Chapter Twenty-Three, "Why Did I Have Such A Weird-ass Baby?"
The Most Incredible Work of Literature in the Entire Cosmos
Chapter 23, "Why Did I Have Such A Weird-ass Baby?"
Hmm. I guess a good mother would probably tell their one- or two-day-old baby that smoking isn't such a good idea, but for some reason I didn't feel entirely maternal toward this creature. Mostly, I felt the desire to perform a series of experiments on it to see how it would react to various stimuli. And also I wanted to make out with Xlormp.
And, dude, if the kid's speaking clearly and smoking cigars, why was it such a huge friggen' deal whether I be allowed to see it or not? How much more of a bad influence could I possibly be?
"I suppose you're wondering why we decided to see you," the boy part of Wemjox said.
"Uh," I began deeply, "kind of."
He took another puff of smoke, exhaled, then fixed me with a pointed gaze. "We've been dealing with some rather traumatic separation issues. It's been hellish around here. We don't know if we even want you back in our lives, now that we've formed such a tight bond with the family that actually stayed here with us."
I knew somewhere in the back of my head that I should probably reply to some of this, but I was a little too overwhelmed to say anything. I mean, what do you say when your own baby's all like, "Listen, mom, I don't think you're a very good mom, so I hired someone else." So far, I wasn't sure how much I liked my kid. And anyway, the girl head hadn't said a dang word so far.
I pointed to her. "Um...is she going to say anything?"
The boy blew some more smoke out and shook his head. "Her trauma is so deep that she has gone mute."
I looked at the girl. She gazed back at me, eyes bleary and world-weary, and nodded.
I glanced at Xlormp and Christopher, hoping for some sort of support here, but Xlormp only shrugged while Christopher mouthed, "I told you."
"Anyway, it doesn't matter, really," the boy (whom I decided I would just call "Wem" and maybe the girl could be "Jox" and that would simplify the fact that my baby had two friggen' heads) said, stubbing out his cigar in a nearby ashtray (when did we get ashtrays?!) and placing the remainder in his pocket. "It turns out that your physical distance from us causes a lack of strength, so we have little choice but to deal with your return."
I found myself growing more than a little irritated that these kids were being all critical of my ability to parent. I mean, seriously. Like they had any life experience. I put my hands in firmly formed fists on my hips and snarled, "Listen, it's not my fault I got abducted and turned into a girl-slave right after you were born, okay? Maybe I would have been an awesome mom. You don't know. So just shut up." I felt like I might cry involuntarily, just from the effort of caring so much about their obnoxious opinion of me.
Wem pointed at me pointedly. "Yes. Don't you find it a bit odd that you're one of the only girl-slaves who can speak clear English?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "I find it a little more odd that you're, like, three hours old and speaking clear English."
Wem nodded. "Correct. That is equally odd."
"Damn straight it is," I muttered under my breath.
"Well, it's because of us that you are able to speak so clearly. And it's because of her that we are able to speak with equal clarity." When Wem said "her", he pointed at Christopher.
I glared at her. She held up her hands, saying, "The Sploobers. I thought they might help you feel less pain. Don't blame me for this, seriously."
Wemjox began circling me, Christopher and Xlormp in a creepy, unsettling way. "Yes," Wem said, "the Sploobers. They entered our brains and are now a permanent fixture. There will be no wearing off. We can affect the minds of anyone who has undergone any form of brain alteration. Including you, mother."
I thought about what he was saying. Then I thought about it some more. Then I squeezed Xlormp's butt region, because there's only so long one can be expected to contain one's self when weird baby shit is going down. Then I said, "Wait, you mean to tell me that the reason I'm such a badass girl-slave is not because I am wicked awesome, but because you two are manipulating my brain?"
"Pretty much," Wem shrugged.
"That is the lamest thing I've ever heard." I debated drop kicking Wemjox out the window and giving up to go make out with Xlormp. (I mean, come on, I'd been his girl-slave for, what, an hour? And we still hadn't made out? RIDICULOUS.) But apparently the entire household had banded together to keep this freak of nature happy. I couldn't believe everyone would just cater to its every baby-like whim. Lou? Hector 2.0? Lexington? Were they really that pathetic?
And that's about when I lost interest in the whole ordeal entirely. I turned to my sumptuous alien, the one who still made sense, and said, "This crap is too weird for me. Let's go make out already."
The Rest of the Chapters Which I Have Previously Written
Look! An early chapter! Pay no attention to those late ones behind the curtain. Look at how EARLY this one is! Holy early-pants!
Chapter 23, "Why Did I Have Such A Weird-ass Baby?"
Hmm. I guess a good mother would probably tell their one- or two-day-old baby that smoking isn't such a good idea, but for some reason I didn't feel entirely maternal toward this creature. Mostly, I felt the desire to perform a series of experiments on it to see how it would react to various stimuli. And also I wanted to make out with Xlormp.
And, dude, if the kid's speaking clearly and smoking cigars, why was it such a huge friggen' deal whether I be allowed to see it or not? How much more of a bad influence could I possibly be?
"I suppose you're wondering why we decided to see you," the boy part of Wemjox said.
"Uh," I began deeply, "kind of."
He took another puff of smoke, exhaled, then fixed me with a pointed gaze. "We've been dealing with some rather traumatic separation issues. It's been hellish around here. We don't know if we even want you back in our lives, now that we've formed such a tight bond with the family that actually stayed here with us."
I knew somewhere in the back of my head that I should probably reply to some of this, but I was a little too overwhelmed to say anything. I mean, what do you say when your own baby's all like, "Listen, mom, I don't think you're a very good mom, so I hired someone else." So far, I wasn't sure how much I liked my kid. And anyway, the girl head hadn't said a dang word so far.
I pointed to her. "Um...is she going to say anything?"
The boy blew some more smoke out and shook his head. "Her trauma is so deep that she has gone mute."
I looked at the girl. She gazed back at me, eyes bleary and world-weary, and nodded.
I glanced at Xlormp and Christopher, hoping for some sort of support here, but Xlormp only shrugged while Christopher mouthed, "I told you."
"Anyway, it doesn't matter, really," the boy (whom I decided I would just call "Wem" and maybe the girl could be "Jox" and that would simplify the fact that my baby had two friggen' heads) said, stubbing out his cigar in a nearby ashtray (when did we get ashtrays?!) and placing the remainder in his pocket. "It turns out that your physical distance from us causes a lack of strength, so we have little choice but to deal with your return."
I found myself growing more than a little irritated that these kids were being all critical of my ability to parent. I mean, seriously. Like they had any life experience. I put my hands in firmly formed fists on my hips and snarled, "Listen, it's not my fault I got abducted and turned into a girl-slave right after you were born, okay? Maybe I would have been an awesome mom. You don't know. So just shut up." I felt like I might cry involuntarily, just from the effort of caring so much about their obnoxious opinion of me.
Wem pointed at me pointedly. "Yes. Don't you find it a bit odd that you're one of the only girl-slaves who can speak clear English?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "I find it a little more odd that you're, like, three hours old and speaking clear English."
Wem nodded. "Correct. That is equally odd."
"Damn straight it is," I muttered under my breath.
"Well, it's because of us that you are able to speak so clearly. And it's because of her that we are able to speak with equal clarity." When Wem said "her", he pointed at Christopher.
I glared at her. She held up her hands, saying, "The Sploobers. I thought they might help you feel less pain. Don't blame me for this, seriously."
Wemjox began circling me, Christopher and Xlormp in a creepy, unsettling way. "Yes," Wem said, "the Sploobers. They entered our brains and are now a permanent fixture. There will be no wearing off. We can affect the minds of anyone who has undergone any form of brain alteration. Including you, mother."
I thought about what he was saying. Then I thought about it some more. Then I squeezed Xlormp's butt region, because there's only so long one can be expected to contain one's self when weird baby shit is going down. Then I said, "Wait, you mean to tell me that the reason I'm such a badass girl-slave is not because I am wicked awesome, but because you two are manipulating my brain?"
"Pretty much," Wem shrugged.
"That is the lamest thing I've ever heard." I debated drop kicking Wemjox out the window and giving up to go make out with Xlormp. (I mean, come on, I'd been his girl-slave for, what, an hour? And we still hadn't made out? RIDICULOUS.) But apparently the entire household had banded together to keep this freak of nature happy. I couldn't believe everyone would just cater to its every baby-like whim. Lou? Hector 2.0? Lexington? Were they really that pathetic?
And that's about when I lost interest in the whole ordeal entirely. I turned to my sumptuous alien, the one who still made sense, and said, "This crap is too weird for me. Let's go make out already."
The Rest of the Chapters Which I Have Previously Written
Look! An early chapter! Pay no attention to those late ones behind the curtain. Look at how EARLY this one is! Holy early-pants!