Tinkletoes Does It With His Boots On

“You have rules? For being a guy?” Carp asks.

“Sure. Doesn't everyone?” Tinkletoes answers.

Carp looks at Mr. Donut. Mr. Donut looks at Carp.

Looking back at Tinkletoes, “So what are these rules?” Carp asks.

“Daylight's a burnin'.” Tinkletoes answers.

Carp and Mr. Donut wait.

“We don't have time for this.”

Silence.

“I'll give you a couple while Mr. Donut throws the knife some more. Then we're moving on to the guns.”

Carp and Mr. Donut nod. Pulling another combat knife out of it's sheath Tinkletoes hands it to Mr. Donut. “Take your time, aim.” He instructs.

“Rule One. If you kill it you gotta eat it.”

Mr. Donut throws the knife. It gets lodged in the spot aimed for but only momentarily falling from the trunk seconds later.

“That was good Sweets. Try it again. This time put a little more power into the throw.” Tinkletoes says.

Mr. Donut throws again. This time the knife stays put.

“Rule Two. Be good to your mom. She pushed you out. That shit hurts.” Tinkletoes continues. “No one suffered like my mom but you get the idea.” He takes another knife out of its sheath and hands it to Mr. Donut.

“You are a big man.” Mr. Donut agrees.

“Big baby too.” Tinkletoes says. “The worst part.” He says, unsheathing another knife, Tinkletoes takes the point of the blade and pokes it into the sole of one of his combat booted feet. “I was born wearing boots. Steel toe. The woman never could quite hold her bladder after that.”

Mr. Donut listen intently. Nodding the entire time.

Carp hides his face in his hands.

“Rule Three. Women are the enemy. Never tell them your plans, show them your weaknesses or talk about your feelings. They will use it against you every day for the rest of your life.”

“Doesn't that contradict with rule number two?” Carp asks.

“Mom's not a woman.” Tinkletoes says handing his last knife to Mr. Donut. “I don't know what you're talking about sometimes Carp.”

Mr. Donut throws.

“Perfect.” Tinkletoes says, taking a handgun out of his bag. “This is a handgun. It's a semi-automatic...”

“What else do you have in the bag?” Mr. Donut asks pointing to the bag between them. “Rifles? I'd like to try an M-16. How about an Uzi? Do you have one of those?”

Looking at Tinkletoes, Carp says, “He seemed so quiet at first.”

“This is a semi-automatic.” Tinkletoes continues.

“Hi.” Mr. Morely says coming over from his backyard to where Mr. Donut, Carp and Tinkletoes are standing.

“Hi Mo. Long time no see.” Mr. Donut says.

“Two years. What are you two gentlemen doing today?” Mr. Morely asks.

“This is my new friend Tinkletoes. We're doing Guy Things.” Mr. Donut whispers. “He's got guns, knives and live ammo. It's the Fourth of July. We're making some noise.”

“Really?” Mr. Morely asks, his eyes lighting up.

Mr. Donut nods.

“That does sound fun. Can I play too?” He asks.

“These are live weapons men. We aren't playing around. These are real skills I'm teaching. Survival skills.” Tinkletoes says.

Mr. Donut nods in agreement. “He already taught me how to throw a knife. Brained a squirrel too.” He shares proudly.

“That's pretty nifty if I do say so myself.” Mr. Morely says. “Pret-ty Nif-ty. So may I?” Mr. Morely asks gesturing to the weapons.

Tinkletoes and Carp exchange glances.

“Sure. You can have a turn.” Tinkletoes says.

“I'm going to get changed and call the guys.” Mr. Morely says. “I'll be right back.” He turns around and shuffles back into his house.

“I get all the turns until you get back. So don't hurry.” Mr. Donut says. “No girls allowed!” He calls. “This is man stuff.” Mr. Donut smiles giving Tinkletoes and Carp a wink.

Guiding Carp a few steps away from Mr. Donut, “What just happened here?” Tinkletoes asks.

“I think we just became the chaperones for this town's first ever survival camp for old farts.” Carp says.

Tinkletoes looks at Carp waiting for more information.

“The old men are having a play date. We just got drafted to supervise.” Carp explains again.

A light dawns and Tinkletoes' smile fades.

“But I was gonna...” Tinkletoes says.

“Not anymore.” Carp answers.

“I wanted to...”

“You can't now.”

“What about?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Not gonna happen.” Carp says.

“It's the Fourth of July. It's my Fourth of July.” Tinkletoes points out.

Carp shakes his head.

“Well crap.” Tinkletoes says hanging his head.

“Don't worry Tink.” Carp says patting Tinkletoes on the back, “You'll get 'em next time.”

Turning back around the self-proclaimed mercenary and the assassin in training find Mr. Donut gazing adoringly at an Uzi which is laying across the palms of the 94 year old man's hands. His eyes open wide, face alight with excitement.  He is wearing a huge grin.

“I knew you had an Uzi.” Mr. Donut beams. “I just knew it.”

Tinkletoes and Carp both pale.

“I do.” Tinkletoes says.

Carp leans over to Tinkletoes and whispers, “That isn't loaded is it?”

“It is.”

“Oh no.”

“It's a reconditioned unit I got from a friend. It had too much of a hair trigger for the previous owner. My friend tried to fix it but...”

“He couldn't?”

“So he sold it to me. Because I'm so good with guns. He knew it would be safe with me.” Tinkletoes finishes.

“I know I feel safe right now.” Carp says.

Tinkletoes glares at Carp.

“Sweets, let me tell you a little bit about this gun.” Tinkletoes calls approaching Mr. Donut.

“Pow. Pow. Pow!” Mr. Donut says pointing the Uzi to the tree on the other side of Writer Lady's yard.

Making up the distance Tinkletoes walks around Mr. Donut to come up behind the old man. Covering Mr. Donut's hands with his own he starts teaching him about Uzis. What's different about them. What is dangerous about them.

“Sweets!” Several men call from the farthest reaches of the backyard. Turning to look at them everything moves to the south including the firing end of the Uzi, Mr. Donut accidentally hits the trigger. A rain of bullets can be heard tearing through metal. Everyone ducks.

“Let go of the gun.” Tinkletoes yells over the noise. He and Mr. Donut let go and the gun falls to the ground.

Everyone stares in stunned silence at what used to be Writer Lady's shed.

Guy Things

“I'm a little deeper man. I'm a guy.” -- Duncan “Sweets” Donut.

“It's okay Mr. Donut, you don't have to tell everyone. They know.” -- Carp

“What should we do first?” Mr. Donut asks.

“You are our guest Mr. Donut. What would you like to do first?” Carp asks.

“Don't call me Mr. Donut. We're friends. No...wait.” Mr. Donut lowers his voice, “We're all guys. Call me “Sweets” or “Duncan.”

“Okay...Sweets. What would you like to do on your first day as one of the guys?” Carp asks.

“Yeah. A man gives up a lot when he gets married. You said Mrs. Donut wouldn't let you hunt. Let me show you how to fire a gun. We'll have you tearing things up like Rambo in no time.” Tinkletoes says reaching for Mr. Donut's arm.

“Actually there is one thing I'd like to do. I have not done it on my own terms in 47 years. It would feel so good to do it again.”

“I thought you said you couldn't do that stuff anymore.” Tinkletoes says.

“It's not that. Mrs. Donut and I had a grand time while she was alive. This is something else. It's a little embarrassing.” Duncan Donut grabs Carp by the arm and whispers in his ear.

Carp laughs for a second. “No Sweets we're all guys here. You can do that.”

“When should I?”

“Whenever you want to.” Carp says.

“Should I warn you first?” Mr. Donut asks.

“No just let her rip.” Carp says.

Mr. Donut concentrates for a moment and lets out a gentle toot! He blushes waiting to be reprimanded. “Okay. I'm done.” He says. “How liberating.” He announces with a smile.

“You're telling us you haven't farted in 47 years?” Tinkletoes asks.

“I have but never in this house. Never in the presence of a lady. I was encouraged as a boy that controlling where and how often I um...'broke wind' was my duty as a gentleman.”

“Even the little farts like that one?” Tinkletoes asks.

Mr. Donut nods.

“I wouldn't let no woman tell me when I could fart.” Tinkletoes says.

“You have nothing to worry about. Women don't get that close.” Carp points out.

“Writer Lady doesn't have a problem with me.” Tinkletoes says.

“You don't act the same around her. You shower and shave. You won't eat beans if you know you're going to see Dobby the next day.” Carp says.

“It sounds like he likes her.” Mr. Donut says teasing.

“He does.” Carp says.

“Does she like him?” Mr. Donut asks.

“If you listen to what she says, she tolerates him.” Carp says.

“I knew it.” Tinkletoes says. “I'm growing on her. Just like a tumor.” He smiles.

“Then he opens his mouth.” Carp says.

“What?” Tinkletoes asks. “I don't know why we're wasting time talking about women anyway. Daylight's a burnin'. It's time to blow something up.” He says walking out the front door, the dress' skirt fluttering along the top of his calves.

Tinkletoes' artillery bag hits the grass in Writer Lady's back yard with a thud. “Now this is what I'm talkin' about. This is how a man is meant to spend the Fourth of July.” He says. Tinkletoes is back in his camouflage and combat boots, the dress he was wearing minutes before just a memory. Unzipping the bag, Tinkletoes spreads a blanket on to the grass then he starts pulling guns, knives and ammo out and setting them down on the blanket. Mr. Donut picks up a grenade, throwing it into the air. Tinkletoes reaches out and catches it. “This is a grenade. It's not a toy. Don't throw it around like that.”

“I thought that's what we were here for.” Mr. Donut says.

“We are. But you're not ready for the grenades yet.”

Mr. Donut picks something else up.

“Nah...ah...ah. That's a flame thrower. You're not ready for that either.” Tinkletoes says taking the weapon from him. “We'll start with something simple.” Tinkletoes takes a knife out of his bag and unsheathes it. “This is a combat knife.” Tinkletoes says, handing it to Mr. Donut. “I want you to throw it at that tree.” He instructs pointing to an oak on the far side of the yard. “We can check out your aim.”

Holding his arm up, Mr. Donut tosses the knife. It ricochets off of Writer Lady's shed and hits a squirrel across the back of the head. The squirrel falls from it's perch on side of the tree, landing on the ground.

“How's it going?” Carp asks as he enters the back yard.

“There's good news and bad news.” Mr. Donut says. “My aim isn't very good.”

“No it isn't. His aim is so bad he bagged a squirrel. First try.”

Coming to, the squirrel raises its head and looking around runs up the tree it had fallen off of moments before.

“You didn't want to eat that did ya?” Tinkletoes asks. “That is my first rule of being a guy. If you kill something you gotta eat it.”

I'm Missin' Your Support Hose

“How long is this gonna take?” Tinkletoes asks after the first thirty minutes.

“I don't know.” Carp says. “I think he said something about having a guitar stand in every room of the house.”

Mr. Donut shuffles past them without a word on his way to the bathroom. Going inside he shuts the door behind him.

“Here's our chance. Let's split.” Tinkletoes says.

“Eureka!” Mr. Donut calls.

“See.” Tinkletoes says, “Now we're gonna have to listen to stories about his bowels and shit.”

“Is it necessary to repeat yourself?” Carp says.

“Huh?”

Mr. Donut opens the bathroom door. “Eureka! I found my guitar. This was the last place I was playing it.”

“You mean you play guitar while you're...” Tinkletoes asks.

“I'm 94. Some things take a while.” Mr. Donut says shuffling into the bedroom. He is carrying a shiny ebony guitar with a customized black leather strap that says 'Sweets' on it. Reaching into the hollow of the guitar he pulls out a small stack of papers. “This is it. A culmination of 70 years work. This has been brewing since I was fourteen years old and I got my first secondhand guitar. I remember the first time I heard “Too Late To Worry Too Blue To Cry”. I knew country music was a part of me. I was meant for it like it was meant for me.” He slowly hands his treasures to Carp, who carefully accepts them. As Carp and Tinkletoes read over the paperwork Mr. Donut keeps talking about his work. “I have never had the lyrics come together like this before. I have six songs so far. How long are records these days?” He asks. “I've never heard anything like my songs on the radio either. I think I might have something here.”

Carp and Tinkletoes read the list. Their faces go from shock, to surprise, to stifled laughter and back again.

“Are you having trouble reading it? I have trouble writing things down clearly sometimes.” Mr. Donut asks.

“No we, we can read it.” Carp says.

“You have to read it out loud sometimes in order to get the full affect.” Mr. Donut says.

“That's a good idea.” Tinkletoes says. “Why don't you read it out loud Carp?”

“I don't think...”

“Read it. Out Loud.” Tinkletoes repeats.

“Okay.” Carp says, paling a little. “Let's see what we have here. “1. Sweet Rainbow Sprinkles. 2. She Couldn't Be Crueller. 3. Donut Man. 4. I Miss The Rustle Of Your Depends 5. I Wear Your Cold Cream To Bed.” and “6. I'm Missin' Your Support Hose.”

“Support Hose is the one I'm the proudest of. Let me play that for you first.” Mr. Donut says bowing his head and adjusting the strings on his guitar.

Tinkletoes' face turns red with stifled laughter.

Carp glares at Tinkletoes.

“It's his best song Carp. Let Sweets play it for you.” Tinkletoes says leaning in to Carp. Tinkletoes turns his head away to stifle his laughter. Unable to contain himself he gets to the bathroom just as the intro starts.

“I'm missin' your support hose...and it's givin' me the blues.” Mr. Donuts sings. He plays the guitar skillfully, closing his eyes when he sings, letting the notes pour out. “Since you told me you was leavin', I've been feelin' so confused. You left me oh so lonely. I don't even have any ice cubes.”

Carp runs his hand down his face and covers his mouth.

“I'm missin' your support hose and it's givin' me the blues.”

“Okay now. Big finish.” Mr. Donut says. He brings the song to it's conclusion loudly and with great flourish waiting for applause.

Carp applauds and smiles painfully.

“So what do you think? Wait...before you say anything I want you to know I come from a tougher generation. Be honest. I can take it.” Mr. Donut says.

“Your sound is completely unique. I have never heard anything like it.”

Tinkletoes comes out of the bathroom. “You hope to never hear anything like it. Ever again.” He whispers as he passes Carp.

“What did you think?” Mr. Donut asks Tinkletoes.

“Well...um...” Tinkletoes says looking at the ceiling.

“Yes?”

“What's up with the ice cubes?” Tinkletoes asks.

Mr. Donut laughs for a moment, “Is he serious?” he says looking at Carp.

Carp laughs in agreement.

“The ice cubes are a metaphor for Mrs. Donut's passionate loving care. It was one of the things that made her the best wife of our generation. Ice cubes. Her ice cubes were never stale. For 64 years, I had scotch on the rocks every night when I got home from work. For 45 years, if we were dining at home, the ice in that drink was always fresh. Trust me a man can tell when he gets stale ice. She loved me that much. To make the extra effort every day to make sure I had fresh ice. That is the mark of a quality wife.”

“Really? I thought you knew a good woman because she would actually...”

Carp stands up and smacks Tinkletoes on the back of the head before he can finish his sentence.

“Have some respect.” Carp whispers.

“We're all guys.” Tinkletoes points out.

“She was some woman. She loved me with everything she had.” Mr Donut says, as his eyes tear up. “I miss her.”

“It's okay. Let it out. Let it out.” Carp says, enclosing Mr. Donut in a manly embrace.

“Put it back. Put that back now.” Tinkletoes says. He squats down and looks Mr. Donut in the eye. “It's been two years. You've probably been crying this whole time. Did it bring her back?”

Mr. Donut shakes his head.

“Of course not. Because you're a guy. Well, also because she's dead. I mean she can't come back. Guys don't do it this way. You got to take all your pain and bury it. Bury it deep. As far as you can. Then you do man things. When you're doing the man things you let the crap you buried come out and explode. It explodes right out of you like a batch of grenades. If you do it right, you've killed something.” Tinkletoes says.

“You mean like a rabbit or a deer?” Mr. Donut asks.

“Or a ninja zombie. If you're really lucky a space alien.”

“Mrs. Donut didn't approve of me hunting.” He says drying his tears.

“Mrs. Donut isn't here now is she?” Tinkletoes says grinning.

A light slowly begins to dawn at the end of both Mr. Donut and Tinkletoes' tunnels.

“No. She isn't.”

“She's dead. You can do whatever you want. You can do man things again.” Tinkletoes says.

“I can do man things again?”

“Because you're a guy.” Tinkletoes says.

“Because I'm a guy.” Mr. Donut repeats.

“No. Say it with grit this time. 'I'm a guy.'” Tinkletoes says.

“I'm a guy.”

“A little deeper man. 'I'm a guy.'”

“I'm a little deeper man. I'm a guy.” Mr. Donut says.

“It'll have to do.” Tinkletoes says. “Let Carp and me show you what you've been missing. I have guns, knives and live ammo. Let's go have some fun.”

“Um...Tink...” Carp says.

“Yeah. Just as soon as I get out of this dress.”

What Happens In The Bedroom...

“Um...um...” Tinkletoes says.

Mr. Donut rises from the bed to embrace the spirit of his late wife. For every step he takes, small shuffling ones, Tinkletoes takes a large step back.

“My advances always did render you speechless didn't they my dear?”

Tinkletoes pales. He furiously searches his mind for way out of this but he never planned a strategy for this type of scenario.

“I can hear your breathing as it quickens. Your spirit responds to me even if you cannot.” Duncan Donut reaches for Tinkletoes' hand. Tinkletoes quickly pulls it out of range and begins to fan himself.

“Please Sweets, just let me catch my breath for a moment darlin'.”

“Keep talking my little Rainbow Sprinkles. Your southern belle is the hottest thing north of Memphis.”

Tinkletoes fans faster. Think. I gotta think. Maybe if I let him keep talking I'll get an idea.

“I should have known when you appeared to me on the Fourth of July you were only after one thing.” Mr. Donut continues.

“I...I” Tinkletoes stammers.

“The Fourth of July. The day of our union. The day our two souls became one. For 45 years, no matter what happened or how we felt about each other we celebrated our love. You had such...enthusiasm.”

“Oh my goodness...” Tinkletoes squeaks. “You're 94 years old. You can't.”

“Not for years but my sweet little Rainbow Sprinkles. Your return, it makes me feel young again.”

“I can't. I'm a ghost. Remember? So just back off old man.” Tinkletoes warns.

“Telling me to back off and then using my favorite pet name? You have always teased me terribly my dear. What shall I do with you?” Mr. Donut asks shuffling up to Tinkletoes and backing him into a corner. He reaches out and touches Tinkletoes on the upper arm gently. “I am able to touch you. We have been gifted one more romantic moment together.” Squeezing Tinkletoes' arm a little tighter he notices something. “You have changed Rainbow. You seem...harder? Have you been working out?”

“A little.” Tinkletoes' voice is deeper than it was moments before. He coughs and squeaks out, “A little. Just some water aerobics. There isn't much to do up there.”

“Water aerobics gives you biceps?”

“Weights? Weights. They added weights and stuff.” Tinkletoes answers.

Mr. Donut runs his hand down Tinkletoes' arm to take his beloved late wife's hand in his own and interlace their fingers. “Tell me my dear. Does water aerobics increase one's body hair as well?”

“Menopause?” Tinkletoes says.

“That still happens when one does not have a physical body?”

“Oh yeah.” Tinkletoes answers. “One week a month, you know because the big guy can make those things happen, all the younger women up there...It's just hell. A complete hell.”

“Darling. I too have been through hell.” Mr. Donut advances, eyes closed, lips puckered.

“I'm a dude.” Tinkletoes says in his own deep voice.

Mr. Donut stops moving, opening his eyes. He sees a muscular man in a flowered dress with closely cropped hair and a five o'clock shadow. Mr. Donut lets out a horrified scream.

“Shh...” Tinkletoes says.

“Help me. Help me.” Mr. Donut calls feebly.

Tinkletoes reaches out and covers Mr. Donut's mouth with his hand. “I'm not a bad person. I'm not here to hurt you. This is all a misunderstanding,” he says.

Mr. Donut's eyes grow larger. A tap-tap-tap on the window startles both men. Straining a little Tinkletoes reaches out and opens the window for Carp.

“I was just coming to tell you that TP says you shouldn't let Mr. Donut touch you. If you do the spell dies.” Carp starts out quickly, he speech slows when he realizes he is too late. “You're a man again.”

“Really?” Tinkletoes asks.

“What can I do to help?” Carp asks.

“Calm him down.” Tinkletoes says.

Within minutes Mr. Donut is sitting on the bed with a glass of water in his hand. Carp is next to him listening intently. Tinkletoes is standing on the far side of the room trying not to feel so guilty.

“I don't understand it. He looked so much like my Clara at first.” Mr. Donut looks at Carp. “Are you sure I'm not going crazy?” He asks.

Carp shakes his head. “A friend of ours is working on some special costume make-up. It can really alter a person's features.”

“This so embarrassing.” Mr. Donut says hanging his head.

“It's okay. I'm sure you miss Clara terribly. Do you want to talk about her?” Carp asks.

“Talk about her? This man's been crying for two years. The last thing he needs to do is talk about her.” Tinkletoes says. “He needs to go outside more and do...I don't know. Old people stuff.”

“He's right. There is not much more to say.” Mr. Donut gestures to the frames on the bedroom walls. “It's all right here. This was our life together.”

Standing up, Carp studies the pictures.

“That's her favorite song on the turntable.” Mr. Donut says.

Walking over to the old stereo system, Carp looks at the record. “ 'Sugar, Sugar' by The Archies. An oldie.”

“But a goodie.” Mr. Donut says smiling. “It was our wedding song too. Clara loved music. She followed the Billboard charts like they were a bible.”

“Was there anything she didn't like?” Carp asks.

“Country Western music. She hated it. I loved it. I could only listen at the donut shop. I never let her work with me so I could listen. That was my world. I used to write songs when I was a young man. I started again a few months ago.”

“Really? You must have a lot of experience writing music.” Carp says.

“About 70 years now. I'm wasn't as good with the lyrics not until recently. Do you want to hear some?” Mr. Donut asks.

“No.” Tinkletoes says.

“Yes!” Carp says smiling.

“Just let me get my guitar.” Rising with assistance Mr. Donut shuffles to the living room for his guitar.

“I don't want to listen to this.” Tinkletoes says.

“Do you want to go to jail?” Carp asks.

“No.”

Muttering can be heard from a distance, “I always put my guitar in the same place. Did I move the place?” Shuffling continues. “This is just going to take a minute. I'll find it eventually.” Mr. Donut calls. “I always do. Sooner or later...”

Tinkletoes A.K.A. Mrs. Donut

Tinkletoes stops just outside the bathroom door studying his reflection in the hallway mirror. Looking back from the reflection is a grown man with thick closely cut hair, a five o'clock shadow, and massive arms. Hair from his legs is sticking out along the hem of the dress.

“I told you I was too manly for this. He'll never buy it.”

TP, Dobby, and Carp all gather around Tinkletoes.

“You might be right. And I thought you just really didn't want to put on the dress. I have to say this is disturbing.” Carp says looking at Tinkletoes with horror. “It's the angles, just too many angles. Women are supposed to be soft.”

“I know. There's just nothing soft about me.” Tinkletoes says. “Take off your shirt,” he says looking at Carp.

Carp takes off his shirt.

“You aren't very soft either and your pecs aren't big enough. They would never pass for boobs.” Tinkletoes points out. “This was the only plan I had too. Do you have a sister?” he asks looking at Carp. Carp shakes his head. “Maybe if the dress had sleeves?”

Dobby whispers something in TP's ear. The faerie nods. Turning around Dobby runs into Writer Lady's bedroom and returns with a large piece of fabric in his teeth.

“A shawl for the lady.” TP says giggling.

Bending down Tinkletoes gently accepts the shawl from the ginger tabby. “Thanks buddy.” He drapes it across his shoulders wrapping the ends around each arm. “Okay. How do I look?”

“Pretty girl.” TP giggles.

Dobby makes a face.

“I can't believe it.” Carp says. “It just gets scarier.”

“Paint your nails.” TP giggles. “TP go find lipstick.” The faerie does somersaults in the air as he laughs.

“Dammit TP! This is serious. We are at war faerie.” Tinkletoes says.

TP shakes his head and laughs. “No, not so serious.” The faerie keeps laughing. “Tinkletoes makes an ugly girl.”

“You...” Tinkletoes says reaching out to grab the faerie. TP somersaults out of Tinkletoes' reach and quiets his laughter.

“No. No. It's okay. TP has magic for you.”

Putting out his arms and wiggling his fingers TP says:

To make a lady from this buffoon

Is to bring forth a butterfly from it's cocoon

Soften the angles

“This doesn't sound like the usual spells.” Tinkletoes says to Carp.

“The fae are going through changes.” Dobby says. “Some of the spells are written by committee now.”

“This is my part.” TP giggles

Give him a pretty scent

Take away his burps

From this moment man is woman

May he be careful how much he flirts

Before TP, Dobby's, and Carp's eyes the ex-soldier and self-proclaimed mercenary's appearance changes. The five o'clock shadow, the hair on his arms and legs disappear. The lines of his face and visible muscles soften. Pecs become boobs and his hair grows out too.

“How do I look?” Tinkletoes asks with a higher and softer voice.

TP, Carp, and Dobby all look at each other.

“You smell better.” Carp says.

“Really?” Tinkletoes asks.

Leaning in Carp takes another whiff. “Sweet. Like cinnamon and sugar.”

After several minutes of monitoring the activity on the street, Carp and Tinkletoes take advantage of a few quiet moments and cross to Mr. Donut's house.

“I can't believe TP has all that magic and he couldn't give me shoes. This street is hot.” Tinkletoes says.

“Those barefoot and pregnant jokes you used to tell in high school aren't so funny anymore now are they.” Carp says.

“You don't think I can get pregnant while I'm like this do you?” Tinkletoes asks.

“I don't know. TP did a really good job on those boobs.” Carp says staring down. “He might have done other things too.”

“My eyes are up here Carp.” Tinkletoes says as they finish crossing the street. The pair stop in Mr. Donut's driveway. “You knock on the sliding door in the kitchen when he answers, I'll sneak in the bedroom through the window.” Tinkletoes says turning away.

Carp nods and says, “Promise me one thing.” Tinkletoes turns back to Carp. “Don't let Mr. Donut get to second base on the first date. That's just slutty.”

Tinkletoes glares at Carp. The two...um...men begin to part ways. Remembering something Tinkletoes whistles and they meet back in the driveway. “What was Mrs. Donut's name?” he asks.

“Clara.” Carp says. “But he always called her Rainbow.”

Scratching his head for a minute Tinkletoes turns and finds his way into Mr. Donut's bedroom.

“I don't know what it is with these people. A grown man comes to the door selling Girl Scout cookies on a holiday. He had no cookies. We should have moved five years ago when I suggested it.” Mr. Donut says as he returns to the safety of his bedroom. The walls are covered with frames. A couple takes a lot of pictures during a 45 year marriage. He had them all hanging where he could see them. Mr. Donut lays back down on his bed. “Clara I miss you so much,” he says. Tears fall again.

I can't believe this guy is still crying. Let's get this over with. “If you miss me so much then sit up and talk to me.”

“Clara?”

“Yes Duncan.” Tinkletoes says.

“Is it you?”

“Yes Sweets it's me.”

Mr. Donut sits up and opens his eyes. He gazes at the silhouette in the darkened room reaching for his glasses on the nightstand.

“What are you doing?” Tinkletoes asks gruffly.

“I'm getting my glasses my dear. I can't believe you're here.”

“It's me darling.” Tinkletoes reaches out and smacks Mr. Donut on the hand. “You don't need those glasses. Reach out with your heart, can't you feel that it's me?”

Mr. Donut closes his eyes. “I can smell cinnamon and sugar. It is you. My Rainbow. My little Rainbow Sprinkles.”

Rainbow Sprinkles? Tinkletoes mouths making a face.

“I have missed you so. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second of life has been so empty without you. Will you come home? Will you stay?” Duncan Donut asks.

“I can't stay Sweets. I'm dead.”

“Oh. I was hoping you were just really mad at me.”

“I'm a ghost.”

“Okay. I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“What took you so long?”

“What do you mean what took me so long?” Tinkletoes asks.

“It's been two years. Two years and not one visit. Haven't you stopped by? Heard me crying? Seen my tears?”

Of all the people that could help me, Carp finds the one with separation anxiety.

“I came back.” Tinkletoes says.

“You did come back.” Mr. Donut says.

“It's the Fourth of July?” Tinkletoes adds.

“It is the Fourth of July.” Mr. Donut agrees. Mr. Donut's features soften a bit. A wry grin crosses his lips. “Rainbow Sprinkles. You naughty little minx. You missed your Daddy didn't you?”