Stuff In Your Eye

Writer Lady calls to Dobby from her Big Writing Chair. "So what is it we're doing tonight?"

"You're writing Mom haven't you caught on to this yet?" Dobby asks in return.

"I know that. But what about?" Writer Lady asks.

Dobby sighs and rolls his eyes from his comfy spot on the couch, “I guess I have to do everything don't I?” he asks.

Dobby enters High Command, "Just pick something. Anything." He looks up at Writer Lady from his spot on the floor.
"Oh, just a minute kitty. You got stuff in your eye." Writer Lady says in an annoyingly high pitched voice. She reaches down to remove the offending goo.

"When I said 'Just pick something' I didn't mean that." Dobby says.

Writer Lady cleans her finger off with a tissue and disposes of it. "I know kitty but, there was stuff in your eye. You know I can't let icky stuff sit there like that."

“How do you explain the crap growing in the fridge then?” Dobby asks.

“That's different.” Writer Lady says, continuing her writing.

“That's stuff you eat. This is just gooey stuff in my eye.” Dobby says.

“See but, that is where you are wrong kitty. I'm not eating it.” Writer Lady says. She puts her hand over one side of her mouth as if sharing some big secret. “That's how the food gets that way.”

“Why don't you eat it?”

“Because I cook it and it isn't very good sometimes. So I shove it in the fridge. That's where inedible leftovers go to die. Besides, I'm hoping one day Tinkletoes will see it and decide not to visit anymore. Or better yet eat some of it.”

“You do know that by shoving the um...(Dobby coughs for emphasis) crappy leftovers in the fridge to die. They are co-habitating with your edible food?” Dobby asks.

“Your point?”

“The good flavors and the bad flavors are rubbing up against each other.”

“No they aren't. I tell the good food when I put it in there to stay away from the crappy stuff. Crappy friends equals crappy flavors.”

“You think the food understands?” Dobby asks.

“Of course it does.”

“Does it talk back?”

“Sometimes,” Writer Lady answers paling a bit.

“What does the food say?” Dobby asks.

“Don't eat me?” Writer Lady answers. “That's not creepy is it?”

“Yeah it is Mom. Just a little bit.”

“Oh...”

“I've been thinking. Maybe you need to get out just a little bit more often. Talk to other humans.” Dobby suggests.

“I see people all the time. I talk to people all the time.”

“Where? Who?

“At work. Grandma calls.” Writer Lady says.

“That's good. Let's mix it up just a little bit.”

“When?” Writer Lady asks. “For how long?”

“As soon as possible. Until the food in the refrigerator stops talking to you.” Dobby says.

“Really?”

“Yes Mom really.”

“But I go to the store every week there are new things to talk to all the time.”

“Mom...canned goods and oranges don't count.”

“Damn.”

***No oranges or other foods were talked to death during the writing of this blog.  No humans talk to foodstuffs of any sort in Writer Lady's home.  This is purely fictional there is no cause for alarm.  By the way, eat more produce because if you don't plants are sacrificing their offspring in vain.  Wait a sec...that was the apples.  The oranges say eat more cheese puffs because nothing dies to make that. This is just confusing.  (Sighs)  I'm done putting up messages for you!  Go back to the fridge!  It's past your bedtime.

Man Down

Tinkletoes is down. From his position, on his back in the middle of the living room floor, the odor stifling. Tinkletoes tries breathing through his mouth but that just makes it worse.

Dobby takes this opportunity to make himself scarce.
“Breathe Dragon pee stink through your nose...down you go. Breathe Dragon pee stink through your mouth you're gonna pass out.” TP giggles.

“Dylan, get that pee outside, Quick!” Peter instructs. “Don't spill. Furnatche stay with me.” Furnatche whimpers looking up at Peter, the dragon takes a seat by his side. Both look down at Tinkletoes. “Things seem to be a little better.” Peter says after sniffing at the air, lightly.  

 Dylan comes back in the house. “Did you spill?” Peter asks.

The four year old shakes his head.

“Go wash your hands.” Peter instructs. “Now what do we do about this?”

“Give him mouth to mouth.” TP giggles.

Peter glares at the faerie, then hears a loud slurping noise coming from the his right side. He looks at Furnatche in time to see the baby dragon's big wet tongue return to it's mouth. Peter looks down at Tinkletoes whose head is dripping with dragon slobber.

“Mom?” Tinkletoes calls out.

Furnatche smiles. His tail swishes joyfully.

Peter looks up at TP. Both work hard to contain their laughter.

“Furnatche licked you. You passed out. He thought he was helping.”

Tinkletoes reaches out wiping his face. Opening his eyes, he looks at the slobber covering his hand. “The dragon pisses and I pass out. The dragon licks me and I wake up.”

Looking at Furnatche, “You got me from both ends didn't you?” Tinkletoes asks.

The baby dragon nods with enthusiasm, tongue dangling.

“What happened?" Tinkletoes asks Peter, "Two tours of duty in desert terrain, things rotting everywhere and I have never smelled anything like that before."

“Furnatche's a dragon silly.” TP says.

“Furnatche's waste is special. If it doesn't touch anything organic it has no smell and disappears in seconds. If it makes contact with something organic then it smells.”

“A LOT! More than anybody else's. Even Daddy.” Dylan says returning from the bathroom.

“That took a while.” Peter said looking at his little brother. “You weren't playing in the water were you?”

“I'm four. It's what I do.” Dylan answers.

Turning his attention back to the mercenary, “Because Furnatche is from a different world his waste decays at an alarming rate once it gets the smell.  The more organic surfaces it touches the stronger the smell becomes. The smell becomes so strong it seems like it takes forever to fade. That's what Paige says anyway.” Peter explains.

Tinkletoes looks at Peter. “You know you'll do a lot better in life if you didn't listen to everything girls tell you. They're driven by their emotions. There are some situations emotions don't belong in.”

“Says the man whose feelings are hurt.” TP finishes.

Tinkletoes glares at TP.  “Just remember kid. Women are the enemy.” Tinkletoes says looking Peter in the eyes. He stands, carefully. “I don't let myself care about such things."

Tinkletoes looks at TP, “My idea didn't work, Peter's and Dylan's ideas didn't work either. What's next?” he asks.

“TP gets a turn.” Dylan smiles.

“Okay. TP fix this.” Tinkletoes says as he folds his arms across his chest.

“I will fix this and I will fix things for you too. I will need your bag silly man. As well as your helpers.”

Tinkletoes gives Peter a quick nod. Peter picks up the artillery bag. The two boys and the baby dragon make their way to the far side of the living room. There is a huddle. Lots of whispering and pointing. They get to work. Peter and Dylan use small pieces of aluminum foil and wrap them around the tips of the branches. The pieces were small and the work goes quickly. In the less than an hour the tree is covered in foil.

When they are nearly finished Dylan wakes Tinkletoes from the nap he's stealing on the couch. “What?!”

“Mr. T.  Wake up. It's done.” Dylan says smiling in the mercenary's face.

Looking over the small boy's head Tinkletoes studies their work.  “I can see that. Writer Lady is going to love that. It looks like a bright, shiny boat.”

“Or a tin hat.” Peter points out.

An evil laugh escaped Tinkletoes' throat. “That it does kid. That it does. I guess we won, didn't we?”

“TP's not finished yet.”

TP floats over to the shiny tree, using some dance moves that are probably way cool in the land of faerie, he coats the foil with a generous layer of faerie dust. The faerie snaps his fingers when the pyrotechnical boom goes off behind him and the dust lights up. The living room is filled with rich, luminous color. Everyone is transported from Writer Lady's living room to an outside ball room inside the two remaining walls of an old castle in TP's home world. “I used to play here when I was little.”

“Where is this?” Peter asked.

“My backyard.” TP says.

“Woooow!” Dylan exclaims breathlessly. Furnatche lets out a yip of excitement bouncing through the tall buttercups that litter the field around the ballroom.

“I want to play tag! You're it Peter! You got to find me.” Dylan calls running away.

“Is it done?” Writer Lady asks walking into the incredible sight that used to be the living room. She is followed closely by Aunt Purdy and Paige.

"Yes. It is. Brilliant isn't it?"  Tinkletoes asks.  "We didn't move a single ornament either."  

 TP glares at Tinkletoes. Peter too. Dylan and Furnatche hear the words and stop playing to look up at the group standing in the remains of the ballroom. 

 "The shimmering is beautiful.  Which I know has to be TP's work.  Thank you TP.  But the tree looks so different.  It reminds me of something.  Something that's just annoying.  I can't think of what exactly.  This is going to drive me crazy until I think of it.  But when I do..."

 "A simple 'Thank You' will do."  Tinkletoes says.

 Writer Lady responds, "Thank you."  

"Say, 'Thank you for doing it without moving the ornaments.'" Tinkletoes presses on.

"Thank you, for doing it without removing the ornaments." Writer Lady says speaking more softly and quietly with every syllable.

"You're welcome.  You can go do girly things in the kitchen now if you like.  Everyone is hungry."  

Writer Lady's face reddens, "'Excuse me?!"  

"I'm sure they are starving!  Let me show you that new recipe I was talking about."  Aunt Purdy says guiding Writer Lady into the kitchen.  

"He sent me to my own kitchen.  No man sends me into my kitchen!  If it weren't for Dobby."  She looks at Aunt Purdy, "Someday...his ass is out of here."  Writer Lady mutters, glaring back at Tinkletoes who is proudly reclining on the couch.  

"But not today." He finishes.

The Men Are On A Mission

Dylan's face grows red. Peter moves in between Tinkletoes and Dylan.

“What my brother was trying to say is let's each of us come up with a solution. Put them in a hat pull them out and decide what will work the best.” Peter says.

“No. No. That takes too long. Let's say what we think. Try it or decide not to. If it doesn't work go on to the next one.” Tinkletoes counters. “Besides. I brought my bag. I'm sure we can fix this in no time.”

“With a flamethrower?” Peter asks.

“Not the flamethrower, that would just burn the whole tree down. I don't have just the flamethrower in here. We'll find something else.” Tinkletoes reaches into the bag and pulls out a grenade. Holding it up he says, “How about this?”

No one answers.

“Okay no grenades.” Tinkletoes says, rifling through his bag.

“Sir?   Do you have anything that's um...not combustible?” Peter asks.

“Flare guns don't count, do they?”

Peter shakes his head.

“I didn't think so.” Tinkletoes says pulling MREs out of the bag. “TP can you make a crumbled MRE glow in the dark?” The faerie shakes his head. “Matches don't help either. Okay that's it. I've got nothing.”

“What if we just turned the lights up? Made it brighter?” Peter asks. “Of course. Turn up the lights.” TP says going through a series of elaborate steps including slowly turning around.

“You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around.” Dylan starts to sing and dance.  “That's what it's all about!” Dylan  finishes the song.

“What's with the dance?” Tinkletoes asks TP. It never takes you so long to do anything.

“The Hokey Pokey is my favorite—silly.” TP giggles.

With that, the lights turn themselves up, a lot.

“Wow.” Dylan says.

“That didn't help much at all.” Tinkletoes says.

“The dark spots are so...”

“obvious.” Dylan finishes.

“Wait a minute, you're four. How do you know how to use that word?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Paige!” Dylan answers with an eye roll.

“Dylan's right, our sister is smarter than most kids.” Peter answers.

Tinkletoes makes his way over to TP. “These kids just don't listen. I said no girls.”

TP mutters.

“So, TP.   Turn down the lights.” TP makes a sweeping motion with his butt. The lights go back to normal.

“What's next?” Tinkletoes asks. There is an eerie silence in the living room. After a moment, Tinkletoes feels something tugging at the leg of his pants. The mercenary looks down to see Dylan and Furnatche in front of him.

“Did you know my dragon pees?” Dylan asks.

“We all do kid.”

“My dragon has special pee.  It glows.  He has to go right now too.” Dylan says.

“Is it bright?” Tinkletoes asks.

“You can read by it.” Peter answers.

Tinkletoes studies the older boy for a minute. “I'm not going to ask how you know that. Let's give it a shot. Don't let this dragon pee until I tell you. Understand?” Tinkletoes says looking down at Dylan. The tow headed boy and the baby dragon both nod. “Peter you come with me.” Tinkletoes and Peter head into the kitchen to find an appropriate receptacle. Tinkletoes is opening cabinets and peering inside. “She uses that, that too. She'd notice this one missing.” Peter walks over to a cabinet at the opposite end of the room and pulls a stainless steel bowl off of the bottom shelf. “Use this one. Writer Lady only touches these to move them out of her way when she is looking for something else.”

“She won't notice something missing?” Tinkletoes asks.

“How many bowls are there?” Peter asks.

“Three.”

“There used to be eight. She won't notice.”

Tinkletoes and Peter make it back into the living room as Furnatche is whimpering in discomfort.

“Here you go kid. Furnatche can fill this up.” Tinkletoes says handing the bowl to Dylan.

“Make sure he only pees in the bowl, Dylan. If he pees anywhere else it could be like last time.” Peter instructs his younger brother.

“What happened last time?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Silly human. Asks silly questions.” TP giggles.

Everyone watches as Furnatche lines himself up to the metal bowl. Whizzing commences.

“What a way to spend a Saturday night, watching a baby dragon pee.” Tinkletoes says, waiting for everyone to agree. As the bowl fills up and the magical energy accumulates the room begins to glow. “It's glowing.” Tinkletoes says, studying the urine. “Is it sparkling too?”

“Yup. 'Glow and sparkles. Sparkles and glow. Dragons have been peeing and that's how we know'. We had training rhymes about dragons when I was little.” TP says.

Furnatche finishes his business and everyone studies their loaded weapon.

“I think if we set this under the tree the glow will bounce off of the lit bulbs and the glass ornaments. Let's see if it works.” Tinkletoes says.

Peter picks up the bowl gently setting it under the Christmas tree. The glow from the urine illuminates everything. The tree looks amazing.

“Gentlemen. Mission Accomplished.” Tinkletoes says looking around the room at the rest of the technical team. TP is gracious. Peter smiling. Dylan and Furnatche excited to have helped. Dobby is bored and scratching at something. “This was a mission for men, as men we were successful!”

Dobby is still scratching. He is shedding fur. One tiny strand, floats across the room landing in the bowl of dragon urine. Tinkletoes takes a deep breath in to make his final proclamation and leave the house a conquering hero when the previously invisible scent of dragon urine hits him full force.

It's Just Not Right

                                                  

“Oh dear me. Whatever is wrong with this tree?” Writer Lady exclaims looking at the Christmas Tree.

“You've been playing with the picture books again Mom, haven't you?” Dobby asks as he enters the living room. Writer Lady is standing across the room from her work scrutinizing.

“Well sweet kitty, Dylan needed to hear a story. There was nothing else for it.” She answers.

Dobby looks over at the young boy and the baby dragon sitting on the couch. There is a large stack of picture books piled up where Writer Lady had been sitting.

“They did help with the decorations. Where's your Christmas spirit?” Writer Lady looks at the ginger tabby smiling.

“For it and spirit? The effects are wearing off, at least. Where did I put that?” Dobby asks, pretending to look around. He pulls an empty box out of his pocket and opens it. “Sorry Mom, all gone, the box is completely empty. No Christmas Spirit.”

“Let me see that.” Writer Lady says, reaching to take the box from Dobby. Looking at the lid, it reads, Christmas Spirit The Hap Hap Happiest Catnip Ever. If this catnip can't make you happy, there's no hope. “Dobby. I'm disappointed in you. You act like life is all about you. Getting things.”

Dobby's eyes swell and fill with tears. “I can't believe it. After all of this time. You're finally getting it. I'm so proud of you Mom.”

“It's not all about you. Right now it's about this Christmas tree. Something about it doesn't look right. I can't tell you what the problem is. Tell me kitty, what do you see?”

“I don't see anything. Maybe if you turned on the lights.” Dobby suggests.

“The lights are on.” Writer Lady says.

Everyone exchanges glances, then looks back at the tree.

“Okay.” Writer Lady says. “We know what the problem is. That's good. It needs more lights. Let's get the ornaments off of it.”

Furnatche and Dylan get up off of the couch to help remove ornaments.

“Wait.” Dobby says.

“For what?” Writer Lady asks.

“Isn't there an easier way to do this?” Dobby asks.

“Let me see...” Writer Lady says putting her hand to her temple and concentrating. “No, there isn't.”

“You didn't even try to find a new way to do this.” Dobby says.

“That's because I know. I have learned this lesson already. There is no shortcut when adding more lights to the Christmas tree.”

“Did you ever have me before? Or Tinkletoes, Furnatche or TP?” Dobby asks.

“No.”

“Then you can't be sure there isn't a short cut.”

“Yes I can.” Writer Lady argues.

“No you can't.” Dobby counters. Walking to the far corner of the living room. Dobby picks up the Big Red Flashlight and shines it out the window. He turns it on. A bright message lights up the sky. It says: USTINK.

“What are you doing?” Writer Lady asks.

“Calling for the rest of my technical team. We are like those science guys. We are going to prove that you can light up a Christmas tree without taking off the ornaments.”

“You are going to disprove a fact with a team of guys who respond to a light up sign in the night sky?”

“They rock. You know like Batman.” Dobby points out.

“According to that sign they just stink.” Writer Lady says.

“No they don't.”

“Yes, they do.” Writer Lady argues.

“No Mom they don't.”

“That's what the sign says. I'm standing right here reading the sign.”

“That's not what is it says. It says: U Silly Tink.”

“This is signal is for Tinkletoes?” Writer Lady asks.“So what's with the signal? Why not do something simple like make his lightsabers glow at random intervals, send a message on his TV screen or put faerie dust in all of his underwear and make it set his butt on fire when you want Tinkletoes' attention. Something that would get his attention. You know something that works.”

“Mom you underestimate Tinkletoes.” Dobby says shaking his head.

“Really? He spends long evenings looking up into the darkness and pondering deep thoughts?”

“No but he spends many nights monitoring the night sky for UFOs. To keep us safe from all the Aliens.”

“Okay. One question. Does he buy the aluminum foil for his hats retail or does he get whole sale prices?”

“It's me. I always get my foil whole sale.” Tinkletoes answers walking in the living room.

At that moment, a flaming arrow flies past the picture window landing in the snow at the far edge of the yard and extinguishes itself. @#$%. A muffled cursing is heard from Writer Lady's driveway.

“Just a sec.” Tinkletoes says opening the front door and yelling “It's okay Carp. I'm here already.”

Turning around and coming back in the house with TP fluttering at his shoulder Tinkletoes closes the door behind him sheltering the living room from the cold. “That was Carp. I asked him to signal I was on my way. I got here first.”

“He isn't part of your “technical team?” Writer Lady asks.

“No. He is still fine tuning his core skills. No time for anything else right now.”

“Ooh. A specialist. In what?” Writer Lady asks, imitating a young girl ready to dish on some gossip.

“Undetectable Assassination Implementation.” Tinkletoes answers.

“That guy's a sniper?” Writer Lady asks.

“No. A bow and arrow are his preferred weapon. He is a Silent Killer. He will be anyway.” Tinkletoes answers looking at Writer Lady markedly. “What's the problem? I'm supposed to be on duty.”

“Look at the tree my friend and you will understand.” TP says.

“Yes. Of course. It needs more lights.”

“Mom says we can't light this tree up more without taking off the ornaments first.” Dobby says.

“That's because you can't. Everyone knows that you can't.” Writer Lady argues.

“Has she been like this long?” TP asks.

“All day.” Dobby answers.

Squatting down, Tinkletoes whispers in Dobby's ear. “It's a girl thing. Get her out of here and we'll fix it.”

Dobby nods at Tinkletoes who stands up and quietly stares down the tree.

“You look tired Mom.   I have an idea.  Why don't you send Peter in? You, Paige and Aunt Purdy sit at the computer and look at girly stuff. Let us men handle this.” Dobby says.

Writer Lady's face reddens slightly. She stifles a laugh, almost rolls her eyes into the back of her head biting her tongue. “Okay, kitty” she says heading into High Command. Giggling can be heard from the room and whispering lots of whispering.

“What's all that giggling about?” Peter asks entering the living room.

“Giggling it's a girl thing. It means nothing.” Tinkletoes says. “Come on over here kid. Let me teach you something.” All of the males in the house are standing in front of the Christmas tree in a half circle. Dobby, TP, Dylan, Furnatche, Tinkletoes and Peter.

“So what's all this about?” Peter asks.

“This tree needs more lights.” Dobby announces.

“Great so let's take off the ornaments...” Peter says, reaching out for an ornament that is hanging nearby.

“No. There's another way to do this.” Dobby says.

“We will add more lights.” TP adds.

“Without moving a single ornament.” Tinkletoes finishes. “Like a man would.”

Furnatche whimpers slightly looking up at Dylan. Dylan looks down and shakes his head to reassure the baby dragon that this mission should not be dangerous.

“How are you going to add the lights?” Dylan asks.

“I don't know...”

“Hell if I know.”

“We're screwed,” came out all at the same time.

“Sometimes when we have a problem that seems overwhelming Aunt Purdy” Peter offers.

“No don' go there.”

“I don't want to hear it.”

“Females are the enemy,” comes out this time.

“But Aunt Purdy!” Dylan exclaims.

“No Girls!” Tinkletoes stresses irately.