Chapter Seven
Jensen made it to the weekend, but just barely. Finally, it was Saturday and he looked at the Post-It Rosey had attached to the bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth.
“Don’t forget to smile!” It read, followed by six too-damn-happy smiley faces.
“Rosey!” Jensen emerged from the tiny space wiping toothpaste from his mouth.
“You rang?” He looked up from the waffle iron he was using. “And more importantly, do you want a breakfast brownie?”
“What the hell is a breakfast brownie?”
Rosey grinned from ear to ear, “Oh, Jenny, you are so sheltered.” He opened the lid to the waffle iron to reveal the most inviting sight and smell Jensen had experienced since leaving his mama’s house. “Voila!”
“That smells like heaven.”
“Oh, trust me, my boy - it is,” Rosey freed the chocolate waffle from the iron and plated it before adding a dollop the whipped cream and a single strawberry.
“You - you did this all by yourself?” Jensen asked as he took the first bite.
“My mother used to make them for me before all the biggest tests,” he admitted as he took a bit off his own plate.
“Well, please tell her I said thank you - but what big test do we - “ Jensen stopped mid-chew.
“Yeah.” Rosey sympathized. “But if it helps, while you’re out there ‘getting’ your Eugene on’, I am part of the unofficial increased security.”
“I don’t envy you,” Jensen admitted
.
“So, you ready for your big debut?”
“Yeah, I think I am, actually. Though I have to admit these waffle brownie things really helped. Thanks, man.”
“Hey, good roommates take care of each other.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard some horror stories.”
“You should have met the guy who was living here before you.”
“Been meaning to ask what happened to him, actually.”
Rosey pulled out a chair and joined Jensen. “Let me start out by saying that Ian Somerhalder is a legend.”
“A legend?”
“You’ve never heard of him?”
“Uh, no.”
“You’ve been here how long?”
“Apparently not long enough.”
“Oh, I need to tell you about this man.”
“You sound like you are proud of him.”
“Who wouldn’t want to be him? He - he - well, for starters, he signed a shirt. While someone was wearing it.”
“Edgy.”
“Across the chest.”
“Oh.”
“But the story gets better.”
“How can it?”
“When park security finally caught up with him, he lied. Blamed Tom Welling. Thing is though, he had signed it ‘Flynn Rider’.”
“Uh-oh.”
“And all the while he was dressed as Donald Duck.”
“This is - “
“But instead of his head, he was wearing the one from the ‘Chip’ suit.”
“How tall was this guy?”
“Near my height, about six feet. Maybe shorter - “
“But Donald is what? Made for someone about five feet?”
“Less - so here is this tall guy with this short, squatty duck suit - he was showing at least a foot of non-costumed by Donald-suit skin. And this Chip head.”
“Did he at least have a shirt on?”
“Better. He has also somehow managed to get part of Snow White’s costume and had the top on - “
“No.”
“Oh yeah. Spent most of the day wandering around like that too! Highlight of that day thought was how it all ended.”
“Yeah?”
“Around three o’clock, security ran into him in Tomorrowland. He was standing near the Carousel of Progress claiming to be ‘the Duck of Tomorrow’. It was a mess.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“We suppose it only ended because he vomited twice, spit, and then threw the head off somewhere before wiping his mouth with a paw and shoving that same paw in a passing stroller.”
‘That’s… elaborate.”
“We only know because of camera footage. And first-hand accounts from people who say they had wonderful chats with him.”
“He talked? Out loud? While wearing what I guess you could call a full character suit?”
“Oh yeah, told everyone who would listen he was in the Witness Relocation Program.”
“Well, that’s way worse than I can even begin to think of trying to do.”
“Yeah, so take heart that you really have to screw up to be let go.”
Jensen finished and learned back in his chair. “Sadly, that makes me feel a lot better.”
“Good. Now you better go get ready if you want to get a costume that fits you.”
“What?”
“Oh, I forget you’re new here. There’s this thing where they only have so many costumes for each face character and there are people who find the perfect fit and cling to them.”
“I see.”
“You want to be one of those people, Jensen.”
“I do?”
“You so do.”
“Okay,” Jensen frowned in concentration for a moment. “But I like to think I have one clear advantage.”
Rosey looked up from where he was loading the dishwasher. “And what’s that?”
“You.”
“Me? How am I your advantage exactly?”
“Rosey. You work in the costume shop.”
“Yes.”
Jensen waited for a moment to see if Rosey had been listening to the conversation in the first place. “You. Work. In. The. Costume. Shop.”
“Yeees? And?”
“ROSEY.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah, ‘oh’. You can just save me the perfect costume.”
“But I can’t just - “
“And why not? Roommates take care of each other, don’t they?”
“Because that’s not ethical.”
Jensen sighed. “Fine. But it was worth a shot.”
“Now go get ready.”
“Yes, dad.” Jensen laughed as he shook his head.
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