Friday, August 24, 2012

MANIC KIN

MANIC KIN

     "The City of Townsville!."

     The man in Artystuff.com's shipping department was filling an order written in crayon on a sheet of paper.

     "It looks like a little girl wants an artist's mannikin...'

     He walked past rows of shelves, finally finding where the artists' mannikins were kept. He bent to grasp one, but the one next to it leapt forward and landed on the floor with a plop.

     "Huh?... I guess this box really wants to go somewhere fast. Well, okay, it's courier time for you, pal."

     A week later -- 

     A courier was carrying a package to the Utoniums' front door.

     "It's here! It's here! It's here!".  Bubbles was jumping up and down in delight.

     The Professor signed for the package and handed it to Bubbles.

     "Bubbles, I'm proud of you! You're one step closer to becoming a professional artist!"

     "Thanks, Professor!". She flew to her bedroom with the package.

     Blossom and Buttercup had to dodge flying paper and cardboard as Bubbles ripped the package open. At last she was holding the figure in her hands.

     "It's mine! It's mine! It's all mine!'

    "Pretty slick!", Buttercup had to admit.

     "Um, if you two don't mind, I'd like a little solitude as I make my drawing..."

     "Oh, sure...", said Blossom.

     "Yeah, we'll just go... scrub the toilet or something", added Buttercup. 

     They left.

     Bubbles giggled. She floated over to the dresser drawers and set up the figure.

     "Hmmm... let's see... I think I'll make it Ms. Keane writing on the chalk board..."

      She posed the figure's right arm. Then she picked up a pad of paper and her box of crayons and floated over to the bed. She sat down.

     "Huh?"

     Both of the figure's arms were hanging down.

     "I could have sworn..."

     She floated back to the figure and reset the arm.

     "There!"

     She floated back to the bed, picked up the pad, and turned to the figure with a big smile on her face. She opened her eyes -- and saw that both of the figure's arms were hanging down. 

     "Hey, there's something mighty peculiar going on..."

     She floated up to the figure and gave it an accusing glare.

     "What's your game? I paid a lot of my allowance to get you, why don't you behave?"

     She posed the arm, but it immediately dropped down. 

    "I smell Him behind this..."

     She gave the figure a few gentle shakes. Now its hands were in front of its face as if crying or afraid.

     "Sigh... okay, if it's a crying drawing Him wants, it's a crying drawing Him gets..."

     She floated over to the bed, sat down, and started drawing.

     She tried to force a smile, but her mouth sagged. She labored at the drawing, scrutinized it, resumed drawing. She stopped to look at the crayon in her hand, felt somehow that she should feel guilty for doing what she was doing, but continued. These were the very same hands that had made so many lovely drawings... and her eyes were the same eyes that had seen so many beautiful things... The figure on her paper looked heartbroken... hopeless. She kept drawing, trying to cheer up the unhappy figure, but the drawing kept getting darker and darker...

     Blossom and Buttercup were in the kitchen enjoying marmalade sandwiches. Bubbles floated in. Her face was ghastly, gaping, frozen.

     "Good heavens, Bubbles!", gasped Blossom. 

     "Let me make you a sandwich," offered Buttercup.

     Blossom poured her a glass of orange juice.

     "This'll pick you up."

     Bubbles spoke weakly, "The horror, the horror..."

     Blossom asked, "What on earth went on in there?"

     Bubbles answered, "My mannikin... Him did something to my pretty little mannikin... I can't make happy drawings with it."

     "Aw, throw the darn thing away", commented Buttercup, rather rudely.

     "But it's mine... I love it... I can't let Him spoil it."

     "Is there anything we can do to help?", asked Blossom.

     "I know one thing," said Buttercup, "Put that thing in the basement, so we can sleep in privacy."

     Bubbles agreed.

     Days passed and Bubbles left the mannikin in the basement. She started to cheer up, although one time Ms. Keane said, "Okay, class, it's time to make a drawing," and Bubbles leapt up in fright and punched a hole in the ceiling.

     She visited Townsville Art Museum and tried to see how artists dealt with unhappy subjects. It seemed that artists often chose shocking or disturbing subjects, but she didn't really see anything that could be called unhappy.

     Finally the Professor told Bubbles that maybe Him could make the mannikin unhappy, but it was still Bubbles who chose who the mannikin was supposed to represent. Why not, he said, make a drawing of -- Him.

     So Bubbles set about making a drawing of the evillest of evils -- Him. She made sure she had plenty of black and red crayons, and set about with a passion.

     Outside the bedroom Blossom and Buttercup paced back and forth like expectant fathers. Hours passed. The Professor brought them some pizza he had ordered. At last a happy Bubbles emerged, triumphant.

     "Good grief, Bubbles!", exclaimed Blossom.

     "That drawing is almost... well, it's almost gag-provoking! It's horrible! Him looks utterly wretched!", said Buttercup.

     Then there came a horrible wailing sound like an air raid siren. A horrified Him appeared. 

     "You can't do that to me! I'm an immortal being, I deserve respect!"

     "Do you want the drawing?", asked Bubbles.

     "Only so I can hide it!"

     "Very well, it's yours -- if you promise to undo the spell you put on my mannikin!"

     "Oh, very well! The spell's undone."

     "Here's your drawing."

     Him pouted a huge pout. "I don't really look like that, do I?"

     "Ask Mr. Quackers", said a confident Bubbles.

     Him looked uncertain. He vanished.

    "All right , Bubbles!", shouted her sisters.

     The Girls shared happy smiles. Somehow the mannikin seemed to be smiling too.

The End





    


Wednesday, August 22, 2012

TUNNEL OF LOVE




      "The City of Townsville! It's happening right here in the City of Townsville!", said Blossom in disbelief.

     What's happening?", asked Buttercup.

     "A satellite radio station -- they're broadcasting all sorts of nonsense -- threatening to overthrow man and take over the world!"

    "Huh? Who?", asked Buttercup.

     Bubbles explained sadly, "Rabbits. There's a bunch of rogue bunnies living under our  house. The Professor's Chemical X got to them and now they're superintelligent and asking the animals of the world to overthrow mankind."

     "Apparently Mojo is there biggest fan", added Blossom.

     Sure enough, Mojo was following their program as he sliced up fish and vegetables.

     "Man was never more than a passing fad," shouted a lady rabbit. "His time has passed, and now it's time for the intelligent animals of this planet to dethrone him!"

     "Right on, sister rabbit," answered Mojo. "This is what I have been saying all along, from the very start, for this is exactly what the wisdom of Mojo Jojo sees to be the truth that is correct."

     Blossom looked worried. "I think it's time we paid them a visit..."

     There were numerous rabbit tunnels under the Utonium home. The Girls broke their way down into one of them. The tunnel was dark, with dim lights glowing here and there, joined by a wire. Everything was in a deep shade of purple.

     "It's almost kind of pretty..."' said Bubbles.

     A rabbit on his hind legs ran past silently, paying them no attention. The Girls floated along, and things started  to get lighter. Finally they entered a large well-lit chamber. In the center, a very intense rabbit queen sat on a wooden throne that her subjects had carved with their teeth.The walls seemed to glow with bright jewels, but on closer inspection the jewels turned out to be small shiny things that people had discarded.

     "So, I see the Powerpuff Girls have come to pay their respects to their Queen. It's about time, if you ask me.", snarled the Queen.

     "Whatcha talking about, harebrain?", snapped Buttercup.

     "Do you have a name?", asked Bubbles.

     "I am the supreme and ultimate monarch of the planet and the universe! I am your queen and emperor. I am Phyllis the First, the one and only, haw haw haw.!"

     "Crackpot...", muttered Buttercup.

     "You're a public menace!", said Blossom, scoldingly. "You threaten the human race, you seek chaos and rebellion... you ought to be locked away!"

     Some of the rabbits near the Queen approached the Girls with warning looks on their faces.

     "It's all an act, dearie! All of life is nothing but an act."

     "Bunnies should be nice! Bunnies should be friendly and want to hug you!", wept Bubbles.

     "Aw, does the little girl want a hug...? Listen, kid, all I ever got from people is buckshot in my behind! I've got so much buckshot in my butt, I set off the metal detectors in airports. I've got so much buckshot in me, when I'm cremated, I won't be ashes, I'll be a blob of solder. I've got so much buckshot in me, I have to chase away men who want to use my butt as a lead mine, haw haw haw!"

     "You've got to stop threatening the human race," demanded Blossom.

     "Aw, you're no fun..."

     "There's no room on this planet for warmongerers. If you stir the fires of discontent, you're only going to get burned. He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword."

     "You're quite the little chatterbox, aren't you?"

     "It's all up to you. We're the Powerpuff Girls. We're stronger than you. There's no reason you can't live a long and happy life here if you agree to behave yourselves."

     "I won't give up my crown."

     "Do you  give your word that you'll become a peaceful citizen of the world?"

     "Oh, very well, I'll be good..."

     "Girls, I think this is an important moment in the history of Powerpuff diplomacy!", boasted Blossom.

     The Girls floated back up to the Professor's basement lab. They were surprised to find that for once the Professor was angry that they'd blasted a hole in the  house. It took them some time to fill in the hole with cement and smooth it over. They looked at the Professor with self-conscious smiles and were glad when he approved. 

     Cleaned off, they floated to their bedroom and went to bed. They debated for a while about the rabbits, but decided that these were rabbits who had mended their ways. 


     The Girls went to sleep.

     Then --

    In the middle of the night --

     BUMP!

     The girls awoke, startled.

      "What on earth was that?", asked Buttercup.

      Blossom stammered, "Those... those... those blasted biofreak bunnies just detonated a test nuclear warhead in the earth's mantle under our home!"

     Five minutes later Blossom was at the Professor's time machine setting dials. Then she and Buttercup flew off.

     Bubbles waited.

     She waited.

     She looked down, wondered if her fingernails needed cutting, then remembered Powerpuff Girls don't have fingernails. She looked up. She blinked.

     Then she heard it. 

     The sound of hundreds of little frightened rabbit feet pattering frantically towards the time machine. A great line of rabbits fled through the portal of the Professor's time machine. Queen Phyllis stopped, turned to glare at an angry approaching Blossom, but lost her nerve and jumped into the portal. Blossom flew up and shut down the machine.

     "I hope you enjoy your new home, Queen Phyllis!", mocked Blossom.

     Three stone age Powerpuff Girls were floating along in their savage world. Bubbles was chewing on a ragged bone, but could find no meat. The Girls floated around a large boulder, and found themselves face to face with a community of rabbits. Buttercup's eyes lit up. She approached Queen Phyllis, drool dripping down from her cave man teeth.

     "Oh goody," said Queen Phyllis, "I suppose I should call you Fang..."

The End

      

 

     




Powerpuff Girls fanfiction, also posted at fanfiction.net as rayb07

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From a part of the world that produced Donald Sutherland. Solemn. Victorian. A Bob Newhart world with a smug minority and a rate of childhood poverty matched only by Toronto. I survived. Sort of.