Slim Pickings

“How did that happen?”  Writer Lady asks.

“The more important question is who's going to pull it out.”  Carp says.

Everyone in the room gives pause, studying Damon's needle sharp horns, not to mention his sheer mass.  If the demon starts thrashing around when they are trying to help him...

“How did he get that up in there?”  Writer Lady asks looking closely at the demon's bulging nostril.

A sharp ping can be heard coming from TP's glass cell.  “Demons are really stretchy.”  TP says.

“This isn't going to be fun.”  Writer Lady says.

“No it isn't.”   Tinkletoes agrees, looking Damon in the eye he points to the couch and gestures for the demon to sit down, as the demon sits down the couch creaks in protest.

Writer Lady studies Damon more closely.  “Do you think his breathing is labored?”    She asks.

“No.”  Tinkletoes says.

She continues watching the demon.  “It doesn't look like his breathing is labored.  Should we check his pulse?”  She asks.

“If he has trouble breathing we'll know.  His face will turn red.”  Tinkletoes says, but before the word 'red' escapes his lips completely,  “He's already red.  We'll catch it if he turns blue.”

“Blue is a more critical sign.”  Carp agrees.  "We need to sit down and brainstorm so we can come up with the best solution possible.”

Looking at the couch straining under the demon's mass everyone sits down on the floor.

“Who has a suggestion?”   Carp asks.

“Have him blow his nose.”  Peter says.

“Hit him on the back of the head with something so the bottle falls out?”  Writer Lady asks.  Tinkletoes looks at her.  “A pillow or something.”   She explains.

“Pick it out.  Like a booger.”  Dylan says hiding his face as giggles escape.

“Pissing contest?”  Ray asks.   “Wait...wrong body part.  Sorry.  If he ever gets a bottle stuck, you know...”

“We'll know what to do.”  Carp says finishing Ray's thought.

“Thanks Ray.”  Tinkletoes says shaking his head.

“I like to help.”  Ray says grinning, standing up, he heads to the kitchen.

“Ray, where are you going?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Kitchen.  It's been a rough couple of hours.  I need...”

“To sit down.”

“But...”

“Sit down Ray.”  Tinkletoes says.

Ray returns to his seat muttering a little.

“Any other suggestions?”  Carp asks.

Writer Lady, Carp, and Ray all look at Tinkletoes.

“What?”  Tinkletoes asks.  “When he gets tired of having the bottle up there he'll pull it out.”

“Why did you bring Damon in here then?”

“I got tired of babysitting.”  Tinkletoes says.

“How could you be tired when you didn't do anything?”  Writer Lady asks.

Both Tinkletoes and Writer Lady start yelling at the same time.

“Have you ever kept a demon busy?”

“There is a bottle up his nose.  An entire bottle!   How is that watching him?”

“One minute he was looking at it, sniffing it, and the next...it was up there.”  Tinkletoes says gesturing to his face.

“Men never can do this crap right.”  Writer Lady says.

“Which is why women are supposed to take care of the babies!”

A hush falls, quieting the room.  It's deadly quiet.  Freakishly quiet.   It's creepy.

“Duuuude.  You just said the wrong thing.”  Ray says.

Writer Lady's face grows red, her eyes become deep dark wells of...they are like a void or something.  It's not a good sign.

“It's a good thing he's just a demon then isn't it?”  Writer Lady asks having quieted her voice.  She is composing her temper, for the moment.

A scraping sound fills the room, followed by a thump.  Scrape...thump. Scrape...thump.  Everyone looks around seeking the noise's source.   Dylan finds it first.  “He's doing it!”  The boy exclaims pointing to the demon.   The group watches as Damon lifts a hand to his nostril and scrapes at the bottle's lid with his thumb and forefinger.  After several minutes he successfully unscrews the lid from the bottle but after that nothing more.

“I knew that when I got back stateside things would be slow, but sitting around watching a demon pick his nose...”  Tinkletoes says.

“Duuuude.  The movie theater closed, we have to do something.”

Writer Lady runs her hand down her face stopping to cover the smile crossing her lips.  The darkness has dissipated, replaced with amusement at the situation and affection for those sharing the moment with her.   “Ray does have a point.” She agrees.  She looks back and studies the demon as he...works.   “TP said demons are really stretchy, if we could figure out how to communicate with him...”

“If he pulled on the outer edge of his nostril...”

“Someone could reach in and pull the bottle out.”  Writer Lady finishes.

“Someone with small hands.”  Carp offers looking at Dylan.

“His head will have to held still.  He has to be okay with us doing it too.”   Writer Lady adds.

“Those horns could kill all of us.”   Tinkletoes says.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance.”

Writer Lady, Tinkletoes, and Carp look up to find Diomedes sitting in the hall just outside the entryway.