Just Your Toy 2, Wake
Hammer remembered his uncle taking him in when Hammer was just a kid. Growing up with your uncle that hated kids was not a pleasant experience. At ten years old Jason’s toys were all he had left in the world. Two dead parents and a burnt-house didn’t make for a wonderful life, so all he had was the G.I. Joe action figure he had in his backpack at school the day his home burned down. His uncle picked him up, took him home, locked him in a room, and told him to stay there. Two days later, Joe was found in fifteen different pieces around the living room.
“No kid I’m gonna raise is gonna be no pussy.” Jason learned quickly that toys were not permitted inside the house. So when it came to the Dr. Horrible puppet in his hands, Hammer was torn.
This was a person. True, it was a villain, his sworn enemy, the bad-guy. But it was still a person. No matter how many times he beat the dude into a pulp and almost killed him, he was held back by the memory of the kid he had battled and drank with all those years ago. True, it was only four years ago, but still. When your nemesis invites you to his graduation with his second Ph.D. eight weeks ago, you have a soft-spot for him. That’s why no other Hero could touch Horrible; he was Hammer’s only. This piece of wood was a person, a young adult, Doctor Horrible. His ray gun had turned him into a marionette.
But at the same time, he was a toy. The Hero in Hammer told him that it’s a person, don’t touch it, get him some help, fix him. But that deep old part of Hammer told him it was a toy, it needed to disappear. He wasn’t some pussy, he had to show that. Captain Hammer could not be found playing with puppets or dolls. So, so what was he going to do? He took Horrible home, with the ray-gun, and sat both of them on the table. He watched them for hours, trying to come up with something to do to them. He could zap the thing again; see if it turns him back into Horrible? But he didn’t know how the gun worked, and from the looks of it neither did Horrible. Stuff Ray, supposed to make him fat.
Hammer wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t like having to think. Because when you think, things like this happen. It was so much easier just to do. Rubbing his face he fixed himself a pot of coffee and leaned against the counter. Maybe he should give the thing back to Moist? Maybe the wet man knew something of what went wrong and could fix it? Hammer doubted it, but it was worth a shot. No, no it wasn’t. Because if anything, the Union would get on him about putting their member out of work. It was “beyond his contract” or some kind of bull shit the union liked to spit out.
He could always just pretend he didn’t know what happened to Horrible. They had their weekly fight, then he just disappeared. Sure, that could work. He could just donate the toy to some kid’s fund or whatever, make him look good. Yeah… yeah! The children’s cancer fund or something stupid like that, yeah, they’d love a Dr. Horrible doll! Or he could just throw him out.
He liked that much better.
So the thinking stopped, and Hammer leaned out of his window, aimed, and chucked the wooden doll into his neighbor’s trashcan. Perfect! Now he didn’t have to think about it.
Problem solved.
The next morning before the sun rose the trash-truck arrived right on time, lifting the grey container up emptying the recyclables into its gaping maw. Then it put the can down, driving on, oblivious to the human-turned-doll within its holdings. An hour later, Hammer woke with a jolt; he had dreamt that just as the wooden doll reached the grinder to become re-used paper, the gun wore off. Running down stairs he tossed on a pair of pants before wrenching the door open, dashing to his neighbor’s cans. They were empty. He’d never find Horrible now.
The truck rumbled on well into the day-light hours, the wooden Dr. Horrible wrapped in a plastic bag under a truck-full of junk. Were this any other time Billy would have been in heaven; tons of electronics and little do-dads to play with and make into something cool. But right now, Billy wasn’t thinking anything. By noon the back hatch opened, pouring the contents of the truck out into a heap at the dump. Seagulls flocked overhead, screaming and crowing at each other as they picked at the trash, finding nothing to their liking. They were in the wrong section; they wanted trash and got recycling instead. But it didn’t stop them from digging and trying to find something to eat. One pulled at a plastic bag when something white and large dropped out of it, scaring the feathered scavenger into flight again. Billy, or, the wooden Billy, lay tangled in his strings, face-down once again.
A group of boys turned a corner, throwing trash and gunk and heaven-knew-what at each other as they laughed up a storm. Fred ducked behind a cement slab the size of a dumpster, hearing the splats of rotten eggs hitting the side. Grinning like crazy he put his hand down to find a piece of ammo… then he took a look at what he grabbed.
“Hey! Hey guys, check this out!” He stood up, ducking back down when more eggs were thrown at him. “Cease fire cease fire! Really, dudes, check this!” Glancing around, finding there were no foul-smelling missiles coming his way, he ran out and showed off his prize.
Still white, still without a mark, Billy lay limp in the hand that had grabbed him.
“DUDE! My grandpa used to make those! They’re like puppets or something.”
“Why would someone throw this thing out? It looks brand new!”
“Bet we could make a buck off of it on Craigslist or something. Even Ebay if we’re lucky.”
“Nah, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a sacrifice to the gods.” Fred’s two friends looked at his suggestion with glee. Yes, they could so have a bon-fire tonight!
“But wait, the strings.”
“Right you are, Dan?” “Dan” pulled out a knife, taking great care to remove the strings from the puppet right down to the wood. They took great pride in their “ritual.”
“Hey! Dan, Fred, Chuck, what’s up?!” The three were like meerkats, turning their heads as Andy’s voice floated over the ocean of waste. They quickly hid the creature they were about to torture and burn right there in the garbage. They knew how much Andy loved toys, they had seen his room and his pristine amount of child-like fun.
“Nothing.”
“That’s not a nothing nothing. You’re leaving me out!”
“Duh!”
“Chuck!”
“What?”
“Spill guys.”
Chuck, who never really liked the burning of toys in the first place, snatched Dr. Horrible out of Fred’s hands and shoved it into Andy’s.
“WOAH COOL! Dude, this is the guy Captain Hammer’s beating up in my poster on my wall!”
“Huh?”
“Oh come on.” Andy rolled his eyes, stuffing Horrible in his back pocket. “You know Captain Hammer don’t you?!”
“Yeah.”
“This is his nemesis! It’s Doctor Horrible! He’s so cool.”
In the end, Andy won out; there were no rituals that evening. As the sun set, Andy dumped his backpack on the floor by his desk, pulling Dr. Horrible out of it and laying him gently on the table top. It looked so good! He fully intended on exploring his new toy when there was a knock on his door.
“Andy? We’re going to dinner, want to come?” In a flash the teen was up and out the door. The car started, and drove off. From the bed Woody lifted his head, listening to the sound of tires leaving.
“Alright everyone, they’re gone!” The room came to life, toys stirring all over the place again. They had gone to their places a few hours ago when Andy’s Mom had opened the door to vacuum. Now with everyone gone they knew they would have free-range for a while. Instantly everyone crowded around the foot of the desk. They wanted to know about the new-comer. Buzz cupped his hands together, lacing his fingers and proving a place for Jessie to get a good foot-hold. Pulling on Woody’s hand, the cow-girl hoisted her friend up onto her shoulders, where he reached the top drawer and pulled himself up. Once on top, Woody turned on the light to get a good look at the new doll. Nudging him slightly with a booted-toe, the cowboy nodded to Jessie that it was fine for them to come up.
Billy felt a shock go through him, twitching when something touched him and groaning softly. God how his head hurt! Coughing slightly he let his eyes fall closed, blinking before the world came into focus.
“Howdy!”
“AH!” Billy squeaked as the pointed-nosed man above him grinned and waved. Curling up tight Billy scuttled across the wooden top, goggles falling into his eyes.
“WHOAREYOUWHEREAMIWHATHAPPENED?!”
Buzz looked to his friends, shrugging at the antics of the man who had just hit the wall.
“Calm down, you’re okay.” Jessie knelt by the freaking mad scientist evil genius, patting his shoulder kindly. “Welcome to Andy’s room!"
“No kid I’m gonna raise is gonna be no pussy.” Jason learned quickly that toys were not permitted inside the house. So when it came to the Dr. Horrible puppet in his hands, Hammer was torn.
This was a person. True, it was a villain, his sworn enemy, the bad-guy. But it was still a person. No matter how many times he beat the dude into a pulp and almost killed him, he was held back by the memory of the kid he had battled and drank with all those years ago. True, it was only four years ago, but still. When your nemesis invites you to his graduation with his second Ph.D. eight weeks ago, you have a soft-spot for him. That’s why no other Hero could touch Horrible; he was Hammer’s only. This piece of wood was a person, a young adult, Doctor Horrible. His ray gun had turned him into a marionette.
But at the same time, he was a toy. The Hero in Hammer told him that it’s a person, don’t touch it, get him some help, fix him. But that deep old part of Hammer told him it was a toy, it needed to disappear. He wasn’t some pussy, he had to show that. Captain Hammer could not be found playing with puppets or dolls. So, so what was he going to do? He took Horrible home, with the ray-gun, and sat both of them on the table. He watched them for hours, trying to come up with something to do to them. He could zap the thing again; see if it turns him back into Horrible? But he didn’t know how the gun worked, and from the looks of it neither did Horrible. Stuff Ray, supposed to make him fat.
Hammer wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t like having to think. Because when you think, things like this happen. It was so much easier just to do. Rubbing his face he fixed himself a pot of coffee and leaned against the counter. Maybe he should give the thing back to Moist? Maybe the wet man knew something of what went wrong and could fix it? Hammer doubted it, but it was worth a shot. No, no it wasn’t. Because if anything, the Union would get on him about putting their member out of work. It was “beyond his contract” or some kind of bull shit the union liked to spit out.
He could always just pretend he didn’t know what happened to Horrible. They had their weekly fight, then he just disappeared. Sure, that could work. He could just donate the toy to some kid’s fund or whatever, make him look good. Yeah… yeah! The children’s cancer fund or something stupid like that, yeah, they’d love a Dr. Horrible doll! Or he could just throw him out.
He liked that much better.
So the thinking stopped, and Hammer leaned out of his window, aimed, and chucked the wooden doll into his neighbor’s trashcan. Perfect! Now he didn’t have to think about it.
Problem solved.
The next morning before the sun rose the trash-truck arrived right on time, lifting the grey container up emptying the recyclables into its gaping maw. Then it put the can down, driving on, oblivious to the human-turned-doll within its holdings. An hour later, Hammer woke with a jolt; he had dreamt that just as the wooden doll reached the grinder to become re-used paper, the gun wore off. Running down stairs he tossed on a pair of pants before wrenching the door open, dashing to his neighbor’s cans. They were empty. He’d never find Horrible now.
The truck rumbled on well into the day-light hours, the wooden Dr. Horrible wrapped in a plastic bag under a truck-full of junk. Were this any other time Billy would have been in heaven; tons of electronics and little do-dads to play with and make into something cool. But right now, Billy wasn’t thinking anything. By noon the back hatch opened, pouring the contents of the truck out into a heap at the dump. Seagulls flocked overhead, screaming and crowing at each other as they picked at the trash, finding nothing to their liking. They were in the wrong section; they wanted trash and got recycling instead. But it didn’t stop them from digging and trying to find something to eat. One pulled at a plastic bag when something white and large dropped out of it, scaring the feathered scavenger into flight again. Billy, or, the wooden Billy, lay tangled in his strings, face-down once again.
A group of boys turned a corner, throwing trash and gunk and heaven-knew-what at each other as they laughed up a storm. Fred ducked behind a cement slab the size of a dumpster, hearing the splats of rotten eggs hitting the side. Grinning like crazy he put his hand down to find a piece of ammo… then he took a look at what he grabbed.
“Hey! Hey guys, check this out!” He stood up, ducking back down when more eggs were thrown at him. “Cease fire cease fire! Really, dudes, check this!” Glancing around, finding there were no foul-smelling missiles coming his way, he ran out and showed off his prize.
Still white, still without a mark, Billy lay limp in the hand that had grabbed him.
“DUDE! My grandpa used to make those! They’re like puppets or something.”
“Why would someone throw this thing out? It looks brand new!”
“Bet we could make a buck off of it on Craigslist or something. Even Ebay if we’re lucky.”
“Nah, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a sacrifice to the gods.” Fred’s two friends looked at his suggestion with glee. Yes, they could so have a bon-fire tonight!
“But wait, the strings.”
“Right you are, Dan?” “Dan” pulled out a knife, taking great care to remove the strings from the puppet right down to the wood. They took great pride in their “ritual.”
“Hey! Dan, Fred, Chuck, what’s up?!” The three were like meerkats, turning their heads as Andy’s voice floated over the ocean of waste. They quickly hid the creature they were about to torture and burn right there in the garbage. They knew how much Andy loved toys, they had seen his room and his pristine amount of child-like fun.
“Nothing.”
“That’s not a nothing nothing. You’re leaving me out!”
“Duh!”
“Chuck!”
“What?”
“Spill guys.”
Chuck, who never really liked the burning of toys in the first place, snatched Dr. Horrible out of Fred’s hands and shoved it into Andy’s.
“WOAH COOL! Dude, this is the guy Captain Hammer’s beating up in my poster on my wall!”
“Huh?”
“Oh come on.” Andy rolled his eyes, stuffing Horrible in his back pocket. “You know Captain Hammer don’t you?!”
“Yeah.”
“This is his nemesis! It’s Doctor Horrible! He’s so cool.”
In the end, Andy won out; there were no rituals that evening. As the sun set, Andy dumped his backpack on the floor by his desk, pulling Dr. Horrible out of it and laying him gently on the table top. It looked so good! He fully intended on exploring his new toy when there was a knock on his door.
“Andy? We’re going to dinner, want to come?” In a flash the teen was up and out the door. The car started, and drove off. From the bed Woody lifted his head, listening to the sound of tires leaving.
“Alright everyone, they’re gone!” The room came to life, toys stirring all over the place again. They had gone to their places a few hours ago when Andy’s Mom had opened the door to vacuum. Now with everyone gone they knew they would have free-range for a while. Instantly everyone crowded around the foot of the desk. They wanted to know about the new-comer. Buzz cupped his hands together, lacing his fingers and proving a place for Jessie to get a good foot-hold. Pulling on Woody’s hand, the cow-girl hoisted her friend up onto her shoulders, where he reached the top drawer and pulled himself up. Once on top, Woody turned on the light to get a good look at the new doll. Nudging him slightly with a booted-toe, the cowboy nodded to Jessie that it was fine for them to come up.
Billy felt a shock go through him, twitching when something touched him and groaning softly. God how his head hurt! Coughing slightly he let his eyes fall closed, blinking before the world came into focus.
“Howdy!”
“AH!” Billy squeaked as the pointed-nosed man above him grinned and waved. Curling up tight Billy scuttled across the wooden top, goggles falling into his eyes.
“WHOAREYOUWHEREAMIWHATHAPPENED?!”
Buzz looked to his friends, shrugging at the antics of the man who had just hit the wall.
“Calm down, you’re okay.” Jessie knelt by the freaking mad scientist evil genius, patting his shoulder kindly. “Welcome to Andy’s room!"