Posting to watch. Also, I may try my hand at this (in pieces, because I don't have the time to write it all at once while I'm also working on code):
I can remember that morning clearly: there was almost no sunlight. The air was stale and smelt faintly of vomit and popcorn. The temperature was enough to addle my brain and make me wonder if I wasn't just hallucinating the fact that there was a giant carrot dangling in front of my face.
Unfortunately, I wasn't. This was a day like almost any other at Slappy Land, actually. In reality it was a gorgeous example of spring at its finest, with a refreshing breeze gently caressing the couples and families filtering by me on the clean, neatly swept concrete path. Of course, I couldn't feel that breeze due to the fifty pound mass of polyester faux-fur and plastic (complete with the aforementioned dangling-carrot-on-stick prop attached to my head) that was weighing me down. Past the happily-squinting eye slits, I could just barely make out the bright disc of the sun rising into the sky. I sighed, then immediately regretted doing so as my own hot breath forced more noxious odors from within the hellish costume up my nostrils.
"SLAPPY!"
I felt something slam into my left leg, and nearly went over sideways. I wasn't in the best shape, but I estimated that it might have been possible for me to punt the toddler over the nearby guard-rail and into the lazy river a few feet away. Somehow, I resisted the urge and bent down to squat at eye-level with the redheaded runt.
"How ya doin', kid?" The voice was classic Slappy - a wiseguy-ish New York grumble that had taken me about a week to bring to perfection. I flipped a little switch nestled inside my right paw-glove and two red lights strapped to my head flickered on, creating an eerie devilish glow inside of the helmet where Slappy's eyes should have been.
"AHHHHHHH!"
I chuckled, flipping the switch again. The two laser pen-lights had been a good investment.
"Calvin!" An iron-hard grip clamped on to my right arm, somehow managing to inflict pain through the multiple layers of fluff and padding. I was yanked to the side and into a small concessions stand that hadn't opened yet.
"Ow - hey, Ally. Woah, did you just go tanning? You look even hotter than usua--"
My head began to jerk around violently as small rock-like fists beat it back and forth from one side to the other.
"I JUST got promoted to manager, and if you mess my job up by making some little snotrag crap himself in front of his parents, I swear I'll shove that stupid carrot RIGHT up your-"
"I GET IT! Jeez, cool down. It was just a joke," I snapped, tumbling over a milk crate and landing flat on my butt on the hard cement. Predictably, the ass of my rabbit suit had absolutely no padding, so I spent the next few seconds trying to determine whether I'd just broken my tailbone or not.
Afraid that I should have spent the time maneuvering into a more defensible position instead, I looked up and tried to assess the situation. There was a four-foot-something, skinny brunette standing a few feet in front of me. She was snub-nosed in a cute way - though not really my type. I preferred girls who didn't actively try to kill me on a regular basis. It didn't help that she was a something-belt in Judo and had once demonstrated her knowledge of how to hurl a full-grown man off of a moving amusement park ride on me.
"I've had it up to HERE with your jokes, you got that?" She put her hand slightly above her forehead. "One more stupid comment from you, and I'll-"
"Sorry, up to where? My kneecaps? I'm afraid I didn't see-"
===========================
"Calvin broke the table in Concession Hut C in half... with his head," Jamal repeated for the third time, scratching his temple a bit and staring at my badly mutilated costume in obvious confusion. Jamal was almost as tall as me, olive-skinned, and good-looking. He was the son of Slap-Happy Cartoon Co.'s CEO, and he had the entitlement complex to go along with the description. He also had a habit of sitting on sharp or sticky objects which somehow ended up in his desk chair regularly, definitely not because I put them there. Jamal rubbed his butt, and I smiled past my noticeably enlarged lips.
"Yup. The dumbass tripped right over me and landed face-first on the table. Guess it must be because I'm so short," Ally explained, patting my shoulder gently to illustrate her sympathy.
"Right. Well, make sure you get that looked at, Calvin. Do you need to go home?"
"Nah, boss. I think I'll be fine." I lifted my arm a bit and rotated the head of my costume around so that the bloodstains on the muzzle weren't as obvious, then clamped it back under my elbow. I was a pragmatist. Kids would love this.
"I really admire your work ethic, Calvin. Really, you're a go-getter!" Jamal smiled at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what I believed to be a wisp of smoke curling out of Ally's nostrils. "Just don't overdo it. I'll see you two tomorrow."
"Sure thing, Jamal," I said from over my shoulder. I'd already turned to slip out - I wanted to make sure I got a chance to put my modified costume to use while I still resembled Frank the Rabbit.
"Oh, Calvin - one last thing. We're putting together a special parade in two weeks. Slappy will be featured as the drum major of the Slappy Land Band. I'm going to fill Ally in on all the details. You two will be working closely together for the next couple of weeks to get everything ironed out." Shit.
I smiled bloodily and nodded. Ally was cracking each knuckle one at a time.
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Topic: The Bay 12 Writer's Contest (Read 2533 times)