

“Relax. I didn't break her. She just isn't moving...a whole lot.” Monitor Man answers looking into Writer Lady's eyes. “Not so much as a blink. That's new.”

“So Monitor Man, you have seen this before.” TP asks holding on to the edges of his lapels.

“Yes I have. I have a solution too. When people freeze like this after they see me, what I usually do is say 'hello' to someone else and they snap out of it. Dobby if you will?”

“Will what?” Dobby asks.

“Be an example for you mother.” Monitor Man answers. “Say 'hello' to me and give me a hug. Your mother will relax. She and I can get to know each other.”

“I don't even like you. Get someone else.” Dobby snaps.

“Don't worry, I can handle this.” TP says to Monitor Man. TP flies over to hover near Dobby's shoulder. “Dobby, let's look at the evidence. Writer Lady is your mother. It's just you and her. If you don't help wake her up no one will feed you again—ever.”

“You would feed me.” Dobby says to TP.

“You're okay for a cat. But you're really spoiled and high maintenance. If something happened to Writer Lady, my ass is out of here.” TP explains.

“What about?” Dobby asks.

“Tinkletoes? He went to a cupcake expo again this weekend. He is talking about taking jobs near the new cupcake district they are building in Montana. Or was it North Dakota?”

“I know. Furnatche will help me. We're practically bros.”

“If Writer Lady stays like this forever, the characters just become words on a page. They can't help you.”

Dobby looks at TP, then at Writer Lady. The cat reaches up and gently touches Writer Lady on the leg, “Mom?” Dobby's eyes tear up.

“Of course you do have another option.” TP says. “You could live with...Grandma.”

“NOOOOOOOOO!” Dobby howls with despair.

“Then you must help Monitor Man.” TP says nodding.

Dobby nods and glares at TP. Glares at Monitor Man.

“Okay. Let me set the scene for you.” Monitor Man says kneeling down to talk to Dobby. Monitor Man looks closely at Writer Lady then looks at where he and Dobby are. “Let's scoot in a little closer to your mom.” Monitor Man puts his hands on either side of Dobby's shoulders to guide the cat over to a new spot.

“You're touching me.” Dobby growls. “Mom doesn't even touch me much.”

Monitor Man pales for a moment. “Sorry. I'm just trying to line us up. That way she will see us clearly when her eyes start to focus again.”

“You really should be more careful when you talk to people.” Dobby says.

“You're kidding me right? I didn't do this on purpose.”

“You've done it before.” Dobby says accusingly.

“A few times.” Monitor Man says looking at Writer Lady in her frozen state. “They don't warn you about this in Hollywood. The paparazzi yes. The women tearing at your clothes yes. Not this. Never this.”

“Actors have their problems too.” Dobby says. “I guess.”

“Ready?” Monitor Man asks.

“Ready.” Dobby says.

“I have been ready forever. I have a date tonight so let's finish this.” TP says.

“Faeries date?” Monitor Man asks.

“I thought all faeries were male.” Dobby says.

“We are. But we sure do love to play with those pixies. Feisty little things they are.” TP says. (he giggles)

Dobby and Monitor Man look at each other. They don't want to know what TP has been doing with those pixies.

“So Dobby. Go back a little bit. Walk up to me. Look at me adoringly. We'll go from there.” Monitor Man instructs.

“Of all the...stupid...ridiculous...he is so annoying.” Dobby mutters walking over to his starting spot. “I'm not touching you...you big hairless weirdo.”

Dobby walks over to Monitor Man. Looks up and glares.

“That's looking at me adoringly?” Monitor Man asks looking at TP.

“He's a cat. You're lucky to get this much.” TP answers.

“Well hello.” Monitor Man says with his super friendly smile. “How are you today?”

Dobby mutters.

“It's nice to meet you Dobby.” Monitor Man says with an even larger warmer smile.

Dobby rolls his eyes. Big.

“It's so nice to meet you too. You are the greatest, most wonderful yummiest actor ever. I just want to eat you up.” TP's voice comes out of Dobby's mouth.

“Thank you. That's so nice of you to say. Would you like an autograph?” Monitor Man says.

“Yes. Please on one of my incredibly voluptuous breasts.” TP says.

Dobby's eyes enlarge. “No way! Not happening.” Dobby turns to go.

“What's wrong?” TP asks.

“I have eight nipples!” Dobby looks at Monitor Man, “You can't see any of them.”

“Dobby this is just role playing so Writer Lady will wake up. I was just trying to make it sound realistic. Saying things a woman might say. Things Writer Lady would say.” TP explains.

“I wouldn't say that. Mom wouldn't either. No one is touching any boobs or nipples anywhere in this closet. EVER.”  Turning, Dobby leaves the closet.

“This is never going to work.” TP says. Monitor Man quietly nods in agreement.

Stuck In The Closet

 

Dobby turns around and is nose to shin with Monitor Man. “TP I'm going to see Mom. I'll keep her out of this part of the house.” Dobby looks up at Monitor Man. “Stay Here. No checking Mom out, you're not staying.”

Monitor Man waits until Dobby exits the utility closet and slides open the closet door enough to get a look at Writer Lady. He watches her cross to Dobby's bowls and feed him.

“There you are kitty. I was worried about you. How's my best guy?” Writer Lady starts to reach down and pet Dobby.

His tail twitches briefly, “Come on Mom. I'm eating.”

“I'm sorry. You're so handsome I forget the rules sometimes.” Writer Lady apologizes.

“You forget every day, Mom. You might be getting old timers.” Dobby says between bites.

“Sweetie you mean Alzheimer's.”

Monitor Man watches and listens. “She talks to the cat like it's a person. He answers back. They understand each other. She is pretty though. I don't know if I can get past the talking to the cat thing.”

TP spins around, changing into his Clarence Darrow costume complete with comb over. The faerie clears his throat, “May I remind you sir, that you have also been conversing with the cat. You also spent four hours in an invisible helicopter with a faerie, a magical creature that isn't supposed to exist? You also talked the whole time.”

“I was nervous riding in an invisible helicopter. I was making conversation, keeping my mind off of what was happening around me.” Monitor Man answers.

“You invited me to your place for your annual New Year's Eve blow out and thanked me profusely for befriending you. You said quote, 'You, TP are the coolest, most interesting friend I have. I love you man.'”

“I say 'I love you' like other people say 'Hello'. It meant nothing.”

“You also asked me if I wanted to be 'Bros'. When I questioned the meaning of bros you asked me if I was interested in starting a(TP coughs) bromance. I thought you liked women?”

“I do. I love women. You still don't get what I mean by bromance.” Monitor Man answers.

“Be aware, sir that your hands are not clean in this. If our dear sweet Writer Lady is crazy then so are you. At least she doesn't get kinky.” TP says.

“I wasn't getting kinky with you.”

“How do I know you weren't getting kinky with me?” TP asks.

“I was too busy checking out her butt.” Monitor Man answers gesturing towards the room Writer Lady is in.

“So...(TP coughs) you admit that you intend to get kinky with our dear, sweet Writer Lady.”

Monitor Man pales, TP has backed him into a corner. Using the skills he developed after years in the public eye he quietly answers, “No Comment.” The closet grows quiet. Neither TP nor Monitor Man know what to say next. Monitor Man crosses the room to stand close to TP, and makes an appeal, “If anyone had ever told me someday I would meet a real magical creature...”

“Being...magical being.” TP corrects.

“magical being. I would have said 'No way' faeries,they aren't real. Then I met you. You brought me here. I am here in the middle of...”

“Illinois”

“Right Illinoise.”

“It's Illinoi.  The "s" is silent."  TP says correcting Monitor Man.

“Okay, in Illinoi. I am away from everything I know. The city, the crowds, the press. It's very nice. But I'm also hiding in a utility closet. There is a sweet, lovely woman just outside this door. I can't even talk to her. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a quiet conversation with a nice woman in a private setting? TP. You found me, befriended me and brought me all the way out here to meet her. Please let me meet her.”

“Dobby says “No”. She can't keep you.”

“Of course she can't keep me. I have a life, far away from here. Besides kept men are really boring. I know a few. Models mostly.”

“So what will happen if I introduce you to her?”

“I would say “hello” and talk to her. That's it.”

“How do I know you won't come on to her too?”

“I told you, I wasn't coming on to you!”

“But you said you loved me!” TP wails.

“TP what did I tell you about watching television? Keep the volume down.” Writer Lady says entering the utility closet, smiling. “I don't know what you're doing in this utility closet watching TV anyway.” 

Writer Lady sees him.

“Hi.” Monitor Man says.

Writer Lady stands there. Frozen.