Horse-Face let loose a blood-curdling scream as he thrashed about on his bed. He struggled to break free of his bindings, to no avail.
At the foot of the bed, The Builder stood watching. They remained expressionless when he tried to jerk his right arm enough to break his confinement apart.
The efforts were in vain. Horse-Face shouted until his voice grew tired. Then his screams became little more than whimpers.
(This could have probably had a better ending, but…feh.)
“Okay, so you were freaked out by a TV episode. Was it really that bad?”
“Yes, it was! I couldn’t get a good night’s sleep for weeks. I was worried that Dad might, you know…”
Sinbad deeply sighed. “I don’t think your Dad’s going to turn you into a chimera. Like, not when you were nine, and definitely not now.”
Shark groaned. “True. Still. He may not go that far, but sometimes I get worried. Like, does he actually care, or is he just going through the motions that he does?”
(This was going to be just one chapter, but it got a bit too long for my tastes)
“I want appetizers, Dad!”
“Child, those can go up to ten dollars! Can’t you cut it just this once?”
So far, father-daughter bonding night was a disaster. All Lolly had done the whole night was complain about what she was doing with her father.
“But I’ve always gotten appetizers when we lived at the mansion! Grandma would always order them first thing when we got here.”
Dennis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your grandmother also once tried to sell you for a can of tuna and a pack of smokes. I wouldn’t trust that woman.”
He really wanted to be home, making sure his son wouldn’t do anything drastic in his absence. He also knew, however, that doing so could result in his daughter pitching a fit.
Realizing she’d persist in this, he sighed and leaned onto his arm. “Which one you want…?”
A phone call was what brought Dennis away from the enviable location he was in. Getting down to the floor, he looked for his pants that had been amazingly thrown into the hallway.
“Now that’s some distance you got there, whichever one of you threw that!”
“And ironically, I just want to be a writer,” Alma remarked to Blaise. They listened in as he answered his phone.
He peeked back into the room. “Hope you ladies don’t mind if I take this call downstairs.”
(WARNING! Foreshadowing of threesome, beginnings of intercourse, Uncle Bill, and probably some other really confusing shit)
“Blaise, where’s the toilet paper? There isn’t any in the bathroom.” Dennis quietly listened in on the two women downstairs. He patiently sat at the edge of the bed, waiting.
“It’s under the sink!”
Blaise repeated herself, louder this time. “Look under the sink! I think that’s where I put it!”
Taking a glance behind him, he found admiration in noticing the bed was actually two small ones pushed together.
“Now, that’s interesting,” he said to himself as he pressed a hand in between the mattresses.
(Apologies for the poor quality: The camera on this laptop doesn’t seem to be the greatest)
I contemplated putting glitter on the stars, but then decided that would probably make the picture look gaudy.
As for the characters themselves: Shark looks like he somehow expanded his back, and Sinbad looks like he got his forearm cut off.
Meh. It’s actually one of the better things I’ve done, so I probably shouldn’t complain too much.
(I would’ve posted this earlier, but I guess I got distracted by Theathrythm: Final Fantasy: Curtain Call. Anyway, I suppose working on this would be good, considering I’ve already acquired a growing hatred for the EMS songs…)
Sinbad had been massaged and back-rubbed into a state of bliss. He now sat at the end of the bed, feeling Shark’s feet pressing up against him.
“Jeez. Now I wished I’d brought flowers, or something.” He craned down his sight as far as he could. “I hope those things are clean.”
“They are.” Shark then wrapped his legs around Sinbad’s waist. “And don’t worry about it. I know you’re not really into the mushy stuff.”
He then felt Sinbad’s warm hands take hold of his feet, gently weaving his fingers in with his toes.