Monica used to live in an abandoned house high upon the highest hill in her town. She lived there because one day her parents and brothers and sisters went out for lunch, forgetting that Monica was still playing with her dolls in the attic, without the poor little girl. Fortunately for her, as it turns out, her entire family was killed by cyborg ninja monkeys that day, leaving not one to come home and let her know what happened. She also had no other family of which to speak.
Poor Monica!
Little Monica lived in this house for many years, never venturing into the outside world for anything. She slowly went completely insane and imagined her house full of life and people and fabulous talking animals and plants. It was like a twisted wonderland for a sad, lonely little girl. Over time, she developed a special friendship with a giant walking carrot that she called Mr. Nail. Monica and Mr. Nail used to play all the time in the gardens that surrounded the house and in the woods and the creek and in the sometimes empty halls of the large house on the top of the highest hill in her town.
One day, like many other days, Monica and Mr. Nail were playing in the area still full of gym equipment that her parents had used for a work-out room. They were playing hide and seek. Monica, still small and child like though she was nearly 16 years old, was hiding under the bench press. Mr. Nail, who was always fooled by the bench press, was having a tremendous time finding her! I guess giant walking carrots just don't understand working out!
Monica sat under the bench press while Mr. Nail looked frantically around the room trying to find her. She almost won but she started giggling when she saw Mr. Nail slip and fall on a dumbbell that had been left on the floor from the last time Cranky the weight lifting ball of Apple Pie Filling had been working out. Monica climbed out from under the bench press and said, "Oh, Mr. Nail. You're so funny! I was hiding under the bench press again!"
But Mr. Nail didn't answer.
"Mr. Nail?" said Monica in a slightly panicked tone. "Mr. Nail? Are you ok, Mr. Nail?" Monica bent down and shook Mr. Nail, but he didn't move. "Mr. Nail! Mr. Nail!" What was she going to do?! Little Monica shook Mr. Nail again, this time grabbing his head where a carrot might have a face. As she laid him back down on the floor, she noticed that her hand was covered in butterscotch pudding.
"Oh no! Mr. Nail is bleeding! I need to help him!"
With amazing speed, Monica ran down the hall in search of help. Who can help me?, she thought. I know! The Band-Aid gang! They're helpful little guys! And so she ran off toward the bathroom where she knew the Band-Aid Gang might be found. When she got there she ran in and yanked open the medicine cabinet, yelling "Oh Band-Aid Gang! I need..." but they weren't there. Where else could they be?!, she wondered. Dismayed she stopped for a moment and looked into the mirror where Fairbanks, the floating decapitated head of Teddy Roosevelt, lived.
"Fairbanks! Where did the Band-Aid Gang go?" she asked the mirror's denizen.
"Oh golly! I think they be on the rooftop or maybe the pooltop or maybe they've gone to the grocery store to buy gin! Those boys do love their gin! I have no body!" Fairbanks replied.
"That's so many places! How will I find them before Mr. Nail dies?"
"Mr. Nail is in trouble? Well this certainly is a pickle, isn't it? Whatever will we do?" and Fairbanks started doing the mid-air flips he was prone to doing while lost in thought. "Have you checked the cellar?"
"No! You're always trying to get me to check the cellar! That's where the zombies live! They would eat me, Fairbanks!"
"The zombies are nice! I promise you. Would I try and hurt you, my only friend? Why, if I still had my body and the zombie weren't holding it for ransom, I could help you look, but, I don't. They have it." Fairbanks signed the sigh of a man who misses the sensation of stretching his fingers and wiggling his toes.
Monica, as clever as ever, had an idea. A wondrous idea! "I'll be right back, Fairbanks!"
As she left the room, he called out after her, "Are you sure you won't check the cellar?! The zombies are very nice! They, uh, don't eat little girls!" but Monica didn't hear him for she was much too far away. She was running with all her might to the chicken coops out in the backyard. She knew who might be able to help her there. As she got there, she saw just who she was looking for. He was feeding the chickens. The chicken coop keeper was one of her favorite friends like Mr. Nail. She liked him especially because he had one green eye and one brown eye. So strange!
"David Bowie, Mr. Nail has been hurt, can you help me?" she pleaded with the gaunt man.
"I'm an alligator," he replied to her.
"Oh, I'm so glad you will! What should we do?"
"I'm a mama-papa coming for you."
"I don't understand how that will help Mr. Nail!"
"I'm the space invader, I'll be a rock n' rollin' bitch for you."
"Great! I'll help you catch one!" David Bowie and Monica climbed into the chicken coop carefully so they didn't scare any of the chickens. "Which one, David Bowie?" Monica queried.
"Keep your mouth shut, you're squawking like a pink monkey bird and I'm busting up my brains for the words."
"Ok, David Bowie. I'll shush." she whispered.
"Keep your 'lectric eye on me babe, put your ray gun to my head. Press your space face close to mine, love. Freak out in the mooage daydream oh yeah!" David Bowie said as he grasped a rather bold and feisty looking cock around its neck and shook it violently. The cock, squawking and pecking at David Bowie's leather gloves, fought dearly for survival but was, ultimately, no match for David Bowie's combination of tree stump and axe. Claws can't beat sharpened metal, silly bird!
"Ziggy really sang, screwed up eyes and screwed down hair-do," David Bowie said to Monica.
"I know, David Bowie! I'll show you where he is!" and they ran off back in the direction Monica originally came, banging on the walls and singing sea chanties with the fire of a drunken Irishman. Back at the bathroom, Monica yet again addressed the mirror. "Fairbanks! I've got a body for you!"
"You got my body?! But, you're still here! I mean, Oh boy, am I glad to see you're here! How did you get my body back from the zombies?"
"I didn't! David Bowie and I got you a substitute body for the time being so you can help us save Mr. Nail!"
"What? What body?"
"Show him, David Bowie!"
"Like some cat from Japan."
"A chicken's body?! What am I supposed to do with a chicken's body?!" Fairbanks exclaimed.
"No no, this is a cock's body! He was strong and fit and virile until David Bowie cut his head off. I swear! Just try it out! It will be fine!"
"Oh, alright. Put the thing into the mirror." Monica took the body from David Bowie and put it into the mirror for Fairbanks. He floated over to the body of the cock and attached himself to it effortlessly. He then jumped out of the mirror with renewed vitality and said, "Wow! *bock* this is great! *bock* I feel like a bottle of steel wool that has developed self-*bock*-awareness!"
"He could like 'em while smiling, he could leave 'em to hang. Came on so loaded, man."
"I agree completely, David Bowie! It is great to finally see you on this side of the mirror! Now, let's go look for the Band-Aid Gang."
"Have you checked out by the pool yet? *bock*" Fairbanks asked while pecking at the ground with his nose. Oh no, he almost lost his spectacles! Just kidding! Fun!
"No! I totally forgot about the pool! Let's all go look out there!" And so the two people and the chicken-beast went out to the yard where the pool was. Now, since Monica had been living by herself for so long without anyone coming over to care for her or the house, the pool was very dirty. Very, very dirty. So dirty, in fact, that its contents were more akin to those found in a greenhouse than in a normal swimming pool, but Monica loved it just the same. She always thought the plants that ate the blue-jays were nice because she didn't like the sound the blue-jays made. It made her sad when they ate hummingbirds though, but since they were so fast, the plant-eating birds almost never ate them.
"Oh no, they're not out here!"
"Poppycocks! *bock*"
"Well hung and snow white tan."
"What now?! Mr. Nail isn't doing well! I can feel it!"
"So where were the spiders while the flies tried to break our balls?!"
"I know, *bock*, I'm worried too, David Bowie."
Monica looked around the back of the yard for a sign of what she could possibly do. "Just the beer light to guide us," David Bowie exclaimed and pointed over the rustling in the bushes that lined the house. "So we bitched about his fans and should we crush his sweet hands?" he said and he walked stealthily up the rustling in the bushes. Crouching over the motion for a second, he deftly put his hand into the bush and pulled out Bernardo, the Ball of Lint Gnome, lifting him high into the air.
"Hey youse! Puts us down likes, right now!" Bernardo exclaimed while swinging his fists in the air. The silly little gnome couldn't see anything because his shirt was pulled over his head!
"Ground control to Major Tom. Ground control to Major Tom."
"Oy. 'Sat you, Bowie? Always knews youse was a daft wanker. Whats youse messing wif me for?"
"Take your protein pills and put your helmet on."
"Still talking bollocks, eh? Come on pufter, I'll gets youse good!"
"Ground control to Major Tom."
"I heards that part already! What the bloomin' hell is going on here?!"
"Bernardo, have you seen the Band-Aid Gang? We need them to help Mr. Nail who has hurt his head and is bleeding butterscotch pudding all over the place upstairs!"
"Ah, Monica, my sweets. Youse need ol' Bernado to help you likes?"
"If you could."
"Alrights, alrights, but shite mouth here has to put us down first!"
"Commencing countdown, engines on. Check ignition and may God's love be with you," and David Bowie put Bernardo down on the ground. While he was adjusting his shirt, Bernardo saw Fairbanks. Without taking his eyes of the horrid chicken-beast, Bernardo side-stepped over to Monica and tugged on the bottom of her skirt.
"Er, what's wrong wif chicken boy over there?"
"I resent that! *bock* I am a cock!" Fairbanks retorted.
"Oh! We got Fairbanks a nice new body and pulled him out of the mirror! Isn't that grand!" Monica clapped out of sheer joy. Wouldn't you? !!!
"Right, well, keep 'im away from ol' Bernardo here and we'll all be fine. Hear me chicken-boy?!" Fairbanks did not even respond, he just turned around and tried to scratch at something in the lawn that wasn't there. "Good! Anyways, I think I saws them boys over by the tool shed. By the cellar, youse knows? Theys all likes to go over there and smoke and talk to the zombies, like. Real decent."
"The cellar. *bock* That's where my body is," Fairbanks whispered to himself. No one else heard him. Sneaky.
As much as she did not want to, Monica and her companions all went over to the tool shed by the cellar door. I must help Mr. Nail, she thought. I hope he's ok. As soon as they arrived near the tool shed, Monica could see the Band-Aid Gang all hanging around, smoking their hand-rolled cigarettes. How a box full of band-aids rolled hand-rolled cigarettes was something that Monica always wondered but had long ago decided that it was better not to know.
But before she could open her mouth to call out to the Band-Aid Gang, the scary zombies in the dark cellar started banging on the underside of the door, lusting after the sweet, sweet smell of Monica's human flesh and virgin blood! Without any sort of delay, David Bowie put himself between Monica and the cellar door.
"Now Jimmy looking sweet though he dresses like a queen," he said in the direction of the doors as Bernardo walked over to the cellar door and rapped on it.
"Hey youse dead bastards! We's just tryin' to help old Nailsy! Youse leaves the girls alone, buggers!" and with that the banging stopped. Bernardo could be pretty intimidating at times, even if he was only 7 inches tall! He wiped his hands and walked back towards the group.
Monica broke into the stunned silence that followed Bernardo's show with, "Oh Band-Aid Gang, I need your help ever so much! You see, Mr. Nail's gone and hurt himself, and you were the only people I knew who could possibly help him! Will you please come with us up the hide-and-seek room? Please!" she pleaded with tears in her eyes.
"Hey baby, you know me and my boys would do anything for you," said Ouchy, the knee band-aid. He was the largest, so he was the leader.
"Yeah baby," said Scrape.
"Yeah baby," said Cut.
"Yeah baby," said Wound.
"You got it sugar," said Tito, the littlest of the gang, but the one with the biggest heart.
"Oh, you boys are great! I knew I could count on you! Now, just follow me and let's all help Mr. Nails!" she said and turned around back toward the house. She hadn't gotten more than four steps away from the tool shed when she hurt the cellar doors slam open and stopped in her tracks. Everyone slowly turned around and saw Fairbanks on the lip of the entrance to the cellar door. "Fairbanks! What are you doing? The zombies will get us all and the Easter Bunny won't be around for a while yet to seal those monsters back in there again!"
"I just *bock* want my body *bock* back. I'm so sick of being a floating headless Teddy Roosevelt that I could just scream *bock*. Do you know how hard it is to keep these glasses on without hands while I'm floating all over the place inside of a mirror? Really hard!"
"He can kick like a mule. It's a real mean team. We can love, Oh we can love."
"I'm scared too, David Bowie!"
"Aw damn b, zombies!"
"Zombies, son!"
"Zombies, son!"
"Zombies, son!"
"Shit bitch, muthafuckin' zombies!"
No one had noticed in the midst of Fairbanks' confession that the zombies had crept up the cellar stairs and were nearly out in the open. Monica screamed and David Bowie held her. The Band-Aid Gang all took a step back from the stench of rotting flesh. Bernardo rolled up his sleeves, walked over to Fairbanks, grabbed him and threw him into the zombies, causing them all to fall back into the cellar with a wet meat thud. "That'll serve you lot! Bugger off!" and he shut the cellar door and barred it from ever opening again with Ball of Lint Gnome magic. "All done, let's go saves the carrot, eh?" And they ran off.
Back in the hide-and-seek room, Mr. Nails was a horrid sight. By the time they got back, the whole floor was covered with butterscotch pudding and Mr. Nails had wilted to a limb, dry version of his former carroty self. Upon seeing him, Monica ran over to where he lay, only slipping once in the butterscotch pudding.
"Oh Mr. Carrot, please don't die! Please!!!" she wailed.
Ouchy moved over to where Mr. Nails lay however band-aids move themselves to check him out. It took only a moment before he said, "I'm sorry baby, this carrot's dead."
"He dead."
"He dead."
"He dead."
"Aw shit, baby, I'm sorry, but homeboy's kicked it."
"You've got your mother in a whirl. She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl."
"I thinks Bowie said it rights, like."
"Hey babe, your hair's alright. Hey babe, let's go out tonight."
And with David Bowie's final comment, they all ushered out of the room leaving Monica to weep over the dead, pudding stained body of her best friend. None of them ever saw her again. Sometimes, sometimes, on stormy nights you can still here wailing coming from that room and the wind carries a faint hint of butterscotch.
The moral of this story, boys and girls, is : Don't ever have friends!
The end!
Poor Monica!
Little Monica lived in this house for many years, never venturing into the outside world for anything. She slowly went completely insane and imagined her house full of life and people and fabulous talking animals and plants. It was like a twisted wonderland for a sad, lonely little girl. Over time, she developed a special friendship with a giant walking carrot that she called Mr. Nail. Monica and Mr. Nail used to play all the time in the gardens that surrounded the house and in the woods and the creek and in the sometimes empty halls of the large house on the top of the highest hill in her town.
One day, like many other days, Monica and Mr. Nail were playing in the area still full of gym equipment that her parents had used for a work-out room. They were playing hide and seek. Monica, still small and child like though she was nearly 16 years old, was hiding under the bench press. Mr. Nail, who was always fooled by the bench press, was having a tremendous time finding her! I guess giant walking carrots just don't understand working out!
Monica sat under the bench press while Mr. Nail looked frantically around the room trying to find her. She almost won but she started giggling when she saw Mr. Nail slip and fall on a dumbbell that had been left on the floor from the last time Cranky the weight lifting ball of Apple Pie Filling had been working out. Monica climbed out from under the bench press and said, "Oh, Mr. Nail. You're so funny! I was hiding under the bench press again!"
But Mr. Nail didn't answer.
"Mr. Nail?" said Monica in a slightly panicked tone. "Mr. Nail? Are you ok, Mr. Nail?" Monica bent down and shook Mr. Nail, but he didn't move. "Mr. Nail! Mr. Nail!" What was she going to do?! Little Monica shook Mr. Nail again, this time grabbing his head where a carrot might have a face. As she laid him back down on the floor, she noticed that her hand was covered in butterscotch pudding.
"Oh no! Mr. Nail is bleeding! I need to help him!"
With amazing speed, Monica ran down the hall in search of help. Who can help me?, she thought. I know! The Band-Aid gang! They're helpful little guys! And so she ran off toward the bathroom where she knew the Band-Aid Gang might be found. When she got there she ran in and yanked open the medicine cabinet, yelling "Oh Band-Aid Gang! I need..." but they weren't there. Where else could they be?!, she wondered. Dismayed she stopped for a moment and looked into the mirror where Fairbanks, the floating decapitated head of Teddy Roosevelt, lived.
"Fairbanks! Where did the Band-Aid Gang go?" she asked the mirror's denizen.
"Oh golly! I think they be on the rooftop or maybe the pooltop or maybe they've gone to the grocery store to buy gin! Those boys do love their gin! I have no body!" Fairbanks replied.
"That's so many places! How will I find them before Mr. Nail dies?"
"Mr. Nail is in trouble? Well this certainly is a pickle, isn't it? Whatever will we do?" and Fairbanks started doing the mid-air flips he was prone to doing while lost in thought. "Have you checked the cellar?"
"No! You're always trying to get me to check the cellar! That's where the zombies live! They would eat me, Fairbanks!"
"The zombies are nice! I promise you. Would I try and hurt you, my only friend? Why, if I still had my body and the zombie weren't holding it for ransom, I could help you look, but, I don't. They have it." Fairbanks signed the sigh of a man who misses the sensation of stretching his fingers and wiggling his toes.
Monica, as clever as ever, had an idea. A wondrous idea! "I'll be right back, Fairbanks!"
As she left the room, he called out after her, "Are you sure you won't check the cellar?! The zombies are very nice! They, uh, don't eat little girls!" but Monica didn't hear him for she was much too far away. She was running with all her might to the chicken coops out in the backyard. She knew who might be able to help her there. As she got there, she saw just who she was looking for. He was feeding the chickens. The chicken coop keeper was one of her favorite friends like Mr. Nail. She liked him especially because he had one green eye and one brown eye. So strange!
"David Bowie, Mr. Nail has been hurt, can you help me?" she pleaded with the gaunt man.
"I'm an alligator," he replied to her.
"Oh, I'm so glad you will! What should we do?"
"I'm a mama-papa coming for you."
"I don't understand how that will help Mr. Nail!"
"I'm the space invader, I'll be a rock n' rollin' bitch for you."
"Great! I'll help you catch one!" David Bowie and Monica climbed into the chicken coop carefully so they didn't scare any of the chickens. "Which one, David Bowie?" Monica queried.
"Keep your mouth shut, you're squawking like a pink monkey bird and I'm busting up my brains for the words."
"Ok, David Bowie. I'll shush." she whispered.
"Keep your 'lectric eye on me babe, put your ray gun to my head. Press your space face close to mine, love. Freak out in the mooage daydream oh yeah!" David Bowie said as he grasped a rather bold and feisty looking cock around its neck and shook it violently. The cock, squawking and pecking at David Bowie's leather gloves, fought dearly for survival but was, ultimately, no match for David Bowie's combination of tree stump and axe. Claws can't beat sharpened metal, silly bird!
"Ziggy really sang, screwed up eyes and screwed down hair-do," David Bowie said to Monica.
"I know, David Bowie! I'll show you where he is!" and they ran off back in the direction Monica originally came, banging on the walls and singing sea chanties with the fire of a drunken Irishman. Back at the bathroom, Monica yet again addressed the mirror. "Fairbanks! I've got a body for you!"
"You got my body?! But, you're still here! I mean, Oh boy, am I glad to see you're here! How did you get my body back from the zombies?"
"I didn't! David Bowie and I got you a substitute body for the time being so you can help us save Mr. Nail!"
"What? What body?"
"Show him, David Bowie!"
"Like some cat from Japan."
"A chicken's body?! What am I supposed to do with a chicken's body?!" Fairbanks exclaimed.
"No no, this is a cock's body! He was strong and fit and virile until David Bowie cut his head off. I swear! Just try it out! It will be fine!"
"Oh, alright. Put the thing into the mirror." Monica took the body from David Bowie and put it into the mirror for Fairbanks. He floated over to the body of the cock and attached himself to it effortlessly. He then jumped out of the mirror with renewed vitality and said, "Wow! *bock* this is great! *bock* I feel like a bottle of steel wool that has developed self-*bock*-awareness!"
"He could like 'em while smiling, he could leave 'em to hang. Came on so loaded, man."
"I agree completely, David Bowie! It is great to finally see you on this side of the mirror! Now, let's go look for the Band-Aid Gang."
"Have you checked out by the pool yet? *bock*" Fairbanks asked while pecking at the ground with his nose. Oh no, he almost lost his spectacles! Just kidding! Fun!
"No! I totally forgot about the pool! Let's all go look out there!" And so the two people and the chicken-beast went out to the yard where the pool was. Now, since Monica had been living by herself for so long without anyone coming over to care for her or the house, the pool was very dirty. Very, very dirty. So dirty, in fact, that its contents were more akin to those found in a greenhouse than in a normal swimming pool, but Monica loved it just the same. She always thought the plants that ate the blue-jays were nice because she didn't like the sound the blue-jays made. It made her sad when they ate hummingbirds though, but since they were so fast, the plant-eating birds almost never ate them.
"Oh no, they're not out here!"
"Poppycocks! *bock*"
"Well hung and snow white tan."
"What now?! Mr. Nail isn't doing well! I can feel it!"
"So where were the spiders while the flies tried to break our balls?!"
"I know, *bock*, I'm worried too, David Bowie."
Monica looked around the back of the yard for a sign of what she could possibly do. "Just the beer light to guide us," David Bowie exclaimed and pointed over the rustling in the bushes that lined the house. "So we bitched about his fans and should we crush his sweet hands?" he said and he walked stealthily up the rustling in the bushes. Crouching over the motion for a second, he deftly put his hand into the bush and pulled out Bernardo, the Ball of Lint Gnome, lifting him high into the air.
"Hey youse! Puts us down likes, right now!" Bernardo exclaimed while swinging his fists in the air. The silly little gnome couldn't see anything because his shirt was pulled over his head!
"Ground control to Major Tom. Ground control to Major Tom."
"Oy. 'Sat you, Bowie? Always knews youse was a daft wanker. Whats youse messing wif me for?"
"Take your protein pills and put your helmet on."
"Still talking bollocks, eh? Come on pufter, I'll gets youse good!"
"Ground control to Major Tom."
"I heards that part already! What the bloomin' hell is going on here?!"
"Bernardo, have you seen the Band-Aid Gang? We need them to help Mr. Nail who has hurt his head and is bleeding butterscotch pudding all over the place upstairs!"
"Ah, Monica, my sweets. Youse need ol' Bernado to help you likes?"
"If you could."
"Alrights, alrights, but shite mouth here has to put us down first!"
"Commencing countdown, engines on. Check ignition and may God's love be with you," and David Bowie put Bernardo down on the ground. While he was adjusting his shirt, Bernardo saw Fairbanks. Without taking his eyes of the horrid chicken-beast, Bernardo side-stepped over to Monica and tugged on the bottom of her skirt.
"Er, what's wrong wif chicken boy over there?"
"I resent that! *bock* I am a cock!" Fairbanks retorted.
"Oh! We got Fairbanks a nice new body and pulled him out of the mirror! Isn't that grand!" Monica clapped out of sheer joy. Wouldn't you? !!!
"Right, well, keep 'im away from ol' Bernardo here and we'll all be fine. Hear me chicken-boy?!" Fairbanks did not even respond, he just turned around and tried to scratch at something in the lawn that wasn't there. "Good! Anyways, I think I saws them boys over by the tool shed. By the cellar, youse knows? Theys all likes to go over there and smoke and talk to the zombies, like. Real decent."
"The cellar. *bock* That's where my body is," Fairbanks whispered to himself. No one else heard him. Sneaky.
As much as she did not want to, Monica and her companions all went over to the tool shed by the cellar door. I must help Mr. Nail, she thought. I hope he's ok. As soon as they arrived near the tool shed, Monica could see the Band-Aid Gang all hanging around, smoking their hand-rolled cigarettes. How a box full of band-aids rolled hand-rolled cigarettes was something that Monica always wondered but had long ago decided that it was better not to know.
But before she could open her mouth to call out to the Band-Aid Gang, the scary zombies in the dark cellar started banging on the underside of the door, lusting after the sweet, sweet smell of Monica's human flesh and virgin blood! Without any sort of delay, David Bowie put himself between Monica and the cellar door.
"Now Jimmy looking sweet though he dresses like a queen," he said in the direction of the doors as Bernardo walked over to the cellar door and rapped on it.
"Hey youse dead bastards! We's just tryin' to help old Nailsy! Youse leaves the girls alone, buggers!" and with that the banging stopped. Bernardo could be pretty intimidating at times, even if he was only 7 inches tall! He wiped his hands and walked back towards the group.
Monica broke into the stunned silence that followed Bernardo's show with, "Oh Band-Aid Gang, I need your help ever so much! You see, Mr. Nail's gone and hurt himself, and you were the only people I knew who could possibly help him! Will you please come with us up the hide-and-seek room? Please!" she pleaded with tears in her eyes.
"Hey baby, you know me and my boys would do anything for you," said Ouchy, the knee band-aid. He was the largest, so he was the leader.
"Yeah baby," said Scrape.
"Yeah baby," said Cut.
"Yeah baby," said Wound.
"You got it sugar," said Tito, the littlest of the gang, but the one with the biggest heart.
"Oh, you boys are great! I knew I could count on you! Now, just follow me and let's all help Mr. Nails!" she said and turned around back toward the house. She hadn't gotten more than four steps away from the tool shed when she hurt the cellar doors slam open and stopped in her tracks. Everyone slowly turned around and saw Fairbanks on the lip of the entrance to the cellar door. "Fairbanks! What are you doing? The zombies will get us all and the Easter Bunny won't be around for a while yet to seal those monsters back in there again!"
"I just *bock* want my body *bock* back. I'm so sick of being a floating headless Teddy Roosevelt that I could just scream *bock*. Do you know how hard it is to keep these glasses on without hands while I'm floating all over the place inside of a mirror? Really hard!"
"He can kick like a mule. It's a real mean team. We can love, Oh we can love."
"I'm scared too, David Bowie!"
"Aw damn b, zombies!"
"Zombies, son!"
"Zombies, son!"
"Zombies, son!"
"Shit bitch, muthafuckin' zombies!"
No one had noticed in the midst of Fairbanks' confession that the zombies had crept up the cellar stairs and were nearly out in the open. Monica screamed and David Bowie held her. The Band-Aid Gang all took a step back from the stench of rotting flesh. Bernardo rolled up his sleeves, walked over to Fairbanks, grabbed him and threw him into the zombies, causing them all to fall back into the cellar with a wet meat thud. "That'll serve you lot! Bugger off!" and he shut the cellar door and barred it from ever opening again with Ball of Lint Gnome magic. "All done, let's go saves the carrot, eh?" And they ran off.
Back in the hide-and-seek room, Mr. Nails was a horrid sight. By the time they got back, the whole floor was covered with butterscotch pudding and Mr. Nails had wilted to a limb, dry version of his former carroty self. Upon seeing him, Monica ran over to where he lay, only slipping once in the butterscotch pudding.
"Oh Mr. Carrot, please don't die! Please!!!" she wailed.
Ouchy moved over to where Mr. Nails lay however band-aids move themselves to check him out. It took only a moment before he said, "I'm sorry baby, this carrot's dead."
"He dead."
"He dead."
"He dead."
"Aw shit, baby, I'm sorry, but homeboy's kicked it."
"You've got your mother in a whirl. She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl."
"I thinks Bowie said it rights, like."
"Hey babe, your hair's alright. Hey babe, let's go out tonight."
And with David Bowie's final comment, they all ushered out of the room leaving Monica to weep over the dead, pudding stained body of her best friend. None of them ever saw her again. Sometimes, sometimes, on stormy nights you can still here wailing coming from that room and the wind carries a faint hint of butterscotch.
The moral of this story, boys and girls, is : Don't ever have friends!
The end!
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
Nice work. I liked it.
that's a crazy crazy story.