Taking The Long Way Around

“The line has been discontinued, if the mug gets broken it can't be replaced.” Writer Lady argues.

TP disappears, reappearing next to Writer Lady.   “It's a four dollar mug.   It's not the Holy Grail.”  The faerie says giggling.

“You should hear what she says to it when she thinks she's alone in the kitchen.” Tinkletoes says.

“It's a cup.”  The faerie says.

“It's precious to her.”  Dylan says,  “My cup. My cup!”  The tow headed boy coughs.

“We need to get back to what's important.”  Tinkletoes says.  “Making War and Presidential me making it.”

“Presidents don't go to war, Silly Human.”  TP says.

“Yes, they do.”  Tinkletoes argues.

“Historically,”   Paige counters, rising from her spot next to her brothers,  “they don't.”

“They do now.”  Tinkletoes says grinning.  “I have guns, knives, ammo, semi-automatics, crates full of grenades.   When I'm President of the United States I am going to make all the war I want.”

Paige shakes her head.  “It's against the rules.”   She says.

“I'll change the stupid rules.  That's what being President is all about, changing the country around to suit you.”

Paige continues shaking her head.  “If you want to be President then you can't keep playing with grenades.”  She says.

“No grenades?”   The color slowly drains from Tinkletoes' face.  “At all?”

She shakes her head.

“Not even on holidays or special occasions?”

More head shaking.

“What about when nobody's lookin'?”   He asks.

More head shaking.

“What about President's Day?”

Paige confirms that he cannot do those things even on President's Day.

“When it's President's Day and I'm President?”  Tinkletoes counters.  “What fun is there in being President if I can't go make war with my grenades?”

“Sir?”  Peter says.  “Dylan and I have been learning about some of the things that the President of the United States can do because we want to help when you're elected.”

Tinkletoes nods at Peter and looks at Dylan.   Paige sits back down as Peter urges his little brother to stand up.   Once Dylan has stood up the room grows quiet and stays quiet.

“What's so great about being President if I can't use my grenades?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“You can pardon people.”  He says.

Tinkletoes makes a face.  “Show me.”  He says.

Ray and TP demonstrate.  Ray begins walking across the room and TP flies into him.

“Pardon me.”  TP says giggling.

“Pardon me.”  Ray says.

“It was my fault Mr. President.  Pardon me.”  TP says.

“It's okay.  You're free to go man.”   Ray says.

“Thank you.”  TP says.

“Duuuude.”

TP and Ray return to their seats.

Tinkletoes shakes his head.   “That's not better than grenades.  What else can the President do?”

“He makes appointments.”  Dylan says.

“That's what mothers are for.  Next.”

“It's not that kind of appointment.”  Monitor Man says.

“The President has the power to fill key positions within the Federal government including his Cabinet.”  Paige explains.

“Huh?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“You get to decide who works where.”

“That sounds more like it.  Let's fire Congress first.”  He says.

“You can't.  They are elected the same as you are.”  Monitor Man explains.

“I'll pick out their supervisor.   TP you can be a real hard ass.”

“I can.”  The faerie responds.

“He can.”  Dylan pipes in.

“Our last Halo tournament was brutal.”  Tinkletoes says looking at Monitor Man.

Writer Lady shakes her head and quietly sips her coffee.

“It was.”  Carp adds.  “Limited rations, water was the only beverage, scheduled bathroom breaks.”

“I had the stomach flu.”   Ray says.

“You toughed it out.”   Dylan says.  “Cause 'War is Hell'.”

“War is Hell.”  Ray says.  “Duuuude.”  He reaches over Peter's head to high five Dylan.

“I was a character in one of the Halo games.”   Monitor Man says. 

Everyone looks at Monitor Man, studying him. 

“I remember you!”  Dylan says.  “I love being you!”

Monitor Man smiles.

Tinkletoes looks at Monitor Man, then at Dylan, then back at Monitor Man. “You're that guy.”  He says.  “Good Soldier.   Good Man.”

“I remember that contest.”  Diomedes says looking at Writer Lady.   “Most riveting.  Bugsy and I are now learning how to participate.  The ways that you humans fight is completely different than the ways of magical beings...”

Tinkletoes clears his throat.

“Most riveting.”  Diomedes says finishing his thought.

“I still don't know if being President is going to be more fun than my grenades.”

“You'll be in charge of the armed forces.” House's voice sings.

“All of 'em?”   Tinkletoes asks.

“All of them.”  She responds.

“You could play with their grenades instead of yours.”   Dylan says.

Tinkletoes stands in front of the group not speaking, the wheels in his head turning, a twinkle appearing in his eyes.  He looks at Monitor Man and says.  “We could play a game of Halo.  A real one.”  Tinkletoes looks at Monitor Man, “Not a real, real one.  Not all of the technology exists yet.  It will when I get done.”

“How is this important?”   Writer Lady asks.

“I can prove to the American people that I can keep them safe and kill all the aliens.”  Tinkletoes announces proudly.

“Context...remember what we talked about.”  Monitor Man whispers.

Tinkletoes clears his throat.   “I can prove to the American people that I can keep them safe and kill all the Space Aliens.”

TP snaps his fingers, the television disappears, and a large dry-erase board appears behind Tinkletoes.

“Space Aliens are at the top of my list of concerns when it comes to the current state of this country.”   Ray says looking at Dylan.

The little boy nods in agreement.

“That and the pending re-collapse of our economy.  It's totally coming.”

Tinkletoes overhears and looks at Ray.  “Ray.  Destruction of all space aliens.” He says.

“You're right.  We should stay with the important stuff.”   He agrees.

A couple of coughs are heard coming from the direction of the couch.

“Speaking of important subjects...”  Writer Lady says.  “...Monitor Man has something to say.”

“I did bribe you with coffee so you would get up didn't I?”  He says smiling.

“You kind of did.”  Writer Lady smiles back.

“Good coffee?”

“Good coffee.”

Tinkletoes looks around the room, fidgeting, and waiting his turn.  He pulls the cap off of the marker, puts it back on, pulls it off the of the marker...

“Grown-ups...”   Dylan says.

“...can be so boring.”  Ray says, finishing the sentence

“I did come all of this way to talk to you about a war.  The Ninja Zombie War.”

Why The Bear Came To The Door

“The eyeball made this disgusting sound.   It might have slid up and down my heel as I walked.”

“Feelings?  We were talking about feelings?”   Monitor Man prompts.

'That eyeball squished every time I took a step.  Did you know that?”  She asks looking back at him.

“Go ahead...”  He says huskily. “...talk about your feelings.” 

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man.  “Remember that you wanted me to do this.  You asked me to talk about my feelings.”

Monitor Man nods in agreement.

“Do you remember when you were a kid?  Imagine that you're a kid and your brother tells you that you're going to get a new bike for Christmas.  He tells you over and over that he has seen signs that it's going to happen.  Your Christmas dream is going to come true.  You know that you haven't been the best behaved lately.   You have been doing your chores carelessly and slacking on the quality of your homework.   You tell yourself,  'No way.  It's never going to happen.  I'm not getting a new bike for Christmas.'  Your brother persists.  He heard Mom and Dad talking about what Santa is bringing.  You want to believe that he is talking about it so much because there is something to it.  You want to believe that he's right.  You hear it so much that eventually you start to believe that you're getting that new bike for Christmas too.  You can't wait for Christmas morning, you're so excited.   Christmas morning comes.  You jump out of bed and run downstairs you look everywhere...no bike.  That's how I felt."

Things are quiet for a moment.

“I'm as exciting as a new bike?”  Monitor Man asks.

Writer Lady continues, “It's just one of those things, you tell yourself not to believe it.  You close yourself off to the idea completely or you think that you are being unrealistic and then it doesn't happen.  Even though you insisted to yourself that it wasn't going to happen a part of you is still disappointed.  A little bit sad.

“So those were your feelings?”  Monitor Man asks.

Writer Lady nods.  “Disappointed and a little bit sad.  Irritated with myself.”

Monitor Man looks at Writer Lady.

She continues without looking at him.   “That I'm not one of those women...one that would have jumped on the opportunity and kissed you anyway whether you had a girlfriend or not.”  She finishes, studying the blanket, folding it and unfolding a section of the blanket's edge between her fingers.

Monitor Man reaches out gently guiding her face to look at him.  “I'm glad that you aren't one of those women and it's nice to be someone's new bike.”

Writer Lady starts to smile and covers her mouth with her hand.  Uncovering her mouth she says, “It wasn't the best analogy.”

“I'm proud to be a new bike.”

Writer Lady starts looking around.  “Are we done here?”
“Feelings are something that you don't like to talk about.”  He teases.

“Feeling words can be powerful.  They can have a lot of weight.  Since we're sharing,”  Writer Lady says changing the subject,  “why did you come here?  You have been gone all of this time.  What compelled you to choose to come here now?”

“To see you.”  Monitor Man says, a smile crosses his lips.   “About a war.”

“Did someone say 'war'?”  Tinkletoes asks.   The self-proclaimed mercenary's head is peeking through the door.

“How do you know what Monitor Man said?   Didn't you go home?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Yeah.  I put a microphone in here.  That way I know when things are getting interesting and it's a good time to come over.”

“A microphone?”  Writer Lady asks.  She starts looking around the room.

“Get up.   Come into the living room and let's talk about war.  Ray's making coffee.”  Tinkletoes says.

Monitor Man looks at Writer Lady.

“Ray is making coffee?  Do you think that's a good idea?”  Writer Lady asks Tinkletoes.

“TP's helping him.”

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man.

“What?  I said that there was gonna be coffee.”   Tinkletoes says.   “Come on...war is the fun part.”  Tinkletoes' head disappears and the door closes again.

Writer Lady groans, she leans on Monitor Man's shoulder, and closes her eyes.

“I do have a great idea.”  Monitor Man says.  “Let's go get some coffee and I'll tell you all about it.”  He whispers.

Writer Lady doesn't respond.

Monitor Man gently nudges her with his shoulder.  “Come on.”  He says.

“I'm comfortable.”

“If you get up and go into the living room I'll bring you coffee.”

“Good coffee?”

“Um hmm.”

“With sugar?  And half and half?”

“Yes.”  He says smiling.

“O...kay.”

Monitor Man smiles and gets out of bed.

Writer Lady grudgingly stands up too.   “I want to borrow that shoulder again before you go.”  She says.

He grins without answering and leaves the room.

“I'm not kidding!”  Writer Lady calls after him.

Tinkletoes stands at the front of the room waiting...battle is coming and he is firing on all cylinders.   The consummate fighter.  Focused, alert, ready for action.  Tinkletoes isn't only great, he sets the standard for soldiers everywhere both on the planet and throughout the universe.

“TP would you stop it with the narrative already.”  Writer Lady says from her spot on the couch, Diomedes is flanking her on one side and Furnatche is curled up at her feet.  The room is full.  Tinkletoes made sure he woke up everyone.

Tinkletoes looks at TP and nods.  The faerie comes in close for a high five.  The self-proclaimed mercenary's thumb and TP's hand meet.

“You're using that for the commercial aren't you?”  Writer Lady asks.

“It's for the commercial.”  He confirms.

“Do you have a slogan?”   Diomedes asks.

“Vote Tinkletoes.   He Won't Spend All Of Your Money On Clothes.”  TP says giggling.

Everyone in the room looks at each other.  They give it a “thumbs down.”

“How about something shorter.”  Dylan suggests.

“Vote Tinkletoes.  He Won't Tickle Your Nose.”

Thumbs down.

“It should be something that you want people to remember about you or your campaign.”  Paige calls.

“Vote Tinkletoes.  I Never Pick My Nose.”

Thumbs down.

“It's true and it rhymes.”  Peter says in an effort to be supportive.

“He never picks.”  Dylan agrees, shaking his head.

Tinkletoes looks at the crowd, smiles for a moment and says, “I'll Kill All The Aliens.”

“I thought that we agreed that statement left too much open to interpretation.” Monitor Man says as he steps around people, over Dobby and avoids a frontal assault from the kittens to his bare feet to deliver a cup of coffee to Writer Lady.

“Yeah.”  Tinkletoes agrees, losing his smile.

Writer Lady smiles at Monitor Man and accepts the mug.  “Thank you.  This is my favorite mug too.   How did you know?”  She asks.

“When I reached for it Ray screamed like he'd been stabbed with a hot poker.”

“Post Traumatic Stress.”  Tinkletoes says.  “She really loves that mug.”

Late Night Conversations

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man, her eyes growing wide.   She presses her lips together indicating that it wasn't her who pointed this detail out.   Monitor Man looks at Writer Lady holding her gaze for several seconds.

“I thought that it would be a nice way to spend more time with Writer Lady.”  He turns facing TP, House, and Mural Man again.  “I only did what Tinkletoes told me to do because it gave me the opportunity that I was looking...”  Monitor Man holds up one hand and modifies his words, “I was hoping for.”

“Tinkletoes opened the door.”  Mural Man says.

“I just chose to walk through it.”   Monitor Man says.

“That's your argument,” House says.  “In other words, it's okay to do something that other people want you to do as long as there is some sort of pay off for you?”   She asks.

“Care—ful.”   TP sings.  “It's a set up.”  The faerie warns giggling.

Monitor Man takes his time answering.  “No.  It is about making a conscious decision whether you want to do something or not.  Not blindly following along. In this case, I followed orders because I knew...”  Monitor Man looks at Writer Lady and says,  “what I wanted.”

Writer Lady smiles gently and looks away.

“Yeah.  Yeah.”   House says sarcastically rolling her eyes.  She looks at Mural Man and says, “I'm done here.”

“It looks like it's time to go.”   Mural Man announces.  “It was nice meeting you.” He says looking at Monitor Man.

“It was nice meeting you too.”   Monitor Man says.  “Don't forget that we're getting together soon.”

House glares at Mural Man.

“I'm not sure that's going to be possible.”  Mural Man says.

“Make your own choice.”  Monitor Man says.

Mural Man, House, and TP make their way towards the door.

“She's got to sleep some time.”   Monitor Man whispers to Mural Man as he slides past Monitor Man's side of the bed.

“I heard that!”   House exclaims.

“Good.”   Monitor Man counters.  “That woman?  She's terrible.”  He says looking at Writer Lady when they are alone again.  “Is she always like that?”

“She's not the nicest but she also isn't a woman.   Not really.”

“She um...”

“No.  House is the house.”

Monitor Man raises an eyebrow.

“House is this house.  It's kind of a long story.”

“I'm not tired.”  Monitor Man says, positioning his pillow against the headboard and leaning back.   “Give me the highlights.”

“You remember the Ninja Zombie War?”  Writer Lady asks.

Monitor Man nods.

“House made her presence known the same day I went to see you.  She took all of Dobby's toys and wouldn't give them back because he wasn't picking them up like she told him to.  Over the previous weeks, I had spent a lot of time complaining that I couldn't keep up with everything and kept saying, 'This house doesn't clean itself.'   TP changed that.  He made the house a living breathing entity that could hear, see, have thoughts, emotions...”

“and clean itself.”  Monitor Man says finishing her sentence.

“Yes.   Skipping forward, during the Ninja Zombie War, Carp developed a man crush on you, he decided that you and I were supposed to be together.  How a man crush becomes the object of their affection's dating service, I don't know but somehow he did.  When I didn't return home from the war hand in hand with you, Carp was crushed.”

“How did you feel?”   Monitor Man asks.

“TP put a mural of you up on my bedroom wall to make Carp feel a little better and to pick on me a little bit too.  According to Carp I ruined everything.”

Monitor Man looks at Writer Lady and listens closely.

“House took one look at Mural Man and fell in love.  He seemed to like her too so TP created a mural of her choosing, that way they could interact on some level.”

“You didn't answer my question.”  Monitor Man says.

“To answer your question, House hasn't always been polite to the rest of us but she adores Mural Man.  Lately she has gotten a little bit cranky with him too.  I think that there might be too many of us.”

“What does a house feel like when it's too full?”  He asks.

“I don't know...bloated?  House knows that Carp had plans and Mural Man looks just like you.  You are a reminder that Mural Man was not created for her.  She feels threatened pretty easily.”

“Mural Man was for you?”  He asks.

“For Carp.  To get to enjoy his fantasy that his vision for us came true.”

“You never tried to take him away from House?”

“A picture of a man?  He's made out of paper.  What am I going to do with a man made out paper?”

“Stand next to him and take lots of pictures?”  Monitor Man asks.

“I prefer a real man.”

Monitor Man starts to open his mouth.  Writer Lady puts a finger to his lips to stop him.  “A human one.”  She says lowering her hand.

“You're kind of limiting yourself aren't you?”

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man.

“What about super hereos, humanoid space aliens, time travelers?”

“A human.”  Writer Lady says smiling.

“A Jedi?”

Writer Lady looks at him sternly.

“You still haven't answered my question.”  Monitor Man says.  “How did you feel about not returning home with me?”

“We had to travel nearly two hours in a cab spending the whole time weaving this elaborate story about being in a local movie to try to convince the driver that the putrid smell in his car was fake blood and not ninja zombie blood.”

“Still not answering my question.”

“He kept asking us if this actor was in it or that actor was in it.  One time Tinkletoes wasn't listening and said that he met John Wayne.  John Wayne?  In a zombie movie?  The cabby almost radioed for the state police.  We convinced him that Tinkletoes was trying to be funny and he put down the hand set.”

Monitor Man waits.

“I don't know how he didn't see the eyeball that was threaded through the heel of my boot.   Did you know that there was a zombie eyeball on the heel of my boot?”

Monitor Man leans in and whispers.   “You're not going to talk about your feelings are you?”

When The Bear Meets Himself

TP reaches out with the feather, gently stroking Monitor Man's toe.  The sound returns. House, TP and Mural Man look at each other smiling and laughing quietly.  TP flutters forward getting closer to his prey.  Using the feather the faerie makes one long stroke along the most ticklish portion of the foot.  A full laugh emerges from Monitor Man that ends with a snort.  Writer Lady raises her head and opens her eyes to find Monitor Man looking at her.

“Did you just snort?”   She asks.

“Who me?   Of course not.”

“What was that sound?”

House and TP stifle their laughter from the shadows.

“Maybe it was one of the cats.”   Monitor Man suggests.

Writer Lady looks around, “There aren't any cats in the room.”

“The little dragon?”

“He's not in here either.”

“The big dragon?”  Monitor Man asks.

Writer Lady starts to answer and then stops, thinking for a moment.   “You've never seen Diomedes.   How do you know there's a big dragon?”  She asks.

Monitor Man cups a hand to one ear as if cuing fate to offer up an answer quickly.  “I heard about him?   When a big dragon appears suddenly word gets around.”

“Diomedes doesn't sleep in this part of the house and besides, he's a gentleman.  He never snorts.   If you two had met then you would know that.”

“I don't snort.   If I did...I would hear it.   Besides I'm an actor.  I'm not allowed to snort.  Well, only if it's in the script.”

Writer Lady looks at him assessing his honesty.  “I'm sorry I accused you then.”

“Actors are good liars too.”  TP says giggling.

“Is that you TP?”   Writer Lady asks.

There is more giggling.

“TP!”

“It's not just me,” the faerie answers giggling.

Writer Lady rolls over and reaches for a light switch, after several seconds of waiting for their vision to adjust...the pair find out who exactly is in the room and Monitor Man gets his first glimpse of...well...himself.  Writer Lady uses some inappropriate language.  She looks at Monitor Man.  “It seems that we have an audience.”

“An audience?  An audience to what?”   Monitor Man asks.

“That's a good question.”   Writer Lady says.

“I'm glad that you liked my question because I have a few more.  Who are these people?  Why are they watching us?  Why does that guy look just like me?”

There is a marked silence.

“Well?” Monitor Man asks.

“I'm thinking.”   Writer Lady answers.  “I guess that the first thing to do here is to make some introductions.  You know TP.”

Monitor Man gives TP a nod.

“The willowy brunette on the wall next to him is House.”

Monitor Man says “Hello.”

“Hello back sexy.”  House responds in her most sultry voice.

“The...man closest to you is Mural Man.”

“Hello.”  Monitor Man and Mural Man say, greeting each other in unison.

“He's your twin.”   TP giggles.   “I made him so that Carp could see you and Writer Lady together.”

“But they aren't together.”  House says pointedly.   “He's with me.  Mural Man is my husband.”

Mural Man makes his way along the wall back to House.  “Your husband.”  He says. “I thought that you had commitment issues.”

“I do. I have issues with you being with anyone else. Now you're my husband.”

“I'm not sure that's the best reason for committing yourself to another person.” Mural Man says.

“It's what you want. Does it really matter how we get there?” House asks.

“No?”   Mural Man asks.

“Then shut up and smile.”

“Shutting up and smiling.” Mural Man says.

“House is not very nice, is she?”  Monitor Man asks looking at Writer Lady.

“She is a diamond in the rough.”  Mural Man says, answering Monitor Man's question.“We're working on it.”

“I can see what's missing from Mural Man's limited dimensions.”  Monitor Man whispers.

“His nuts.” TP says giggling.

“If any important aspects of my character are missing it's only because you are missing those characteristics as well.”Mural Man counters.

Monitor Man looks at Writer Lady.

“Mural Man..what happened?  You're always so kind.”  Writer Lady says.

“I am.  I have to apologize to you Writer Lady but House is special to me. Monitor Man...”  Mural Man says, motioning with his head, “is saying not very nice things about her.”

“I'm sure that Monitor Man didn't mean it that way.”

“She's right.”Monitor Man agrees.“But being understanding of others does not mean that you should let them treat you the way that House is treating you.”

Mural Man's face begins to turn red.

“I think...” Writer Lady says, changing the subject, “that it is nice that you two are getting the chance to meet. Aren't you curious about the person you were created in the image of? Won't it be nice to get to know what Monitor Man is actually like and learn some new things.”

“I can teach Monitor Man a few things.” House purrs.

“You already have a husband.” Mural Man says.

“I can have two. You have to sleep sometime.”

Monitor Man shakes his head. “Writer Lady is right Mural Man. We should spend some time together. I think that I can...”

Writer Lady slides her hand across the bed. She reaches out and pinches Monitor Man.

“I think that we...” Monitor Man says correcting himself, “could learn a lot from each other.”

“Maybe Monitor Man can help you grow a pair.” TP says.

Monitor Man unsuccessfully hides his smile. “You really shouldn't let people tell you what to do all of the time.” He says.

House leans in and whispers something to Mural Man.

“You're right.”Mural Man admits.

“Tell us Monitor Man, you yummy thing you, how much of your life is spent doing what other people tell you to do, even when you aren't working.  How exactly did you end up in this bed with Writer Lady?   Didn't you just follow Tinkletoes' orders?”

When The Bear Meets His Fate

“But...” Pixie Three says, “We were having such a lovely conversation.”

“I was just getting started.” Pixie One says.

Tinkletoes swiftly raises his hand, scooping the pixies into an empty jelly jar. “Now  it's over.”  He says, covering the jar and locking them in.  “Carp.” Tinkletoes says. “If you don't mind.”

“Mind?   You just made my night.” Carp says taking the jar and leaving the room.

Tinkletoes points to Writer Lady.  “You.  Stay here.”

“You'd better hurry with that.  Tinkletoes will be back any second and he's pissed.”  Carp says to Monitor Man as he walks past the front door.

Monitor Man continues smiling and politely saying “good night” to large groups of pixies as they leave the house.   “Thank you for coming.”   Monitor Man smiles and waves.   “Things will go much more smoothly next time.”  He says.

“I should hope so.”  A pixie exclaims as she leaves the house.

The pixies slowly rise up into the night, blending in with the stars and eventually disappearing into the darkened sky.

Carp comes back into the living room.   “Where's TP?”  He asks.

“I don't know.  He disappeared when Tinkletoes declared the party over.”

“I need to do something with these.”  Carp says holding up the jelly jar.   Three pixies are in the jar.   One is flying near the lid.  The second is sitting quietly at the bottom.   The third is fluttering in the middle making a rude gesture with her hand.

“That isn't very feminine.”  Carp says to the third pixie.

The pixie taps against the glass so that Carp can get a better look at her disdain.

“It's okay.”  Monitor Man says, reaching out to take the jar from Carp's hand.   “I know these ladies.  I think that I can smooth things over.”  He takes the jelly jar of pixies outside, closing the door behind him.

“That was easy.”  Carp says.

“Where's Monitor Man?”  Tinkletoes calls from the bedroom.  “Get him in here. Now.”

“Clearly it was a bit too easy.”

“Go to bed.”   Tinkletoes orders as he closes the door behind him.   “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“This is awkward.”  Writer Lady says looking at Monitor Man.

Both are in pajamas, their are teeth brushed and each are standing on opposite sides of Writer Lady's bed.

“Yes.  It is.”   Monitor Man agrees.  “But in the morning it won't be.”

Writer Lady ponders his words. “No. It won't be.”  She agrees.  “On three?”  She asks.

“On three.” Monitor Man agrees.

“One...two...”

“three.”  Monitor Man says finishing the countdown.

Writer Lady pulls back the covers and climbs in.  She lays down on her side of the bed, doing it without looking at Monitor Man.  She suspects that he has done the same because she can feel his weight on the opposite side of the bed.  Writer Lady closes her eyes.  Sleep does not come.  She turns over on to her back. Sleep still doesn't come.  Monitor Man is not moving much.  His eyes are closed. Writer Lady turns with her back to Monitor Man again and tries to sleep...nothing.

“Can't sleep?”   Monitor Man asks.

“I woke you.   I'm sorry.”

“You didn't.  I'm having trouble sleeping too.”

“This is awkward, right?”  She asks.

“Yes.  A little.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”  Writer Lady asks.

“No.  How about you?”   Monitor Man asks.

Writer Lady's gaze wanders to Monitor Man's shoulder.   In a moment of boldness she asks, “Can I borrow your shoulder for a little while?”

“You can.”

Within seconds she has scooted over and tucked herself in next to Monitor Man.

“Thank you.”   She whispers.  “It's been a while since I've had this.”  She says drifting off to sleep.

A faint whisper might have come from Monitor Man's lips but sleep came too quickly for her to be sure.  Writer Lady did not hear anything not the sounds of the children, animals or even the cooing coming from the wall behind her.

“Awe...”

Writer Lady hears House's release of sound but the fact that it is more than a breeze whistling through its eaves does not register.   Then the whispering starts.

“They look so cute together.  I wonder if we look that cute together.”   Mural Man says.

“She finally got one.”  House says.  “A hot one too.”

“I think that guy kind of looks like me.  Don't you think that he looks like me?” Mural Man asks as he slides along the wall edging closer to the bed.

“He does.  Two of you in one place.”   House says.  “I thought life couldn't get any better.”  She starts singing... “It's Raining Men,” by The Weather Girls.

“What's going on?”  TP asks as he pops into the bedroom.

“Writer Lady and some really hot guy are canoodling.”  House says.

“They aren't canoodling.   They're cuddling.”  Mural Man says.

“They will be canoodling.  Any second now.  Trust me.”  House says.

“I think that guy kind of looks like me TP.  What do you think?”  Mural Man asks.

“That's Monitor Man.   You are a picture of him.  Of course you look like each other Silly.” TP giggles looking at Mural Man.   “I wonder if he's ticklish.” TP says spying one of Monitor Man's toes peeking out from under the covers.

“Stay here.”  House says.   “Don't spoil our fun.”

TP waves a hand and a very long feather appears.  “TP's not going anywhere. TP can still play.”   TP manuevers the feather to the base of Monitor Man's toe and strokes.  “Tick-le, tick-le, tick-le...”   He says.

A strange sound comes out of Monitor Man.

“Did he just...giggle?”  Mural Man asks.

TP nods, the faerie's face is red with unreleased laughter.

“Quick.  Do it again.  Do it again.”  House whispers.

TP moves in with the feather to get a better angle.

Into The Fire

Knock, knock, knock!

Carp opens the bedroom door to find three pixies standing on the other side of it.

“Hi.”   Pixie One says.

“We wanted to stop by and say 'Hello'.”   Pixie Two says.

“Hello.”  Carp says and begins to shut the bedroom door.

“What are you doing?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Saying 'good-bye' to the snoops.”  Carp says as he closes the door the rest of the way.

“That isn't very polite.”  Writer Lady says.

“What they're here for isn't very polite either.”   He counters.

“Open the door Carp.”

“You're going to feel like you've been run over when they leave.   You'll never be sure which bus hit you.”

“How do you know?”  Writer Lady asks.

“They're pixies, they hang out with TP, they are part of the faerie press and they're females.  Hel-lo.”

Writer Lady crosses her arms and waits.

“If you're determined to be raked over those magical coals...well don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Open the door.”  Writer Lady says.

Carp opens the door.  “Ooops.  Sorry.  The door just slipped.”

All three pixies glare at him.  They cross the threshold into Writer Lady's bedroom and begin floating up stopping when they are eye level with Writer Lady.

“Hello.”   Writer Lady says.

“Hello.”   The three pixies answer in unison.

“The door shutting in your faces really was an accident.”  Carp says.

Pixie One turns to look at Carp.  She 'Hmms...' with indignation and turns back to Writer Lady.  “As I was saying.  We came to say 'Hello'.”

Pixie Two and Three chime in.  “Hello!”  Smiling enthusiastically.

“Hello”  Writer Lady repeats laughing a little.

“We would like to get to know the woman that has stolen Monitor Man's heart.  He is one of our most favorite humans.”

“I wouldn't say that I've stolen his heart.”

“You definitely have his interest.”  Pixie One says.

“How long have you had his interest?”  Pixie Two asks.

Writer Lady looks at Carp who mouths the words, “Told you.”

“My goodness that is a specific question.   A very specific question.”  She thinks for a moment, then says,  “I had no idea that Monitor Man had any interest in me whatsoever.”

“Really?”  Pixie One asks.

“I have not seen him since The Ninja Zombie War.”

Pixies One, Two and Three all take out recording devices and put them in Writer Lady's face.

“You haven't?”  Pixie One asks.

“I have not.”  Writer Lady repeats.

“You do not know of his break-up with Incredibly Hot Woman?  Are you not aware that he has been dating one woman after another never to settle in with any other starlet?   It is most unusual behavior.”   Pixie One says looking at Writer Lady accusingly.

“I'm sorry he's having a tough time?”  Writer Lady offers.

“I...we have been reporting since the early days of Hollywood.  We see patterns of behavior.  We know that Monitor Man flits from woman to woman like this when he's trying to throw us off.” Pixie One says.

“He's hiding something.”  Pixie Two adds.

“We think it's you.”  Pixie Three finishes.

“Is it?”  Pixie Two asks.

“You?”  Pixie Three continues.

“Me?”  Monitor Man asks.  “No.  This budget is the work of Tinkletoes.  As you can see he worked really hard on it.”  He says looking at the display behind him.

Tinkletoes' Budget

$2,000.00/mnth Cupcakes

$500,000.00/mnth Guns, Knives and Ammo

Two Million/mnth Lightsaber Research and Development

Twenty Million/mnth Space Alien Defense

Twenty Million/mnth Zombie Apocalypse Prevention

I will need $42,522,000/mnth not including Room, Board, Medical, Dental, Living Expenses and Walking Around Money.

The pixie press begins protesting the moment Monitor Man stops talking. Tinkletoes enters the kitchen, walking past the crowd of pixies and joining him at the podium.

“How's it going?”  Tinkletoes whispers, smiling for the crowd.

“Not good.   Not good at all.”   Monitor Man says.

“Did you mention that the $2,000/month was for the really fancy cupcakes?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Yes.  They still don't like the budget.”

“Do they know how fancy the cupcakes are?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Yes.  I even told that you would share.”  Monitor Man says.

“That's the problem.  They know that I would never do that.”  He whispers.

“They keep shaking their heads and asking why Writer Lady isn't baking the cupcakes.”

“She won't have time.  She will be too busy following me around and calling me 'Commander'.”

Feeling a tug on his pant leg Tinkletoes looks down to find Dylan looking up at him.  Dylan crooks his finger and Tinkletoes squats down for more information.

“It's not about the $2,000 cupcake.   It's the forty million a month.”  Dylan says.

Tinkletoes looks up at Monitor Man who looks down and nods.

Tinkletoes stands up and glares at Monitor Man.

“Why didn't you tell me?”   Tinkletoes asks.

“I was working my way up the list.”  He says.

“It's okay.” Tinkletoes calls out to the crowd, taking his place in front of the microphone.  “The forty million a month does not go to just one thing.   Twenty million is for Space Alien Defense and twenty goes to Zombie Apocalypse Prevention.”

The crowd starts booing.

“This is ridiculous.”  One pixie calls out.

“Who's paying for this?”  Another pixie calls.

“Humans, all they do is spend, spend, spend.”

“You humans are all alike.”  A pixie in the front row says.   “You're afraid of anything that is a little bit different.”

Tinkletoes looks at Monitor Man, then looks back at the crowd.  “Afraid?  No we aren't afraid.  As a human, I'll explain it to you.  We are not afraid.   We just like to kill things before they have the chance to kill us.  We are protecting ourselves and all of you.  That money will see to it that no zombies or space aliens get the opportunity to wipe us out.”

“Like you protected yourself from those innocent Ninja Zombies?”  A pixie calls.

The booing grows louder.

Tinkletoes turns his head towards Monitor Man and whispers, “Now is the time, when the chips are down that we do what all great politicians do.”

“What is that?”

“Declare the party over.”  Tinkletoes whispers.

“So?”  Pixie Three asks.

“Is it?”  Pixie One continues.

Writer Lady looks to Carp for direction.

He mouths the question, “Having fun?”

“He is not hiding me.  I have been here the whole time.  Until recently I thought that Monitor Man found me as interesting as his annual prostate exam.”

“No, no, no...”  Pixie Two giggles.

“He hates those.”  Pixie Three says.  “Do you remember the time Monitor Man had the flu?”

“When he had the really high fever?”  Pixie Two nods.  “He kept saying, 'No Doc, don't ask me to bend over.  I don't want to bend over.' ”

Pixie One starts giggling as well until she sees Writer Lady smiling.  The pixie retreats back to her serious stance and says.  “Are you saying that you didn't know about this?”  Pixie One rewinds her recorder and presses play.

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

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

Writer Lady pales and looks at Carp.

“Told you.”   He says.

The bedroom door bursts open.

“Okay, that's it.  The party's over!”   Tinkletoes calls out.  “It's time for you ladies to go.”   He says looking at the pixies.

Kissing and Telling

Tinkletoes reaches out and grasps Monitor Man's shoulder.  “They can see in the dark.”

TP disappears quickly.

“Fantastic.”   Tinkletoes whispers in Monitor Man's ear.

Monitor Man tenses in preparation for the coming altercation.  “Um...yeah.”

“They are gonna make great secret service officers.  They love you so much, we shouldn't have any trouble recruiting a few of them.  We're still running mates, aren't we?”

Monitor Man coughs briefly.   “Yeah.”

“I thought we could get together here when we need to go over stuff.”  Tinkletoes says.

Monitor Man feels a tug on his pant leg and looks down to find Dobby looking up at him and shaking his head 'No.'

“You like Writer Lady okay, don't you?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Yeah.”  Monitor Man says.

“Good.”  Tinkletoes says patting Monitor Man on the back.  “I'll make sure to tell her that you're sleeping in her bed tonight.”

“What?”  Writer Lady asks.

“I said, 'That doesn't count.'”   Carp responds.  “I heard your thoughts!  That kiss was waaaay hotter than 'his breathe was minty and sweet'.”

“It's the truth.”  Writer Lady says.  “Besides, less is more.”  She adds weakly.

“In your case less is useless.  You need to amp up your descriptions because no one is going to read that novel honey.”

“Okay.   Fine.  You read my thoughts.  You're a writer.  How would you tell it?”

Carp looks at Writer Lady studying her expression.  “His lips were surprisingly soft even though his skin was rough against my cheek.”

Writer Lady shakes her head.  “He was clean shaven.   I think his aftershave is what smelled so good.”

The would-be assassin takes out a notebook and starts writing as he narrates.  “His lips were as soft as his freshly shaved cheek and the scent of his aftershave still lingered on his skin; it was as intoxicating as he was.  He held me close, engulfing me.  I could feel the solidness of his arm muscles flexing under his sleeves.  My suitor was having trouble curbing his wanton desires.”  Carp looks at Writer Lady who is looking at him with disapproval.

“It wasn't like that.”  She says.   “He kind of...drew me in.  He drew me in to a special place and we were the only two people there.   It was warm and I felt...safe.”

“Are you ready for the big finish?”   Carp asks.

Writer Lady nods unenthusiastically.

“I could hear him growl low in the back of his throat, he quickly and expertly pinned me against the nearest wall.  I could feel nothing except his...”

Writer Lady mouths the word, “children”.

Carp sighs briefly, “...passion.  A passion so strong that I could barely stand up.”

“I don't know where you get that.   None of that last bit happened.”  Writer Lady hesitates for a moment deciding how much to share.  “I did lose my balance...a little.”

“That is one hot man.”  Carp says.   “Who could blame you?”

“I don't think I had lunch today.   That had to have been what made me dizzy.”

“Not the hot man holding you in his arms and... ?”  Carp asks, he grabs a bed pillow and begins demonstrating.

“Do you ever think about what it would mean if a child were to read your writing?”  Writer Lady asks, changing the subject.

“It means that I just saved Mommy and Daddy one of those special talks.”

THUMP!

Carp reaches out and opens the bedroom door.  Taking advantage of the opportunity, Tinkletoes sticks his head inside.  “Hi.  I just wanted to take a minute to let you know that Monitor Man is sleeping in your bed tonight.”

Carp looks at Writer Lady and grins.

“What do you mean?”  She asks.

“Since we're in the early stages of this campaign he needs to stick around.  The guy's gotta sleep.”

“Where am I going to sleep?”  Writer Lady asks.

Tinkletoes looks at the bed.  “That's a good size bed.   I'm sure y'all won't be fightin' each other for space.  Besides when people are sleeping they don't move around a lot.  What else is a bed for?”  Tinkletoes turns his head away listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen.  “I've got to go.  I left Monitor Man alone in there talking about budgety stuff.   There's never much to say about that.” Tinkletoes closes the door leaving Carp and Writer Lady alone again.

“When the wall falls on Tinkletoes there won't be anything left.   Not even a boot."  Carp says looking at the closed door.

When The Magic Becomes Real -- Not An SNS Story

 I have a confession to make.   I can be cynical about love.   I don't mean quietly rolling your eyes when someone posts a picture of them with their third “true love” this year on Facebook.   I mean cynical.   Saying “Not Again!” as loudly as possible, heckling romantic movies, blaring “Love Stinks” throughout the house, watching as little television as possible between the months of November and February cynical.  On a really bad day I have an urge to put something through the television.  Of course, that was years ago.  I must be mellowing in some ways.  
     The truth is that I am cynical at times because I believe in love.  Intensely.
     I can hear your “Whaaaat?” from here. 
     It doesn't make much sense does it?
     George Carlin said that “Inside every cynical person is a disappointed idealist.”   Bearing that in mind,  I must really love...love.  I do. 
     We talk about it, write about it,  sing songs about it, and make movies about it.  People that can't even understand each other due to language barriers agree that love is a wonderful thing.  Love is universal.   It's also amazing, unpredictable and life affirming.  When two people are right for each other it is quite simply, stunning.  It also makes the world a more beautiful place for the rest of us.
     This cynic has another confession.   I love fairy tales too. 
     “Omg, you're one of those women aren't you?”  Yes, I heard that.   I know what you're thinking.  When my cynic is in charge I say those things too.   “She's always dreaming of a man.  Some women just can't be without a man.  She'd be happier if she would just relax and stop looking for a man.”   I have heard other women say things like, “I thought things would be different.  I thought that he was going to take care of me.” I also thought to myself,  What planet is she from?  I think I want to live there.    I have listened to the arguments against fairy tales and the ridiculous expectations they create.  I have at times agreed with them.  Those arguments, you know the ones, that suggest that women grow up with unrealistic expectations of what love is and what their lives will look like after they have found it. Mentally, I blamed the fairy tales for these views of romantic love.
    Now for my point.  Yes Mom.  I have one.  I think.  No there might be like, three or something. 
    Lately, I have been believing in impossible things.  I know what you're thinking, “She's changing the subject.  Why is she changing the subject?”  Be patient with me.  I know that my road meanders a bit but trust me, I'll get you there.   While believing in impossible things you realize how much of life is full of possibility.  (See Six Impossible Things on Wattpad).  Today my impossible thing was:  Today Magic Will Become Real.
   My impossible thing from yesterday came true.  Today I will embark on a new journey.  All details are worked out for me. My only requirement is to step out the front door.  Late in the afternoon I went for a walk.   I embarked on a journey and clearly the details were taken care of.  It's not the vision I had but...it still happened.
   This morning while I was in the shower, showers are good places for thinking just so you know,  I was thinking about today's impossible thing.  I wondered when does magic become real?  My answer:  When two people have that brief fairy tale moment, looking into each other's eyes and falling in love.  That is when magic becomes real.  See I told you I'd get there.
    That is truly the magic of fairy tales and why it is good to love them.  The handsome princes, the fair maidens, the fire breathing dragons, the kingdoms far, far away, even the vague “They lived happily ever after” which I would be happy to explore with you down the road, shit...back to my point.  They are the window dressings.  The reason we take part and read, listen to or watch the story is for that one moment, when the magic becomes real. 

In The Dark With The Bear

The room is completely dark.  Writer Lady can hear random chatter around her. 

 Pixies calling, “What's happened?”  “Someone's turned out the the lights.” “Magic is so much more reliable.”  

Tinkletoes' footfalls (okay...thumps) can be heard leaving the area.

Monitor Man's arms are still around her holding her upright.  “The lights will be on again soon.”  He says reassuringly.

It's dark, no one can see anything.  I can do this...I can do this.  Echoes through Writer Lady's head.  She raises her head to face Monitor Man.  The top of her head meets the bottom of his chin.

“Ouch.”  He says just loud enough to let her know that something solid is in her immediate vicinity.

“Sorry.”  Writer Lady whispers.  I can't do this....I can't do this.   She closes her eyes.   Is that Monitor Man?   He smells so good.  Writer Lady leans in to get a better whiff and their lips meet.  I'm kissing him.   I can't believe I'm doing this. She thinks as she puts a little bit more enthusiasm into the kiss.

“Open your mouth, Silly Woman.”  Carp's voice can be heard ringing through her mind.

Go away Carp!

Seconds later Monitor Man's lips part.

Oh my goodness.  Oh yeah.  Writer Lady leans into Monitor Man because...something solid...because...difficult to stand up.

The kiss ends seconds before the lights come up.  Writer Lady and Monitor Man take turns turning away from the crowd in order to rearrange themselves.

Tinkletoes returns to the kitchen.   “Everything's all right.  A fuse went out but I have things situated.”

Writer Lady looks at Dobby as the ginger tabby follows Tinkletoes back into the kitchen.

“It's okay Mom.   We fixed it.”

“He's right. We fixed it.  I just replaced the burnt out breaker with a working one.”

Writer Lady nods, slowing her breathing as she realizes that no one knows what just happened.  Except for Monitor Man because he was there.  And Carp...because Carp somehow has the ability to muck around in people's minds again.  She looks around the room slowly, looking for signs that someone witnessed their kiss in the dark.   Tinkletoes reaches out and touches her on the arm, Writer Lady jumps.

“I fixed the lights but don't try to use the washer or dryer.  There's no power to them right now.   I'll fix it later.”

Writer Lady nods.

“You look real pretty.”  He continues.   “Would you mind skedaddling?  We're doing important political guy stuff right now.”

Get out now and come tell me everything.  Carp's demand rings through Writer Lady's head.

Writer Lady mentally rolls her eyes, nods and quietly retreats from behind the podium.

“Before you go, could you put some food out?”  Tinkletoes asks.

Writer Lady quietly waves good-bye and leaves the room.  Monitor Man waves back as Tinkletoes is checking his own appearance.

Tinkletoes leans in and whispers to Monitor Man, “You might want to check your hair.  You have a cowlick.  Unless you like playing with your hair or something.  Do you...?”

“Do I what?”  Monitor Man whispers back.

“Play with your hair a lot?  I hear you actor types do that stuff.”  Tinkletoes studies Monitor Man's spot of mussed hair.  “I bet I know what it is.  You got mobbed at the airport didn't you?  Some woman's been runnin' her fingers through your hair.”

Monitor Man adjusts his hair quickly.  “Yeah.  That must have been it.  There were so many women...”

“You probably can't keep track of all of them.”   Tinkletoes agrees and looks at Monitor Man more closely.   “Don't look now but I think one grabbed your butt too.”

Carp corners Writer Lady the moment she returns to her bedroom to change.

“You are so bad.”  Carp says.   “You never told me what a wild woman you could be.”

“What are you talking about?”  Writer Lady asks, pulling off her shoes and pulling her jeans back on under the skirt of the British flag dress.  “I just kissed him.  By accident.   He was the one who...”

Carp shakes his head.

Writer Lady looks at Carp.  “What?”

“Don't play innocent.  I was in your head.   I know where your hands were missy.”

Writer Lady blushes.

“Are you going to tell me that was an accident too?”  Carp asks.

“I never know what to do with my hands?”

“I'll forget that I know anything on one condition.”  Carp says.  “Details.  Spill.”

“Who has the next question?”   Tinkletoes asks.

Several pixies raise their hands.

Tinkletoes picks one in the third row.  “Okay you.”

“I have a question for Monitor Man.  How long have you and Writer Lady been seeing each other?”

“That's easy.”  Tinkletoes says.  “They haven't.”

Tinkletoes looks at Monitor Man.   “You haven't been seeing Writer Lady.  I would know.”

“You're right.  We have not been seeing each other.”

“Next question.”  Tinkletoes calls, choosing another pixie.

“How long have you two been texting?”

Monitor Man answers, “We haven't.”

“That's enough with the personal questions.  We are running for office.  Who has a political question?”   Tinkletoes asks.

A pixie in the back row raises her hand.  “I have a comment.”   She squeaks. “That was one heck of a kiss for two people who aren't seeing each other.  Maybe you should ask her out.”

A pixie in the front row giggles and the kitchen fills with the chatter of pixies agreeing and adding comments of their own.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”  Monitor Man says.

“You don't remember being kissed like that?  It was dark but I thought humans had better senses than that.”  The pixie in the back comments.   “We saw everything.”

“Are you sure no one knows what happened?”  Writer Lady asks.

Carp shakes his head.   “No one saw a thing.”

“Pixies are magical creatures.”

“They only see movement.”  Carp reassures her.

“But can they see in the dark?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Our eyes are far superior to yours.  Of course we can see in the dark.”   A pixie answers Monitor Man's question.

“So how well can you see?  It's just shapes...outlines.”  Monitor Man says prompting the pixie to agree.

TP pops in between Monitor Man and Tinkletoes' heads.  The two candidates are standing side by side.  Best buds.  Political brothers in arms.  “They see in the dark like a human does with night vision goggles.”

“That's pretty good.”  Monitor Man says.

“You can't hide anything from a pixie.  Silly human.”  TP says.