The waitress held the chicken and potato order as long as humanly possible. Some people. So rude. Still, it made for a nice meal.
After dining alone, and lingering a bit-- it had been a long day and she had a houseful of kids to hurry home to, sink full of dirty dishes, chores to do. But not before she finished hers here.
With a heavy sigh she cleared the table, found the mop and bucket and headed off towards the least pleasant job in the place. The ladies room was as clean as ever. Women just generally being the more thoughtful, careful to aim of the species. But the men's...She shuddered. <Get it over with quickly, earn your pay, go home...>
Resolute, she pushed open the door. And was greeted by...well...by a man apparently...growing out of the toliet.
"Well, this is just not right," she pronounced stoutly. She pronounced everything stoutly, that was just her way. Good because no one argued.
With a little floor wax and some muscle- she did yoga 5xs a week and was a toned,limber little thing- she pried him out like a cork from fine champagne.
Not that she would know, exactly. She tended to prefer the Ripple...anyway, out he came. Dead. Surely.
But then, he gasped. He gurgled. He spewed.
<Oh, man. I am gonna have to clean that!>
"Who are you?" he asked wetly.
"You never came for your chicken and potatoes," she answered through narrowed eyes. He looked familiar, that man from the toliet, unsettlingly so.
"I guess I should thank you," he drawled.
It was that drawl that did it.
"Why wouldn't you thank me?" she demanded stoutly. See? This is her way. "I saved you. You might have drowned."
"Oh, I did drown," he smiled slowly. "Good and drowned. Absolutely, completely. Drowned, that is."
"But then...how? I mean, here you are...?" This time with a bit of uncharacteristic doubt in her voice.
"You see in Utopia-" he began smugly.
"Oh, nuts," she gasped. "You're...him."
"Am I?" He arched a brow.
She took a long steadying breath. Shook her head like a weary sage. "Come home with me. I have something for you." She spoke quietly but her tone brooked not nonsense.
Of course he went.
Her kids greeted them with a clash of friendly noise at the door. Hugs, kisses, scraped knees, frantic reports of the day's events all given before they were two feet inside.
Tempus shrank back, but she had him. Too late. And with the assistance of her boy scout son they had him tied to the Lazyboy.
"What is this?" he demanded shakily.
"These are my kids," she offered. "Cute, right?"
"Oh, god," he mewed weakly. Like a kitten really.
"Jillie," she prodded, "this is Mr Tempus. Can you sing for him? Jesus Loves Me? Don't forget the adorable lisp, ok?"
On cue, Jill- the youngest, round-cheeked, red-head- took up her song with earnest gusto.
"All the verses," her mama reminded her.
"Please," Tempus pleaded. "Please...no. Just..kill me outright."
"You didn't recognize me before," the woman said with a steely grin, removing her support hose and the hairnet on her head. "Been waiting for you a long time. I know it seems ungrateful, you won me a Kerth and all..."
"You're going to do it, though, aren't you?" he asked with pitiful dread, a small tear slipping from one evil eye.
"Cindy Lou get your butterfly costume and your tap shoes," she called out by way of an answer. "Bucky get ready to recite the 'I have a dream speech,' just like you learned."
"You're going to..." He couldn't seem to bring himself to say it.
"That's right, Tempus. Just relax. It's no less than what you deserve....warm and fuzzied...to death."
fade to black
~ ~ ~
hope not too long
