Beat 78: Oh, Assist Will Work Nicely -- That Starts With A
Just seconds ago,
Deirdre looked furious enough to roundhouse-kick Lloyd’s head off his
neck. But seeing Lloyd fumble with that
quill pen turned her grimace into her typical sultry grin. “Having a bit of trouble there, boy? Come on, now -- getting into action shouldn’t
be that hard, now should it?”
Lloyd’s eyes darted
between Deirdre and the pen in his hands.
As long as Deirdre was caught in those vines, he still had some
breathing room -- at least a few seconds’ worth of it. “Er, if I could ask that you allow me a
minute or twenty to find out how to use this, I’m almost certain you’ll be
well-rewarded.”
Deirdre waved her hand,
and the vines around her legs sank into the audition room floor. “I’m coming for you, boy,” she said with a
chuckle -- and sure enough, she floated towards him at a steady clip.
“I don’t suppose this
is the feather of a silly cap?”
“Are you asking me
that?”
Lloyd’s shoulders
slumped. “I figured I might as well.”
“Lloyd Beatrice
Hoigleheimer is no man’s pet!” He turned
to the left. “Servant, yes, but
pet? Inconceivable! I don’t even have a collar, much less the fur
and tail expected of the common --”
“If it’s a collar you
want, I’d be glad to strap one on you…among other things.”
Lloyd stared blankly at
Deirdre -- and then strangled the quill with all his might. “Work!
Work! WORK, BLAST YOU! My gentlemanly heart won’t last a moment in
her grasp!” But in the midst of his
assault, he caught a glimpse of the desk, and the papers scattered across it. “Wait a moment -- of course! Am I some sort of idiot?”
“Are you asking me that?”
“Well, I’ve always
believed it’s good to have a second opini-WAIT A MINUTE! THAT WAS RHETORICAL, I’M SURE OF IT!”
“Oh. Well, as long as you’re sure, that’s what
really matters.” Deirdre eyed the desk,
and pressed a finger to her chin.
“Ooooh. I can think of about
eighty different things we can do with that table. And to that table. And what that table can do to you. Want me to give you a little taste test?”
Much as Lloyd would
have liked a free sample (preferably of some cantaloupe), he wouldn’t allow
it. Without a second or even first
thought, he spun the quill in his hand -- and he stabbed the papers with enough
force to break the average pen.
This one didn’t
break. But nearly everything else did.
Ka-CELADON!
A wave of green light burst
from the quill, rushing over Lloyd, Deirdre, and in seconds flat every last
corner of the audition room. The two
humans slid back from the force, shielding their eyes from the light; the
inanimate objects didn’t fare quite as well, with the outlines that formed them
breaking down. Disassembling. Shifting out of alignment, like pipes sliced
apart.
“What the hell did you
DO?!” Deidre asked.
“Something good, I
hope!” Lloyd answered -- all too aware that at the moment, he floated in the
air like Deirdre. The two of them
watched with mouths agape as the audition room’s parts churned and rotated;
lines that had once been a solid black took on green hues, with their innards
filling like pitchers of lemonade. But
one by one, the lines began rearranging themselves -- connecting, one after
another, with an audible snap and a visible gleam.
And then the wave
returned. It swept back toward the
quill, dragging Lloyd and Deirdre forward and downward. Deirdre landed on the ground atop one knee;
Lloyd’s forehead slammed into the desk. As
for the quill…
Lloyd lifted his head
from the desk and took in the surroundings (while ignoring his throbbing
brain). In terms of layout, nothing had
changed -- the audition room he’d come to expect still stood before him in its
usual splendor. To some extent, at
least; the colorless world he’d frequented wasn’t quite so colorless
anymore. Shades of green splashed across
the room, giving leafy props the proper pigmentation. The curtain’s lines and trim welcomed the new
paint job; though its fabric remained predominantly white, the colors were
unmistakable -- and for moments at a time, Lloyd thought he saw them shift in
the wake of some unknowable wind. The
exit, the floorboards, a number of wires, and even a few spotlights had all
taken on new hues; even Lloyd’s desk, though still mostly white, now stood on
jade legs.
And the quill
itself? The one responsible for it
all? It stood upright on the desk,
vibrating and letting loose a muted chime.
“Is this it? Is this what I’ve
been waiting for?” Lloyd asked.
Deirdre grimaced. “Are you asking me that?”
Lloyd didn’t bother
with an answer. He just seized the quill
and dragged its tip across a sheet.
--JUDGE ON--
Lloyd would have
expected a streak of ink to appear on the page.
It didn’t. A trio of circles
appeared instead -- shining green rings that spun all over the page…and a
moment later, they leapt off of it.
“What in the name of Athena’s war helmet?!” he shouted. The rings spiraled around him at top speed,
but slowed to a halt after what had to be their twentieth lap; the three of
them stopped on his left, hovering in place and waiting to be touched.
He certainly had every
reason to touch them. They weren’t just
circles anymore; they were portraits.
Three hovering photos, carrying images of people. The one on the left had a picture of Mrs.
Overdose. The one on the right,
Trixie. And atop the two of them, a
picture of --
“Madam O’Leary,” said
Lloyd. “But what are these three doing
here? Unless…could it be --?”
“You little bastard --
if you think I’m going to let you come out on top, you’re even dumber than I
thought!” Deirdre slammed a palm against
the ground -- and barely a foot away from her, a dozen thorny vines erupted
from the ground. With teeth clenched
into a canine scowl, she sent the vines rocketing forward, each one more eager
to strangle the life out of Lloyd than the last.
But Lloyd had long
since made his move. He tapped the quill
against one of the rings -- not that Deirdre could have seen it, thanks to her
thorny assault.
She could only look
dead ahead -- and watch as the thorns stopped dead. And shattered into pieces.
“What the hell?” Deirdre leapt to her feet, clenching her hands
tightly enough to bend a steel girder.
“How in the hell did you --?!”
“That’s a lot of foul
language coming from a girl your age. Is
somebody gonna have to clean your mouth out with soap?”
The shards and debris
dissipated rapidly, revealing the truth.
Lloyd had fallen back into the director’s chair, staring with wide eyes
at the once-deadly vines that had rushed his way. On his left stood a new entrant; she had a
single palm raised, and primed to hold back anything that came her way. She might have looked like every soccer mom
in the world rolled into one homogenous form, but that look on her face -- that
cocky smile, and the fire in her eyes -- would have made a pro wrestler take
pause.
Jane let loose a biting
laugh. “Or would you prefer a spanking
instead?”
“M-madam O’Leary?”
Lloyd sputtered. “What are you doing
here?”
“Didn’t I tell you to
call me Jane?” She turned toward Lloyd
-- and flashed a smile so pleasant he could feel his heart melt. “You don’t have to be so formal with me. We’re friends, after all. I’d be glad to make some more cookies for you
anytime; you’re always welcome for a visit.”
Lloyd nearly burst into
tears. “Someone’s actually being nice to
me for once?! I’d forgotten what that
feels like!”
“I’d be glad to treat
you nice, sweet cheeks,” said Deirdre.
She tried to wear her sultry grin once more, but couldn’t quite manage
it; she had to strain herself to even smile, and sweat started streaking down
her face. “Come on, now. Why don’t you leave behind that plain Jane
and have a little fun with me?”
Jane shot an eye back
at Deirdre. “What did you just call me?”
“I just called you a
plain Ja-”
Jane snapped her
fingers -- and a bar of soap the size of a honey baked ham burst from the
ceiling and lodged itself in Deirdre’s mouth.
“Learn your place, little girl,” she said with a smirk as Deirdre
writhed and scrabbled across the floor.
“Madam O’Leary? How in the world did you --?!”
Jane smiled at Lloyd,
and pointed above her crown; sure enough, the same green ring that had borne
her picture floated overhead. But it had
lost a bit of its light -- a whole segment of it looked as if it had been
sliced out, and as Lloyd stared, the dimmed segment stretched further and
further. “We’d better keep this quick,
Lloyd. You and I are working on the
clock -- but I should have more than enough time to lend you a hand.”
“But the soap, and the
thorns --”
“Please. Don’t you know who I am? I’m Jane O’Leary -- who do you think Sheila
inherited her wild imagination from? Her
father?”
Lloyd tilted his
head. “That…doesn’t explain very much.”
“All right. I’ll try to keep things simple, Lloyd. I’ll give you the information you need, and
I’ll be sure to protect you from her tricks.
You just make sure you finish her off.
That’s easy enough to understand, isn’t it?”
“Well, I suppose, but
-- but how are you doing all of this?
Even for my life, this makes no sense.”
“What’s so hard to
follow? You’re in my daughter’s
heart. You’re facing off with her
imaginary friend. You summoned me
here. And as a lonely housewife, my
imagination is ten times more powerful than the common man’s which -- coupled
with my already-incredible mind -- gives me powers rivaling the average god in
this alternate space. Easy, yes?”
Lloyd stared blankly at
her.
“This is the part where
you say ‘yes, ma’am.’ Clock’s still
ticking, sweetheart.”
“Y-yes, ma’am.” Lloyd sat up in the chair. “So simply put, you’re here to assist me in
overcoming this opponent? I thank you
for your efforts, but…” He covered his
mouth. “My goal here isn’t just to
overcome this friendly facsimile, and
certainly not to erase her outright. I
need a way to reconcile with her. I need
to bring the two halves together, and have them
reconcile in turn.”
“That’s your plan, huh?”
“Relatively speaking,
yes. But it’s proven to be a true
challenge. It seems as if every step I
take ends with rejection or failure. Try
as I might, I just can’t seem to make any progress with Miss O’Leary. I might have actually gone backwards more
than I’ve gone forward -- and if I’m to succeed here, I need to break out of
this stalemate.”
Jane folded her arms
and nodded. “So your problem is that
Sheila’s a hard nut to crack. Too hard
for even you.” She glanced around the room,
and then let loose a heavy sigh.
“Sorry. Guess I’ve put you
through a lot, haven’t I?”
“Eh? How do you mean?”
“It’s a good thing you
called me here, Lloyd. Because now, I
get to help fix the mess that I made.”
TO BE HEARTINUED…
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