Wednesday, March 22, 2006

   When Chibis Attack! Part 31
Previous silliness archived here.

Snow White does not belong to me... it belongs to the Brothers Grimm, and the people they originally stole it from. I am not responsible for the Macarena. Thank God. And I didn't invent Pictionary, or authorize any pictures that Gojyo may have drawn.

In other words, I don't own it, and it's not my fault.

Part 31: In Which There is a Trip

Gaze out the front window at the ominously sunny day. Pink clouds float threateningly against the suspiciously blue sky. A bird is singing.

Kougaiji is watching it. I wonder if he wants to play with it, throw sparkles at it or eat it.

I need a drink.

I'm leaving early, dammit. It's only polite to be early for appointments, right? And maybe I'll surprise that receptionist with my responsible behavior, show her I'm not a total drunk. Or something.

...I need a drink.





All the chibis are back at the kitchen table amusing themselves, but it feels as though I'm under surveillance. I'm sure they've got a betting pool going for when I'll drink. I wonder who has money on me breaking down and getting Hakkai to drive me there?

Judging by Goku's crash helmet, the odds must be pretty good.





"Anyway..." Interrupt their machinations momentarily. "I have to go downtown to get some pills." They know this. I know this. We have established common ground. Now, to drop the bomb: "You should stay here."

A surprising lack of explosion: By actually speaking to them, and not forcing them to eavesdrop, I have lost their attention completely. A few heads nod in cursory acknowledgement of my existence, but no one speaks to me. Instead, the conversation returns to Mr. Collar's bathroom habits.

Kougaiji is whistling at the bird. The bird whistles back. It's eerily Snow White-esque, except for the dwarves at the table: Cutesy, Surly, Gropey and Hungry.





Acquire jacket. Hunt out car keys. This is considerably easier to do when sober, but not nearly as much fun.

Stand in the doorway, and check the Chibis one last time.

Four heads are huddled over a cut-throat game of... Pictionary? And Kougaiji is teaching the bird the Macarena.





They'll be fine here.

If they burn the place down, I won't have to do laundry. And Hakkai'll take care of the cat, I'm sure.

This is way too easy.

Which is just the way I like my life.





"Bye, then." Wave. Leave.





Close door, lock it. Check pockets for necessary pocket cargo. Should learn to do that before locking the door. Anyway, I have what I need.

Car.





Car is five heads fuller than an empty car should be. Hakkai has the map unfolded, and markers out. Goku has abandoned his crash-helmet (and likely some cash) for a snorkel, bucket and spade.

"Where do you think you're going?" I inquire, hopelessly.

"With you." they chorus.

"Of course." they add.

"Ha!" Sanzo snorts from behind the paper.

"It's best not to read in the car, Sanzo." Hakkai rustles the map.

"She hasn't got her crap in gear yet. I'll stop when we actually move."

"But..." Try to venture a word of objection, as the required full-sized driver, only to be ignored completely.

"Goku ate my snack!"

"Quiet!" Sanzo's wapping fan has remarkable reach, stretching all the way to the back seat. I can only hope that it will be used as a deterrent while I drive, or I won't need pills, as I and all my vehicular parasites will be dead.






Just give up. That's always my favorite option.

Get in.





Kougaiji is napping in the back window.

"You know," Muse aloud while starting the car. "Maybe this is a good thing. I mean, if you're going to go to the shrink, why not take your hallucinations along?"

Besides, they obviously need therapy more than I do.





Dead Silence.





Broken by Hakkai:

"Are you sure you should be driving when you're hallucina-"

"Oh, be quiet." Bump over the curve and out of the driveway. "And pass me those cookies."








I've given up on hiding them.

After all, if they're hallucinations, no one else should be able to see them. And if they're not...

Oh, I hope they are.

Anyway, this seems like the right place to bring them: crisp white walls, plenty of fake plants, a somewhat surly receptionist...

Her drugs must have worn off. Poor thing.





The chibis have successfully negotiated the double doors to get in, at one point using Goku as a doorstop. They are cunningly disguised as potted plants. And a bucket. What a bucket would be doing in the waiting room of Dr. A. Fraid, psychiatric specialist, I don't know.

The receptionist doesn't seem to notice. She has other things on her mind:

"No, I don't know where you put it! You'd better find it, or the government men will.... They have special accountants, you know. With guns!" Wait politely off to one side, picturing bookish, brown-jacket wearers packin' heat. "... hold on, there's someone here. Oh, it's your drunk. You know, the one who... yeah, she says she's seeing things now."




The entirety of this gesture-filled conversation is held into a near-invisible headpiece. Any reasonable person observing would think she was the crazy one.

"Hmph. She looks like the crazy one." Mumbles a fern, so dry it's yellow, as it paws through the magazines.

"Hey, if she's crazy do we need these disguises? My feet itch." Whines the bucket.

"Hush now... we don't know how crazy she is. After all, plenty of people talk to themselves... a bit..." the 14-inch tropical hushes them both.

I suppose I don't really need to check in. I think she knows I'm here.




Take a seat.

The motion seems to catch the eye of the receptionist, who drags her mind away from her government gun-men related troubles to patronize me.

"Oh, look! You've brought your doll with you. He's so... cuddly-looking. What's he made of?" She makes me feel kind of small... rather like Kougaiji, who is clinging to my arm wuvingly, having decided that the perfect disguise is no disguise at all.

I look at Kougaiji, who blinks up at me.

"Teeth. Mainly." I note. "Though that's just an observation."

"Isn't that fascinating."




It's the tone of voice. Something about that tone of voice causes me to decide against warning her about the delightful pot of red tea roses that are trying to look up her skirt.

"I'll have a room ready for you right away. You've hit us on a slow day, lucky you." So very lucky. Nice to know that the crazy population decided to give me a break today. And the Government Elite Accountant Squad.



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