| Gloom Doom and a Padded Room |
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* Gloom Doom and a Padded Room *
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“Tabby!” Timmy squealed. Fluffy, Satan’s very own spawn, hissed and bristled at him, extending a mammoth paw and flashing a set of razor-sharp claws under his nose. Timmy was about to pee his Osh-Kosh (Bygosh!) overall pants if his Princess didn’t rescue him soon. Sometimes being a real boy was for the birds. “Princess,” Timmy whined, backing toward the stairs, one careful foot at a time. “Tabby! Help Timmy!” Timmy cried plaintively. Tabitha appeared out of thin air, plucking Timmy up by his collar and tossing him onto the sofa. “Thank you, Princess,” Timmy lisped, rubbing his bruised forehead. “Fluffy…” “Fluffy, Sweet Charity, Innocent Theresa…is there nothing you don’t whine about, Lad?” Tabitha huffed, giving Fluffy a swift kick and sending the growling cat out the open front door. “SSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!” “What in Hades name…” Tabitha muttered, heaving herself to her feet and tottering over to see what all the fuss was about. “I just sat down.” Tears leaked from Grace Bennett’s blue eyes as she tried to peel the monstrous feline from her upper body, causing Fluffy to just dig in her claws and hold on tighter. “SSSSSSSSAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMM!!!” “Oh, it’s just HER,” Tabitha shrugged her shoulders, pausing to fix the purple ribbon in her mountain of blond curls. Grace continued to shriek, in ear-drum splitting fashion. Timmy shrank back against the couch when Grace blindly lunged for the front door. “Tabby!” he gasped, when his Princess slammed the front door in her face. “What?” Tabitha asked, picking up the television remote and turning on the ancient television. “Cheap rip-off,” she grumbled, passing on reruns of Bewitched without a second glance. “Hollywood. They never get the REAL story right,” “Timmy likes Samantha. She’s nice.” “Timmy has a blond fetish.” Timmy scowled and crossed his arms over his chest in disgust. Tabitha hurled the remote control at the television set after surfing through 100 channels of NOTHING. “Timmy’s bored.” “Bored? In Harmony? Inside Harmony is the number one rated reality show in all of Hell,” Zombie Charity said gleefully, pointing a finger at the television. Timmy cringed, and Tabitha clapped her hands in glee, grabbing the bowl of popcorn from Zombie Charity’s hands to shove a handful into her mouth. Grace Bennett zipped past, fighting ferociously with Fluffy to free herself, wailing, “SSSSSSSAAAAAAMMMMMMMM!!!!” Timmy leaned forward in his seat when the picture on the television changed to… “That’s Sheridan! Princess, Timmy and Tabby have to tell Luis…” “Put a sock in it, Batting for Brains,” Tabitha clamped a hand over Timmy’s frantically working mouth. A muscled himbo was leading Sheridan in a truly inspired dance! It was utterly magnificent! “Oh, Brian! I know the steps to the Hokey Pokey!” “You’re a natural, Diana,” said himbo gushed. “You even knew that special step my baby sister taught me before I skipped town and left my family in a bind. Stick your nose in, stick your nose out. Stick it in everybody’s business, that’s what it’s all about!” “Diana?!” Timmy’s face scrunched up. “Who’s Diana? Where’s Sheridan?” “Your sister sounds like someone I knew once. Brian,” Sheridan’s face grew more and more animated. “Maybe she knew my Dead Lover!” “I LOVE you, Diana,” Brian announced suddenly, leaning forward to steal a kiss from her. Timmy closed his eyes. Sheridan closed her eyes. Brian closed his eyes. “Diana…that was amazing. You’re amazing. Diana…Diana?” Zombie Charity snorted when the blond bombshell snored loudly, and Brian beamed back at her, more lovesick than ever. “I think it’s time to change the channel, doncha think?” “That’s…that’s…” “Whitney Russell,” Tabitha finished for him, popping another kernel of popcorn into her mouth. Whitney pranced and prissed around Harmony Hospital provocatively, even stopping to straddle a geriatric patient’s wheelchair. T.C. pounded Chad in a far corner while Simone pulled at Eve’s hand, “Mom, something’s wrong with Whitney.” Whitney gyrated her hips, belting out a number Timmy was oddly familiar with… “That’s not Whitney’s voice!” “Do you believe in life after love…after love…after love…” “Tabby, why does Whitney sound like…Cher?” “I can feel myself…” The Wicked Witch music from the Wizard of Oz cued, and Ivy Crane’s wheelchair zipped by the bewildered Russell family. Rebecca Hotchkiss in a hurried waddle to catch up with her. “I’m Mrs. Crane!” “Becky…puh-leaze,” Ivy cackled haughtily as her wheelchair burst through the double doors of the PSYCHO ward. “I’m Mrs. Crane!” “I’m Mrs. Crane! Mrs. Julian Crane!” a shrill voice sounded, Ivy and Rebecca followed the accompanying sounds of screaming. “I did it all for Ethan! It’s all Ivy and Rebecca’s fault.” Norma raised her ax up in the air, her eyes wild, preparing to hack off the ten-root long nose attached to PSYCHO ward’s newest occupant. “But Doctor,” Theresa pleaded, as two orderlies TRIED to maneuver her into her padded room. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m innocent,” she sobbed, shoulders trembling beneath her strait jacket and rivulets of mascara dripping down her scrunched up nose. “Dr. Sanchez…how is she doing? How is my Theresita doing?” Pilar wrung her hands, glaring in Ivy and Rebecca’s direction. “What she says is true, Doctor. None of what happened is my Theresita’s fault.” Dr. Sanchez stepped back in horror as a tiny twig sprouted on the end of Mrs. Lopez-Fitzgerald’s nose. “Luis, you can’t let them do this to me. I’m your sister. I love…ETHAN! ETHAN! You have to help me. You’re the only one who can,” Theresa cried out when she saw Ethan standing behind the glass windows, Gwen by his side. “There’s only you, Ethan. You’re the only one that matters!” The frown on Luis’s face turned into a scowl as Hank yanked him aside by the arm and shoved Beth into his chest. “You have to move on, Buddy. Beth’s the perfect woman for you. She can make you forget all about Sheridan before the 6-month anniversary of her fiery death.” “Luis, I’m here for you,” Beth gazed up at Luis adoringly. “Beth’s not Luis’s true love. Sheridan is. Turn it off, Tabby. Turn it off,” Timmy pleaded. “Sheridan,” Luis whispered with a faraway expression on his face. “Gag me,” Zombie Charity stuck a finger down her throat. “This stuff STINKS! Who wants to watch this shit?” “Thank you,” Timmy sighed in relief, scrambling down from the sofa and scooting off toward the kitchen. Zombie Charity sniggered as she watched ‘Aunt Grace’ getting the whipping of her life by 65 pound Fluffy in the Bennetts’ backyard, cries of “SSSSSAAAAMMMM” still escaping her lips in faint gasps of breath. Tabitha rolled her eyes and decided to join Timmy in the kitchen for some lovely Martimmys. An image flickered atop the television set, and REAL Charity appeared, shivering from her bun-covered head to her pruney toes… “Can anybody hear me? Help. Help. Someone please help me. Is anyone out there? Does anybody care? Miguel! Miguel! Miguel!” “Oh shut up!” three voices shouted in unison.
“I guess not,” REAL Charity pouted. “Aunt Grace? Anybody? Nobody misses me? Nobody even cares…”
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