Out Of The Closet...Finally!

“Let me try something more traditional.” TP says to Monitor Man. He flies over to Writer Lady and flutters in her space.

“Surprise! It's sexy Monitor Man. Come on. Wake up! You've been panting after this guy for years now. Say something.” TP's ears light up and smoke starts billowing from the top of his head. Looking back at Monitor Man he says, “She was just looking at a picture of you this morning and you weren't wearing a shirt. Take something off maybe it will wake her up.”

“Take off my clothes? Do you know how much I hate taking those kinds of pictures? It's one of the things I love about what I'm doing now. I get to keep my clothes on.. Most of the time.” Monitor man answers.

“There aren't any cameras here. Take off your shirt you silly man.”

“No.”

“Loosen a couple of buttons.” TP suggests.

“No, she has to see me as I am and not as that shirtless guy she was drooling over this morning.”

“Shoes?”

“Shoes.” Monitor Man repeats. “I rarely go without shoes. I don't think it will help.”

“Pants?” TP asks.

“Nope, I'm not taking off my pants either.”

TP flutters over to a darkened corner of the closet does a spin and flies back over to Monitor Man as a voluptuous Marilyn Monroe in a tight evening dress. “Come on baby. Take it off. Take it all off” and puckers up.

“NO!” Monitor Man shouts.

“TP what have I told you about making inappropriate requests of people?” Writer Lady asks.

“Not too?” TP says.

“What else?”

TP spins furiously losing the blonde wig, make-up and evening dress. When the faerie stops spinning he is wearing a dated school uniform and a Dunce cap.

“Just because I'm from the land of Faerie doesn't mean I don't have to be nice. Keeping company with humans is different than other faeries. Humans require more manners. Especially strange humans.” TP looks at Monitor Man markedly with the word 'strange' and hangs his head in despair, pouting.

“A closet is no place for a guest. Let's get out of this closet. It's cramped and you're practically standing in the litter box.” Writer Lady says to Monitor Man.

Turning his head, Monitor Man sees the litter box on the floor behind him then at the back of his foot. “That was pretty close wasn't it? About the litter box, there's no smell. I didn't know it was even there.”

“TP enchanted Dobby's tail. If he swishes his tail over the litter the odors get neutralized.” Writer Lady says leading Monitor Man through the bonus room, laundry nook and into the kitchen. A pouting TP flutters into the kitchen behind them. “Can I get you something. Coffee? Pie maybe? You're working now aren't you? Are you allowed to eat pie when filming?”

“Pie?...Pie is always good. I'm not hungry right now. Could I take a rain check?” Monitor man asks.

“Sure.” Writer Lady says blushing a little at the thought of Monitor Man visiting at a future date.

“I have to ask you something.”

TP continues fluttering around them. Hanging on every word.

“Our little friend? He's acting a bit weird. I thought he was okay at first. All this talk about me taking off my clothes and fluttering so close by. Is he? Does he?”

“Have a crush on you?” Writer Lady asks.

Monitor man nods solemnly. “He's supposed to get me home before Monday.”

Writer Lady smiles and a gentle laugh escapes her. “No TP doesn't have a crush on you. If he did you would know.”

“Comes on strong, huh?. Like Kathy Bates in Misery?”

TP flutters away from Monitor Man and behind Writer Lady's shoulder so Monitor Man and can see him. A sledgehammer appears in his hands and the faerie strikes the air, a blood curdling scream sounds in Monitor Man's ears.

“I'm sorry what did you say?”

“When a faerie has a crush on a person they usually end up in a gilded birdcage wearing nothing but a bikini. A loincloth in your case. The cage is locked in a castle tower.”

“With a dragon?”

“No silly man. We freed the dragons eons ago.” TP giggles.

“I heard it was a rebellion.” Writer Lady says.

“Was not.” TP counters.

“That's not what I heard.” Writer Lady sings back. “Besides TP's last crush disappeared from our world and was never heard from again.”

“He was interesting until he became uninteresting.” TP says.

“What happened when he became uninteresting?” Monitor Man asks.

“It was time for him to go.” TP answers. Monitor Man pales considerably.

“Where did he go?” Monitor Man asks.

“You don't want to know.” Writer Lady says. “Besides the Fae don't behave that way anymore. Especially if they want any more cookies and cupcakes.”

“Okay TP leaves...NOW.” The faerie disappears in a wisp of smoke.

“Those must be some baked goods.” Monitor Man observes reaching out to touch the air TP just disappeared from.

“You have no idea.” Writer Lady says winking at Monitor Man who raises an eyebrow.

“I'm sorry I'm not better prepared for your visit. I wasn't expecting company.” Writer Lady says walking through the living room fluffing pillows and generally fussing.

Monitor Man follows her into the living room, walks over to Writer Lady holds her hands still in his and says, “You have a lovely home” looking deep into her eyes. “May I see the rest of it?”

Writer Lady grows quiet. For a moment Monitor Man wonders if she has frozen again. “Of course.”

The tour ends in High Command with a long talk about Dobby, TP, Tinkletoes, Furnatche and the rest. He has many questions about the book and Writer Lady is thrilled to answer them. She has many questions about him and his life. He answers them with every kindness. He asks to see the sexy picture on her computer and teases her a little for drooling over the man he was years ago.

“I hope you don't get mad. It doesn't seem like you to me at all. But overall it is a good picture. Should I ignore a good picture just because there is all that naked torso in the way?” Writer Lady asks.

“No I guess not. Would you mind if replaced that picture?” Monitor Man asks.

“On one condition, you have to be at your most comfortable when you take the picture.”

“You're on.” He answered.

Before he leaves they take a picture together. The visit ends with smiles all around. Writer Lady stands at the back door with Dobby. They watch TP and Monitor Man get into the invisible helicopter (TP enlarged the yard a bit and put down a helicopter pad, temporarily) and head West.

“Finally. I'm so glad that ya-hoo is gone.” Dobby says.

“I don't know, I think he might be back some day. If nothing else we made a new friend. It's always nice to make new friends.” Writer Lady says, watching the helicopter lift into the air as Monitor Man looks at the new picture on his cell phone and the helicopter flies away.

And...She's Not Moving.

“What is he still doing here? Dobby asks. “You were supposed to be putting him back.” Dobby sniffs at Writer Lady. She makes no movement to show the ginger cat attention. “I knew this was going to happen. You broke her.” Dobby says glaring at Monitor Man. “Who's going to feed me?”

“Relax. I didn't break her. She just isn't moving...a whole lot.” Monitor Man answers looking into Writer Lady's eyes. “Not so much as a blink. That's new.”

“So Monitor Man, you have seen this before.” TP asks holding on to the edges of his lapels.

“Yes I have. I have a solution too. When people freeze like this after they see me, what I usually do is say 'hello' to someone else and they snap out of it. Dobby if you will?”

“Will what?” Dobby asks.

“Be an example for you mother.” Monitor Man answers. “Say 'hello' to me and give me a hug. Your mother will relax. She and I can get to know each other.”

“I don't even like you. Get someone else.” Dobby snaps.

“Don't worry, I can handle this.” TP says to Monitor Man. TP flies over to hover near Dobby's shoulder. “Dobby, let's look at the evidence. Writer Lady is your mother. It's just you and her. If you don't help wake her up no one will feed you again—ever.”

“You would feed me.” Dobby says to TP.

“You're okay for a cat. But you're really spoiled and high maintenance. If something happened to Writer Lady, my ass is out of here.” TP explains.

“What about?” Dobby asks.

“Tinkletoes? He went to a cupcake expo again this weekend. He is talking about taking jobs near the new cupcake district they are building in Montana. Or was it North Dakota?”

“I know. Furnatche will help me. We're practically bros.”

“If Writer Lady stays like this forever, the characters just become words on a page. They can't help you.”

Dobby looks at TP, then at Writer Lady. The cat reaches up and gently touches Writer Lady on the leg, “Mom?” Dobby's eyes tear up.

“Of course you do have another option.” TP says. “You could live with...Grandma.”

“NOOOOOOOOO!” Dobby howls with despair.

“Then you must help Monitor Man.” TP says nodding.

Dobby nods and glares at TP. Glares at Monitor Man.

“Okay. Let me set the scene for you.” Monitor Man says kneeling down to talk to Dobby. Monitor Man looks closely at Writer Lady then looks at where he and Dobby are. “Let's scoot in a little closer to your mom.” Monitor Man puts his hands on either side of Dobby's shoulders to guide the cat over to a new spot.

“You're touching me.” Dobby growls. “Mom doesn't even touch me much.”

Monitor Man pales for a moment. “Sorry. I'm just trying to line us up. That way she will see us clearly when her eyes start to focus again.”

“You really should be more careful when you talk to people.” Dobby says.

“You're kidding me right? I didn't do this on purpose.”

“You've done it before.” Dobby says accusingly.

“A few times.” Monitor Man says looking at Writer Lady in her frozen state. “They don't warn you about this in Hollywood. The paparazzi yes. The women tearing at your clothes yes. Not this. Never this.”

“Actors have their problems too.” Dobby says. “I guess.”

“Ready?” Monitor Man asks.

“Ready.” Dobby says.

“I have been ready forever. I have a date tonight so let's finish this.” TP says.

“Faeries date?” Monitor Man asks.

“I thought all faeries were male.” Dobby says.

“We are. But we sure do love to play with those pixies. Feisty little things they are.” TP says. (he giggles)

Dobby and Monitor Man look at each other. They don't want to know what TP has been doing with those pixies.

“So Dobby. Go back a little bit. Walk up to me. Look at me adoringly. We'll go from there.” Monitor Man instructs.

“Of all the...stupid...ridiculous...he is so annoying.” Dobby mutters walking over to his starting spot. “I'm not touching you...you big hairless weirdo.”

Dobby walks over to Monitor Man. Looks up and glares.

“That's looking at me adoringly?” Monitor Man asks looking at TP.

“He's a cat. You're lucky to get this much.” TP answers.

“Well hello.” Monitor Man says with his super friendly smile. “How are you today?”

Dobby mutters.

“It's nice to meet you Dobby.” Monitor Man says with an even larger warmer smile.

Dobby rolls his eyes. Big.

“It's so nice to meet you too. You are the greatest, most wonderful yummiest actor ever. I just want to eat you up.” TP's voice comes out of Dobby's mouth.

“Thank you. That's so nice of you to say. Would you like an autograph?” Monitor Man says.

“Yes. Please on one of my incredibly voluptuous breasts.” TP says.

Dobby's eyes enlarge. “No way! Not happening.” Dobby turns to go.

“What's wrong?” TP asks.

“I have eight nipples!” Dobby looks at Monitor Man, “You can't see any of them.”

“Dobby this is just role playing so Writer Lady will wake up. I was just trying to make it sound realistic. Saying things a woman might say. Things Writer Lady would say.” TP explains.

“I wouldn't say that. Mom wouldn't either. No one is touching any boobs or nipples anywhere in this closet. EVER.”  Turning, Dobby leaves the closet.

“This is never going to work.” TP says. Monitor Man quietly nods in agreement.

Stuck In The Closet

 

Dobby turns around and is nose to shin with Monitor Man. “TP I'm going to see Mom. I'll keep her out of this part of the house.” Dobby looks up at Monitor Man. “Stay Here. No checking Mom out, you're not staying.”

Monitor Man waits until Dobby exits the utility closet and slides open the closet door enough to get a look at Writer Lady. He watches her cross to Dobby's bowls and feed him.

“There you are kitty. I was worried about you. How's my best guy?” Writer Lady starts to reach down and pet Dobby.

His tail twitches briefly, “Come on Mom. I'm eating.”

“I'm sorry. You're so handsome I forget the rules sometimes.” Writer Lady apologizes.

“You forget every day, Mom. You might be getting old timers.” Dobby says between bites.

“Sweetie you mean Alzheimer's.”

Monitor Man watches and listens. “She talks to the cat like it's a person. He answers back. They understand each other. She is pretty though. I don't know if I can get past the talking to the cat thing.”

TP spins around, changing into his Clarence Darrow costume complete with comb over. The faerie clears his throat, “May I remind you sir, that you have also been conversing with the cat. You also spent four hours in an invisible helicopter with a faerie, a magical creature that isn't supposed to exist? You also talked the whole time.”

“I was nervous riding in an invisible helicopter. I was making conversation, keeping my mind off of what was happening around me.” Monitor Man answers.

“You invited me to your place for your annual New Year's Eve blow out and thanked me profusely for befriending you. You said quote, 'You, TP are the coolest, most interesting friend I have. I love you man.'”

“I say 'I love you' like other people say 'Hello'. It meant nothing.”

“You also asked me if I wanted to be 'Bros'. When I questioned the meaning of bros you asked me if I was interested in starting a(TP coughs) bromance. I thought you liked women?”

“I do. I love women. You still don't get what I mean by bromance.” Monitor Man answers.

“Be aware, sir that your hands are not clean in this. If our dear sweet Writer Lady is crazy then so are you. At least she doesn't get kinky.” TP says.

“I wasn't getting kinky with you.”

“How do I know you weren't getting kinky with me?” TP asks.

“I was too busy checking out her butt.” Monitor Man answers gesturing towards the room Writer Lady is in.

“So...(TP coughs) you admit that you intend to get kinky with our dear, sweet Writer Lady.”

Monitor Man pales, TP has backed him into a corner. Using the skills he developed after years in the public eye he quietly answers, “No Comment.” The closet grows quiet. Neither TP nor Monitor Man know what to say next. Monitor Man crosses the room to stand close to TP, and makes an appeal, “If anyone had ever told me someday I would meet a real magical creature...”

“Being...magical being.” TP corrects.

“magical being. I would have said 'No way' faeries,they aren't real. Then I met you. You brought me here. I am here in the middle of...”

“Illinois”

“Right Illinoise.”

“It's Illinoi.  The "s" is silent."  TP says correcting Monitor Man.

“Okay, in Illinoi. I am away from everything I know. The city, the crowds, the press. It's very nice. But I'm also hiding in a utility closet. There is a sweet, lovely woman just outside this door. I can't even talk to her. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a quiet conversation with a nice woman in a private setting? TP. You found me, befriended me and brought me all the way out here to meet her. Please let me meet her.”

“Dobby says “No”. She can't keep you.”

“Of course she can't keep me. I have a life, far away from here. Besides kept men are really boring. I know a few. Models mostly.”

“So what will happen if I introduce you to her?”

“I would say “hello” and talk to her. That's it.”

“How do I know you won't come on to her too?”

“I told you, I wasn't coming on to you!”

“But you said you loved me!” TP wails.

“TP what did I tell you about watching television? Keep the volume down.” Writer Lady says entering the utility closet, smiling. “I don't know what you're doing in this utility closet watching TV anyway.” 

Writer Lady sees him.

“Hi.” Monitor Man says.

Writer Lady stands there. Frozen.

Monitor Man

Dobby runs into High Command, (the room with the computer in it) “Mom Mo-om!”

“Yes kitty.”

“What are you doing?” Dobby asks.

Writer Lady switches windows. “Nothing. Just starting this week's post.”

Dobby jumps on the desk and peers at the monitor, “Really? What are you writing about?”

“Nothing.” Writer Lady says, covering the screen with her hand.

“Let me see, Mom.”

“No.”

“Come on. Move your hand!” Dobby says nipping her hand.

“Ouch!” Writer Lady yells, moving her hand. “That hurt!”

“Don't hide things and you won't get bit.” Dobby says.

Writer Lady looks at her war wound. “I'm a grown woman. I can do what I want. Did you have to draw blood?”

Dobby looks at Writer Lady's hand. “It's nothing. A mosquito wouldn't want such a tiny meal.”

“It hurts.”

“You're only saying that because you didn't want me to see what you were looking at. What is it shoes? Dresses?” Dobby says looking at the monitor. The small window Writer Lady had pulled up was covering a picture that filled the screen behind it. “Oh. It's just that guy you like without a shirt on.” Dobby takes a closer look. “Mom I hate to tell you this but your eyesight is going. These pictures are of three different men.”

“No kitty my eyes are fine.” Writer Lady says, looking up at the monitor.

Dobby looks at Writer Lady, looks back at the screen, looks back at Writer Lady. “Mom...are you okay?”

“I'm just fine kitty.”

“Mom?” Dobby asks, Writer Lady continues to gaze at the monitor adoringly.

“What do you think kitty? Which one?”

“Which one, what?” Dobby asks.

“Which one would you pick? TP says he can get me one of them. I get to keep him too.”

“Mom. I really don't think this is a good idea.” Dobby says.

“What do you mean it's not a good idea?” Writer Lady says, leaning in close, her eyes are a strange reddish purple color her voice has deepened considerably.

Dobby's eyes widen and the ginger tabby takes a few steps back. “Nothing Mom. I can't wait to see how TP does this.”

Dobby exits High Command quickly and quietly leaving Writer Lady gazing at her dreamy future. He searches the house looking for TP.

“TP. TP. TP!” Dobby calls. On his second pass by the utility closet, Dobby hears something.

“Shhhh! We are not here.” TP whispers.

“I hate to break it to you little guy but we are.” A distinctly deep voice says.

“No one can know.” TP says. “Not yet. It's a surprise.”

“You told me this wasn't going to take long. If you don't let me out of the closet soon I'm stealing that invisible copter of yours. Because guys like me don't hang out in closets.”

“TP?” Dobby calls walking into the utility closet. The closet is dark and TP refuses to give up his location until he is sandwiched between the floor and one of Dobby's paws.

A snap is heard and the closet is illuminated with light. “Over here.” TP says in a muffled voice.

Dobby looks at his right front paw. “There you are.”

“Shhhhh! Talk softly. We're hiding.” The man on Writer Lady's monitor says.

Dobby looks at monitor man. “Do you know who you are hiding from?”

Monitor man looks up, thinks for a minute. “No, we didn't get that far.”

“You're hiding from me.” Dobby says.

“Oooops.”

Dobby looks back down at TP. “Take him home. He doesn't belong here. She can't keep him.”

“Of course she can't keep me.” Monitor man comments. “This was a just a special appearance. I was going to do a favor for my new friend here.”

The closet gets very quiet.

“You didn't tell him what you told Mom did you?” Dobby asks TP.

“Mom? I came all this way to see a cat?” Monitor man asks.

“No. Mom is a person like you.” Dobby answers.

“How can a human be a cat's mother?” Monitor man asks.

“Here is another one that can't understand adoption. Where do these guys come from?” Dobby asks TP.

“Silly human.” TP giggles.

“Stop.” Dobby says pushing on the faerie like a squeaky toy. “This isn't funny.”

“You have to put him back.”

“But I promised.” TP says. “Magical creatures have to keep their promises.”

“What happens if he doesn't want to cooperate?” Dobby asks.

“Yeah...what if I don't cooperate?” Monitor man says.

“Then I didn't break my promise.” TP answers.

“Okay, let's do that.” Dobby says.

“Dobby kitty, come here. It's time to eat.” Writer Lady calls from the kitchen.

“It's Mom! Get him out of here!” Dobby orders, walking over to the door on the opposite wall, opening it a bit and peeping through the slit to see how close Writer Lady is.

“That's her?” Monitor man asks, he creeps up behind Dobby to take a peek.

Tinkletoes' Offering

“Yeah, yeah, yeah we all love the little,” Tinkletoes looks down at Furnatche as the dragon wags excitedly, “um, guy. Now it's my turn. You are my best friend's mom and you paid for my...um anyway, you're important to me and stuff. Here you go.” Tinkletoes thrusts a long narrow box at Writer Lady.

“Thank you...” Writer Lady says opening the box. She looks at the contents, looks up at Tinkletoes and looks down at the gift again.

“It's a light saber. You were so nice to bring me the one I special ordered home with you from Comicon. It was pristine. Not so much as a scratch on it. I still don't know how you managed that one.”

“Plenty of room. No weed whacker.” TP giggles.

“Since it was obvious you knew how to take care of something so precious, I thought you should have one of your own. So here it is. I designed it myself.” Tinkletoes says, taking the light saber out of the box and handing it to Writer Lady. Peter relieved her of the empty box.

“It's pink.” Writer Lady says.

“Yeah. Titty pink.” Tinkletoes confirms. “You know because you're a girl and well girls have boobs.

“Never underestimate the power of the booobies.” TP says fluttering behind Tinkletoes' head. Cones have sprung from TP's chest and the nipple rings have returned.

“How does it feel in your hand? Is the base of it too heavy for you?” Tinkletoes asks.

“There is a kitten on the front of it.” Writer Lady points out.

“Yeah. That's Hello Kitty.” Tinkletoes says.

“Does Hello Kitty belong on a weapon?” Writer Lady asks.

“When you're a girl it does.” Tinkletoes answers, reaching over Writer Lady's hands he turns the light saber on. “It has sound effects.” The unmistakable whooshing sound of a light saber being powered up is heard. “It also plays this. A theme song if you want to make a big entrance.” Tinkletoes pushes another button and “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” by Pat Benatar starts playing.

Dobby looks up at Tinkletoes shaking his head.

“Girls like to make an entrance. Well, that's what I heard.” Tinkletoes says in defense of his logic.

“This is wonderful gift, thank you Tinkletoes. I'll think of you every time I look at it.”

“In the back of the closet.” Dobby snickers.

“Oh wait...” Tinkletoes says pulling out a display rack. It's neon pink. “I got this for you too. It wouldn't fit in the box.”

“Well isn't that something.”

“It's a rack for you to put the saber on.” Tinkletoes says. “I'll put it right here on the wall for you. I put the hardware up already and everything. All we have to do put the rack on the wall. Sit the light saber right there on the rack.” Tinkletoes gets everything set up. “There it is Writer's Lady saber in it's new home. Right in front of you all day everyday.”

Tinkletoes bends over, plugs something in and flips a switch on the rack on his way up. The neon pink rack starts to glow.

“Amazing.” Writer Lady says looking at Dobby with pleading eyes.

“Don't forget that other thing, man.” Dobby reminds Tinkletoes.

“Oh Yeah,” he answers reaching into his pocket he pulls out a silver oval placard. “There's a story about this final gift. We agreed these kids' Aunt should tell you about it.”

Aunt Purdy walks over from the far side of the room.

“A few weeks ago when we were planning this surprise for you, I kept calling this room your office. Dobby told me you hate to call this room your office. Because offices are synonymous with work and you don't work much in this room, mostly you have fun. So we decided to name your room for you. There were several ideas:”

Mom's Work Room (Dobby says), The Playroom (Dylan says), The Study (Paige says), The Imagination Station (Peter says), Nirvana (Aunt Purdy) and The West Wing (Tinkletoes says) I had lots but I got outvoted every time, except one.

“Mr. Tinkletoes would you do the honor of showing Writer Lady the name of the room?” Aunt Purdy says.

Tinkletoes turns over the beautifully etched placard that reads. HIGH COMMAND.

Faeries Do It With SPARKLE.

“Hi kids! It's time to have some fun!” TP is now wearing a pink and lavender matching motorcycle pants and vest. The vest is open and he has piercings. His heavy boots match. The heels light up and theme music (“I'm Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred) radiates from them with each step TP takes.

“Maybe I should take the kids...” Aunt Purdy says.

“Oh no. Dear lady don't go now. This is all about fashion. You must stay.”

“What Aunt Purdy means to say is...” Writer Lady tries to explain.

“Hey, TP” Tinkletoes calls, “Lose the nipple rings, close the vest and turn off the damn music coming out of your boots. It's distracting.”

“Must I? This is an outfit that just screams theme song. Don't you think?” TP asks Writer Lady.

“Yes, it does, but could you save it for another time?”

“Ooo-kay.” TP answers with disappointment. “No dancing either?”

“No music. What's the point in dancing?” Tinkletoes asks.

“I'll just show you the gift.” TP flutters up to Writer's Lady's face and says “See?”

“Oh yes.” Writer Lady says not knowing what she is supposed to be looking at. “That is a lovely arm   TP.    I think you should keep your arm though. You might need it.”

“It isn't showing yet. Silly human.” TP giggles. Waving his left hand over his right bicep a tattoo appears.

Writer Lady reads the simple stylized writing. “Faeries Do It With SPARKLE.”

“He got a tattoo. That's the gift. It's not even her name. I told you my gift was better.” Tinkletoes whispers to Dobby, “You only need all this flash if you know your gift sucks.”

“I didn't get a tattoo. I'm giving Writer Lady a tattoo. A Faerie tattoo.” TP says fluttering back down to rest on the Control button.

“Oh, TP that's so nice of you but I don't want a tattoo. Tattoos hurt I don't like pain. I have trouble making decisions too. I am a tattoo artist's worst nightmare.”

“That's why I am giving you a faerie tattoo. Faerie Tattoos are very special. First it won't hurt to get the tattoo. You won't feel anything my dear lady.”

“He's right. Once you've had that magic 12^th drink. You won't feel anything.” Tinkletoes chimed in.

“And you can move the tattoo. Put it where you like. Move it at will. Change the size, shape of the tattoo. Change the image.  You can also make it invisible.”

“A tattoo like that will look great no matter what.” Dobby says.

“Every woman's dream.” Aunt Purdy points out.

“To do this we must first decide on what you want the initial tattoo to look like. It is like the “default” setting on this computer thing you use.”

Writer Lady pales not knowing what to say.

“How about 'Cupcake Artist'?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Dobby Forever.” Dobby says.

“Cookies are love.” Aunt Purdy says.

Writer Lady feels a light tap on her arm. Peter, Paige and Dylan are all standing by the arm of the Big Butt Writer's Chair. “What about a picture of Furnatche?” Dylan asks.

“That's a thought.” Writer Lady says.

“Mom, you should do that. You would be the woman with the dragon tattoo.”  Dobby points out.

“She kicks ass!” Dylan announces proudly.

“Dy-lan!” Aunt Purdy says.

Paige covers Dylan's mouth. “We have no idea where he gets these things.” Paige says as she and Peter look at Aunt Purdy radiating innocence.

“After this birthday party is over we are going to have a long talk about appropriate and inappropriate language. So be ready.” Aunt Purdy tells her charges.

“O-Kay.” The children answer and lower their heads in shame for a few seconds.

“TP could I have a double sided tattoo?”

“Of course.”

“Come here then.” TP flutters up to Writer Lady. She whispers in TP's ear her idea.

“Wonderful. Wonderful idea my dear Writer Lady.”

Writer Lady is wearing a sleeveless shirt. TP flies over to her right arm and places the tattoo on her bicep (or where her bicep would be if she exercised more).

“Done!” TP announces proudly.

Writer Lady looks down at her arm. “That is very nice. It didn't hurt at all either.”

Tinkletoes moans in disgust, so hoping she would feel pain, much like the pain he was still in as a result of the assault earlier in the evening.

“Okay Mom. Let's see.” Dobby says.

“The initial tattoo is double sided. One side are my initials, literally. See?”

                                 WL

“The other side is a picture of Furnatche.” Writer Lady explains.

“That way your dragon can be with you all the time. Good idea Mom.” Dobby says.

Looking at everyone in the room, Writer Lady says, “I like to think of him as our dragon.” 

Snapping his fingers, TP gives everyone in the room a flute of milk.  

  "A toast!  To our dragon!" Writer Lady says raising her glass.

 "To Furnatche!" 

 

 

Happy Birthday Writer Lady!

TP giggles for a moment under his breath. The faerie looks down, looking back up timidly he raises his arms and in a slight voice he whispers, “Surprise?”

Writer Lady looks up at the room around her. “For Me?” Her eyes start to tear up. “You redecorated the computer room for me?” She asks looking down at the faerie. TP nods enthusiastically.

Rubbing against Writer Lady's legs, Dobby says, “We all helped Mom.”

“Of course you did.” Writer Lady says between sniffles. She makes her way across the room hugging everyone including an uncooperative Dobby.

“Mom, stop. You're choking me.”

“Sorry kitty.”

“I never thought for a moment when other writers talked about the characters they wrote about coming to life that they actually would come to life.” Mom gazes adoringly at Aunt Purdy, Peter, Paige, Dylan and Furnatche (a dragon-- no less). But to have you here with me. Sharing my home and my life. It's just stupendously incredibly wonderful. Thank you so much.”

“It's hard to believe she's a writer isn't it with a combination of words like that? Stupendously incredibly wonderful. That's why she hasn't been published. That right there.” Dobby mutters to Tinkletoes.

Tinkletoes is hunched over, still periodically gasping. His breathing becomes more labored as he makes an attempt to stand up...

The walls are painted a neutral color. Neither gray, nor white. Blue nor beige. The perfect blank canvas.

“What is this color called?” Writer Lady asks. “I love it.”

“Whateveruneed.” Peter, Paige and Dylan answer in unison.

“What?” Writer Lady asks, looking for confirmation of what she just heard.

“No one could agree on what the best color for the walls would be. We had a mess.” Aunt Purdy explains. “TP brought a super blending stick over from Faerie. He told the stick what type of color we needed, we put all the paint together in one big bucket, TP stirred for five full circles. This is the color the stick gave us.”

Paige picked up the story from there. “After that mess we decided we would each tackle a different part of the room. Aunt Purdy chose the lighting, Peter chose the desk, I organized the storage, Dylan and Furnatche picked out the chair. TP said his gift was a surprise so did Tinkletoes. Dobby moved your magical Door of Opportunity from the other house in here to this room and got you out of the house so we could work on the room. Aunt Purdy insisted we leave any wall art and window treatments to you because that was something personal a lady should do for herself.”

“It's lovely.” Writer Lady said, gazing at everything in awe. “Just lovely.” Writer Lady ran her fingers along the wooden writing table with its simple yet elegant lines. Writer Lady felt a strong tug on the left leg of her shorts.

“Try out the chair.” Dylan says. Dylan and Furnatche both look up her eagerly.

“That chair is too beautiful! It can't be for me.” Writer Lady says.

“It sure is.” Dylan answers. Furnatche pants in agreement.

Walking over to the chair Writer Lady sits down in the well padded Captain's chair with an extra wide seat. “It's very comfortable.”

Dobby jumps up on the chair next to Mom. “An extra wide seat. I can sit with you this way.”

“No Dobby. It's for when she gets a wide load in the back later.” Dylan says.

Everyone looks at Dylan in surprise.

“TP told me Tinkletoes said to get the big butt chair for when Writer Lady gets a wide load.” The three year old boy's face grows pale realizing he has said something wrong.

Writer Lady looks at Dylan, “I hope that never happens. Now I have the right chair if it does. Thank you Dylan and Furnatche.”

Dylan relaxes. “You haven't seen the best part.” Running up behind the chair, Dylan leans forward and whispers in her ear. “It spins.”

After Writer Lady, Dylan, Furnatche, Peter and Paige all tested out the new chair. TP appeared on the writing table and found a comfortable spot on the Control key of the wireless keyboard. Tinkletoes finally managing to stand upright, leans with his back against a mostly dry wall behind Writer Lady's chair. Dobby sits next to Tinkletoes to watch the rest of the festivities.

“I don't know what else to say TP. I am so very sorry I hit you earlier. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course, my dear Writer Lady, it's not like I am permanently damaged.” TP gazes markedly below Tinkletoes' waist.

Tinkletoes looks down at Dobby, “You know he's only doing this because my gift is way better than his.”

“I am the one who is sorry.” TP says looking down at his feet.

“Why?” Writer Lady asks.

“My gift. I did not do anything in the room like the others did.”

“That's okay.”

“I have brought you something very special from my world. I hope you like it.”

“I'm sure I will.”

“Would you close your eyes for three seconds then open them?” TP asks.

“Sure but what happens in three seconds?”

TP says, “I'm going to change out of this clown suit.”

“Okay.” Writer Lady covers her eyes. “One...two...”

“This is so stupid. I can't believe she's playing along.” Tinkletoes grumbles.

“THREE.”

Writer Lady opens her eyes, Aunt Purdy works furiously to cover the children's eyes.

Surprise!

“Mom, what are you doing?” Dobby asks.

“Checking my coffee.” Writer Lady looks up at the cat standing on the table with the computer. “For stray grounds.”

“You're drinking that coffee? I thought it was full of grounds.”

“I poured it through another filter, very carefully.”

Dobby sniffs at the cup. “It doesn't smell very good.”

“I think all of the grounds got caught in the filter when I poured it. Besides,” Writer Lady takes a sip, “I've had worse. It's not like it's molded or anything.”

“I think in 2014 we should work on raising your standards a little bit Mom.”

“Why? It's not like I've gotten sick or anything.”

“Mom people die from food poisoning. Don't forget. I'm really important. I don't like anyone else enough to let them feed me.” Dobby says.

“You're right kitty. I shouldn't be so selfish. Pie?” Writer Lady asks.

Dobby sniffs at the plate. “What kind?”

“Lemon Meringue.”

“Mom, that lemon pie is greenish purple. It's growing tentacles.”

“Maybe we shouldn't eat this then. I'll put it in the trash.” Writer Lady takes the pie into the kitchen to throw it away.

“Mom? Put some bug spray on it too. Just in case.” Dobby muttering. “I better not find that thing crawling around the house later tonight.”

“Psst...”

Dobby ignores the sound and heads over to the blanket chest for a nap.

“PSSSST! Dobby!”

Looking up, Dobby sees that it is Tinkletoes standing hidden in the darkened hallway. TP is fluttering back and forth alternating hovering over Tinkletoes' right shoulder and then his left. Tinkletoes gestures for Dobby to come into the hall. Taking one last look at Writer Lady who is looking at kitten pictures on FB instead of writing, Dobby silently jumps off the blanket chest and heads into the hallway.

“What's she doing in there?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Pretending to write.” Dobby answers.

“You have to make her stop. We can't surprise her like this. We need that room.”

“I know. I was waiting for you to be ready. If I sent her away too soon Mom might come back early.”

Tinkletoes looks at TP. TP looks into the living room over Tinkletoes' shoulder. Furnatche, Aunt Purdy, Peter, Paige and Dylan all look back at TP expectantly. TP looks back at Tinkletoes and nods. Tinkletoes turns back to Dobby. “We're ready. Now get her out of here.”

“Okay.” Dobby turns around, does a full body stretch, touches up the fur on the top of his head then heads back into the computer room.

“Mom. Did you get Grandma's message?”

Not turning away from the kitten pictures, “No what message?”

“Grandpa fell down, he's drooling and can't eat his cake. She needs you to come over and eat it for him.”

Writer Lady turns to face Dobby. “Whaaa?”

“I'm not kidding Mom. Call and check.”

Writer Lady picks up her phone to call. “Wait,” she says, “there's a text.” Your father has fallen he is drooling so much he can't eat cake. Come eat cake. Or whatever Dobby said. “That's weird. I better go check on her and Dad. I never should have let her and TP start texting each other. I knew that was going to bite me in the butt sooner or later. I would have preferred later. Much later.”

Writer Lady leaves. Mission accomplished.

Several Hours Later...

“It is so late. I don't know how I'm ever going to get this week's post written.” Writer Lady says hurrying through the house, turning on lights, closing blinds and generally fussing.

“Grandpa is fine. I have no idea what she was talking about. She has no idea what that text was about. Do you know she doesn't even remember sending it?”

Writer Lady looks at Dobby, starting to ask a question when she sees the computer room light is on. “Did I leave a light on kitty? I don't remember doing that.” Mom heads for the room, pauses, grabs the Big Red Flashlight and brandishes it like the weapon few people realize it can be. She approaches the computer room's door. Reaching out, she turns the knob and gives it a push.

“SURPRISE!” Everyone yells. Tinkletoes jumps out from behind the door with TP riding on his nose. The faerie is wearing a clown suit.

In a matter of seconds Tinkletoes had been hit across the nose, smacked on the forehead and taken a hard hit to the groin. The mercenary lands on his knees pale and groaning in pain.

“Oh no, I did it again.” Writer Lady leans down and asks Tinkletoes, “Are you hurt?”

Tinkletoes groans.

“I'm so sorry.”

More groaning.

“Someone please get some ice.” Writer Lady says. A bright red wheelbarrow appears full of ice packs. The wheelbarrow lifts up and empties itself right in front of Tinkletoes. Tinkletoes reaches for the ice packs, positions most of them between his legs and Tinkletoes squats down into the ice. As his color returns he hands ice packs to Peter and Aunt Purdy who ice his forehead and nose for him.

“Oh no! TP! I've hurt TP.” Writer Lady yells in despair.

Tinkletoes looks up at Writer Lady, glares at her for a minute and rolls his eyes.

“Don't worry Writer Lady. I caught him before he hit the wall.” Paige approaches carrying the faerie in her palm.  TP's breathing is labored, his cone shaped clown hat is dangling from one ear.  The faerie is muttering strange words in between breaths but seems no worse for the wear.

“Oh you poor little thing. I'm so sorry.”

Tinkletoes rolls his eyes again.

“Do you need anything TP?”

TP looks down at Tinkletoes. Tinkletoes looks at TP and growls.

TP grins widely at Tinkletoes...

Guess What?

“OW!” Mom yells.

“You can relax Mom the feline mind meld is over.” Dobby says.

“Why didn't you tell me how much it was going to hurt?”

“If you had relaxed like I told you it wouldn't have hurt?” Dobby responds.

“So if your body is relaxed, you don't hurt nearly as much when a Brahma bull comes charging through your cerebral cortex?”

“I don't recall it happening that way.” Dobby says.

“And John Wilkes Booth thought Lincoln had challenged him to a dual. I'm lucky I can talk.” Mom lifts her hands to touch her ears. “My ears feel funny. Tingly.” She feels something odd. “What the hell did you do to my ears?”

“A feline mind meld can only take place if you ears are pointy too Mom. (See The Quest For Dobby's Destiny Part 1) They should go back to the right shape soon.”

“I have pointy ears? Oh no! Are they bigger too?”

“No bigger than mine.” Dobby answers.

“Oh no! Not that! I wasn't that pretty to begin with.” Mom jumps up kinda slowly and hobbles to the mirror. Looking down. “I'm wet! Why are my clothes wet? How long did this take?”

Dobby takes his time answering. “About three days. Feline mind melds are in real time. You were unconscious, your body's systems kept functioning normally.”

“You let me wet myself?!” Mom exclaims, returning to the den.

“Your body stopped after it expelled the water you had taken in. So only for the first 18 hours or so.”

“How could you let me sit in my own urine like that?”

“I'm a cat! I don't have thumbs Mom. By the way, it has been three days, it would be so nice if you brushed your teeth right now.”

“No one stopped by?” Mom asks facing Dobby.

Dobby gags a little, turning his head away. “No. Tinkletoes had lots to do after spending all of that time with me while you were gone.”

Mom glares and heads to the bathroom for a toothbrush. Brushing her teeth, muttering.

“What Mom?”

“Okay fine,” between brushing intervals. “Couldn't you have stopped for bathroom breaks, teeth brushing.” Mom sniffs at herself and makes a face. “Showers?”

“I would have under normal circumstances...” Dobby answers.

Mom opens the shower door and turns on the water. She starts undressing. “I'm never going to get these clothes clean enough. I'll always remember. What was so abnormal about this mind meld?” Mom asks then climbs into her shower.

“Well, Mom...um...you're kind of...dense. And um.”

“And? There's an 'and'?”

“You have a really thick skull too.”

“A thick skull is a good thing, especially in an accident.” Mom says cheerfully.

“You never should have done that kitty. Writer Lady did not return with all of her marbles in her mental pouch.” TP whispers in Dobby's ear.

The feline slaps at the faerie and it disappears in a puff of smoke.

“A thick skull is a little tougher to work with. Once I got in your mind I had to stay until the show was over. Sorry Mom.”

Mom turns off the water and gets out of the shower. “I don't like it when you do those things. You were inside my mind.” Mom says as she dries off. “What if you jiggled something loose and didn't put it back?” Mom comes out from under the towel to look in the mirror. “My ears are almost back to normal already. Hot Dog!” She put her head under the towel and dries her hair. “My hair isn't going to fall out or something is it?”

“No it shouldn't.”

Mom's muffled voice says, “Well that's a relief.” Mom grabs her ultra comfortable bath robe, flipping it upside down she puts her legs through the sleeves of the robe. “I feel pretty normal. No harm no foul. It's all good.” Closing the robe, she ties the belt. The fabric falls away from her body. Mom looks down at Dobby. “Boy, three days without eating sure takes off the weight. I wonder what I want to eat first.” Mom heads out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. “This robe sure is hard to walk in. Did you play a trick on me Dobby! Kitty?”

A loud thump is heard in the kitchen.

The Quest For Dobby's Destiny Part XIII.2

The queen nods to her Master of Ceremonies as she leaves the stage. He plays a favorite song the crowd loves dancing to. It's a good way to keep the attention away from the fact that the queen is missing and Writer Lady is on the main stage, dancing...badly. Writer Lady tries to pretend no one is looking until Warrior With Intense Blue Eyes runs up to the stage holding his phone up.

“Smile.” He teases.

Writer Lady grimaces and gives him the bird.

“Nice. This is going all over the Internet.” Warrior With Intense Blue Eyes walks away laughing.

“Relax. You're doing fine. No one is looking at you.”

Writer Lady turns around to see find the Master of Ceremonies dancing next to her. “Thanks.” Writer Lady continues dancing, attempts to pull out some fancy moves, nearly falls off the stage, goes back to the simple stuff.

The song ends and the Queen returns, “The Gem of the Con can see you now.”

“That was fast.”

“I told her what she wanted to hear, Tinkletoes is not in attendance.”

“She was happy?” Writer Lady asks.

“Positively glowing.”

After receiving directions to the Gem's private quarters, Writer Lady thanks the Queen for her time, thanks the Master of Ceremonies for the dance and heads off the stage and into a dressing room door. She took a deep breath holding back her amazement. The room was simply stunning. The Gem's magic made the room much larger than mortal parameters. A fireplace stood opposite to Writer Lady and the door she entered through. There was a beautiful wooden table in front of the fireplace with large comfortable looking chairs. She saw cases full of books. Soft fabrics on the furniture, covering windows and on the window seat to the far right of the room. The room was lit by the fireplace with its blazing fire which appeared not to be giving off any heat, the chandelier above the table and various candles lit throughout the room. For all of it's beauty and opulence, there was no one in it.

“I guess if you have to wait for someone, there are worse places than this.” Writer Lady slowly walks the perimeter of the room starting from the far left (closest to the door) and working her way back towards the bookshelves.

“Those are all first editions. Signed. Signatures can be so important, don't you think?” The Gem's voice comes from the darkened far right of the room. A soft light glows from the cushion of the window seat, growing slowly in size, intensity and shape. “Wine?” The Gem of the Con asks as she rises from her resting place and crosses the room to greet Writer Lady who quietly shakes her head. The Gem is wearing a strapless, satin gown that makes her eyes glow in an otherworldly manner. “Come. Sit with me.”

Writer Lady sits down in the luxuriously overstuffed chair opposite the Gem, her whole body sighing with gratitude.

“This journey has been quite a challenge for you.” The Gem observes.

“Yes it has.”

Closing her eyes for a few brief seconds and then opening them the Gem says, “I see you have been learning patience. That you have had to put yourself up front and center for the greater good. Regardless of personal discomfort.”

“I'm not sure I'm much better at it.” Writer Lady answers with a nervous laugh.

“What you have learned through this journey will make you better at it the next time your patience is tested and coming forward needs to be called upon.”

“The next time?” Writer Lady asks.

“Yes, Writer Lady. Although the outcome of the quest will ultimately benefit Dobby, the challenges were all yours.”

“Shouldn't Dobby have had to jump through all of these hoops then?”

“Ideally yes. But being a cat he is limited. The two of you are so close you were his...”

“Slave, mule, the one who takes the punishment?” Writer Lady asks.

“Catalyst. You kept his journey moving forward. Several people are working together to make his destiny come to fruition because of what you are doing. You make him possible just like any mother would.”

“Thank you.”

“When your husband died the family unit that existed disappeared. You and Dobby are your own family. But like any mother, you wonder about the day he will not be with you. Will you have built a life that is full enough to go on without him?”

A sadness comes into Writer Lady's eyes. “Yes.”

“That is why patience and putting yourself up front outside of your comfort zone has been so important. You can continue building a life with Dobby and without him if your paths cease to travel together later on. I will send you home with what you came for. An autograph. Recognition for Dobby as a V.I.F. (Very Important Feline)." The Gem produces a picture printed on cardstock and a pen.  She carefully signs the picture handing it over to Writer Lady.

"I have something for you as well Writer Lady. Not an object but just bit of information that will help you continue on your way. Going through life alone is not something you wanted, something you hoped never would happen. It did. You are doing well. Relax and let yourself enjoy this journey. Be happy, relish it. Someday soon another will join you on the path you travel. You will be happy then too. Happiness is your destiny Writer Lady. Happiness and some good stories. Keep writing. You have lots to write about.”

The Quest For Dobby's Destiny Part XIII

“Okay we're in. Go talk to the Queen. Let's finish this already.” Warrior With Intense Blue Eyes yells to Writer Lady over the music.

“It's not that simple. She is a Queen after all.” Writer Lady says gesturing to the stage.

“It's not that hard either. This is not exactly a formal setting.” Warrior counters. “See!” he says gesturing to the stage where a large man dressed like Hagrid approached the Queen, danced with her long enough to have a brief conversation and left the stage. She did not call for guards, he was not shot with a laser gun, did not dissolve into the atmosphere while onlookers laughed viciously.

“That was probably a guard or something checking in.” Writer Lady said just as Hagrid walks by looking very intimidating to Writer Lady.

Warrior with Intense Blue Eyes reaches out to the man. “Hey man. How's it going?”

“Good.” Hagrid answers with hesitation.

“My aunt and I were having a disagreement and I wondered if you could help.”

Hagrid nods.

“You were just up on stage with the Queen. Are you one of her guards or something?”

“No. This is my first time at court. Tonight is a celebration. Completely informal. Anyone here is welcome to approach, introduce themselves and ask something of the Queen. As long as she is dancing.”

“My aunt needs to ask something of the Queen but she's shy. Will you take her up there?”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” Writer Lady says.

“I can't. It's against the rules. If I go up on stage once I've asked for something I won't have my request granted. It's a really important one. The other rule is you have to approach the Queen on your own.” Hagrid looks at Writer Lady. “Best of luck to you ma'am.”

“Thanks anyway man.” Warrior With Intense Blue Eyes says, Hagrid takes his leave, finding a seat along the perimeter of the room.

“Maybe if we all three go up there together?” Writer Lady asks.

“Merlin assigned this journey to you my sister. We should respect the rules of the court. You must approach the Queen on your own.”

“I've never met a Queen before.” Writer Lady says.

“Why don't you dance for a couple songs first?”

Writer Lady gives her sister a sideways glance. “I haven't danced in years. It might be fun.”

“We're going to find some seats. You go dance.” The Lady With The Long Golden Hair suggests.

Making her way closer to the dance floor and the stage, Writer Lady stands on the fringes of the crowd and starts dancing. Feeling awkward she looks around her. No one seems to be looking at her very closely. Something is still strange, is it just because she hasn't been out in so long, or is something else going on?

“Writer Lady's shaking all kinds of stuff. Hee hee hee.” TP's giggles can be heard inside her head.

“Shh! Stop that! Someone is going to hear you.” Writer Lady warns TP with her thoughts.

“Your face is getting red. There are men watching you shake your butt.” TP giggles more.

“That's it! I'm done dancing.” Writer Lady looks at the stage and sees someone has just left the Queen's company. Writer Lady charges up to the stage, stomping all the way up the stairs. The music is loud enough the other dancers do not sense her anger. By the time she reaches the Queen much of her anger had been replaced with fear. Writer Lady stands uneasily in front of the Queen of the Amazing 'Fro.

“Hello.” The Queen greets Writer Lady while continuing to dance.

“Good evening your highness.” Writer Lady returns the greeting and curtsies. The Queen reaches for her and stops Writer Lady halfway.

“This is the ball. The first rule is no rules, which means no formalities. This must be your first time at the ball with my Colorful Court.”

“Yes um...”

“Tonight is a night of fun. You may call me Q.” The Queen keeps dancing. “You?”

“I am Writer Lady, um Dobby's mom.”

The Queen looks at her waiting for better information.

“I met with the Lord and the Lady of the Drawn Story earlier? I'm Tinkletoes' um...friend.”

“Oh him.” The Queen says.

Writer Lady detects some tension and suspects this will no longer turn out well. “TP the faerie told Tinkletoes Merlin was sending me here on a quest and he couldn't come,” explanations come tumbling out. Writer Lady tries to get it all out as fast as she can before she can be thrown out completely.

“Tinkletoes couldn't come or TP?”

“Tinkletoes.”

“I see.” The Queen smiles bigger and dances more furiously than ever.

Writer Lady suspects the Queen is doing her own happy dance. Just a bit more quietly.

“What brings you to my court Writer Lady?”

“Merlin. He sent me on a quest to help fulfill Dobby's destiny. I was hoping you could get me an audience with the Gem of the Con.”

“That's a tall order for your first visit to court.” The Queen comments.

“You know what they say, 'Go big or go home.'” The Queen looks at her suspecting there is another reason. “Merlin told me to and he's incredibly powerful. I don't want to piss him off? It's also for my cat Dobby. He will be impossible to live with if I don't do this for him.”

“Like I said, it's a tall order. The Gem has been stressed lately. She is not her shiny self. I think I know just the right words to get you in. Here.” The Queen says grasping her by the arms and pulling Writer Lady into her spot on stage. “Take my place while I'm gone.”

“What?”

“Dance!”