The Bear In The Room

“I can't believe it. I can't believe it.” One voice calls from the crowd.

“It's Monitor Man!” Another pixie squeals.

The crowd of pixies turn away from the podium to face Tinkletoes and Monitor Man.

“I Love You”, “He's so Enchanting” and “Monitor Man Sparkles!” can be heard throughout the room.

“Are those...pixies?” Monitor Man asks.

Tinkletoes nods and whispers. “Yeah pixies and they love you.” Tinkletoes waves and smiles. “We're gonna talk to them. I'll do the talking. Do whatever I tell you.”

Monitor Man looks at Tinkletoes and begins to protest. Tinkletoes turns to Monitor Man and lowers his voice. “Let me put this to you another way. Do what I say or I will hurt you. Physically.”

Monitor Man looks Tinkletoes in the eyes and says, “I think I can take it.”

“You're under contract right?” Tinkletoes asks quietly. “A little bird told me that you're scheduled to be on camera a lot this year. I wonder if your directors, producers, your agents are going to like it if something really bad happens to your pretty face. You need to ask yourself if you can afford a series of lawsuits because reconstructive surgery can take a long time to recover from. How long is it going to take before you start getting the really good roles again?”

“First of all, you don't scare me.” Monitor Man says calmly scrolling through his phone. “My calendar is full. I have a new project that I would like to start next year. I need this year's money for that. I can't do anything that requires a lot of press time...”

“This is an...” Tinkletoes says.

“appearance” Dobby says. “This is just an appearance.”

“Smiling and taking pictures with a lot of tiny high voiced fans.” Tinkletoes adds guiding Monitor Man into the kitchen and behind the podium. “I told you that Monitor Man and I were buds.” Tinkletoes announces. He is standing next to Monitor Man and has his arm draped around the actor's shoulder. “I have one more thing to share about my pending um...enlistment. Be reassured that you will be in good hands and stuff because Monitor Man is going to be with me the whole time. He's gonna be Vice President. Tell the entire magical world that Tinkletoes and Monitor Man are taking over the White House.”

Flashes go off amongst high pitched squeals of delight and rapid chatter.

Monitor Man turns and stares at Tinkletoes. “What did you just say?” He asks.

“Just nod and smile.” Tinkletoes says grinning. “Nod and smile.”

TP floats on the air between the self-proclaimed mercenary and the actor. “Silly Humans.” He giggles as a flash goes off memorializing the historical moment for all.

Carp looks away from the commotion in the kitchen when his phone vibrates, pulling it out of his pocket he reads the display. He scrolls, reads a little more, smiles and starts tapping away. “This is going to be so much fun.” He sings quietly to himself as he makes his way down the hall and into High Command.

Writer Lady hears the door to High Command open and close behind her. “I'm writing. This had better be good.” She says to her visitor without turning away from the monitor.

“It's fate. Fate's a good reason.” Carp says.

“What's happened?” Writer Lady asks turning around to find Carp butted up against the door scrolling through his phone at a furious pace.

“I knew it. Everything has shifted.” Carp mutters.

“What?”

“I knew this was a sign.”

“What is going on Carp?”

Carp holds his phone up to the light and mutters. “Ha ha! That's it! That's the stuff!”

“Carp!”

“It's Monitor Man. He's returned.” Carp says looking at Writer Lady.

“What?”

“Monitor Man...that incredibly pretty, talented, sexy man with the sweetest butt on either side of the Mississippi? He's here.”

Writer Lady smiles. “'That's nice. Did he come for a visit?” She asks.

“He came here for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“He came here for you.” Carp says. “You my dear are going to be swept away to somewhere romantic. Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere exotic. Or maybe just his place.” Carp takes Writer Lady by the hand and yanks her out of the Big Writing Chair. “Move your ass girl. It's time to pack.”

Writer Lady rights herself, “Wait a sec. Did Monitor Man say that he came here for me?”

“He showed up and he's yummy. We're running with it.” Carp says pulling on her hand.

“Where have I heard that before.” Writer Lady says dropping Carp's hand and sitting back down.

“Why else would he be here?” Carp asks. “Let's go! Your clothes are terrible. There's probably going to have to be shopping.”

Writer Lady doesn't move.

“He wouldn't have had to come all of this way again if you had just kissed him the last time that you saw him.”

“He said that he was seeing somebody.” Writer Lady argues.

“Girl you have got to learn to read people better. If you are standing in front of someone and talking to them you can say that you're seeing them. It doesn't make things permanent.”

“Do you have any idea how underhanded, conniving and slutty you sound right now?”

“Too Alexis Carrington?”

“Yes.”

“I checked all of my sources and they say that everything has shifted and now is the time for you and Monitor Man. It's fated.”

“If it's 'fated' then everything will fall into place whether I do anything or not. I will not get in between a couple. I don't do those things.”

“Don't worry I will.” Carp says.

“You won't either.” Writer Lady says.

“I don't know why you're so worried.”

“I have morals.” She says.

“Monitor Man dumped that girlfriend months ago.”

“What about the one that came after her?” Writer Lady asks.

“I checked with my sources there really isn't anyone special right now.” Carp says.

Writer Lady glares at Carp.

“It's true.” He says as he crosses his fingers behind his back.

“I'm not sure I believe you.”

“Come with me and find out. Please?”

Writer Lady doesn't move. “I don't need to—Fate remember?”

“Fate isn't asking you to do anything...just cooperate.” Carp says.

“I do want to say 'Hello'” Writer Lady says rising from her chair.

“Are you going to wear that?”

When The Bear Gets Past Security

“Space aliens. I was talking about shooting space aliens.”

There is a brief silence then a burst of activity and flashes go off.

“If you have a problem with space aliens what is your philosophy regarding the magical community?” A pixie asks looking at Tinkletoes scornfully.

“I want the beings of the magical community to be safe.” He answers.

“All of them?” Another pixie asks.

Tinkletoes looks at TP, Carp and Dobby for guidance turning back to the pixies he says, “Yeah.”

“That means pixies as well as faeries.” The first pixie says.

“As well as dragons and demons. DE-MONS!” Another pixie stresses in a high pitched voice.

“Dragons and demons too.” Tinkletoes agrees.

A new pixie enters the pool of peporters (those are pixie reporters just so you know) he stops and whispers something to the first pixie. “What about Ninja Zombies?”

“Um...um...” Tinkletoes says his mouth flopping open, closing, and flopping back open.

“Isn't it true that you do not like Ninja Zombies?”

Tinkletoes does not answer.

“Isn't it true that you helped destroy an entire generation of Ninja Zombies during their transition?” She asks.

“They took over a convention center and were destroying everything they could.”

“Didn't you...”

“It was a sci-fi convention.” Tinkletoes clarifies.

The pixies glare...seething with indignation.

“Browncoats were everywhere. In danger. I had to keep my crew safe. Dobby's mom, Writer Lady, and her sister The Lady With The Long Golden Hair were caught in the fray.” He says gesturing to Dobby with a nod of his head. “Monitor Man too. Without my help a lot of people would have died that day.”

The crowd is unimpressed.

“Wouldn't you have done the same? Wouldn't you have saved your friends?” He asks.

The new pixie whispers in the first pixie's ear. The pixie looks up, glares at Tinkletoes and says, “Monitor Man is your friend? My sources say that the last time you thought he was on his way over you put up a six foot barb wire fence around this house. Would you care to comment?”

“No I would not care to comment. Monitor Man and I are buds. We hang out all the time.”

“Really.” The pixie counters. “Because my sources say...”

“Your sources don't know squat.”

Several pixies start yelling at once. The high pitched squeals are less than attractive. Tinkletoes puts his hands to his ears to block out the sound turning to Dobby, Carp, TP and Dylan he says, “What the...heck is this?”

“This is running for President. Silly human.” TP giggles.

“I told you that there were easier ways to be called Commander.” Carp says.

Tinkletoes looks at the crowd of pixies that is making its way closer and closer to the podium. “How do I shut them up?”

“You don't.” TP says giggling.

“There has to be a way.” Tinkletoes says. “A good grenade would clear the room.” He says reaching into a pocket not finding what he is looking for he keeps checking pockets. “I don't have any grenades.”

“This is politics, no grenades allowed. At least not the kind that you're used to.”

Knock...knock

“So what do I do?” Tinkletoes asks.

Knock...knock...knock

“Is someone at the door?”

Knock...Knock...Knock!

“All these annoying pixies taking up space and no one can answer the damn door.” Tinkletoes says.

KNOCK...KNOCK...KNOCK!

“I'll get it.” He says looking at the mass of pissed off pixies. “At least I'll get a break from this.” Tinkletoes skirts...sorry he's a tough guy...pants his way past the crowd of pixies and answers the door.

“Hi.” Monitor Man says smiling.

Tinkletoes slams the door and stands with his back to it. “Speak of the devil. The bear is at the door.” He mutters. “I knew I should have left that barbed wire up.”

“Who is it?” Dobby asks.

Tinkletoes doesn't answer.

Carp enters the living room, “Well...?”

Nothing.

“You are acting strange today.” Carp walks around Tinkletoes and looks through the glass. “It looks like things just got a lot more interesting.” The assassin squeals with delight running around Tinkletoes and Dobby to throw open the front door. “HI!” Carp says. “Come on in!” He says grabbing Monitor Man by the arm and pulling. “It's cold outside but it's warm in here. Can I take your coat? Your shirt?”

Monitor Man slowly removes his coat. “Thank you. I'd like to keep wearing the rest of my clothes.”

He says.

“Suit yourself.” Carp says. “If you change your mind...” He says heading out of the room.

“Yeah.”

Carp stops in the hall and takes in a deep sniff of Monitor Man's coat before disappearing into Writer Lady's bedroom.

“Was he just smelling my coat?” Monitor Man asks Dobby.

The ginger tabby coughs uncomfortably. “TP put him under a spell. He has to sniff things like a dog would.”

“Watch out for your crotch.” Tinkletoes says with a wry grin.

Monitor Man shifts uncomfortably.

Tinkletoes' Platform

“You don't enlist.  You have to be elected.”  Carp says.

“I've always stood out among the competition.  This shouldn't be too hard.” Tinkletoes says.

“There are nearly twenty other candidates currently running for President.” Carp points out.

“Less than twenty huh?  Light competition.  You keep acting like this is gonna be hard or something.”

“You have to be chosen by a majority of your peers.”  Peter adds.

“I got along with everyone in my company.  I'll have no trouble getting elected.”

“He doesn't understand.”  Dylan says looking at TP.

TP spins midair and in a swirl of activity does a costume change.  The faerie appears in powdered wig, bleached shirt, waistcoat, frock coat and breeches as worn during colonial times.  TP clasps his hands behind him and begins the lesson.

“There has been a President of the United States since 1789.  He is an official elected by a majority in a general election.  These are not your exact peers.  The people you are counting on to elect you to office are the registered voters of this country.  They like a candidate who is a wealthy landowner.  He also needs to look good in a powdered wig.  A...choo!”  TP sneezes into a delicate handkerchief with elegant flourish.

“In other words, it's a popularity contest.” House's words carry into the kitchen from the bonus room.  “You know like in high school.  Who were the most well known people in high school?”

“The ones with the coolest cars.”  Tinkletoes answers.

“Tell us Tinkletoes...did you have a cool car?”   She asks.

“No.”  He admits.  “I enjoyed beating the tar out of the kids who did and the kids who made fun of the kids who didn't have cool cars and the kids who made fun of the kids that didn't have cars.  The kids that had bad attitudes.  The kids that didn't observe school rules.  The kids that were rude to the teachers and the janitor.”

“It sounds like you beat everybody up.”  Carp says.

“Only the people that didn't do what I told them.  High school kids can be pretty dense.”

“Can I be the one to tell him that he has to campaign for votes?  I really want to be the one to explain the whole being nice to people thing.”  House says.

“Something you need practice with darling.”  Mural Man's answer can be heard from the other room.

“I'll practice on you anytime.”  She purrs.

Dylan looks at Dobby and rolls his eyes.  “Grown-ups.”  He says.  The ginger tabby nods in agreement.

“You sir need to become a gentleman.”  TP says.

“Didn't we already do that?”  Carp and Mural Man ask simultaneously.

“You tried.”  Tinkletoes says with a grin.  “I am motivated to get this job.   I'll tell you what, I promise to shower, shave, and shine my combat boots everyday.”

“Hmm...” TP responds pacing back and forth through the air as he ponders Tinkletoes' proposal.

“I'll wear clean cammos too.”

TP looks at Tinkletoes without answering.

“I'll clean my gun and I promise to leave the grenades at home.”

“There are no grenades when running for office.”  Dylan informs Dobby.

“Oy vey.”  Carp groans shaking his head.

“Practice.  You need practice, sir.”  TP says.

“But before he practices he needs a platform.” Carp says.

“No I don't.  The ceiling is too low in this kitchen.   I don't need anything to stand on.”

“Not a platform.  A platform.”  Dobby says.

“I'm not wearing those ridiculous shoes either.  I was born in combat boots.  Combat boots are what I wear.”

“Your platform means what your views are on the issues dummy.”  House says.

“Darling.”  Mural Man warns.

“Sorry sugar lips.  It just slipped out.”

“Slipped out completely on purpose.”  Carp sings softly.

“What is your platform going to be?”   Dylan asks.

Tinkletoes thinks for a moment and says,  “That's simple.  Do what I say.   I have all the guns.”

“You need more than that sir.”  Founding Father TP says.

“Yes what about your stance on the issues?”  Carp asks.

“Stance?”  Tinkletoes repeats.

“You have to convince people that you are going to run the country in their best interests.”

“Why?”

“No one is going to vote someone into office that they know is going to make decisions that will affect them negatively.”   Carp explains.

“I'm running for President.  What I say goes.”

“He doesn't get it.”   Dylan says.

“How about this...what are your philosophies regarding the current issues in this country?”  Carp asks.

“Everyone is going to do what I tell them.  There won't be any issues.”

“Gun control.”  Carp says.

“I'll have all the guns.”

Everyone looks at Tinkletoes hoping for something better.

“Okay...the police and the military can keep their guns but they can only use them at work.”

“What about all of the private citizens that currently own firearms?”

“I'm taking those away.”

Light dims in the room then brightens.  Every open space has been filled with pixies.  Pixies with microphones, recording devices, and cameras of every sort in hand.  A voice squeals, “Over here Mr. Tinkletoes” and when Tinkletoes looks up a flash goes off from a vintage camera blinding him for a moment.

“What about the Constitution?”  One pixie asks.

“Don't you think questions about my health are a little bit personal?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“A citizen's right to bear arms.”  A second pixie prompts.

“I don't care what people wear.  If they want to go sleeveless it's fine by me.”  He says proudly.

“How do you feel about immigration?”  Another pixie asks.

Tinkletoes leans over and asks Dobby “What are they talking about?”

“What is your plan should aliens arrive at our borders.”   House whispers baiting Tinkletoes.

“All aliens will be shot on sight.”   Tinkletoes announces with a smile.

There is an uproar, all the pixies start chattering at once.

Tinkletoes feels a tug on his pant leg.  The self-proclaimed mercenary looks down.  “Make sure they know you're talking about space aliens.”

“Who'd they think I was talking about?”

Tinkletoes' New Mission

“Everything all right in here?”  Tinkletoes asks calling just inside the doorway.

Writer Lady turns to look at him, “Everything is fine” she answers and turns back smiling at Mural Man and House.

Tinkletoes looks in the same direction.   “Hi” he says looking at Mural Man.

“Hi.”  Mural Man says pulling back from House.  He steps to her side and holds her close.

“Making up for lost time, huh? How long were you gone?   Ten minutes?” Tinkletoes asks.

“About that.”  Mural Man answers.

“Good to see you back.”

“It's good to be back.”  Mural Man answers looking at House.

“Can I have a word with you?”  Tinkletoes asks looking at Writer Lady.  She joins Tinkletoes in the laundry room.  “Are you okay?”  He asks.

“Yeah.  Why wouldn't I be?”

“I heard you talking about dead husbands, jealousy, Mural Man, there might have been something about Monitor Man being the man of your dreams.”

“How did you hear that?  You were supposed to be fixing the sink.”

“You remember earlier when I told you about the sharp eyes and keen memory? I can hear pretty good too.”

“Pretty good?”

“It's not a registered super power.  Not yet.  It will be.”

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes and taps her foot.  Slowly.

“I might have had Dylan listen at the door for a second.”  He admits.
“For a second?”

“Maybe a little longer.”

“How long?”

“The whole time.”  Tinkletoes answers.

“What part of 'I'm not talking girl talk in front of you' don't you understand?” Writer Lady asks.  “That conversation was private.  It wasn't meant for other ears.”

“Are you okay?”

“I'm okay.  For the record, I didn't say that Monitor Man was the man of my dreams I said that he was a man that I could only dream of being with.”

“Isn't that the same thing?”   Tinkletoes asks.

“Yes...no.   I don't know!”  Writer Lady looks around at her wet kitchen.  “This place has been drenched.  So have you.”  She leaves the room returning with a mop.   “Here!  Hold this.”  She leaves again, returning with a clean, dry towel.  “Take this!”  Writer Lady and Tinkletoes trade.  He dries off as she mops the water up off of the floor.  He studies her as she works.   “What!”  She says on her way out of the room.

“What, what?”

“You're staring at me.”  She says.

“No.   I was watching you.”

“Did I miss anything in front of the stove?”

“No.”

“Stop looking at me.  It's weird.”

Tinkletoes turns to dry off noticing his reflection in the window.  “It's the whole 'wet' look isn't it?  I'm too sexy.  You can't take it.”

There is a silence.   And then...

“You are too sexy for me.”   Writer Lady confesses, her back to Tinkletoes. “I can't take it anymore.”

She turns to face him then crosses the room quickly, a woman with a purpose and because it's not very far either.   “I don't think I can control myself any longer.” She says, handing Tinkletoes the mop. “Don't say anything.  I want to remember you just like this.”  She says and leaves the room.

Dobby enters as she is leaving.

“Females.”  Tinkletoes says.  He has draped the towel over his shoulder and is slowly mopping the floor.

“Mom is a simple woman.”

Tinkletoes looks at Dobby.

“You spied on her.  It made her mad.  She isn't going to let you have an ego building moment when she's mad.”

“So she left me holding the mop.”

“You have been temporarily demoted Commander.”

“What does a guy have to do to get promoted again?”

“Mom says that men underestimate how sexy they look while cleaning.”

Tinkletoes looks around the room, “In a self-cleaning house?”   He asks and continues mopping.   He shakes his head as he works.   “No.  I'm the man.  I have to do things my way.  She'll call me Commander on my terms.”  Tinkletoes says.  He rests the mop against the cabinet before preparing to leave the room slipping on a puddle of water and landing on his back.  He doesn't move.

“Tink?”  Dobby calls.

The kittens respond to Dobby's call running into the kitchen then down Tinkletoes' face and chest.  Spots and Smudge stop to have a wrestling match on his stomach.   The self-proclaimed mercenary does not move until they run across his most delicate parts--claws extended.  His body convulses quickly bringing Tinkletoes up to a seated position.

“Are you okay?”  Dobby asks.

“I'm okay.”

“Does he need help?”  Dylan asks.  The tow headed boy is standing in the entry, a game controller is in his hand.

“I've got it.”  He says standing up.   “And I know how to become Commander again.”

Dobby, Dylan, and the kittens look at Tinkletoes waiting for the big announcement.

“I'm going to become the Commander-In-Chief then she has to call me Commander.”

House's groan can be heard from the bonus room.  “I told you the ape would ruin it.   I knew this was coming.  I could smell the stupidity from here.”

“House darling...you are supposed to be nice.”  Mural Man says.

“Nice to you.  I have no trouble being nice to you.”  She purrs.

“What would be nice for me is if you apologized.”  Mural Man says.

“Sorry.”  House says half-heartedly(?) no it wasn't half.  It was quarter.  Quarter-heartedly.

“Silly humans doing funny things.”  TP sings flying into the kitchen.

“It's not funny.”  Tinkletoes says.

“No it's not.”  Carp says following TP.  “Do you know who the Commander-In-Chief of the United States is?”

“Whoever's at the top of the chain of command?”   He asks.

“The President.”  Carp says.

“I'm going to get that job and then Writer Lady will call me Commander again.”

“There are better ways to do this.”  Carp sings.

“She would call you Mr. President.”  Dobby says.

“Not Commander?”

“No.”

“But I would be the guy in charge?”

“Yes.”

“I'll change it to Commander when I get the job.”   Tinkletoes announces.  “Where do I enlist?”

Girl Talk

“What was that?”  Writer Lady asks.

“I don't know.”  He answers.   Tinkletoes turns to Carp.    “Did you say something?”

“No.”

Both kittens are climbing on Carp and the assassin is scratching chins and rubbing ears.  There is a smile of contentment on his face.  The “No” startles Smudge who slinks away.  Spots jumps off of Carp's boot and lays down on the floor showing his belly.

“That's no way to train soldiers Carp.”

“You gave me kittens to train not people.  Kittens.”

Writer Lady turns to watch Carp as well.  “A kitten showing its belly is a sign of trust.  It could be seen as submissive behavior.”  She says turning back to more immediate problems.

“Carry on Training Officer.”  Tinkletoes commands with a nod.

Carp does not respond.  The kittens are chasing his hand.

“Why don't you do that lady stuff with her?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Lady stuff.  Do you mean girl talk?”

“Yeah that.”

“Go away.”   Writer Lady says.

Tinkletoes stands and looks at Writer Lady without saying anything.

“I'm not making girl talk in front of...”

“a man?”

“No.  You.  I won't do it in front of you.”

“I'm just too sexy for you.  I get you all flustered.”  Tinkletoes says grinning.

One corner of Writer Lady's lips curve up into a slight smile.

“Is that yes?”  He asks.  “Or no?”

She smiles a little bit more.

“You're not going to tell me are you?”

Writer Lady grins.  “Exactly.   Now go away.”

“What am I supposed to do alone in the dark?”

“Go.”  She turns back to House.   “House?”  She says.  “It is devastating what you are going through.   Losing the man you love.  Mural Man was here with you sharing, laughing with you um...holding you.   A man who was with you day in and day out and suddenly he's gone.  A woman feels so alone.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better?”  House asks.  “Because you aren't helping.   At all.”

“I know how it feels.  To be that sad.  That lonely.   Yearning for one more night, hour, longing to have a few precious moments back again.”

“I'm grieving here.  My grief is much deeper than yours so if you would get to the point.”

“TP says that Mural Man isn't dead.  You can get him back House you just need to love him with more...depth.”

“I am a pictorial representation of a non-living object.   I cannot grow or change.  That evil little faerie knew that when he changed Mural Man.”

“TP's obnoxious but he wouldn't do that.”  Writer Lady says.

House glares at Writer Lady.

“When you and Mural Man first started interacting I hated it.  I didn't like it that he looked so much like Monitor Man.   I hated having the constant reminder.  I guess I was a little bit jealous.  You were just a house at first and then there you are days later getting friendly with the mural of a man that I could only dream of being with.   But Mural Man isn't Monitor Man.  He's a character all his own.  I came to get to know him as the ma...mural that he really is.  You say that you are only a house but you are capable of this type of growth.  I want you to be happy.   I want Mural Man to be able to come back and for the two of you to be happy.  I want to help you do this.  Since I have loved and lost I am going say something I miss about my late husband and then you say something you miss about Mural...”

“His butt.”  House says.

“Man.”   Writer Lady finishes.   “Okay let's try this.  I'm going to say that I loved his smile.  You are going to say...”

“I love his booty.”   House responds.

“This is gonna take a while.   We all know how special Mural Man's a**...butt is.  Try something else.”  Tinkletoes calls from across the room.

“No eaves dropping.”  Writer Lady says.

“There's nothing to do.”  He counters.

“Shhh...”

“She's shushing me.  I can pick off the enemy at 1000 yards and she's shushing me.”

“I miss cuddling with him.”  Writer Lady says.   “Your turn.”

“I miss his a...eyes.  I miss his eyes.”

“See...that wasn't hard.”

“House is still stuck on his looks.   You need to keep going.”  Tinkletoes says.

Writer Lady holds up the flashlight to her face and glares at Tinkletoes.

“I know shush.”

“I miss the way we used to laugh together.”

“Mural Man's um...”  House says stumbling a bit.   She looks at the pink unicorn sticker.   “His heart.  I miss his heart.  He was so kind, caring, and understanding.”

Something rattles in the kitchen the sound of rushing water can be heard in the distance.

“Crap.”   Tinkletoes mutters.  “I hope this flashlight's waterproof.”  The mercenary says stumbling his way back to the kitchen followed by Carp and the two kittens.

“He loved me so much.   I love him.”  House says.

More rattling is heard in the bathroom and another sound of rushing water.

“His heart is so kind and sweet just like the unicorn bandage.”

“Hey!  Make her stop crying before the main lines go!”  Tinkletoes calls.

“Just let me see him.  Please?  Let me tell him that I love him.   Then I'll take my punishment.   I'll go back to being a house and Mural Man can move on to faerie like we'd always planned.”

“You will have to stop crying.”  Writer Lady says looking into House's eyes. “You are damaging your foundation.”

House quietly nods.

“Thank you!”  Is heard coming from the kitchen.

“TP can you help us with this?  TP?”  Writer Lady looks up to find the faerie floating through the air slowly.  He is sitting in a crossed legged position wearing flannel pajamas with pink kittens on them.  He is crying.

“TP.”

“One minute please.”  He says wiping his eyes and blowing his nose into a lace trimmed handkerchief.  Wiggling his fingers he quickly unfolds Mural Man.  TP blows on his own thumb and Mural Man fills out into three dimensional form.  

The lights return with the light in House's eyes.
Mural Man reaches for House's hand.  With his touch she peels away from the wall and fills out into three dimensions.

“Mur...I'm sorry.”

“For what?”   Mural Man asks.

“For being mean, shallow, spoiled, pushy, demanding...mostly for never saying 'I love you.'”

“I love you too.”  He says holding her close.

Writer Lady and TP share a tearful glance as the two lovers are reunited.

Mural Man pulls back,  “Are you sure?   I don't look the same with all of these fold lines.”

“Mural Man I love you.”  House repeats and leans in for another embrace.   “Fold lines?  How many fold lines?”

The Butt Of The Problem

Tinkletoes stops just outside the entry to the living room.  “Things are kind of cramped in here so follow my footsteps exactly or you may step on something.”

“Okay.”   Writer Lady whispers.

They start shuffling into the room.   Writer Lady matching Tinkletoes' movements shuffle for shuffle.

“Um...” She says as she touches Tinkletoes lightly on the arm.

“Yeah?”

“Shouldn't you use the flashlight to check the floor?  That way we'll know where everyone is and we won't step on them.”

“No.  I was just in here.  I remember where everything and everyone is.   I'm a mercenary.  Mercenaries have sharp eyes and keen memories.”

“You're holding a flashlight, shouldn't you use it?  It will help prevent an accident.”

Tinkletoes turns around to face Writer Lady pointing to himself he says, “Mercenary.  Sharp eyes.  Keen memory.  I've got this.”   He turns and walks this time with the confident gait of a well trained soldier, slipping in the dark and landing on his butt.

Writer Lady turns on the flashlight and shines it around the room.  She and Tinkletoes find that all of the room's occupants are well away from them and crowded on the couch.  Tinkletoes' foot has once again found its way on to the pizza box.

“I thought I told everyone to stay put.”  He says.

“You didn't.”  Dylan says.

“You said that if we got stepped on that it was our fault.”  Peter says.

“Why didn't you move the pizza box?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Oops,”  Dylan says.   “I forgot.”

“I was gone for five minutes.”

“These things happen?”

“Come and get this box so Writer Lady and I can get to the bottom of things.”

The two boys look at each other and laugh.

Tinkletoes stands up.  “Let's get going.”  He says and they continue through the kitchen and into the laundry room.

“Are you okay?”  Writer Lady whispers once they are out of earshot.

Tinkletoes takes the flashlight from her and holds it up to his face so she can see his glare.

“You hit the floor pretty hard.”  She says.

He turns around, holding the light in front of him and continues into the bonus room without a word.  They find Carp sitting on the floor patiently waiting for the lights to return.  Each kitten has taken a position on either side of him.

“You evil little faerie.”  House screams looking at TP.

“Call me names all you want Paper Lady.  You can't hurt me.”  He says.

“Flutter close to an electrical outlet and say that.”  House says challenging TP.

“What's going on here?”  Writer Lady asks stepping past Tinkletoes and facing House.

“He's killed him.”  House yells gesturing to the wall next to and above her.  “My own sweet love is gone forever.”

“Is that Mural Man?”  Writer Lady asks peering at the sparkling pink unicorn bandage stuck to the wall.

“Yes it is.”   TP says.

“And you are dressed as a doctor...”   Writer Lady says to TP.

“So I could fix them.”   TP says.  “You're welcome.  Here's your bill.”

Writer Lady takes a bill from TP and reads it.  “Tinkletoes, this is for you.”  She says holding up Dr. TP's bill.   He accepts the bill, reads it, and tears it up.

“I am the doctor.”  TP says.  “You must pay.”

“No one here has a million dollars and turning Mural Man into a bandage is pretty shoddy work if you ask me.  If you want to charge these prices Doc you need to be pickier when choosing your patients.”

“Her cure and his cure are intertwined.”  Dr. TP says.

“Make him fix it.”  House cries.

Tinkletoes looks at Carp, steps over to where he is, squats down and gets brought up to speed.

Writer Lady looks at Dr. TP,  at the sticker,  at House,  then back at Dr. TP.  “She's so upset.  Can't you just bring him back?”  She asks.

“Dr. TP will bring him back when House behaves.”  The faerie says.

“I miss him so much.”  House cries.   “I need to see him.  Please?   Just a glimpse, to keep his memory alive.”

The faerie rolls his eyes.

Writer Lady finds a piece of a crayon and draws an outline of Mural Man's posterior on the wall around the sparkling unicorn sticker.  She looks at House hoping to see that she has calmed down.

“He was a little bit wider than that.”  House says.

Writer Lady adjusts the drawing.

“Wider.”  House says.

She adjusts the outline again.

“Can you make the cheeks look...fuller?” House asks.

There are more adjustments.

“Could you put a little shading just below the right cheek?  It will look more real that way.”
After complying, Writer Lady steps back from the wall to inspect her work.

House's lips turn up slightly to show her approval.  “Mur...what have they done to you my darling?”

“What the...”  Tinkletoes says joining Writer Lady in front of the wall.  “It looks like the Headless Horseman was attacked by a band of renegade toddlers.”

“Mur...if you hadn't have died so young.”  House croaks.

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes sadly.

“He's not dead.”  He tells her.

She continues looking at Mural Man's...mural(?) sniffling a little.

“He's not dead.”  Tinkletoes repeats.

“What?”   She asks.

“He's not dead.”  He says a third time.  “Dr. TP told House that when she proves that she can love Mural Man regardless of his physical attributes he can come back.   Why is she grieving?”

Writer Lady slowly turns her head and looks up at Tinkletoes.

“You're a girl.  You're supposed to know why another girl is carrying on.”  He says.

“You mean like we instinctively know how to wear make-up?”  She asks.

“Yeah.”

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes without speaking.

“How did you know how to wear those funny brown things you wear on your legs?”

“Pantyhose?”

“Yeah.”

“During high school all of the girls got together and decided that it would be fun to strangle our boyfriends until they passed out and tell them that aliens attacked and did anal probes on them.  We didn't know how to carry the weapon with us without there being questions.   We decided to wear them.”

“If you don't know all you have to do is say so.”  Tinkletoes says.

“I don't know.”

“Okay.”

“Did you still want to catch a movie this weekend?”  Writer Lady asks.

“We still haven't gone on that date yet have we?”

“No.”

“Maybe we should wait.”  Tinkletoes says.   “Get this business cleared up first.”

“Is a big guy like you scared of a fragile little woman like me?”

“No.”  He answers.  “It won't hurt to wait until I've burned all of your hose.” He mutters. 

This May Be A Focusing Issue...Or Marketing

I am a Storyteller.  This is my purpose.  To communicate to my fellow humans that they are not alone.  Helping the human race to re-discover the things that lightens ones load [not loosens because that would be a laxative] with amazing stories, tall tales, the magic in everyday things, and the humor in us all. [Looks around for humor, stands up, checks seat, looks under both feet, sniffs at pits]  It looks like I lost mine, this is awkward.

Find out what you love and what the world needs then combine them.

I love writing.   What does the world need?  The world needs to laugh.

I have been telling tall tales since I was potty trained, writing since I was a teenager (usually long sweeping monologues of tragedy that only a young girl can communicate or writing myself into my favorite television shows).  Eventually I started creating some things that were more solid: a humorous blog, a children's book, a cozy mystery with a few laughs.  When I found myself without a job for the first time in nearly a decade it was both a dream come true and a horrifying nightmare.  Everything I read said "Get out there!  Fulfill your dreams!  Do what you love!  You can do it!  Learn some new skills, focus, and you're on your way.”  I'm all about doing what I love.  I have been looking for that for several years now.  I was ready to jump into my dream job.   I still am.   Just so you know.  Given the current situation it seemed like it was the optimal time to venture forth into to new territories, push beyond my personal boundaries, do something I never thought possible and start doing work I would love.  Unfortunately...reality.  Yeah that.

I discovered that there is more to transitioning into a new line of work than saying “Look. I'm here!” and waving enthusiastically.   In my opinion, when it comes to making a big change if you know exactly what you are looking for, exactly where you want to do it, and you have a knack for networking you'll do okay.

Now for the rest of us...me for example.   Because I'm here and I know myself.   I like to think I know myself.  How well do we really know ourselves?  I'm confused.   Oh yeah...it's okay I know where I'm going with this.   I'm fairly sure I know where I'm going with this.

   I love writing.   I told you I knew where I was going with this.  Gold star for me!  Writing and I have had a lifelong "on again off again" relationship.  In recent years I have been doing it daily.   You know, writing?  It's great.  I feel like a kid in a candy store.   I want to try everything.  It's like making mud pies.   Wait...did I just go from candy to making mud pies?  That's a little bit weird.   [Looks at coffee mug, lifts cup, peers at bottom, sniffs, shakes head, puts cup down]  I want to explore as many types as possible.  Find out what I'm best at,  what energizes me, what I get the most satisfaction from.  Do I like a sprinkling of sand in my mud?  Do I like marbles on the pie or toy car tracks?  A piece of a straw.  Lots of pieces of straws.  A straw city...white and plastic with striped buildings butted up against each other.  There is nothing like writing, telling tall tales, and sharing engrossing stories.  I want to find ways to make people laugh, forget their troubles for a time, and reassure them that they are not alone.  I truly love it.

So do a lot of other people.  It seems like the world is brimming over with written content these days.

How does one get noticed?  I seriously cannot tell you.  I'm supposed to be sharing my wisdom aren't I?   This is awkward.

Since I'm the only one financing my adventure through life and although I am always writing I looked into other areas of employment as well.  Oh my goodness.

With the expansion of the Internet comes not only companies that are largely Internet based but there are entire areas of skill within that industry that did not exist before.  I knew that things had expanded but damn.  Similar jobs have different requirements.  Are there core skills needed that apply to most of these jobs?  I haven't found the master list.  I think they might be hiding it from me. They totally are, aren't they?

Job listings are confusing.   Have you noticed that?   It seems like they tell you everything or nothing.   I have to say that I love reading the ads for jobs in entertainment.   I do it when I need a break, some days there are lots of them. Especially on Fridays but sometimes on Tuesday because well...Monday.   They're so much fun.   It's hard not to apply for some of these jobs regardless of the fact that I wouldn't begin to know how to do them because I want to participate so much.  Is it okay to apply for something and add a note saying, "I wasn't serious but I had a lot of fun participating.  Have a nice day."?  (If you have to write a job ad look to Hollywood.  I don't know if they're getting results but some of these people sure are having fun.)

It really feels like "anything goes" when it comes to finding work now especially in the interview department.   I have had panel interviews for part time work (people tell me that this is normal but I'm not buying it).   I have gone in for interviews during which there was no interview only testing.   Logic testing, personality testing, etc...  Interviews where no one in the office could agree on what skills were needed for a job.   In that case one person liked me and the other one showed me the door as quickly and efficiently as possible.

If I can tell you anything about job hunting I can tell you this.   It is a personal journey.  One that has yet to end for me.  It may never end.  I hope it ends quickly for you.   You know, the job hunt, so you can message me and tell me where to go.  Wait a second...that didn't come out right.  I will keep writing, keep learning new skills, keep dreaming, keep cyber stalking (Not Stalking, politely watching from an appropriate distance because boundaries are good) Nerdist.com, Geek and Sundry, and Funny or Die among others (you know who you are) hoping to leave some samples (writing samples not the other kind because that would be awkward for everyone).  There are magazines on the list and other stuff too (I have a novel that needs a publisher btw) because if I was only looking at those three that would be weird.   Isn't stalking composed of fixating on one thing?  I'm confused.   Anyway, eventually someone is going to need a...um...um...me? Sooner or later someone is going to need me.  I will be here.  Or there.   Or online or...where was I going with this?  [Scratches head]   Let me look at the first sentence.  I am a storyteller.  Okay, maybe if I start at the beginning.  Once upon a time... Wait, has that phrase been copyrighted now?  This is awkward.

Lights Out

“My turn?” House asks. “There's nothing wrong with me.” She says.

“I would have to agree. House is beautiful.” Mural Man says.

“Oh Mur...” House purrs.

“People say I wrote fluff.” Carp mutters. “Dr. TP can you check Mural Man's brain. There might be a head injury that's causing this behavior.”

“No.” Dr. TP says. “The brain injury you are suggesting would create a distinct crinkling to his surface. It is House that has...um...how should I put this? Issues.”

“Issues? What issues.” House says.

“Not enough respect.” Dr. TP says. “You don't show Paper Man.”

“Mural Man.” Carp, House, and Mural Man say, correcting the faerie in unison.

“Mural Man.” Dr. TP says, not acknowledging his error. “The same respect he shows you, you do not show him. You are selfish, demanding, and most bossy.”

“I am not!” House yells. “Am I? AM I?” She demands looking at Mural Man. “If I was you would say something. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't YOU!”

Dr. TP continues speaking calmly finishing his thoughts. “When Diomedes was sick and you were a giant sewer pipe for dragon waste Mural Man stood by you, reassuring you of his love, telling you how beautiful you were dripping and smelling of dragon poop. Now when he has three scratches along his buttocks you are saying terrible things. You are acting like you only have love for the image of the man. The enchanted being that Mural Man is. He deserves to be loved. Every edge, every crinkle of his single dimension. One dimension is how Mural Man exists. It is how he was made. If you can't love him the way that he loves you then Dr. TP says that this affair is over.” The faerie raises his hand. A glittering light radiates out of his fingers. When the light reaches Mural Man he loses his glue layer and detaches from the wall. Dr. TP wiggles his fingers and Mural Man's edges come together folding Mural Man into a bandage sized square. When it's over all that remains visible is the sparkling pink unicorn bandage. The faerie stops wiggling his fingers and with a wave of his tiny arm the bandage affixes itself to the wall next to House up high and well out of the reach of both kittens and children. “Here is your Mural Man.” The faerie says. “Until you can love the imperfections, the scratches, and the scars this is all of Mural Man you will see.”

“NO!” House screams.

Everything goes dark.

In High Command:

“Well...crap.” Writer Lady says. “So much for continuing the story. Where did I put that flashlight?”

In the living room:

“What the...” Tinkletoes says, he is holding a controller in his hands.

“I didn't do it.” Dylan says. The boy is sitting next to Tinkletoes on the floor holding the other controller.

“Relax kid. I'm gonna find out what's going on. Stay put.” Tinkletoes says. “As soon as I find the flashlight.” There is a sound of footsteps running away and returning. The big red flashlight meets Tinkletoes' head with a thud. “Ouch.”

“I helped.” Dylan says.

“Yeah you did.” Tinkletoes says, taking custody of the flashlight. “Thanks. I've got this now.” He says standing up. “Everyone sit still and stay put.” Tinkletoes takes a step without using the flashlight tripping in sync with a terrifying scream. “Sh**,” he says, righting himself and looking around.

“Careful!” Dylan says.

“What was that?”

“You stepped on my dragon.”

“Sorry, Fur...”

“Furnatche.”
“Furnot...what?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Fur-nat-che.” Dylan repeats with emphasis.

“Sorry...lil' dragon.”
The mercenary tries again. There is another disagreeable noise.

“What's that?” Tinkletoes asks.

“My tail.” Diomedes says.

“Sorry.”

“Perhaps if you turned the flashlight on.” Diomedes suggests.

“Yeah, well...I was just getting to that.” Tinkletoes says, turning the flashlight on. “The lights go out and everybody gets worked up.” He says, slipping and falling he lands on his face. “What was that?”

“What was left of the pizza.” Peter says.

Tinkletoes shines the light on what's left of the pizza box's contents. “Save that piece for Ray. He'll eat anything.” He turns and shines the beam of light on his preferred route to High Command, standing up he sets off for the room and Writer Lady one last time. “If I step on you it's your own fault.” Tinkletoes announces as he leaves the room.

There's a knock on the door. Writer Lady opens it to find Tinkletoes holding the flashlight's beam in front of his face.

“Have you seen my flash...light? Thanks.” She says, taking it from his hand.

“You were alone in this room in the dark. I came to the door with the light in my face like some kind of maniac. Weren't you scared?”

“No. You looked the same to me.”

“Oh. So, what's up with the power?” Tinkletoes asks.

“I don't know. Don't you know?” Writer Lady asks.

“Did you pay the bill?” He asks.

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes.

“Of course you did.”

“I didn't do anything in here that would cause the power to go out. What are the rest of you doing?” Writer Lady asks.

“Assassin's Creed Tournament.”

“This is inconvenient for you too then.” Writer Lady says.

“The little one is really kickin' my a...butt. I was making my comeback when this happened.”

“I've been in here. Everyone else is in the living room?” Writer Lady asks.

“Yeah except for Carp he's in the bonus room working with the kittens.” Tinkletoes says.

“And TP?”

“TP's not here is he?” Tinkletoes asks.

“There are two of us unaccounted for that could make the power go out this suddenly. TP and House.” Writer Lady says. “We need to find out where they are.”

“After you.” Tinkletoes says.

“What? The lights are out.”

“What about it?”

“You're the big, strong man you go first.”

“You have the flashlight.” Tinkletoes points out.

Writer Lady hands Tinkletoes the flashlight.

“Like I said, I'm bigger, stronger and have the training I should go first.” Tinkletoes announces.

Writer Lady sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Just because I'm walking in front of you doesn't mean you can pinch my butt either. I know it's impressive but be a lady and keep your hands to yourself.”

“Not a problem.” Writer Lady mutters.

Mural Man's Sweet Booty And Other Household Disasters

 

**Be sure to read this post fully before letting a child read it.  Everyone has their own definition of what appropriate reading for a child is and has a right to rule things out as inappropriate at their own discretion.**

 

Butt Disclaimer: As a writer I have a connection with the characters I create.  When they are hurting I want to help them.  Initially, I was not in support of the subject matter in tonight's blog.  House was adamant.  Mural Man's backside is especially near and dear to her heart.   Although I have no interest in having another incident like the diarrhea saga from earlier this year I cannot ignore the worries of a house in love and her concerns for the safety and health of her beloved.  I agreed grudgingly that we need to get to the bottom of things and see that the issue is nipped in the butt.  Hopefully this part of the story can be finished quickly so that we don't get too far behind. 

 

“It's not that bad.”  Mural Man says.

“I can see bare wall through those scratch marks.   Bare Wall.”  House says.

“Mural Man says he's okay.  He's probably okay.”  Carp says.

“Do you see bare wall Carp?   Because I see bare wall.”  House exclaims.

Stepping down and into the bonus room Carp looks at Mural Man and his loin clothed posterior.  Briefly.  There are three lines running down Mural Man's left cheek.  “It looks like scratch marks.”   Carp says.

“Bare wall.”   House says again.

“There are three cats, two dragons, children, Ray, TP, and Tinkletoes in this house.  Something was going to happen eventually.   He's paper.  Paper gets cut, torn, disintegrates in water, drawn on.”

“I understand that.   I am smarter than you are Carp. In many ways. I take everything that happens to me in stride.”

Carp raises an eyebrow.

House doesn't see the eyebrow (I think she ignored it) and continues talking. “Mural Man is off limits and his booty is sacred.  No one touches it.  No one!”

“No one?”  Mural Man asks teasingly.

“I have been known to...”   House admits blushing.

“Been known to?”  Mural Man asks.

“We were in Faerie and three dimensional.   We had skin and everything.  It's not like I mauled you.”

“It wasn't an accidental brushing of skin either.”  Mural Man says.

“Whatever happened to 'What happens in Faerie stays in Faerie'?”  House asks.

“After two weeks like the ones we had in Faerie can you blame a guy for wanting to brag a little?”  Mural Man asks.

“I am more than most men can handle.”  House says.

Spots and Smudge continue wrestling on the floor.  One kitten being pinned then within seconds their positions reversing.

“Tinkletoes has plans for these two.  They have to be trained, part of that training involves learning discipline.   Strict discipline.  You won't be getting scratched after today Mural Man.”  Carp says.

“Thank you.   It sounds like our problem has been solved.”  Mural Man says.

“What about this?  What about the damage?”  House asks.

“Have you tried glue?”  Carp asks.

“The lines will still be there.  Permanent scars.  Every time I look at him I'll always be reminded of what I lost.”  House says, her voice catching slightly.

“House darling.”  Mural Man says.

“Whose butt is this?  Yours or his?”  Carp asks.

“What?”  House asks.  “I admire it daily.”  She says.

“But, it's attached to him.”  Carp says.  “It may be yours to admire but his butt belongs to him.  Mural Man should be the one to decide how it's repaired.”

“I want House to be happy.”   Mural Man croons.

“Oh Mur...”   House responds breathlessly.

The kittens have stopped wrestling and are looking at the wall, craning their heads trying to figure out where the sounds are coming from.

“Have you tried asking TP if he could re-bond the fibers?”

“I will not have him 'recycled'.”   House says.

“Then House it looks like you're stuck with...”  Carp leans in and studies the scratch marks again,  “bare wall.”

“No.”   House moans.

“Let's just call TP.”  Mural Man suggests.

“TP is already in.”   The faerie calls.   He is levitating above Smudge and Spots' heads.  Fluttering just out of reach as they take turns attempting to pounce on him.  The faerie is wearing a lab coat over his usual garb, a stethoscope hangs around his neck along with a wide array of tools that are stuffed into the lab coat's pockets.  He is wearing thick, round, glasses.  The faerie flies away from the kittens and up, stopping in front of Carp's face.  “Dr. TP is in.   Where does it hurt?  Here's your bill.”   TP asks holding up a bill made out to Carp for a million dollars.

“That's not how it works Dr. TP.”  Carp takes the bill, wads it up, and throws it onto the floor.  The kittens pounce and take off with it.  “I'm not the one who is hurt.  There's your patient.”   Carp says pointing to the wall.

“Where?”   The faerie asks, looking at everything except Mural Man's backside.

“You can't see it?”  House asks.   “It's a good thing he's only paper, he could have bled out by now.”

“Where?”   TP says squinting.

“Mural Man.   The kittens scratched his butt.”  Carp says, pointing again.

“Ah yes...”  TP says.  “I can see them now.”   The faerie floats the short distance to the wall where House and Mural Man are standing, laying, leaning?   The characters are paper just picture it, okay?

“Let's get a closer look.”  TP takes out a light and studies the scratches.  He puts the earpieces in his ears and places the stethoscope on the damaged cheek and listens. “Yes.”  TP pulls a measuring tape out and measures the scratches.  “Ah yes, very good.”  He says.   TP floats away from his patient's posterior and announces.  “It seems that Mural Man has been scratched.  Now he has boo-boos.”

“We told you that all ready.”   House says and mutters a few choice words.

“Can you do something to repair the scratches?”  Carp asks.

TP looks at Carp waiting for more information.

“Don't make me say that.”  Carp says.

No reply.   TP cranes his head as if puzzled.

“Can you fix Mural Man's boo-boos?”

“Can you?”  House asks.  “I don't want him to be scarred or recycled.   He's perfect right now.  He might not be as sweet next time if you recycle him.”

“Yes.  TP fix.   TP will fix both of you.”   TP says.  He begins looking for something in his pockets.   The faerie goes through all of the pockets several times, then on his fourth pass through he finds what he is looking for.   He pulls out a square wrapped in familiar white paper.

“Is that?”  House asks.   “An adhesive bandage?”

“Yes TP's special design.”  TP unwraps the bandage adjusting it to size like a person does when they are changing the size of a window on their computer display.   When the faerie is finished a sparkling pink unicorn is covering the scratches on Mural Man's tushy.   “All fixed.  No more boo-boo.”  TP looks directly at House.  “Now it's your turn.”

Make It Stop

“Dude.  You've got a marshmallow fire truck on your nose.   Now it's stuck to your butt.”  Ray's voice can be heard in the hallway.

Dobby and Tinkletoes enter the living room to find Carp waiting for them.

“Are you sure that you want to keep this plan in place?”  Carp asks Tinkletoes.  “I have been watching the kittens and they are pretty wound up.”

Spots slides past the kitchen's entry with a cellophane wrapped toy in his mouth.  Ray follows close behind.  “Dude.  That's the toy surprise, whoever opens the box gets that.  I opened the box.”

  Spots gains his footing and picks up speed running away from Ray.  Ray runs past the entry, he loses his balance sliding into the refrigerator door.  Spots stops, returning to Ray without the toy.  He sniffs at Ray for a minute.  The kitten looks at Ray, looks at the refrigerator door, looks back at Ray.  The kitten shakes his head and leaves.

  The open box of cereal falls from the counter landing onto the floor.  Smudge follows jumping from the counter top, landing easily on Ray's chest.  Ray groans, the added weight pushing air out of his lungs.

 “They've taken out Ray.”   Carp says looking at Tinkletoes.

“Ray is a low level target.”  Tinkletoes points out.

“They did take him out without much effort or training.”  Dobby adds.

Tinkletoes looks at Dobby then back at the kittens.  They are alternately jumping on and off of Ray's stomach as they race around him stopping periodically to chew on his hair or bat at his nose.

“Make it stop.”  Ray calls out.  “Make it stop.”

“These new recruits show potential.”  Tinkletoes says.   “The next lessons are discipline and taking orders.”

“Taking orders."  Carp repeats laughing a little bit.   “Who's going to do that job?”

  Tinkletoes and Dobby look at each other and then at Carp.

“Me?”  Carp asks.

“You know about discipline Carp, you used to write all that girlie stuff.   Writing girlie stuff takes discipline.”  Tinkletoes says.

“One of the most useful tools for establishing discipline is intimidation.  You're better at that.”  Carp says.

“This is a chance for you to get better at it.”   Tinkletoes counters.

The self-proclaimed mercenary looks at Dobby and whispers,  “The kittens need experience interacting with a higher level target.”  The ginger tabby nods briefly.

 Tinkletoes turns back to Carp,  “You can do this soldier.  Now get in there and teach those kittens discipline.  Start with the basics.”

“Step 1.  Line them up and break them down.”

Tinkletoes nods.  He and Dobby take their leave.

The kittens are wrestling on the kitchen floor.  Rolling, tumbling, clawing, and chewing on each other all over Ray's body.  Chewing on Ray's body.  Ray lays on the floor with his eyes closed and mutters quietly,  “Make it stop, make it stop.”

Carp walks into the kitchen, redirects the kittens to other pursuits, and walks over to Ray.

Ray opens one eye,  “Is it okay?  Is it safe?”  He asks.

Carp nods.

“What did you do?”  Ray asks.

“I threw a ball and got Spots' attention.”

“The other one?”

A crinkly noise is heard coming from the laundry room.

“Is that my toy surprise?”  Ray asks.

“A necessary sacrifice.”  Carp answers.

“Dude...I've been waiting for that one.  It completes a set.”

“Necessary sacrifices Ray.”  Carp repeats.  “Are you done experimenting or would you like me to leave you three alone?”  He asks.

“I am done.   Those kittens are hardcore.  They rock way harder than I do.”

Carp reaches out giving Ray a hand up.

Ray rises, dusting himself off.  He studies his body closely. “Do you see any blood?”   He asks.  “How's my hair?”

Carp looks at Ray taking stock, the same slept in clothes, the same eyes with the same slightly distant expression, his shoulder length hair still the same frayed mass of frizz it always was.  “It looks great.”  He says.

“Good.   I think I've got a date later or something.  It's a relief to know that I won't have to shower.”

“Ray,”  Carp says,  “go ahead and shower.”

Ray stares at Carp with a vacant expression.

“You said it was a date.  You've been playing with cats.  What if she's allergic to cats?”

Ray stares then a light slowly dawns.  “Dude!  You're right.  That is so brilliant.” Ray says.   “I'm gonna take off now.”  He makes his way through the laundry room and into the bonus room where the kittens are wrestling, both yearning to have complete custody of the cereal box prize.   “You guys rock hard.”  The kittens stop playing and watch Ray closely.   “It was fun.   Catch you later man.” Ray says to the kittens before leaving the house.   Smudge watches the door close, seeing that his brother is distracted Spots pounces pinning him to the floor and chewing on an ear.

Carp stands in the bonus room doorway watching Spots and Smudge play.  “You two do have lots of energy and you are relentless with your prey.”  Carp says to himself as he watches Smudge abandon his brother to rip the head off of a toy mouse.   “I can see why Tinkletoes wants to bring you in, but to find a way to control when and how you use it...”

“Yeah.   Good luck with that.”  House says from the other side of the door frame. “Those little monsters are destroying everything.”  She says.

“They're like little kids aren't they?”  Carp asks.  “You can't expect a toddler not to color on the floor or the wall at least once.”

“Coloring on the wall I can deal with.  They have been scratching them.”   House says.

“Scratches can be painted over.”

“Not these scratches.”  House says.  “The little monsters are the devil incarnate.”

“Darling it's okay.   I'm fine.”  Mural Man's voice can be heard coming from the bonus room.

“No you're not.  You were attacked mercilessly and I want justice!”  House exclaims.

Carp steps into the bonus room to get a look at the paper couple.  “What's the trouble?”  He asks.

“You don't see that?”  House groans.

“See what?”

“Mural Man.  They've shredded my baby's sweet booty.”