Writer Lady stretches in bed as she opens her eyes. Raising her arm she looks at her hand, the hilt of Excalibur rests in her palm. Unable to believe what she’s seeing she closes her eyes, when she opens them Excalibur is gone.
Writer Lady sighs and gets out of bed. Another day of job hunting lies in front of her. More time spent trying to convince a bot she has something valuable to contribute. Unfortunately for her bots don’t read fiction. After using the bathroom and brushing her teeth she looks at herself in the mirror. Today is it. Today I’m going to apply for the job that is going to be my next job. She practices her friendly and enthusiastic new employee smile. The grimace that results looks so much like she’s auditioning for a laxative commercial she gives up. Maybe the smile will have returned by tomorrow. Finding her favorite jeans and a t-shirt that reads, “I am smiling” she gets dressed and shuffles into High Command to start her day. She tenses when a pair of hands grab her shoulders – a familiar voice says “Not so fast lady.” Writer Lady turns to face Tinkletoes and says, “The coffee is already made, it’s in the pot.”
“I’m not here to ask for coffee.” The self-proclaimed mercenary says her around to face him. “You’ve been spending too much of your time trying to find a new job. You aren’t even taking the weekends off anymore are you?”
“I’m still off most of the weekend.”
“That’s not the same.” Tinkletoes counters as he guides her into the living room. “We’ve been talking and as much as we appreciate your dedication to finding new employment we all agree you need a day off, not less time job hunting or a break from skill development but a real day off.”
“No cooking.” Aunt Purdy says.
“No cleaning.” Peter, Paige, and Dylan add.
“No running to the store for my cheese puffs...or candy bars...snack cakes...fruit leather...potato chips…” Ray says. “...p..”
Tinkletoes’ hand covers Ray’s mouth, a very muffled pizza can still be heard emerging from behind the insomniac’s lips.
“No skill building.” Diomedes says.
“No job hunting.” Tinkletoes announces.
“You can only have fun.” TP giggles.
“It’s only one day Mom, we’ll be fine.” Dobby says.
The Honky-Tonk piano notes from “Old Time Rock And Roll” by Bob Seger plays in the background, ending as suddenly as it began.
“Welcome to your day off!” House calls making the windows rattle.
“That was a lot of enthusiasm.” Writer Lady observes.
“We’re kinda payin’ her.” Tinkletoes admits.
Writer Lady nods.
“Here’s your bag.” Carp says as he holds up her purse.
“Paige and I filled a tote bag with your favorite things.” Aunt Purdy says, holding the bag out.
“Thank you.”
“Coffee.” Tinkletoes holds a large go mug up with the name Bueller printed across the front of it.
Writer Lady leaves the house. The door closes behind her. She stands in her driveway wondering what to do next. After a few minutes she gets into her car setting out to spend some time at the farm.
“No workee workee!” TP’s voice comes pouring out of her stereo.
The car begins sounding like its been possessed before abruptly dying. She tries starting the car again. Nothing. Writer Lady picks up her phone to call for a mechanic.
“The car only died because of what you tried, it’ll be fine by tomorrow silly human.” TP giggles disappearing in a puff of smoke.
“I’m supposed to have a day off without being in my house or driving my car. Farm work is a great big No. If I can’t go anywhere and I can’t stay home what’s left?” she asks before resting her head against the seat and closing her eyes. The singing begins.
Come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination. Take a look and you’ll see into your imagination.
Writer Lady opens her eyes. Gene Wilder sits in her passenger seat dressed as Willie Wonka. It’s not his voice that’s singing, the voice is a higher pitched giggly one that’s all to familiar.
“Very funny TP.”
Writer Lady reaches out. TP’s magic falls away as she touches Gene/Willie’s arm. A demon appears in his place.
“Did TP put you up to this?”
The demon’s eyes grow wide with fear. “Daemon wanted to help.”
“Thank you Daemon. You can go back inside the house now.”
He nods and gets out of the car. A door to the house appears next to the car shielding the demon from curious neighbors’ eyes. Daemon waves at her before disappearing inside.
“TP?!”
“Writer Lady’s angry, TP’s not coming out.”
“Writer Lady’s also stubborn. I’m not getting out of this car until we’ve had a talk.”
“Uh oh.”
“If I’m not supposed to stay home and I can’t take my car where am I supposed to go on my day off?”
“Anywhere you want.”
“I can’t use my car!”
“Walking?”
“I can’t walk anywhere that’s fun.”
“We didn’t think about that part.”
Writer Lady’s face has not yet softened. “It’s time to think about it!”
“TP might be able to help. What is fun for Writer Lady?”
She lowers her head and sighs before responding, “I really don’t know anymore. I never relax enough to find out. In order to have fun a lot of things in my world would have to change.”
Want to change the world...there’s nothing to it, plays through Writer Lady’s car speakers.
“If only it were that simple.”
TP appears and sits down on the dash of her car. He’s dressed up like Willy Wonka. “It could be,” the faerie says. “TP knows a game. Writer Lady remembers having fun. Whatever pops into Writer Lady’s head is what we’ll do now.”
“Whatever pops into my head...that sounds familiar. I saw that in a movie once and in that movie there was a giant marshmallow man.” She looks at TP. “There is no way I’m fighting a giant marshmallow man and if I was I wouldn’t be doing it here.”
“Okey dokey.” TP says. “Let’s go!”
There are two flashes of light as they disappear leaving Writer Lady’s car empty. Writer Lady opens her eyes and takes in her surroundings. Feeling cold she looks down and sees a pair of white crew socks on her feet. She’s wearing a pair of white dance shorts and tank top under a white dress shirt with burgundy pin striping and a turned up collar. She looks down and behind as far as she can to confirm her backside is appropriately covered. The opening of a well known song rings out on the piano as she slides across a wooden floor stopping to face and empty living room. TP follows in the exact same outfit.
“How did this happen?” She asks as she begins lip syncing to “Old Time Rock And Roll” by Bob Seger.
“Sometime when you were a kid you thought doing this would be fun.” TP says.