It surprised the absolute hell out of Meg when Marie knocked politely and opened the door an hour later. In her hands was a tray with what looked like soup and maybe a cup of tea. She wanted to ask the maid who she was and what she had done with the real Marie, but just sat up and stared instead.
Marie nodded and quietly came in to place the tray on Meg's desk with surprisingly no malice -there were no angry looks, no sarcasm, nothing. With a polite smile, the older woman left the room, leaving Meg bewildered and quiet.
Meg knew that Marie would have spoken with her Mother, but things had probably gone differently than the maid or the dog would have wanted. Her Mom probably used the line she liked when she had to apologize to her higher society friends. The one about how her innocent daughter had been through a horribly traumatic event while in the care of her pig-fucker Father and how she isn't quite stable in the head. It isn't her fault, but please don't judge and don't stare because she bites. It was degrading and insulting, but there was little Meg could do to prevent it. She knew that she deserved to be cut some slack it because after all, how many other people had been attacked and stalked by "SLA-mas" elves anyway? God knows that Marie could never understand something like that, but an order to back off probably went a long way..
The soup was one of the things Marie did exceedingly well and Meg knew it would be incredible before she even picked up the spoon. It occurred to her that if the maid ever decided to get rid of her, this would be the easiest way to do it since all she'd have to do would be to mix in some poison and simply say her employer's dysfunctional daughter must have been depressed again for the fifth time in the past hour. Fortunately, Marie probably wasn' t the homicidal type and wouldn't even dare think of such things. She was definitely into covert surveillance and mental torture however, but murder would be a stretch.
"Such is life", Meg thought as she tore into the meal. She had barely finished when there was a tap at the door and Marie came in again.
"Another package for you, miss," Marie said. She had that fake smile (a smirk?) on her face, but the eyes were as hard as frozen coal. Obviously someone was still holding a grudge about the dog and Meg wondered how the maid would feel if it had happened in her room.
"Thank you," Meg answered and traded the tray for the large package. It was wrapped with standard SLA brown postal wrap and was nearly four feet long, two feet wide, and six inches deep.
It turned out that there were actually two packages instead of one and Meg put them both onto her bed. She recognized her Father's signature (a scrawl, unlike her Mom's careful script) from one and opened it gleefully. There was no way he would ever make it here and this was probably the only contact she 'd have with him until the middle of next year. The package held an 8x10 signed print of Sour Blood from one of his latest tours and she smiled with a mix of glee and lust.
"God, he's such a hunk," she said as she fished for the note.
"Dear Meg," it said in her Father's writing. "Pulled some strings for your present. Hope you enjoy. Love, Dad."
Always to the point, her Dad never used much flowery language and seldom expressed his feelings. The fact that he said "Love Dad" meant more to her than he knew. As for the present, she was a little disappointed and couldn't help but feel guilty for expecting more. The picture was pretty cool, but it was just a standard Contract Circuit promotional shot that someone (probably one of S.B's assistants) had written "For my biggest fan, S.B." After the kind of year she had just gotten through, she felt like she deserved something more than a carbon copy promo picture of the one she got a year or two ago. At least this time, whomever signed the picture had gotten her name right.
"It's the thought that counts, right?" she said as she put the picture on her desk and looked at the doobrie. As an afterthought, she decided a little conversation would be a good thing as she opened the other package. She needed something to take her mind off things anyway and help her calm down.
"Ready to rumble," she said to the doobrie and watched as it came to life with a twitch. Standing on the shelf in full 1/12 scale bravado, the Sour Blood doobrie winked and struck a pose.
"Give it up to the King, Baby!" it said and she just laughed. God, he was so silly! It was sobering to think that she used to believe doobries could only be cute and playful, but felt it would be entertaining to have a few more running around. She reached up to the shelf and pulled selected three more - Captain Wonderful, UberSexGod, and Snake Eyes. She stood them up in front of her and leaned down to look at their eyes.
"Alright guys, DeathMatch!" she said. Each one responded in turn as they flourished their weapons and took positions in a circle.
With calls of "Who Da Man? I'm the Vunderman!", "On Your Knees and Worship Bee-yitch!", "GRRRRRRR", and "Who Wants Some?", the four doobries dove into combat. It was mindless, harmless entertainment and she sat back to watch before turning back to the other package. Shaking it lightly, she felt its weight and wondered what in hell it could be. The shipping label was smeared and unreadable from the snow and it was wrapped so securely that she couldn' t tear it open with her hands. After a few moments of pulling and clawing, she sat it back down and went to her desk for scissors. Meanwhile, the mock combat heated up behind her.
"Worship This, Snake Eyes!" USG yelled as he laid down one of his signature killing moves with a snap, sending the Carrien bouncing across the floor past her ankle without his head.
"Nice one!" she said and the USG doobrie saluted her. Captain Wonderful took advantage of his distraction and skewered him with his flick scythe, yelling a gleeful "HOOYAH!" and sending the respective sections in different directions.
Meg absently probed for the scissors as she watched their antics, but only found them after she gave up and actually took her eyes off the fight. Meanwhile, Sour Blood had doubled Captain Wonderful over with his trademark ball breaker and given him his patented head smash that her Dad liked to call a death noogie. She giggled in spite of herself as Snake Eyes got back up and bit one of USG's arms off. God, this was fun.
"Who says you have to grow up?" she asked aloud as she returned to her seat and picked up the large package.
When she realized that it was much lighter than it had been earlier, she stopped with a jolt and gently placed it back on the bed. Her heart was in her throat again and she quickly jumping up and backed up, nearly stepping onto Snake Eyes in the process. Gingerly, she prodded the package with the scissors, but nothing happened.
"T-Time out, guys," she stuttered, wanting everything quiet just in case something bad was about to happen.
"A-Okay, Meg," the quartet of toys said as they lined up behind her. They were smart enough to realize when she meant business and did without the usual "after the fight" trash talking.
She started to sit down on the bed, but the image of something going for her ankles or running up her legs was a little too fresh in her mind. Standing back, she leaned over and snipped off the straps on the side of the package and pulled. The brown paper and tape came off easily to reveal an attractive box with gold flowery patterns and snowflakes, but there wasn't any identifiable label. Taking in a breath, she thought about how close she was and could see something leaping out and onto her face, so she backed up even further and leaned in to cut the remaining tape. The lid looked loose after a couple of snips and she turned the scissors point down then flipped the lid off.
Inside was a mess of packing material and a crude note made of cut and pasted magazine parts that she had to turn with the scissors so she could read. It felt like the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped thirty degrees and when she noticed packing material had spilled out through the bottom of the box, it dropped another ten.
"mErRy sLA mAs! tiMe tO DiE mEg!" the note read.
"Oh shit," she mumbled and took a step back, hooking the box accidentally and dragging it into the floor. More packing material spilled out on her bed as the box upended and she backed up further, sensing something coming.
That was when the entire width of the bed skirt flapped upwards.
Comments to rw