Needless to say, after his Kung Pao shower, Brion sent me home. Well, to be honest, he really didn't send me home per se as much as shouted for me to "get out" through his blubbering. I took his tear streaked, Diet Coke, egg-rolled ridden face as sympathy to my cause and headed home.
After my epic projectile vomiting, I weaved my way out to Gizmo. I was so blasted hot, I felt like I was walking across the surface of the sun on my way to the bathing pits of hell with Lucifer himself. No amount of AC flowing out of the vents was helping cool me down and by the time I drove into my front yard, I was soaked in sweat.
Yeah, about the front yard...sorry Mrs. Myrtle. I sort of missed the driveway by a good 50 feet or so, but I did manage to miss the rose beds. The mailbox, on the other hand, is presently wedged under Gizmo's overbite like a bit of spinach.
I crawled out of my car and laid splayed across the grass doing an impression of a virginal sacrifice. Okay, so I was no virgin and there are bugs in the grass which made me eventually roll over and make my way to the door. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to put a key into a knob when you have an overactive depth perception? I'll tell you...it's pretty damn hard. Don't believe me? Belt the Hubble Telescope to your head and try it.
Ages later, I managed to get the front door open and began trailing my way to the bedroom. My purse I abandoned at the front door. It was much too heavy and slowing me down. Next, I discarded my keys. The clangorous jingle of them made my head explode into multifaceted colors. My Croc shoes were tossed. I punted one somewhere into the kitchen and the other sailed through the air landing with a deafening thud over by the sofa.
Unzipping my pants took a bit longer than planned and I almost shredded them in frustration trying to get them off. Finally I managed and dropped the soaking wet garment on the floor next to my bedroom door. My Superpumper shirt got ripped off my body sending buttons pinging around the room like shrapnel and thrown against the wall where it stuck for a second or two before sliding to the floor leaving behind a wet streak.
The few last steps to my bed seemed to be the longest journey of my life. My feet dragged across the shagged carpet and my arms were outstretched, my fingers trying to pull my bed closer as I lumped along. I could totally be a Walking Dead zombie and if I survived whatever that scientist guy gave me, I promised myself I would put together a resume in the morning as I finally flopped on the bed.
Also, I was swearing off drugs. Not that I actually ever did drugs, but if the opportunity happened to present itself, I was definitely beyond a shadow of a doubt, saying no. Visions of Mrs. Regan's "Just Say NO" drug campaign danced in through my head as I faded off to sleep.
Nightmares took over, kicking Mrs. Regan to the curb and haunted my dreams. Blood thirsty pink rabbits chased me endlessly through a maze of corndogs. The ferocious little fuzzy demons nipping at my heels and gobbling down my newly acquired red peep toed pumps, leaving me to limp across something incredibly cold and gelatinous.
Looking down expecting to see lime green Jell-O or something, I was horrified when I saw millions of worms, maggots and other slimy invertebrates wiggling between my French manicured toes. I opened my mouth to scream, but instead of an ear piercing screech, thousands of butterflies came fluttering out.
Sigmund Freud would have a field day with this dream, I thought as I ran for all I was worth. The squish, squish sounds of my feet hitting the ground drove me faster, only I wasn't moving and the pink bunnies were creeping closer and closer. Their ragged teeth snapping and clacking together as they approached. I could see bits of red leather sticking in-between their sharp little fangs.
Suddenly, a black mist enveloped me in a blanket of darkness and I could feel myself being lifted off the slimy ground. The pink rabbits jumping and snipping at my feet as I sailed out over the corndogs. One of them regurgitated part of my shoe and smiled deviously. Its fanged bunny chompers gleaming.
I clung to the mist as we flew higher and higher, heights were not my thing. I wanted to shriek in terror, but I was more worried about what might fly out, so I kept my mouth firmly shut along with my eyes. My toes dangled in the cool breeze and my body began to shiver as the air whooshed around me.
Hang on. You know those dreams you have where you are standing in front of a crowd of people in nothing but your underwear? Yeah, this was one of those dreams. I was floating through space, clinging to vapor in nothing but the purple Victoria Secret's bra and pantie set I put on this morning.
"It is time." A deep thunderous voice announced over the PA system of the flying cloud.
"Time? Time for what?" I asked.
"To live life eternal," It boomed.
"That doesn't sound ominous or anything." I rolled my eyes behind my lids, hugging the dark haze tighter.
"You need to let go. You are ready," It insisted.
"Not on your life, buddy," I gritted through my chattering teeth, wrapping myself around the mass like a rabid monkey.
"Sorry, Red, the ride ends here." The mist shook and flapped against me like it was ODing on Redbull sending me flagging against it.
One last shimmy and I was dangling off the very end, my white knuckled grip glowing oddly against the blackness. I tried desperately to climb back up, but I couldn't find purchase and my arms began to tremble from the exertion. I could hear my middle school gym teacher, Mr. Hooper, mocking me in front of the rest of the class that I would never amount to anything if I couldn't climb a stupid rope. Man, I hated that guy.
My hands slipped free and I dropped into the abyss.
"You aaaaaaaassssssssshooooooole!" Ripped from my mouth as I fell, dog paddling into nothingness. Malevolent laughter filling the void as I went.
I landed on my butt with a hard thump. The kind where you make that "oomph" noise and bounce a couple of times. I sat still for a moment, straining my ears for the sound of gnashing bunny fangs, the squishy slithery noise of millions of slimy things converging on top of other mucous coated icky things, but nothing other than the happy sound of my own breathing reached my ears.
I blew out a sigh of relief. Who knew rabbits could be so vicious, I thought shrugging. Looking at my new surroundings, it appeared as if I had fallen into a pitch black cave. Reaching carefully out, because I seriously didn't want to pull back nubs, my fingers landed on something soft and...fleecy? Grabbing a handful of it, I bravely pulled.
The covers came off my head in a soft swish. I was home, sitting on the floor in my own little private blanket fort. It had all been just a dream and obviously I fell out of bed. Thank goodness. I was not looking forward to reporting man eating, shoe crazed pink rabbits to the authorities.
I flopped back on the shag carpet and stared at the popcorn ceiling which seemed...vibrant. Probably the after effects of whatever drug that wackadoodle had given me. What a hell of a rush. I laid there for a few minutes, enjoying being alive, well and relieved I would be able to make it to that Old Navy sweater sale.
After a few daydreams about cardigans, pull-overs and fleece, I sniffed my armpit. What? You don't ever give your pits a little snuffle every now and then? If you don't, then you are probably one of those people that should. Needless to say, I failed the sniff test and needed a shower, badly. I smelled like stinky cheese.
Throwing what remained of my bedding off myself, I got up. I felt...amazing. I stretched my arms above my head, wiggling my fingers at the ceiling before leaning over and touching my toes. Laughing happily to see them worm free and unmarred. I even checked between my toes just to be sure there wasn't any leftover worm residue hiding. Nope...clean, pink and delightfully worm poop free. It was going to be a great day.
Skipping out of my room and into my uber pink bathroom, I noticed it was dark. There were no windows in my bedroom that could have clued me in, but according to the inky blackness outside the frosted bathroom window above the toilet, it was evening. I must have been really sick and completely out of it to sleep the day away. I thought about finding my purse and digging out my cell phone to see what time it was, but decided against it. Turning to the sink to assess the damage of my riotous night, I got a good gander at myself in the mirror.
My hair was a disaster! Not that it wasn't always a catastrophe, but tonight it looked like I had went one on one with a hurricane and lost. There wasn't a direction on the compass it wasn't sticking up at.
"I look like I could be the Lion King," I muttered trying to run a brush through it.
My face was still pale, but then again, it was always pale. Being a red head meant you avoided the sun or faced being a walking talking liver spot by the time you were 30. The black circles under my eyes were new. I moved my face closer to the mirror and poked at them. Those were going to take some serious spackle to cover, I thought.
Yanking the stuck brush out of my head, I decided the only thing going to save me was conditioner and a lot of it. Throwing back the shower curtain, I went to flick on the faucet like I normally do...only to have it end up sitting in the palm of my hand.
I looked down at it. It was one of those old jobbies that tried to pull off the look of "glass" but was really just cheap ass plastic. Plastic which was doing me absolutely no good sitting in my hand. I was not about to survive a harrowing night of beastly bunnies to be thwarted by plumbing. Frowning, I clumsily shoved it back on the little metal piece sticking out of the wall where the handle use to be. Okay, so I wasn't a DIY diva, but at least I managed to get the damn water turned on.
Cranking on some tunes, I started to scrub off the coating of scum and sweat sticking to my body as I whipped and nay nayed around in the shower. After I about broke my actual leg trying to do the stanky leg...I gave up and focused on taming the wild wildebeest that was my hair. I rinsed and repeated until I could pull a comb through it and roared my success just for the fun of it.
Carefully turning off the tap, I stepped out of the shower. While I was drying off and shaking it off, the plastic piece gave up the illusion of being remotely fixed and clattered to the floor of the tub. Drat! But, at least the shower stayed off, I thought as I wrapped the towel around myself.
Back at the mirror, I prepared my toothbrush for a good brushing. My mouth felt like something had crawled in there, given birth and died. Bringing my toothpaste laden brush to my lips, I opened my mouth and immediately dropped the toothbrush into the sink. It clattered and sent little bits of paste all over the counter, but I didn't care. I had a major problem.
I had fangs.
What would you do if you woke up one day with a pair of fangs? What will Mel do? Stay tuned for the next installment of FANGED to find out.
Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. If you liked it please give it a vote and comments are always appreciated. If you don't see any updates here...check out my other two stories Bending Steele or When Roses Collide.