Having A Rotten Time; Wish You Were Here

Part 5

            Jer-rrrrrrrrrrrry!!!

            Jerry's mind split wide open as Stevie, his own personal four year old wake up call, mentally screeched him awake. He glanced at his alarm clock and groaned at the 4:34am glowing on its face.

            Jer-rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry!!!, came Stevie's voice in his head again.

            "What is it, Stevie?" he whined aloud, wanting to cry. He had, after all, just gotten in bed an hour ago.

            I wanna ask you somethin'!, said Stevie.

            Stevie, Jerry thought to him, your very life hangs on the importance of this question. Is this something that can wait until high noon or maybe late evening?

            I need you to fix my Pink Wanger doll for me!, Stevie said, ignoring the question. His insistence was proof enough that nothing could be more important to a child his age than anything related to Power Rangers. Pleeeeeeeeease?

            "Alright, alright, stop whining, you're killing my head!" Jerry wailed aloud. He closed his eyes and left himself drift into his subconscious where he found Stevie clutching a doll that, aside from a Pink Ranger costume, didn't remind him at all of Kimberly.

            "What is that?" Jerry asked, pointing to the doll.

            "It's my dumb ol' Powew Wanger doll," said Stevie, holding out the fist that he was squeezing the limp figure in and shaking it angrily. "But it's brokeded and Alan's not here to fix it an' I want a more better one! This one's not even the right color; it Zach's color!"

            Jerry took the "doll" in his own hands and almost dropped it as he realized this doll was actually alive. "Stevie, where'd you get this?" Jerry demanded.

            Stevie faltered. "I can't tell you," he mumbled, ducking his head down.

            "Stevie, listen to me," Jerry said, kneeling next to him. "You remember how Daina can make herself small?"

            "Yeah, 'cause she's a sprite lady," nodded Stevie.

            "And she looks kinda like a doll with wings, then, doesn't she?" Stevie agreed silently as Jerry added. "Well, this girl isn't a doll, she's a fairy or a brownie or something. And she's not broken, she looks almost dead."

            Stevie looked horrified. "I didn't mean to!" he wailed. "Alan said she was just a Powew Wanger Pwisoner doll!"

            "I know you didn't mean to, but she's hurt and we have to help her. What did you do to her to make her pass out?" he asked.

            Sobbing, told Jerry the whole story while Jerry attempted to heal the tiny girl. "An' then...an' then...she was not playin' wight, so I pickeded her up and yelleded at her to make her play good and she died!!!" he finally finished, throwing himself into Jerry's arms. "I didn't mean to kill the fairy girl, Jerry, honest I didn't."

            "It's okay, Stevie, just calm down," Jerry said, standing up with Stevie in one arm and the fairy/brownie in the other. "I just have to find out who this is. Can't be Daina 'cause she looks too young and she can't be Naomi or Robin, either."

            "She's not Joshua," offered Stevie, snuffling.

            "That only leaves Christine," said Jerry, with a frown. "But where are her wings?"

            "I had to hide them so Stevie would believe I was a doll," came the reply. Christine, sat up groggily and her wings appeared on her back.

            "Thank God, I thought you were gone!" said Jerry gasping.

            "Thanks for the sentiment," said Christine, some of her old sarcasm returning. She jumped off Jerry's hand and grew back to her normal height, then began to pull Jerry toward the door. "We've got to hurry! Alan's over there hurting my sister and we've gotta save her!"

            "Okay, okay, I'm coming! Stevie," he said, setting him down, "you stay here."

            "Noooooo!" Stevie wailed, "I wanna go with youuuuu!"

            "You can't go and that's it! It's too dangerous!"

            "Come on!" said Chris.

            "Well, could I maybe help you?" Stevie suggested.

            "You can help me by staying here," Jerry called back as he was dragged to the door by Christine. "I'll be back!"

 

 

            Robin stood laughing at Alan while he glared evilly at her. Naomi and I, now on a new whim of Alan's, were suspended together back to back over a steaming pit of lava in my room where my bed had been.

            "Remind me if and when this is over to thank you for creating me," Naomi said sarcastically to me.

            "Remind me if and when this is over to shoot myself for giving him that damn password," I replied.

            "If my gun was work-ing," Naomi growled, "I'dve shot you a long time ago." I rolled my eyes irritably as Robin finally got it together enough to speak.

            "You must be joking!" Robin gasped at Alan. "Me be a slave to you? You can't be serious!"

            "Well, I am, so shut up!" snapped Alan, still glaring at her.

            "How shall I put this so that a child of your limited intelligence can understand it?" she said thoughtfully. "Oh, yes, how about...'think again, asshole'." Robin's clipped Caustrian accent sounded awkward trying to manage my slang, but it was effective. Alan looked practically ready to explode.

            "I'll show you who's a child!" Alan yelled, losing his cool. He whirled around to the keyboard furiously and within seconds, Robin went from a 26 year old fairy woman to a 5 year old fairy child. Alan grabbed her up and held her at eye level. "You ready to talk business yet?" he demanded.

            In response, she calmly placed a finger on his right arm and let go a bolt of pain into Alan's body. He dropped her in agony, then staggered back to the desk chair as the now little Robin shrugged.

            "You see," she said in a bright child's voice, "no matter what you do with that silly machine, anything I am made to do will not be me doing it. Besides, I'm not afraid of death for any of us. It's happened before."

            "Uh, I'd just like to say that I have a wildly different opinion on the death subject," Naomi piped up.

            "Me, too," I agreed.

            Alan glared at us, then grabbed Robin by the arm. "Guess I'll just have to teach you to suffer for me," he growled. He turned to the computer to type for a moment, then turned her over on his lap and, much to our amusement, began spanking Robin. He was probably the only person in the room who expected her to be upset. She didn seemed a little put out to me, but not for the reasons Alan thought she was.

            This has to be the most ridiculous thing I've ever had to experience for you, Daina, she thought to me and Naomi. I certainly hope you're using this time wisely.

            Sort of, I thought back to her. He's not hurting you, is he?

            Use your brain, Dee. Robin doesn't feel pain, she gives it, remember?, Naomi snapped. As if to show this to be fact, Robin leaned up a little to smile wanly at Naomi and I.

            Actually, he's taken away my power to transfer pain, Robin thought back. However, I've suffered worse.

            Okay, just keep him away from that computer for a couple of minutes, I replied.

            She twisted her head around to frown condescendingly at him, then began to wail as if she were seriously being hurt. Okay, now what?, I mentally asked Naomi.

            That's your job to figure out, she replied. Meanwhile, I'm gonna give you a few more minutes of free thought, so you better make 'em count. I can only do this to him for about 10 minutes before I'm gonna want to throw up on him.

            Do what?, I asked, but Naomi was already going into her act.

            "Hey, Alan?" she said in a voice I'd never heard her use before. It reminded me of a warm maple syrup.

            "What?" he said, looking up from pounding Robin's behind.

            "I was just thinking," she said, with a luxurious pause, "that I might want to work for you after all."

            A warm, yet poisoned maple syrup, I thought.

            "Oh, really?" he said, he said, the look on his face changing. I only got to see him for a minute, because she twisted slightly so that the rope holding us began to turn us in a slow circle.

            "Uh-huh," she said when she was facing him. From her tone, I could tell she was practically dripping with sex appeal. "How about you let me down and I'll see if I can't, uh...get you up?"

            I heard Alan's chair lean back as he considered the possibility. He pushed Robin off his lap, then as I slowly rotated back in his direction, I watched him type without even looking at the keyboard. Suddenly, Naomi was straddling his lap and the chair squeaked even further back.

            "Wise choice," she drawled, slipping her fingers around the back of his neck and up into his hair. She pulled him forward and kissed him passionately and I thought I'd die. This was the same woman I'd been tied up with? The one who wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire who was now bumping and grinding this guy like a pro?

            Alan must've thought this, too, because he suddenly pushed her away. "Uh, wait a minute," he said. "This is good, but not good enough. You're gonna have to prove your loyalty."

            "What do you think I'm doing?" she chuckled in the same sultry tone, leaning to kiss him again.

            "I mean," he said, pointing at me, "do something to her. Don't kill her, just make her suffer."

            Naomi groaned, then pointed at me. Within seconds, I was back on my desk in a larger jar than before.

            "I've already done that one," Alan said.

            "Yeah, but not without holes in the top," Naomi smiled. I looked up and found she was right. I probably had a good 15 minutes worth of air, if that. "Besides, she hates being small." She looked down at Alan, then smiled, ran a finger down his chest and said, "Apparently, you don't have any small problems."

            "Just big ones, baby," said Alan, pulling her down to him again. Robin looked up at me and rolled her eyes and I did the same.

            What I needed right now was a plan, however. I needed something that could beat my own computer. But there wasn't anything like that, I knew. The computer was my subconcious and had been for some time. It was amazing how technology has ruined my life, I thought. Why couldn't I have stuck with paper and pen?

            My mind almost shook with the magnitude of what I was saying. Paper and pen! My subconscious notebook! Prior to having my computer in my head, I had used a neverending notebook and my favorite pen. If I could just remember where I put it...

            Robin!, I thought, I need your help. I have to find the magic notebook.

            The what???, she asked me.

            I know it sounds hokey, but technically, it is a magic notebook, I replied excitedly. You remember, the notebook I used to write all the stories in? You found it and that was when I decided to get a computer...

            Stop babbling, she thought to me. I already know what you're talking about.

            Alright, so what did I do with it?

            Robin looked briefly at me, then at Naomi and Alan, who were gasping on the floor now, oblivious to us both. She casually stood up, then opened my bottom left hand drawer and pulled out a spiral notebook with a pen stuck down in its wire. She opened my jar and handed the notebook to me, which, as it had done when I was a kid, shrunk down to accomodate me. I opened the notebook up and flipped to a blank page.

            Are we gettin' busy?, Naomi asked me.

            I was about to ask you the same thing, said I sarcastically. I've got the notebook.

            The wha...wait a minute...oh, Bios... A quick wave of excitement came to me from her just before she stopped talking to me. I tried to look where Naomi was, but they were halfway under the desk now. I looked up at Robin with a questioning frown.

            "They're not...?" I began, gesturing toward the floor.

            "They are," she confirmed. I shuddered. Either Naomi was enjoying this, or she was an incredible actress. "Stop thinking about her and get busy!" Robin added.

            I took her advice and began to nibble on the pen thoughtfully. I couldn't directly contradict my computer, since the two were really the same. For all I knew, it could be such a major conflict that my whole subconscious might blow up. I could, however, alter Alan's story slightly. "Move me by the computer," I directed to Robin. She slid the jar in front of the screen and I began to read.

            I was surprised to notice that although my thoughts were playing out on the screen, the moment my notebook had come into my possession, any thoughts of it had been erased from the computer's memory. The sentences were still there, but any mention of the notebook was gone. "Scroll up," I told Robin. "I need to know where Christine is."

            "What about them?" said Robin, pointing to Alan and Naomi.

            "If any of the stories about Naomi's sexual prowess are true, they should be at it for a while," I said. "Scroll."

Previous           Next
Back To DTJ Stories
Home