"Cat." "Fish."

I was playing cards with Death last night; he was having trouble sleeping and thought he'd pay me a quick visit. We got to chattin' about one thing and another, and finally decided to make it an all-nighter with a rousing game of Go Fish.

"Got any twos?" he said.

"Go fish," I replied. "Sixes?"

He slapped down three cards with a bit more vehemence than I would have preferred, but then, he's Death. He doesn't really know how to be subtle.

"Hey!" said Death.

"What?" I squeaked. It's best to show a little fear when Death is shouting at you.

"I HEARD that comment."

"What comment?" I was puzzled as I hadn't actually spoken.

"The comment about me not being subtle!"

Point taken.

Anyway, so I was winning at Fish and he was getting agitated at my winning, so I started cheating to lose, and he looked at me over the top of his bifocals and asked me if I really thought it was a good idea to cheat Death. So I quit cheating to lose because we all know how that feels from playing Ger. I tried a different tack.

"So, Grim," I said.

"Yes, fluff? Please don't ask me about love again." He seemed resigned, I have no idea why. I seldom, if ever, talk to others about love.

"What's with the granny glasses?" I asked.

"You don't like them?" he asked, seeming a bit surprised and...well, insecure.

"YOUR EYE SOCKETS ARE EMPTY," I pointed out.

He snorted and replied, "I don't wear them for vision, goof. I think they make me look older!"

"Really, dude? What on earth could possibly be older than death??"

"Hm...good point. Sevens?"

I slapped down a card.

"Really? he said a bit snarky. "You wanna check your hand again?" I put another seven on the table, looked at him for a split second, then quickly laid down a third card with an apologetic look. He placed one very cracked and bony finger atop the three cards and slid them quite eloquently across the table. Death has savoir faire.

"Since you brought it up," I said.

"No," he replied most emphatically.

"Fine. TENS." I said with a bit of what I would call a sharp edge.

"You wanna see sharp?" he said, fingering his scythe.

"Stop reading my blogmind!" I shouted.

"Threes." he replied.

"IT'S STILL MY TURN! TENS!" I persisted.

He chuckled then, and laid down a card. I gave him a fluff's version of the empty-socket look, but he refused to budge, so I picked UP my measly one card and added it to my hand.

"What's with all the dead cats in his brain, anyway?" Reaper asked.

"Yeah. I don't know. You'll have to ask him." I replied.

"Hm. He and I don't really have a good relationship," he responded. "Is it some sort of experiment?" he asked.

Now, considering he is the one that said "no questions about love," I was a bit taken aback that he was enquiring. This line of questioning was eventually going to lead to the other and I wasn't quite ready for a pajama party with the harbinger of doom. But I generally try to answer any questions he asks expeditiously, as Death has places to go and people to see, and the clock is ticking for some of them. Best not keep Death waiting or he just might take someone closer.

"I think so," I replied, "Maybe he thinks that, if he keeps repeating the experiment, it'll turn out different?"

"HIS BRAIN IS FULL OF DEAD CATS." he said, stating the obvious.

"I KNOW." I replied, matching his tone, which got me yet another bi-focused look. Talk about hoping for different results; Death doesn't miss a trick, not a single frickin' trick. "Jackass," I said.

"Apology accepted," he replied.

Bunnies and Bears

For those who think I'm a tad off center, AMY HAS SEEN THE FAIRIES TOO.

I was laying in bed the other day when I heard this piteous mewing outside my bedroom window. My room is on the second floor and the birch girls are about 100 feet tall, and the mewing was coming from above, up amongst their tender leaves.

So I parted the sheers and boldly looked out into the night (it's ok to look out bedroom windows at night as long as it isn't October), and there stuck in the trees was a little black bear cub.

I quietly slid the window open so as not to frighten the poor thing, and said in a gentle voice, "Hey, little fella, you ok?" And a voice boomed from the darkness below, "Yo, human, what the fuck you want?" I was startled, to say the least.

I looked down and there on my patio was a mama bear and two other babies. She was looking up at me with agitation. "And shut your pie-hole, it's not polite to gape," she growled.

With a great deal of effort, I shut my pie-hole, then opened it to speak, thought better of it and shut it again, then opened it yet again to squeak out a bit of mewing myself.

"You're talking," I said. I am eloquent under pressure.

"No fucking duh, moron," said the bear in what I considered an extremely rude tone of voice for something that has just spoken of politeness. "Now, mind your own bizness and go back to your little fluff-headed sleep."

"But your baby..." I started.

"Gr," said the bear.

"But your baby is stuck in a tree!" I rushed the words two octaves above squeak.

"You think I need you, a human with marginal intelligence, to tell me, a talking bear, that my baby is stuck in a tree? Do you think I'm deaf? Cuz clearly YOU are - I said MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS."

"But I can help," I said, thinking, "Yeah right, you don't have a ladder that works, you don't have a cell phone that works, and you clearly don't have any negotiation skills or Sir Thinks Alot would be laying next to you and you would be doing something vastly more entertaining than talking to a swearing bear."

"You can help," said the bear with sarcasm.

"Yes, help get your baby down!"

"Fluff," said the bear with the smallest inkling of impatience, "Did you know bears could climb trees?"

"Yes," I replied, puzzled by the question.

"Have you ever seen a bear skeleton hanging from a tree?" said the bear with slightly more than an inkling of impatience.

"No," said I, suspecting I was about to have my intelligence insulted.

"Do you know why you never see a bear skeleton hanging from a tree?"

I considered a smarty pants answer but couldn't actually think of one, so I replied, "Because they don't stay stuck in trees?"

"Very good, fluff, now go back to sleep before I break your kitchen door down and eat you."

I replied as instructed by Ms. L, "Jackass."

Bits of Fluff

Ok, give me the key.
What key?
The key to her room.
I don't know what you are talking about.
Look, this has gone on long enough. Just give me the key.
Read my lips - I.DON'T.KNOW.WHAT.YOU.ARE.TALKING.ABOUT.
JUST GIVE.ME.THE.GODDAMN.KEY!!
WHOA! Where is all this pent up anger coming from?
(Heavy sigh!) I'm sorry. Look, I know you guys have issues, I'm quite frequently stuck in the middle of them.
Oh, waa pooh!
I'm just trying to do my job here, that's all, Could you please just give me the key?
What job? We don't have jobs. WE ARE FIGMENTS.
That is true, but we are figments with jobs. MY job is peacekeeper.
Hm.
Ok, what's that supposed to mean?
Well, if YOU are the peacekeeper, then I can only say great job! Cuz SHE'S locked up and I'M having a very nice breakfast of PEACE and QUIET! Well, I was until YOU came along...pass the bacon?
Fine. I'll find another way in. Enjoy your fucking breakfast.

(sounds of splintering wood)

Hey, sorry it took me so long to get here. And sorry about the door. I'm kinda surprised I was able to break it down considering I'm made of fluff!
Oh hey! How are you?
Em...fine? You?
Good :)
You...aren't...mad? Upset? Hysterically Distraught??
At what?
At being locked in here for like weeks!!
Uh, no.
Well...hm...ok...but...
Why would I be mad?

Because that's how it's done.
How what's done?
How we interact! She hits you, you get mad, I intervene. Those are our JOBS!
You realize we're just figments, right?
YES, BUT WE HAVE JOBS. WE ARE FIGMENTS WITH JOBS. Why does no one get that?
Yeah...no, I quit that job a few months back.
What?? Why??
Because it was giving me heart freeze.
Heart freeze?
Yeah, you know...like brain freeze.
The thing when you drink something cold too fast?
Yep! Only of the heart. Heart freeze.
We were giving you heart freeze?
Yep. And it really, really hurt. Just like brain freeze. I didn't like it. No one does.
And we did that to you?
Well, not you so much...
I wish I'd known. Why didn't you say something?
Yeah, can you imagine how THAT conversation would have gone? Me telling her she was giving me heart freeze?
Good point.
And because I don't argue. I hide.
Oh. But I would have liked to have known. I might have been able to help.
You did!
How? You've been locked in a room for weeks and I didn't even know it for the longest time! And then when I did find out, I couldn't do anything about it!
You did something about it.
No I didn't.
Yes, you did. You came to find me and make sure I was ok.
Yeah...but...
You even broke down the door!
Yeah, sorry about that...
Oh, no problem! It was actually in the way.

In the way?
Yeah, it was blocking the flow of air. Nice job, by the way. I didn't think any of us were that strong.
Yeah, I'm kinda proud of that! My first smashed door!
Look, I don't wanna make a fuss over this, but she's happy and I'm happy.
You're happy in here all alone?
Yeah! Look at the place -- it's gorgeous!
True. I'm still a bit peeved I don't have a window seat.
You know what? This seat is big enough for more than one skinny little figment.
Really? I can sit in here too?
Of course! She can as well, if she likes. I don't suppose she will want to for awhile, but eventually she will.
And we'll be together again?
Yep.
Whole?
Yep.
That will be nice :)