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Melpomene (melpomene@graffiti.net).
Dedication: To Jenny, who wanted Wesley in a shitty job. This is for riding shotgun and reading the map. This is for letting me laugh when we get lost anyway. Happy Birthday, hon.
Twisted in Faux Fur
The suit was nasty, as nasty as the nine year olds who had screamed gleefully when they'd managed to topple him over and tangle him in cello tape before stuffing him into this cramped, little hellhole that is the Henderson's closet. The suit smelled, and not only of his own sweat. He tried his best not to think about the way his face pressed against the inside of its absurd, heavy, airless teddy bear head. Or his body, bent at strange angles, sweltering, wrapped up so very tightly. [In dreams it's only the face.] Thinking about it had him on the verge of hyperventilating. [The smell. Think about the smell.] Which was especially bad because it had rained in the morning and he'd had to wear the suit damp all day. And now he was trapped in the fucking thing. He decided that this was officially his Worst Day Ever. A title previously held by the terrifying Hen's Night Engagement. At which he was attacked by a mob of angry, drunken women when he'd refused to do a striptease for the bride to be. His suit had been ripped and hands had insinuated themselves into sweaty places before he'd managed to get free. This was much worse. He'd been lying in this damned closet for god only knew how long. His mouth was dry, his bladder full. He felt numb from the lack of movement and light-headed from the lack of oxygen. [Drowning in foam and stuffing.] [Could life really be this ridiculous?] He maliciously wished trauma on the children who had done this to him. They had hated him for not being whatever it is that they wanted: A Pikachu doll, The Powerpuff Girls DVD, The latest *Nsync CD... [Hate to disappoint] He fantasized about their devastated little faces watching as his dead body twisted in faux fur fell out into their neat, bright hallway. A rictus grin. [Happy Birthday little girl!] He immediately felt disgusted with himself for thinking these things, and only a small part of this had to do with the door opening to the gasping of a horrified woman. Was her first thought [Pervert]? He suspects so. He could see it in her agitated, expectant eyes. She took off the head. "Oh god, I'm so sorry about this. I hope you didn't miss any of your appointments." She kept talking as she cut through the tape "You know how kids can be" she tried not to make holes in the suit "I bet this sort of thing happens to you a lot." She laughed. Miss "Let's see if he'll wet himself" Henderson stood sheepishly by the door leading into the kitchen. He looked at her, his eyes managed to meet and hold hers. "Happy Birthday." end.
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