Of Murals and Monitor Man

Tinkletoes enters the bonus room to find Mural Man in his loincloth sashaying and gyrating to some...something.   He turns his head away from whatever Mural Man is doing and looks around the room.  As a flash of vibrant color penetrates his field of vision, Tinkletoes watches the bright clothing dance along the wall over to where Mural Man is um...doing his thing.   The salsa dress is stunning and the woman being enveloped by it captivating with long auburn hair and glowing amber eyes.  She is tall and willowy.  Tinkletoes has to remember why he came into the room.  The music changes to a salsa that ricochets off the walls in time with party lights bringing him back to his mission. Just as the dancing woman reaches Mural Man, Tinkletoes coughs.

“May I help you?”  The woman asks as both she and Mural Man look at Tinkletoes unhappy with the interruption.

“You're supposed to be quiet at night. Writer Lady has an agreement with House.”

“I am she.”   The woman says.

“You're House?  I thought the house was House.” Tinkletoes says.

“I am.”

“How can you be on the wall dancing then?”

“TP.  TP created a one dimensional rendering of my personality so that Mural Man and I could... interact.”  House answers gazing at her dance partner.  Mural Man looks at her adoringly.

“Wow.   You look. Wow.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Yes.  Thank you.”  House responds.   “Is that all?”

“So I need to know when you're going to turn the music down, so I can tell Writer Lady.”

“We have no plans to turn it down in the immediate future.”

Tinkletoes points to the window.  “It's nighttime.  It's dark out.”

House glares at Tinkletoes, stepping away from Mural Man, she sighs, “We are merely enjoying the time we lost earlier today when Writer Lady, Carp, TP and yourself were congregating in our space.”

“We weren't in here that long.”   Tinkletoes says.

“Then this won't take very long will it?”  The music starts up again.  House and Mural Man pick up where they left off.

Tinkletoes stands where he is and waits.   He studies the murals as they dance. So happy and oblivious to everything around them.

The song ends.  House claps her hands, the party lights go off and the lights come back on. “There! Happy?”  She shouts, leaving the room in a huff.

“Very. Thank you.”   Tinkletoes says grinning.

Mural Man sits down.   As well as any one dimensional painting can. “So.”   He says.

“So.  You're the mural.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Yep.”

“You look just like Monitor Man?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“That's what they tell me.”

“House seems to like you a lot.”

“I'm Monitor Man, well a picture of Monitor Man.  What's not to like?”

“I only met him once, there was a war.  I killed way more Ninja Zombies than he did.”

Mural Man nods.  Then silence.

Tinkletoes looks in the direction of the main house and Writer Lady.  “What is it about Monitor Man that the ladies seem to like so much?”

Mural Man thinks for a minute, grinning he says, “He's a lover not a fighter.”

“What's he got that I don't?  I'm looking at you Mural Man I'm thinking we look a lot alike.”

“Really?”  Mural Man asks.

“Well yeah.”

House returns to the bonus room, “You're still here?”

“Yes he is.” Mural Man answers House.  “We were talking.  He says he thinks we look a lot alike.   He wonders what Monitor Man has that he doesn't.  Do you think we look alike?”

House starts to open her mouth in protest.  She looks at Mural Man, then at Tinkletoes. “Possibly.  If you were cleaned up, put in an excellent costume.  Yes Tinkletoes, you could be mistaken for Monitor Man, in a dark alley by a blind person.”

TP pops in the room in front of Tinkletoes, “You scream like a girl.”  The faerie giggles and disappears in a puff of smoke.

“And Monitor Man doesn't?  I fought in a war with him.   A guy like that, he totally screams like a girl.  I'll prove it.”  Tinkletoes says pulling his phone out of his pocket he starts searching the Internet for confirmation. “See here it is.” Tinkletoes says, he walks across the room and leans against the wall between them so the murals can see what he found.

There it was, Monitor Man running out of a haunted obstacle course nearly running over the children in front of him and screaming loudly.

“Just like a girl.”   Tinkletoes says beaming.  “Waaaay louder than I screamed.”

The man holding the camera stops Monitor Man to ask him if he knew he screamed that way. The actor looked right at the camera and said, “Of course, I do that on purpose.  Studies show that if you are already scared and someone behind you screams, you'll scream too.  Even louder than the person behind you.” Monitor Man grins.   “I like to read psychology sometimes between takes.” He grins bigger, his eye twinkles.

House glares at Tinkletoes.   “He sounds like a really smart guy.”

“He's used to being in the public eye. It's probably some canned answer he keeps hidden away for this type of moment.”

“You think he goes to haunted houses and scary movies enough that he needs a canned answer to explain his girlish screams?”  House asks.

“Well, yeah.”

Tinkletoes pulls up another embarrassing piece of footage to share with Mural Man.

“What's this all about?”  House asks.

TP pops back in the room. “Tinkletoes likes Writer Lady.  He wants her attention. Tinkletoes is jeal-ous...” The faerie sings out.

“That's not it.”  Tinkletoes tries to argue.

“If Writer Lady likes Tinkletoes he thinks he won't have to buy her a new lawn mower too.  Silly human.  It's not going to work.  Tinkletoes will pay!  Pay over and over.”   TP says giggling.

House glares at Tinkletoes.

“What?”

“You wonder why I don't like you.”  She says.  “First thing mercenary, you have to decide what your first priority is Writer Lady's love or not having to buy that lawn mower.”

“Can't I have both?”   Tinkletoes asks.

“If Writer Lady is your priority,” House says pointing to Tinkletoes' search results.  “Keep watching Monitor Man.  Watch and learn soldier.  Watch and learn.”

“What can he teach me? Besides, it doesn't matter how many women want him he has a girlfriend.   I heard him say it.  More than once.”

“He can teach you how to get a girlfriend, moron.”  House says, pointing to an item on the phone.  “TP” she calls.  The item is immediately called up on Tinkletoes' phone.   It is an excerpt from an entertainment news show.   It was recorded the day before.

There are two female anchors sitting at a desk in front of a colorful set.  Large movie posters and pictures of actors and actresses are posted behind them.   A large “Hollywood” sign hangs above the posters.

Attention Ladies Hollywood's sexiest hottie is single again.  Monitor Man has recently broken up with his long time girlfriend, Incredibly Hot Woman. But if you want him you're going to have to act fast.  He already has someone he's interested in.  When we give you this scoop you will be shocked.   Stay tuned...

Everyone waits for more information.  The show picks up where it left off, cutting straight to an interview with Monitor Man.

“So Monitor Man what kind of woman has caught your eye?  She must be something to draw your attention from Incredibly Hot Woman. Which rising starlet is it?  Give us a hint.”  The interviewer asks.

“I won't give you any names.  I want to respect her privacy.   Besides, I don't even know if she would like a guy like me.” Monitor Man grins. “I will tell you this she's bright, funny and independent.  Oh and kind of spunky.”

Tinkletoes runs a hand across his mouth.  “It's her.   It's Writer Lady.  He likes Writer Lady.   If she sees this I have no chance.   She can't see this.”  Tinkletoes sends an e-mail with footage from the entertainment show attached and the message, “Call me after you've seen this.  Tink.”

Ten minutes later the phone rings.

“Duuuuuuude.”

“Thanks for calling Ray.”

“So what's up man?” Ray asks.

“Do you remember the story I told you about the Ninja Zombie war?  The actor guy?”

“Sure.”   There are munching noises in the background.   “That guy is super hot. You are so lucky he had a girlfriend or I'll bet Writer Lady would have run off with him.”

“The attachment in the e-mail I just sent you? That's the guy.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Duude, the guy in the video...he's single.”

“He wasn't during the war.”

“You fought in a war side by side with Monitor Man?  Duuude.  That is so cool.” Ray says.  The munching continues.

“Writer Lady and Monitor Man fought side by side.   I was at the other end of the hall doing the real damage.   That doesn't matter.  What matters is, he's single now.  He said he is already looking at someone.  He's looking at Writer Lady.  My Writer Lady.”

“Just a sec.  I have to send this attachment to my mom.  She thinks Monitor Man is so...hot.   She's been really bummed since that other dude got married.”

“No!  Don't spread that thing around.  I don't want Writer Lady to find out.”

“Sorry man but Mom would totally kick my ass if she found out I knew about this and I didn't tell her.  I'd never eat again.”  Ray says, crunching on something loudly.  “The cheese puffs are gone.”  He says crumpling up the bag. “I love cheese puffs.   This really sucks.”

“Ray.  I need you to focus.”

“My phone's beeping.  Just a sec.”

Tinkletoes paces and waits for Ray to return to the line.

“Duuude.  My mom is freaking out!   She's going for it!   She's just sure she's going to get Monitor Man's attention.   She said he just needs an experienced woman to love him.   Old ladies are so cute.”

“Ray.  I just need you to do one thing for me.”

“Mom just sent me an e-mail.   She says she's going to send Monitor Man a special picture and wait for his call.  She wants me to look at it first.”

Tinkletoes rubs a hand down his face and paces some more.

“No way.  No Way.   No Waaaaay.”

Smokin' Hot Super Stud

“Very Funny.” Tinkletoes says standing up and brushing himself off. As he closes the back door, Carp hands him a towel. “Do you think she heard?” He whispers.

TP pops into the room and says, “Carp, Writer Lady wants to know if you and your girlfriend want to join us for pizza.” TP giggles.

Tinkletoes hangs his head.

“There's your answer.” Carp says and turns to TP. “Yes we'll be there in a few minutes.” TP disappears in a puff of smoke.

“Relax. It will be a fun joke tonight then it will be forgotten about completely.”

“No.” Tinkletoes shakes his head. “That's it. I officially have no chance with her. Writer Lady will never see me as the smokin' hot, virile, super stud that I am now.”

“Super Stud?”

“Yeah, something wrong with that?”

“I'm just having trouble picturing that.” Carp says.

“I don't think I like you trying to picture it.” Tinkletoes says. “I'm a Super Stud Dammit!”

“Okay.” Carp turns his head away for a second to stifle his laughter.

“I have to make sure she doesn't forget it.” Tinkletoes says.

“Are you sure she's noticed?” Carp asked.

“Oh yeah, she's noticed.” Tinkletoes answers. “I can feel it.”

“This isn't a Star Wars movie we're living in here.”

Tinkletoes jerks his head up. “Don't disrespect the SW unless you wanna rumble.”

“No.”

Tinkletoes leans in close. “Darth Vader is real. One word from me and he will totally put the hurt on you.” Tinkletoes whispers. “Capesh?”

Carp nods.

“That's not what I was talking about though. I was referring to my Super Stud Sense. A man knows these things. I have to remind Writer Lady of how hot I am, make her forget about today's incident.”

Writer Lady's voice can be heard calling from the kitchen. “Pizza's ready! If you two love birds don't stop making out there won't be any left.”

“This is going to be a long night.” Carp says.

“There you two are. You almost missed out.” Writer Lady is standing by the stove keeping watch over the last four pieces. “You need to hurry. Dylan has come in twice already hoping to hear that you aren't hungry.”

“Where is everyone?” Tinkletoes asks.

“In the living room watching TV.”

Tinkletoes grins at Carp. Carp gets a plate and quickly takes custody of his two pieces leaving the room. “Thanks for the food.” Tinkletoes says pulling out his most dazzling smile.

“You're welcome. There would have been some bar-b-q but I was worried, came home early, and forgot to bring leftovers.”

“No, really. This is great.” Tinkletoes takes a step forward standing in Writer's Lady's space. “You are an amazing woman. Have I ever told you that before?”

“Thank you. You still have to replace the lawn mower.” Writer Lady answers.

“Will do. Pretty lady. Will do.” Tinkletoes smiles again. Taking his plate, he turns around and heads into the living room.

TP pops into the kitchen next to Writer Lady's shoulder.

“What was that about?” Writer Lady asks.

Stifling a laugh TP shakes his head and pops back out of the room.

Tinkletoes sits down next to Carp. “I have got it going on.” He says.

Carp looks at Tinkletoes and waits for more information.

“I turned up the heat in there a little. Poor woman. She never knew what hit her.”

“Did she take you in her arms right there in the kitchen? Pin you against the stove and take advantage of you? Did you leave her in the corner drooling and tearing at her clothes? What happened?”

“She said, 'You still have to replace the lawn mower.' She said it without yelling or hitting me. I was in her space. If she wasn't hot for me she would have hurt me.”

Carp rolls his eyes.

“What she doesn't know is this isn't over. I'm just getting started.”

“Really?”

“Of course, I just laid the foundation. I have to turn up the heat now. That's the only way the concrete is going to set.”

“You know, there are children here.” Carp points out.

“That's what bedtime is for. I think I need to go help with the dishes.” Tinkletoes says standing up. “Here let me take that for you.” He says taking Carp's plate and pizza.

“I'm not finished.” Carp says grabbing his pizza at the last second. “We used paper plates. There are no dishes.” He says to Tinkletoes' back.

“No.” Writer Lady says.

“No?”

“We used paper plates. The pizza came in a box. There are no dishes. So the answer is 'No' there is nothing you can help me with.”

“How about the trash can? I'll bet it's full. I'll just take that out for you.” Tinkletoes says walking over to the can. “It's empty.”

“I took it out already.” Writer Lady says.

Tinkletoes looks around for something to do. The kitchen is immaculate. He finds a well lit spot in Writer Lady's line of site. Yawning, Tinkletoes stretches, raising his arms up over his head. “It's been a long day. I'm tired.” Bringing his arms down slowly he starts flexing things. Writer Lady yawns and closes her eyes.

“Look...dammit...look!” Tinkletoes says.

“Did you say something?”

“No?”

“It must be House and Mural Man. We have an agreement about the noise level at night, they must have forgotten again. I'll go check on them.”

“Let me do that.” Tinkletoes volunteers.

“Are you sure? House doesn't like you much.”

“She's a lot happier since she met Mural Man. There won't be a problem.”

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes doubtingly.

“No. Really. I've got this.”

Screaming Like A Girl

“This storm is nothing. Says the man who just shot a lawn mower to bits.” Carp says.

“It wasn't a very dependable model.” Tinkletoes says. “I did that woman a favor.”

A thunderous crash sounds directly overhead.

“Holy Crap.” Tinkletoes says.

“Someone disagrees.” TP says giggling.

“Writer Lady's right.” Carp says. “It's safer in the house.”

“We're fine here. It's just a little storm.”

There is a louder crash and the flash outside brightens everything within the shed.

“Whoa.” Tinkletoes exclaims.

The unmistakable sound of hail beating on the roof of the shed begins. It's coming down hard and fast.

“I'm going to the house.” Carp says.

“Too late now. It's hailing.” Tinkletoes says.

Carp opens the shed door. “It's only pea size right now.” Carp looks at the sky still dark and heavy. “In another ten minutes, those clouds are going let loose and this time it's going to be the big stuff. Let's go while we still can.”

“I'm not getting stuck in that house with her. Not the way she's carrying on. You go ahead.” Tinkletoes says. “I'll see you in ten minutes. When the whole mess has blown out of here.”

“I'm warning you, staying in here is a bad idea.” Carp says watching the hail fall, “It's slowing down out there.”

“I've been warned. Now go.” Tinkletoes answers.

Carp sets out across the yard as tiny hail falls around him intermittently.

Tinkletoes looks at TP, “You too. Get going.”

“TP stay. TP wants to see Tinkletoes go Boom!” The faerie giggles.

“Go back to the house.” Tinkletoes says.

The faerie disappears in a puff of smoke and Tinkletoes closes the shed door just as the storm sirens go off.

“The sirens always go off when the storm is over. In ten minutes Carp will be apologizing to me.” Tinkletoes says, setting the alarm on his watch.

Entering through the back door, Carp finds Writer Lady waiting inside with warm dry towels and inquiring looks. She gives Carp a towel and helps brush the random hailstones off.

“Tinkletoes is staying in the shed.”

“What?”

“He says that the storm is not that bad, he's not coming out.”

“That's what he thinks.” Writer Lady says stepping past Carp.

“What are you going to do?”

“Well..I'm going to...”

“He doesn't want to talk to you right now.” Carp says.

“He doesn't have to talk to me, he just has to come into the house.”

Listening intently, giggling at the silliness of humans and their behavior, TP says. “I can make Tinkletoes come into the house.”

Carp and Writer Lady look at the faerie.

“But only if TP can make big noise.”

Ten minutes later, the alarm beeps. “Not another clap of thunder. Not a single drop of rain. I'm right again.” Tinkletoes says, reaching to turn off the watch. “I guess I better open the door so he can come back in.” Standing up, Tinkletoes reaches for the door just as an ominous growl comes from directly above his head. “That doesn't sound good.” The rumbling grows louder. Tinkletoes pushes the door open slightly to find much heavier and darker clouds above. The clouds begin swirling slowly in a counter clockwise direction. Increasing speed as the clouds come closer together. The rumbles grow louder. The wind picks up, increasing the spinning of the clouds.

“It just got ugly.” Tinkletoes says sitting back in the corner of the shed watching the door. “I'm thinking I got three options. Sit here and wait to die. Shoot myself, sit here, and wait to die.”

The sound of the wind grows louder like a train coming at the shed at full speed. It lifts the shed and drops it back down repeatedly, making the windows rattle, and the roof creak.

“Or I can die running for the house.”

Wheels turn. There is a ping! “All this sitting around is for the birds anyway.” Tinkletoes stands to his full height, brushes himself off and runs stopping in the yard long enough to glare at the tornado and flip it the bird.

TP's voice can be heard surrounding Tinkletoes. “Silly human.” The tornado changes direction, heading straight for the self-proclaimed mercenary he turns tail and runs for the house sliding through the open back door, screaming like a girl.

The moment Tinkletoes slides into home the tornado disappears, the rumbles go silent. Only light gray clouds are in the sky.  Birds start singing. Tinkletoes looks at Dobby who is sitting in front of him on a stack of storage containers, grins for a second, and drops his head back down on the floor. The ginger tabby reaches over and licks the mercenary on the end of his nose.

Reaching up to pet the cat, “Hey buddy, good to see you. I missed you.” Tinkletoes says.

“That wasn't so hard now was it?” Writer Lady comments handing Carp a First Aid Kit, some clean towels, and leaving the room.

Taking the supplies and putting them down on a nearby table Carp looks at Tinkletoes closely waiting for his moment.

“Amazing.” Carp says.

“What's amazing?” Tinkletoes asks.

“My mind must be playing tricks on me because I saw you come sliding in through the back door but I could have sworn a heard some girl screaming.”

Big Noise

Tinkletoes takes a step back and holds up his hands.

“I'm putting alarms all over this thing. So don't even think about taking this back after I go to bed.” Writer Lady says as she takes the ammo bag into the house.

“She always makes me leave before she goes to bed. What does she think, I'm going to pick the lock or something?” Tinkletoes mutters to himself. Turning to Carp he says, “I told you that woman has a mean streak.”

“You shot up her shed and her lawn mower. What did you think she was going to do console you with sweet words and fresh cookies?” Carp answers.

“Sweet words. From her?” Tinkletoes says. “Some warm cookies would have been nice though.”

A window opens, “A working lawn mower would be nice too. But I don't have that. Do I?” Writer Lady yells and slams the window back down.

“Fix the shed. I personally would replace both the shed and the lawn mower. Then she'll give you your stuff back.” Carp says.

“It's the Fourth of July. After 4 p.m. Nothing is open. Besides I just used the last of my savings on a new...”

“Another light saber? You have five. What are you going to do with six?”

“This is a custom design. My best one yet. I can sell it some day. Besides the display doesn't look right. Three on one side, two on the other. It's crooked.”

“You don't have to buy a sixth light saber to fix that. Take the number three saber and center it underneath both of the rows with two sabers in them. Or you can just leave it like it is. Asymmetrical designs can catch the eye more quickly and be more visually interesting.”

“What are you a decorator now?” Tinkletoes asks.

“No, but I've hired a few.” Carp answers.

“For a minute I thought we were going to have to go on a scavenger hunt...for your manhood.” Tinkletoes says laughing. “I'd be happy if we could just find some duct tape.”

A roll of duct tape sails past Tinkletoes' head. A second one flies directly at him. He catches it, pulling it away from his face he says “thanks,” looking up to see Writer Lady glaring at him.

“That's only temporary until you replace the shed,” she says slamming the back door.

“I don't know why she's so mad. It was my Fourth of July that got ruined.”

The natural light in the yard grows darker. Looking up at the gray clouds moving in, “It looks like it's going to rain. Let's get these holes covered.” Carp says.

“Cover the outside of the shed first, then inside. That way we can keep going even if it starts raining.” Tinkletoes finishes.

Both men cross the yard duct tape and utility knives in hand to begin their work. The work goes quickly. The storm moves in more quickly. The air grows heavy, heat lightning fills the sky. The wind picks up making working with tape and knife difficult.

“It's too windy out here. Let's work inside.” Tinkletoes calls to Carp. Both men go into the metal shed closing the door behind them as lightning strikes in the sky over their heads. It begins to rain. There is another sound mixed in with the rain, wind and lightning.

“Do you hear something?” Carp asks.

Tinkletoes stops and listens. “There's a beeping noise.” Tinkletoes says and continues working.

A bright red light starts blinking in a darkened corner on the opposite side of the shed. It grows brighter with every blink.

“Um...Tink. Did you forget something?” Carp asks.

Tinkletoes looks at Carp and waits for more information.

“That light doesn't go to some explosive device or something does it?”

“No. I only have grenades. I have my eye on a rocket launcher...”

“What is that blinking then?” Carp asks.

“I don't know. Go look.” Tinkletoes says.

“You're the veteran. You go look.”

“I got thrown out of the munitions program before they got to that part. You borrow one jeep and a rocket launcher they just get all bent out of shape.” Tinkletoes says shaking his head. “Some people just don't get it. I learn by doing.”

“Who's going to check this thing out?” Carp asks.

Both men stare at the blinking light.

“BOOM! You're dead!” TP screams out, giggling when both men hit the deck covering their heads. “Silly humans.” TP continues giggling.

“Damn it TP!” Tinkletoes yells.

“No bad words. Shame. Shame.” TP says shaking his finger. “The Fourth of July is for making big noises. TP made a big noise.”

“TP's going to be a little spot of goo on the bottom of my boot if he does it again.” Tinkletoes says sitting up.

“Tinkletoes made a big mess. He's cranky.” TP says looking at Carp.

“That happens when someone takes all of your toys away.” Carp says winking at TP.

“What do you want TP?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Writer Lady sends a message. Bad storms. When there is lightning in the sky metal sheds are not safe. She says to come inside.”

“Did she run out of people to yell at?” Tinkletoes asks.

“No. Writer Lady is concerned for your safety. You must come inside.”

Both men stand up. Walking across the shed and opening the door Tinkletoes, Carp, and TP look outside. The sky is dark as night, illuminated fully by large bursts of lightning. Both men take hold of the door to keep it from blowing open completely. Closing the door and stepping further inside Tinkletoes says, “Writer Lady's worried about this? This is nothing. We're perfectly safe.”

It Hits The Fan

“Has your grandma always been like that?” Carp asks.

“My whole life.” Tinkletoes says.

“Sorry Man. But that explains a lot. No wonder you have such messed up ideas about women.”

“That's Grandma. She's not a woman.” Tinkletoes says shaking his head he walks across the yard to inspect the damaged shed more closely.

Carp follows Tinkletoes into the shed.

“What do you think we should do to fix this?” Tinkletoes asks sticking his finger through one of the shed's numerous holes.

“Of course she's a woman. If she's not a man, she has to be a woman.” Carp responds.

Tinkletoes rolls his eyes and holds up one hand, counting off non-male categories. “Moms, Grandmas, Sisters, Teacher-Aunts and Women.”

“Teacher-Aunts?” Carp asks.

“Teachers and Aunts?” Tinkletoes says. “I figured this stuff out when I was four. Get with the program buddy.” He says patting Carp on the back.

“Not all teachers are women.” Carp says. “Besides, shouldn't Teachers and Aunts be on separate fingers?”

“Not when you're four. I always had a snake, lizard, or my favorite car in the other hand. I wasn't about to put that down.” Tinkletoes explains. “What about duct tape? We can cover the holes with that. Both sides of the holes. A coat of paint on the outside...”

“In all this time you've never felt compelled to change your system?” Carp asks.

“No. Why?”

“Because they are all women.”

“No. A woman dresses pretty, smells nice, and shares her cookies.” Tinkletoes says.

“That's your description of a woman?” Carp asks.

“Yes. I...”

“Let me guess you came up with that when you were four too.”

Tinkletoes nods proudly.

“Things have changed a lot since we were four Tinkletoes. There's a lot more to being a woman than looking pretty and smelling nice. Don't you think it's time to change your definition?” Carp asks.

Tinkletoes moves around the shed in search of duct tape. “If it ain't broke, don't fix it.” Tinkletoes says. “My definition ain't broke.”

“You have no idea how messed up your thinking is do you?”

“So. Duct tape over the holes?”

“Tink. You destroyed the shed. You have to replace the shed.”

“She has another one right there.” Tinkletoes says pointing the towards the other shed.

“You still have to replace the shed.”

Tinkletoes stares at Carp pointing at the other shed.

“Fine. Tape over the holes and paint it. Buy yourself some time. You'll still owe her a new shed. What are you going to do about the lawn mower?” Carp asks.

“I was thinking...duct tape?”

Exiting the shed, Tinkletoes and Carp stand in the yard and look at the mower. It is riddled with bullet holes. Patches of metal are missing from the mower's brightly colored shell.

Standing next to the mower is Writer Lady. Her eyes large, face pale with shock at the sight of the lifeless machine that used to be her lawn mower. “My mower. What happened to my mower?” She asks.

“It's kind of a long story.” Carp says.

“The lawn mower. You shot up the lawn mower.” Writer Lady says. “Why?”

“We got permission from Mr. Donut and the others to have the shooting range. The men decided they wanted to watch. Participate too.”

Writer Lady slowly lowers herself to her knees looking at her mower with sadness. “But why?” She asks.

“Mr. Donut well he found Tinkletoes' Uzi.”

“Mr. Donut came outside?” Writer Lady asks.

“Tinkletoes was teaching Mr. Donut about the gun. It accidentally went off.” Carp lowers his voice and turning his head says quickly. “A few hundred times.”

“But the mower was in the shed.” Writer Lady says. Realizing what must have happened she stands up and looks around Tinkletoes and Carp to check the condition of the shed. “What the...?”

“Try not to get too upset.” Carp says. “We're going to fix this. Tinkletoes already has a plan to fix it.” Carp smiles nervously.

Writer Lady moves her gaze from the shed to Carp then Tinkletoes. She looks back at the shed. At Tinkletoes. “You...” She says to Tinkletoes. “You did this. You were supposed to have a plan, fail safes, the help of a faerie. Where was TP when all of this was happening?”

“Things were going so good. I kind of...gave him the day off.” Tinkletoes says looking everywhere except at Writer Lady's face.

“You gave him the day off?”

“Well. Yeah.” Tinkletoes responds.

“That's great. That's just great. Was anyone hurt?” Writer Lady asks her voice shaking with anger.

“No Ma'am.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Writer Lady says starting to turn towards the door to the house.

Tinkletoes lets out the breath he was holding.

Abruptly turning around and pointing to the lawn mower Writer Lady says, “You're going to fix this.” Pointing to the shed she says, “You're going to fix all of this” gesturing to both casualties with her finger. “Now.”

Once again, she starts to walk to the house. Looking down Writer Lady sees Tinkletoes' ammo bag. Squatting, she looks at what's inside. “Brought the entire arsenal with you today?” she asks.

“Pretty much.” Tinkletoes says. “Impressive isn't it?”

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes then looks into the bag. She looks back up at Tinkletoes, “Yes I have to say it is very impressive,” giving him a bright, sexy smile. Fluidly rising from her spot ammo bag in hand.

Tinkletoes steps forward to grab the bag from her stopping only when a taser is inches away from his face.

“Don't even think about it soldier boy.”

If You Kill It You Gotta Eat It

Tinkletoes and Carp slowly raise their heads listening for any unusual sounds, sniffing the air for smoke, looking for flickers of flame. There was nothing. They rise, helping Mr. Donut get up after they do.

“It's okay. The rest of you can get up now.” Tinkletoes calls to the elderly men at the south end of the yard.

They rise, slowly. Helping each other as needed.

“That's a lot of bullet holes.” Mr. Morely says.

“Sure is.” One of his companions agrees.

“A shame.”

Comments continue to sprinkle through the yard.

“That was a damn fine shed too.”

“What a waste.”

“I hope there wasn't any gasoline in there.” Carp says.

“She stores that in the other shed.” Tinkletoes says. Looking at Mr. Donut he says, “Well Sweets that was your first time with an Uzi. Let's see what you caught.”

Carp makes his way over to the shed's remains. Walking up the ramp he opens the door and disappears inside. He emerges pushing Writer Lady's lawn mower. “I've got good news and I've got bad news.” Carp says, “The good news is nothing punctured the gas tank. You two managed to destroy this mower without a single explosion.”

“And...” Tinkletoes says.

“I have a question for you Tinkletoes. How would you like it?”

“How would I like what?”

“How would you two like to eat this shed and lawn mower?” Carp asks. “If you kill it you gotta eat it. That's your rule isn't it?”

Mr. Donut pales, “I can't eat that stuff. I'm an old man.”

“Don't worry Sweets no one is eating metal.” Tinkletoes says. “Very funny Carp. Ha. Ha.”

“Sweets?” A voice calls.

“Busted.” A random voice is heard from the back of the yard.

“Sweets. Sweets Donut. Is that you?” A woman's voice calls from behind the recently deceased shed. She appears on the far side of the yard directly across from Tinkletoes and Mr. Donut. The new arrival is a tall woman. She is wearing thick glasses and a stern expression. The yard becomes quiet. The song of birds in the trees is barely audible. The dark blue t-shirt that says “Happy Birthday America” on it and matching capris are the complete opposite to her expression.

“Jean?” Mr. Donut asks.

“Yeah. Let me take a better look at you.” Jean says taking a few steps closer. “It's you alright. You look a little thinner. That's to be expected. It's good to see you came outside, about time.”

“I know.” Mr. Donut mutters.

“A 94 year old man wallowing like that. Your daddy would have had your hide for such behavior. Men these days...” Jean says, looking closely at Tinkletoes, “they've all gone too soft.”

Tinkletoes pales at the older woman's scrutiny and looks at the ground.

“Now that you're outside, I've been meaning to have a few words with you.”

“This isn't really the best time.” Mr. Donut says.

“The thing is I've been waiting 47 years to have this conversation. I really don't care if it's a good time. Y'all better sits your butts down.” Jean says looking at the group assembled in Writer Lady's backyard, “This could take a while.”

Carp and Tinkletoes double time it into the second shed to retrieve lawn chairs. When everyone is safely and comfortably seated in a semi-circle around Jean the real fun starts.

“Sweets Donut. Who said you could sit down?” Jean asks. “Stand up. Now. First of all I want you to know I never liked you. Most people know that. It's not like it's a secret or anything. I have not liked you since we were in school. What most people don't know is not only have I not liked you but I feel that way for a good reason. You Sweets Donut broke the heart of my best friend. If I had my way you would have been horse whipped years ago.”

Mr. Donut stands there in stunned silence.

“Do you remember Frances? Frances Morely?” Jean asks.

Sweets looks over at Mr. Morely.

“Francie did have a crush on you in school. I thought you knew that.” Mr. Morely says to Sweets.

“That's what I thought too.” Jean says. “It's a crush it will pass. She'll meet somebody. That will be the end of it. It wasn't. She lived a spinster's life happily. Wanting to be ready to marry when you were. She waited. Through her youth, when she was still young enough to have a family because she wanted to be with you even more. After all that time, over twenty years, you up and married Clara. Breaking her heart.”

“I didn't know. She married Kip, we continued seeing each other at dinners, bar-b-ques, picnics. She has always been pleasant...she makes the best pound cake I've ever had.” Sweets says.

“She made that pound cake for you.” Jean says.

“All this time?”

“In 1934, the year you and Mo graduated from the local school Francie made a pound cake for the dessert table. It was the first cake she baked all by herself. She was proud to bring it to her big brother's party. You said you loved it. When she fell for you a few years later she started making that pound cake, taking it to parties you would both be at hoping you would notice her.”

“I never did.”

“I'm surprised you noticed the pound cake you...you dunce! As for her marrying Kip, she never would have married Kip if I hadn't of pushed her. That was my fault. Anyway, Kip died. Clara passed a couple of years ago. When that happened I promised myself I would do what I could to try to help Frances. So!” Jean exclaims making everyone in the yard jump in their seats. “Here I am helping.” Jean leans in and looks Sweets in the eye “Stay Here!” she instructs. Turning around she heads over the shed. “Come on Francie let's go. You been waitin' your entire life for this don't leave now.” Jean says gently. “Get over here. Now. I don't want to have to drag your ass. Come on. Come on. That's good.” Jean reappears from behind the shed with a petite woman with big dark eyes and a weak smile. The pale flowered dress she is wearing looks just as timid as she is.   Francis is a holding plate in her hands which are shaking.

The two women are a sight making their way across the lawn. A study in large and small, loud and quiet, sturdy and fragile.

“Hi.” Sweets says to Frances.

The tiny woman manages to squeak out a return greeting and holds the plate out to him.

“Is this for me?” He asks.

Frances nods.

Sweets lifts the foil from the plate and takes a peek. “Pound cake. I love your pound cake Francie. How did you know?”

Frances smiles.

“You have been seducing me with these pound cakes for decades. I was wondering would you like to go out sometime?” Sweets asks.

Frances nods.

“Okay. I have to say this will go better if you talk.”

Frances nods.

“Can I walk you home?” He asks.

More nodding.

“I guess we'll get to the talking part eventually.” Turning to Jean Sweets says, “Thank you for setting things straight.”

“Thank you for being better than I expected.” Jean says.

Sweets turns to Tinkletoes and Carp. “Thank you both for helping me get out of the house. Start being me again. Playing with the guns and knives was interesting too.”

“You're welcome.” Carp says.

“Do us a favor. Don't do it again.” Tinkletoes says.

Mr. Donut nods, “That will not be a problem. I am happier with my guitar in my hands. It was nice meeting you both.”

“Don't forget Sweets you're one of the guys.” Carp says.

“How does a guy say good-bye then?”

“See you around.” Tinkletoes says.

“See you around.”

With the excitement over, the yard clears out quickly leaving Tinkletoes and Carp alone with Jean.

“This mess is your doing, isn't it young man?” Jean asks.

Tinkletoes studies the ground “Yes Ma'am.”

“I can't believe this. A grown man making a mess like this. If your grandfather were alive...”

“If Grandpa were alive he would've been here too.”

“Don't you talk back to me. I know who I married. Believe me when I say your grandfather would have known better than to set up a shooting range in town. That man was all about safety first. Safety first. Having a party at someone's house when they aren't home. Shooting up their shed...”

Tinkletoes continues studying the ground.

“I won't be telling your mother about this.”

“Thank you Ma'am.” Tinkletoes says looking at Joan.

“I'm going now. Clean up this mess. Don't forget to make amends. Call your mother.”

Jean exits the yard allowing Tinkletoes, Carp and nature to breathe normally again.

“That was your grandma?” Carp asks.

“Yeah. That was her.”

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...”