The Most Popular Book in the Whole World (xlormp) wrote,
The Most Popular Book in the Whole World
xlormp

Chapter Twenty-Six, "In Which I Use a Lot of Parenthetical Statements (Just You Watch and See)"

The Most Incredible Work of Literature in the Entire Cosmos

Chapter 26, "In Which I Use a Lot of Parenthetical Statements (Just You Watch and See)"

Sable Wheefton was shorter than Lou. For a pretty long time, that's about all I could notice about him. That, and the fact that he was wearing a crown clearly crafted out of the bottom of a trash can. It had a pin on it that said, "I DO WHAT THE VOICES IN MY HEAD TELL ME TO" and then another one that said, "HALF-OFF BURRITO TUESDAY, ASK ME HOW". It looked very official and he seemed very important and stuff, but I couldn't get past how short he was. He may have even been shorter than me. And I'm a freaking GIRL for crying out loud. Kings shouldn't be shorter than girls, that's what I think.

"Sable," Wem declared sweetly, as if this man were a long-lost brother (which I'm pretty sure I would know about). It was the first time I'd actually heard the thing use a tone of voice other than scathing disgust. "I am so pleased to have you in my home. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

Sable shook his head, smiling at Lou with every part of his face and grasping my hobo's hand in his. "He's quite the charmer, isn't he, Lou?"

Lou grinned back, pleased beyond reason that he had not only the most amazing grandchildren ever, but also the affection of such a well-known royal dignitary.

"I think I'm fine, son, I'm trying to stick to a dumpster only diet these days," Sable chortled, patting his trash gut lovingly. He kind of reminded me of Santa, if Santa were a hobo and wore lots of falling apart garments and a hat made of metal and silly pins.

I felt very strange about this whole thing. I mean, this was my house, right? And my kid? And I was standing next to my alien, and my hobo was entertaining a guest being waited on by my friends and my adoring robot. So why did I feel like I wasn't part of this at all, like I was just here because they deigned to let me in? Like the crazy two-headed baby (who shouldn't even be able to speak let alone walk and smoke cigars) was running this show, and I was just the janitor or something. The janitor of life.

It felt wrong. I was supposed to be the center of attention, everyone was supposed to care about me, for crap's sake, that's how it worked. Weren't they paying attention the very first time I ever stepped foot in Spatulas? Didn't they see how dang amazing I was? Didn't I ace all of my classes like a pro? Didn't I get flowers and candy and date invites from every male lifeform at Learning Land? Wasn't I Friggen' Effing Gorgeous???

The answer to all of these questions (and more!) was of course, "yes". So why should I let a little baby run the show? I'd reached the end of my rope. If Sable Wheefton wanted to make himself at home, he would have to know exactly who's home he was making himself...at...in. Yes. That.

"Well, Sable, listen, it's awfully hot and stuffy down here, don't you think?" I spoke up, fanning myself just so he'd know how hot I really was. And guys, I was smoking hot. "Why don't we take this conversation to the living room?"

I felt every eye in the room turn to me as if I were crazy. Which I guess I was. What choice did I have, really? My husband's an alien, my kid's a two-headed devil child bent on ruining my life, and if I found myself a couple of planets away from him, I'd turn into a beeping, alien molesting freak. (Which wouldn't be so bad, really.) I had nothing left to lose.

Tabitha grimaced coldly at me, and mouthed, "What are you doing?" Klaxie threw several tentacles up in the air and swiveled around a few times. Lou grinned at me, but seemed a little hesitant to feel any particular emotion until Sable responded.

Mr. Wheefton's mouth spread into a wide semi-circle of glee. "Why, that sounds lovely! Lou, is this the daughter you adopted?"

Lou picked "chuffed" as his emotion of choice, and sputtered, "Yes, yes, this is Frig, we're very proud of her! She just got married, you know."

"Did she now?" Sable crowed, the smile never leaving his face. "Well, congratulations, Frig!" He patted me warmly on the shoulder.

There, now, that's more like it. Everyone having a lovely discussion about me. I caught Wem's eye. His face indicated that he would very much like to radiate me into a small pile of human dust, but unfortunately, he did not inherit Xlormp's laser vision. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Yeah. So, this way, everybody!" I clapped, guiding the crew away from Wemjox's ugly chair room and back onto the elevator that would take us away from the creep's little club house.

I made sure everyone had gotten on and went up, and was about to board myself, when Wemjox grasped my arm firmly. "You have no idea what you're toying with, mother," Wem said.

I stared at him. "Excuse me? What gives you the right to talk to me that way? I gave birth to you. You wouldn't exist if it weren't for me."

"WRONG," Jox's feminine voice screeched, an odd contrast to the heavy pitch I had grown used to hearing from Wem. It shocked the piss out of me.

"What?" I asked in my alarm.

"YOU played only a FRACTION of a part in order to get us here. We exist because we were supposed to exist." Her little green face looked flushed with anger. I kind of wanted to pat her and tell her it would be okay, but I mostly wanted to ram a rake through her. "You think it's all coincidence? That Klaxie just happened to have liquid baby lying around? He had that because it was meant for Monica. But then she exited the picture, and you got us instead. And if you weren't such close, personal friends with Christopher the alien huntress, we would never have come into possession of the Sploober enhanced mind."

I stared at her, waiting for her to finish, but she wasn't done yet. "Face it, mother, we are here for a purpose. You've already served yours. So go crawl under your alien, like a good girl slave, and let us do our job." She finished her speech, their joint chest heaving from the effort. Wem beamed at her, I guess proud of the progress his disgusting sister had made (verbally speaking). He nodded at me curtly, and they got onto the elevator, letting the doors close in front of me.

I seethed. I raged. I felt anger coursing from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. What a little bitch! I think I liked her better when she wasn't talking.

Fine. That's how they wanted it? They wanted to act like they were everything, like I was nothing? Then that was perfectly okay with me. I knew what had to happen. I knew exactly how things had to go down.

Wemjox had to die.

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