The Robotessy
Chapter Three
by Leigh
I looked at Victoria. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
She just gave me a look in return - a look I see all the time. I could see it slide behind her eyes. Those brown eyes were distracting if you weren't careful - they were so very like a squirrel's. I ignored her small, darting orbs, and concentrated on what they were saying to me.
Leigh, they were saying... Leigh, if I think about this any harder, my brow might furrow. And you know what that could mean. It could mean wrinkles. Or worse: glasses.
I continued to look at her, however. I knew my own eyes were whispering to her. They whispered ...Touch�.
"Fine." I said at last. "Fine. But I will not be held responsible for any of this."
"When did you ever create something?" she shouted at me, enraged. "Always naysaying! You sit in your tower!"
To anyone else, that might seem like a normal thing to say, but I can read Victoria pretty well. That was her subtle way of telling me that it was too late to change her mind now.
ANYWAYS (as the Egyptian pharaohs used to say when they wanted to start a new topic of converation), something was happening outside my house. Something was... approaching, and it was approaching faster than a rabbit that was "hopped" up on speed. Get it? See what I did there? Well, all the kings horses and all the kings men couldn't prevent what was about to happen.
The doorbell rang.
"Mine!" screeched Victoria, diving for the handle.
"Hey fag," Courtney said casually, breezing into the room like a cool summer breeze, if breezes in the summer were cool like snow. "Where'd you get that faggy hat? The Fag Hat Store?"
"Yes, Courtney," I said evenly. "I purchased my hat from a store that caters their hats solely to homosexuals."
"She admitted it!" twittered Victoria. Well, two could play at that game.
"Shut up Monkey, you don't know that dude!" I retorted. I could see the power of my words had moved her like a powerful moving device, because to fool the rest of us into believing she was not deeply wounded by the power of my retortion, she promptly began ignoring me and talking to Courtney.
It was something about robots. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it washed over me like so many waves carrying pieces of seaweed, little fish and the occasional pair of men's underpants.
"No, Courtney, you don't understand. The Courtneybot 23.0 prototype has gone horribly, horribly wrong!"
Why should I care about their little robotic schemes? When did anyone ever appreciate my input? I wrestled zombies and created Agent Smiths and what did I have to show for it? Nothing but a few pennies and a metal button on my left wrist!
"...So you mean, they won't be ready in time to wash the car for me?"
Oh, so now her ROBOTS got to wash the car. What was I? Chopped liver?! I cleared my throat.
"Worser than that," Victoria continued, "They won't be ready in time to..."
I cleared my throat a little louder this time.
"...No!" gasped Courtney. "But that would mean the end of the - Oh, what is it now, fag?"
"Courtney," I said patiently. "Sometimes, when we don't pay attention to the mouthwords we are making, we end up wounding the heartfeelings of other people. Do you really want to be a heartfeeling wounder? Wouldn't you rather be a heartfeeling soother?"
"What the hell are you talking about, Dr Phil? Shut up before I have to pop a cap in your ass."
I counted to ten. "Do you even know what that means?"
"It means," Courtney glared at me, "That before you can say 'Hitler and Kurt Cobain on a beautiful bed of lettuce,' you will be facing the awesome wrath of my Courtneybot 23.0!"
Victoria leaped out of her chair. "No she won't, because it's not working! Haven't you been listening to me?!"
"Oh Victoria," Courtney said lovingly. "We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams."
Looking at the two of them sitting there, Victoria with her robotic third arm gesturing wildly, and Courtney in her favourite Bruce Lee t-shirt, I suddenly had a revelation. "You have no power over me!" I exclaimed. I got up and exited the room. I could hear the argument continue behind me, but that was meaningless now. As we all know, it takes a big man to cry, but it takes an even bigger man to laugh at that man.
I went into the kitchen and picked up the telephone, dialing as my thoughts floated gently back and forth like clouds riding sky-donkeys.
"Hello? It's me. Yes, they're at it again with some kind of scheme. No, this time it involves tv. ...I swallowed it! So sue me! ...No, this time we have to be more subtle. Great. See you soon. Is that a cutlass in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"
That last part was our code phrase. It was how we knew the transmission was coming to an end. Sure, it was a little inappropriate at children's parties, but by god, it got the job done.
Five days and a whole lot of lemon meringue pies later, I was driving out to Courtney's. I tried my damnedest to stay away from the place, but somehow, it just kept pulling me back there. Victoria was in the backseat. She couldn't sit in the front next to me, because there wasn't enough room to arm-wrestle herself, and she couldn't go five minutes without doing that. Backseat it was.
"Must you be forever wrestling with that incessantly beeping arm?!" I shouted at her, as the sight of her going against the arm in the rear view mirror caused me to swerve the vehicle rather violently.
She and the arm both ceased for a moment. They stared at me, both of their mouths open. It was just the respite I needed to park the car at the bottom of the hill. We were here. Fortress Courtney.
"Look," I said, "We're about to step into some freaky shit here. I won't ask you to do anything I wouldn't do myself, but I need to know that you've got my back. If you're not up to the job... Then just stay in the car."
"I call shotgun!" There was a look of terrible pride in her eyes. Some might call it a fool's pride - some would be right.
"...You are physically unable to have shotgun, Victoria."
"I call the backseat!"
Glad to know we were on the same page.
I got out of the car and started up the hill, keeping my eyes on the hulking structure that was Courtney's abode. It was best that Victoria was out of the way, I tried to tell myself. I'd do much better on my own. And I wouldn't be on my own for long, anyway.
A clap of thunder clapped ominously overhead. It seemed to reverberate across the countryside, the clouds so satisfied that they kept on clapping long after any visible signs of lightning. Nervously, I pulled the sleeve down over my metal wrist-button. It hadn't been lightning-proofed yet this week. At least it was waterproof.
If only I had stuck around last week. It would have been so much easier to prevent this. I only had myself to blame, I supposed. Myself and my fool's dreams of freedom from the two people that would happily don pots - nay, saucepans - as protection and headbutt each other for hours at a time. If I had stayed to listen to them arguing about the Courtneybot 23.0, I would have known much sooner what horrible malfunctions were occuring.
Well, call me Hitler's ghost riding a flaming stallion, but was it really my fault that after 23 different Killbot models I had trouble paying attention?
My regrets had carried me to the door. I raised my hand to knock, because my mother raised me polite, and it swung inwards with a creak. "Ehehe. Welcom to Castle Courtney," said a wheezing voice. I peered into the dark cavern beyond the door frame.
'Oh, it's you, Gummy Sue.'
'My NAME is Natalia.'
'Wow, did you get a new tooth? You look just like Britney Spears!'
'...It's for chomping.'
'It sure is, Gummy Sue. It Sure Is. So, is Courtney in?'
'The master is in her basement.'
She sure was. 'Well... Invite me in, then.'
'Come in, Leigh... If you dare.'
'Double dare!'
'Triple dog dare!' I shouted triumphantly, stepping inside. Our greeting ritual was complete. The proper etiquette had been observed. Now it was time to get down to business, and, if possible, get down with our bad selves as well.
I pushed past Natalia, stalking towards Courtney's bedroom. The door clearly said, "Do not Enter, Mortal, unless you are the Immortal Hitler, and/or Bruce Lee." I declined to knock upon the door. The knockers always tried to take a bite out of me, on the grounds that I was trying to touch their knockers. I'd learned my lesson on previous visits: it took two to tango, and I was no longer willing to stick the thorny rose between my teeth. I touched the jaw-imprinted scar on my left hand a little woefully in memory.
Enough reminiscing, Shirley! It was time to go in there and take the tiger by the tail! If, by "tiger" you meant "Courtney", and if by "tail" you meant "welded together household appliance parts which formed a badly constructed robot that was unable to do anything right, not even comb its own hair."
I pushed open the door. The giant poster of Bruce Lee had been replaced with Kurt Cobain. They seemed to go on an endless rotation. There were some swordfighting pics about the bed that I lowered my eyes from, bashfully. I didn't need to see Hitler doing that. I saw no life in the room, apart from dead life, by which I mean Courtney's stuffed poodle Sir Smash A Lot. I ignored him. He wasn't important now.
Fine, she could try to hide, but it wasn't going to work. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a stick of bright pink chalk. Concentrating so hard that my tongue stuck out between my lips, and I think I went a little cross-eyed, I drew the outline of a swinging door. I pushed cautiously and it gave.
"What the hell are you doing?" Gummy Sue screeched from the doorway. "No drawing on the walls!"
"Natalia, I DON'T have time for your petty quibbles."
"You drew a curly pink villain moustache on Saint Kurt! Do you KNOW how dead you are?"
"Oh Natalia." I laughed, but it sounded hollow, like a hollow log, even to me. "Better than you. Better than you. Now go away."
I didn't wait to see if she obeyed my command, hump-backed drone that she was. Instead I made my way down to the basement of the castle, using my well-developed nightvision to avoid doing embarrassing things like falling down the steep, steep stairs.
"Ahaha," laughed Courtney. "The stairs get everyone."
"Shut up, you medieval dickweed."
She shut up, but not for long. "How the mighty have FALLEN, d00der."
"Say Courtney, what's that on the computer screen behind you?" I said, knowing full well what was on the screen, and just pissed off enough to unleash its horror. "Could it be... Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction?!"
She gasped. "It's not how it looks!"
"Really? Because it LOOKS like you're writing Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction!" I started to read it aloud, as she desperately attempted to close the window, fumbling in her desperation. " 'Yugi caressed the side of Fourtney's face, tenderly. "Oh Fourtney," he said, "It's time to stop living in our past lives!" ' "
I had made the worst mistake possible. I had let my anger draw my attention to Courtney's sick little habit, without stopping to consider what was going on in the rest of the basement. Now I heard, too late, a sound behind me like so many silk scarves assembled into a clunking robot and about to attack. I turned, too late, and felt a heavy metal thingee connect with the side of my delicate skullbone.
When I awoke, my skullbone was still throbbing. I groaned. I needed a better job. And a boyfriend that looked like Johnny Depp, but could transform into three types of car and one type of minivan. I opened one eye, cautiously. I opened the other eye, but not at the same time. Who knows what kind of damage that could do?
I was still in the Castle Basement. And I was not alone. Robots shambled before my eyes, groaning with the weight of their existence, and also the weight of the huge video cameras strapped to their heads. I was chained to a table, upright against the far wall. So this is what it's like... when doves cry. Behind their robotic mass, Courtney and Victoria were busy at the computer screen.
"No!" Victoria was saying. "The pharaoh would never say 'Anyways'. He's, like, MILLIONS of years old. They didn't HAVE any other ways back then."
"Victoria," Courtney sighed, "You're taking this far too literally. The ANYWAYS is METAPHORICAL."
"...Ohh. I get it."
I wondered, briefly, whether I should alert the 23.0s to my conscious state, but decided I didn't have a better course of action. "Victoria! I told you to wait in the car!"
She glanced my way, while Courtney's sultry gaze remained only for her favourite Japanese cartoon. "Sorry Leigh. I ran out of candy. Plus, the robots needed me."
"What about me?!" I yelled. "Did you think that maybe I needed you?!"
"You told me to stay in the car." She said, logically.
"Victoria, if you did everything I told you, we'd be rich off the fruit of your labours by now." I stopped to think. "What did the robots need you for?"
"Someone had to hit you over the head."
"That was YOU, you fuckmook?!"
"Fresh!" Victoria twittered.
While we had been exchanging witty repartee, the 23.0s had advanced on me. "Uh... What are they doing?"
"If you're so smart, JAY, you figure it out."
"Ohhh, snap." Courtney took her eyes off the computer long enough to concur.
Fine, if they wanted to get into a pursuance of that train of thought, we'd see who'd win. Me, baby. Me.
"Well, from here, I'd have to say it looks like your stupid robots were designed for filming some kind of television show. I deduce from the nature of its creators that the show was designed to revolve around people injuring themselves - "
I was interrupted by Victoria's raucous laughter. "It's so funny!"
"... Er, yes. Anyway, I deduce that the show would revolve around real-life physical comedy. Judging from the book on the table next to you - "
Courtney narrowed her eyes. "Swordfighting for Dummies?"
" No - "
"...101 Cajun Caftish Recipes Guaranteed to Satisfy Any Man, Especially if He's Hitler?"
"No - "
"Ohh, The Art of the Papier Mach� Robot?"
"NO you FUDGEMONKEY, the book next to you titled Why I Desire to Emulate Johnny Knoxville, authored by one COURTNEY O'NON."
"Oh, that one."
Victoria picked it up, interested. "Hey, you wrote a book? Why didn't you tell me? I thought we were tight, d00der. Now what, suddenly we don't even hug no more? We don't feel the same LOVE no more?"
I screamed in frustration. The sound came out high-pitched and rather like a moose, which as we all know, is the king of the Canadian animal kingdom. "I'm trying to deduce, here!"
"...Sorry," Victoria and Courtney chimed, looking a little embarrassed. "Yeah, do go on, old bean," Victoria said.
Ahem. I cleared my throat, and tried to ignore the menacing, incredibly slow-advancing robots making their way towards me.
"Judging from the book on the table next to you, I'd say the show was designed to be a lame knockoff of Jackass - "
"JACKBUTT!" Shouted Victoria suddenly. She sobbed a little. "Jackbutt!"
"You HAD to bring up the failure of the Jackbutt plan, you fag." Courtney glared at me. "You KNOW how sensitive she is about that."
I didn't even try to tackle that one. "Anyway, your evil plan was to build an army of Courtneybots designed to capture scenes of hilarious human anguish for your television show, Jackbutt. Unfortunately, the plan went horribly wrong, when, as usual, you couldn't manage to programme the robots correctly. Said robots are now advancing on me with a horrible gleam in their cold grapefruit eyes. Taking into account the long, pointy fangs you oh-so wisely chose to endow this model with - "
"In memory of Lestat! Oh Lestat! You just keep on scrapping along! ...Hey, that's a really good line for my fic." Courtney turned back to her computer screen once more, and I have to say, I was a little relieved.
"TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE FANGS I'd say that an appropriate name for the Courtneybot 23.0, when it comes the time to tell this story to our grandchildren, would be Courtneybot: The Vampiric Version, and THAT would be why I am chained to a table with them advancing on me, intent on satisfying their unholy hunger."
Victoria stared at me. "If you already knew the answer... Why did you bother to ask?" Her robotic third arm beeped in agreement.
"SHUT UP MONKEY, and get me out of these chains!"
"Oh, you know... I'd really love to. I really would. But the robots, Leigh. The robots. Let's see you get out of the end of THIS story." She cackled.
Fine, it was up to me, as usual. I closed me eyes and took a deep breath. I could feel the calm spreading around me, like a white fuzzy baby blanket with little yellow chickens on. They were so cute, you could hear them faintly CHEEP CHEEP.
Now in control of myself, I opened my eyes again. I didn't need a mirror to see that I looked completely different. For one thing, they were slightly more green than usual, making them blue-green, instead of blue-grey.
Victoria gasped and nudged Courtney. "What's she doing?"
Courtney looked. "You mean besides being a fag?"
I blocked out their voices. Stretching the muscle that wasn't a muscle, more like a hand really, a hand to be outstretched, I commanded. "Robots. Stop." The robots stopped.
"What the hey?" said Victoria. She was probably miffed that her Killbots couldn't even KILL properly, nevermind the BOT part.
"Now, Robots. Fall to pieces!"
And I watched as, unable to do anything but obey my voice, the robots slowly dissembled before my very (blue-green) eyes.
Now I pushed my wrist-button. Blades made out of an incredibly strong material, so strong that it was probably from a meteor from the Planet Jupiter, the strongest of all planets, shot out of their sheaths, slicing through the rusty chains that held me to the table. I dropped to the floor.
"Get in the car, Victoria. It's time to go."
"I call shotgun!" was her reply.
Courtney looked up. "Wait, how'd you do that?"
I walked over to her, and sat down.
"How many times have I told you not to sit on the dog?"
"Oh, sorry," I said, moving slightly. "Anyways, it's time I told you both my secret."
"I thought you said it was time to go?"
I glared at her. "Victoria, I do NOT appreciate you being snide." She looked humbled, but also a little pissed. "I... Am a vampire. I can control all kinds of undead."
They stared at me. I could only imagine what kind of thoughts of awe and fear were running through their heads.
"Uh..." Courtney said eventually. "You go out in sunlight."
I laughed scornfully. "Not without plenty of sunscreen."
They peered closer. "I thought that was just to protect your pasty white skin from developing freckles." Victoria said after a short pause.
Courtney continued. "But you don't drink blood."
"Well, you see, I - "
"AND you're definitely not immortal. I mean, since I saw you five days ago, time has ravaged your once youthful face. You have some grey hair, even."
I stared at her. "What are you trying to say, Courtney?"
"I'm just saying, LEIGH, that you're about as preternatural as a pair of socks just warm from the dryer."
"...Fine, if you're going to naysay, I'm not going to bother explaining it."
"So... When you said you were a vampire, what you really mean was 'Guys... I'm a fag.'"
I sighed. They just didn't understand. They weren't burdened with the prospect of the cold, dark, wasteland of eternity. I shrugged. "Yes, Courtney. 'Vampire' is the new slang term for 'homosexual.' Didn't you know?"
"She admitted it!" Victoria twittered.
"In the car, Victoria." I shoved her in the direction of the stairs. "But we haven't finished our Yu-Gi-Oh!"
"Fine, you stay, I'm leaving," I said, but they had already stopped listening. To them, it was like I had just disappeared. It was probably best to leave now, before Courtney offered to walk me out and inadvertently saw what had happened to Saint Moustache. I mean, Kurt. "I'll see you later, Courtney." She obviously didn't hear me, because as I climbed the stairs, I heard, "What happened to Leigh?"
"Ah, Victoria. Some things, man was not meant to know."
As I trudged back to the car, it began to rain. I pulled out my cellphone. "Me. Yeah. Done. Finished. No, I forgot about that. Well, excuse me, but I was just a little preoccupied. ...What do you MEAN like a moose? Whatever. Is that a cutlass in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"
I hung up. I climbed in my car. I drove off into the sunset.
Chapter Four