Hi everybody! I know it's been a while since I've updated this fanfic, and I hope this next chapter covers some unanswered questions. R and R once more!
When we lost track of our master and mistress' whereabouts, I was officially branded as the leader for a reluctant and temporary mission beyond comfort zones. And no matter what Lampy or even Kirby had to say about it, we made it to them and started our brand new lives in contentment.
Now, judging Blanky's hold on my left arm, I knew I was playing the same old role once again. That is, if Lampy and Radio are alright and safe from any other dangers. Something about those crooks back there spelled immediate assistance, but I had no idea who to go to. Even if I did, what good would it do?
"Pardon me, sir…we've just been transformed into humans and we we're once active appliances in our master and mistress' home by a croaking frog. Is there anything you can do for us?" I may be considered obnoxious by some of my fellow friends and neighbors, (one who plagues me today who's rage resulted in a steamy blowout,) but I'm not that naive. Any of those humans minding his or her own lives wouldn't give us a second glance for such a ridiculous excuse. The whole dilemma was supernatural, and I barely believed the exchange between Paddy and us myself.
"Look Toaster!" Blanky's hands gripped each other in glee and he released my arm. My back muscles relaxed in relief, and my legs stopped shaking. What would it take to slice my love and hate from the grip of a good friend? He meant well, and I was absolutely sure of that. Although, I feared for his life and mine.
"It's Radio….with some girls…."
"What are the odds of that," Kirby snickered from behind us. I gave him my most irritated expression, yet he could only shrug his shoulders and step toward Radio. "Hey R-" My hands made contact with his mouth in a desperate attempt to seal our identities.
"Are you out of your mind?!"
"What's eating you?" His eyes rested on my hands, and I quickly pulled away with a squeak. Needless to say, Kirby was still the most intimidating friend of the group, even when reduced to the age of a human…whatever age we all seemed to be.
"You know I'm doing what's best for the group and those girls could help us." The vacuum proved his level of experience once again, and I stubbornly sighed at our full predicament.
"Fine just don't mention our appliance names," I pleaded with my hands clasped. It was rather interesting, mimicking the movements my master made at breakfast hour once upon a time.
"So these are your buddies?" My eyes widened and I shivered uncontrollably as two familiar faces came into full view in front of the short man who was supposedly Radio. They seemed to recognize me as well and awkwardly grinned at the guys and I.
"We were just talking about you and your…team," the girl with curly blonde hair- Lauren it was- patted Radio's back in a friendly gesture. "He's been struck scared and we told him we met someone who met his descriptions." Beside Lauren, the short man gave us a sheepish smile, and I wished for a moment that darn radio's antennae tracked down the meaning of the word 'secrecy.'
On Radio's other side, Chris remained as silent as stone. I guess silence was the best option for a mistress without her master and having to deal with four-no five new faces. And on that note, even with Lampy missing in this scene, Radio might've not been the Radio we were hoping for. Judging by his demeanor and twitchy ears, a wave of recognition was far from passive. And even if the traits didn't seem to click, something inside pulsed smoothly and told me this guy was Radio. Yet on a less forbidden, more sensible side of my thoughts, I was informed this man was not Radio at all and I should remain more cautious like Kirby.
My eyes seemed to reach the back of my mind, and my ears managed to stop working for a moment of thoughtless bliss. And as I felt my legs slip into the loss of self control, I heard my master's voice and reddish hair sweep my vision.
"Stairs are for girls without tongues. Today is the day when I prove to Mom I'm not going to be kicked around in one home!"
"My head…." It felt as painful as having your bright lightbulb crushed right in front of your face. Believe me, no lamp would desire to experience something as unambiguously painful as that. Pain is in the appliance's eyes at the same exact level as beauty, in the eye of the beholder.
Speaking of beauty and pain merged in one's eyes, a flash of radiant brown drifted past me, and I had no choice but to cower. She could've been prancing around as a witch out for…light bulbs.
My phobias are definitely not questionable to my sanity, and Kirby only says such hateful things because he has never known what it's like to be a sensitive reading lamp. Besides, on the days when Radio refers to me as a 'drama queen,' I am fully aware and prepared to face the fact I'm living with posing appliances with their own flaws.
Yet even an understandable lamp such as I would realize we're all closer together now than we've ever been after finding our master and mistress. Kirby's not as short-tempered, Radio's minding his antics, Blanky's acting more mature, Toaster's not as questionable as a leader, and I'm less judgmental and cowardly. And after some time in that reclusive cabin, I began to sum up all of the evidence as to where we stand; a family is a family no matter what.
Speaking of my 'family' and where my own place was at that time, I was just scatterbrained. How did I end up in such a spacey apartment, (at least that's what I assumed it was,) with a girl who's inexorable energy matched a human child's? I desperately needed to speak to a friend I knew, or at least someone who appeared to have more sense than this jumpy girl!
Suddenly, the smiling girl met nose to nose with me. Her long, golden brown hair flowed gently down her back and her big grey eyes flashed gaily at me. "Oh my gravy! Oh my gravy!" She squealed and hopped over my shrunk form on the lobby's lime green coach. "My gravy for Mother's biscuits! And the hot cocoa!"
"I'm assuming…" My eyes scanned the disorganized disarray of sticking silverware, china, paper plates, coffee cups, and saucers all rounded around a huge server of gravy and coffee maker and stained microwave. "…you work? Here? At this apartment?" The city dump looked more relaxing than this place; the desks held piles of laundry and paperwork, stains on the rugs were practically visible and tangible, a stench similar to raw onions and outdated cheddar cheese filled my nostrils- What?!
My mind swarmed at the discovery unreached, and I shakily reached for the grey-eyed woman humming peacefully while stirring her batch of biscuit dough. "Do you-you have a mirror?"
"Sir, if you would wait a moment…I shall reach up to either rooms E1008 or K125 for the closest handheld mirror reserved-"
"How do you me- Oh never mind! I'll get it myself!" In frustration, I glanced at what appeared to be her employment uniform. For an employee, she looked rather young. Half of her hair was tied in a thin string of a messy bun and her blue overalls reached the tips of her toes. A large white t-shirt settled underneath her overalls, and a clipped tag read 'Hazel' on her right breast pocket. I had never been an expert on human services and have only visited one human apartment once with the master about four years ago, but I remembered the employees and their shiny black shoes. This girl didn't even wear socks.
"Can I get you a drink sir? Sir?" I ignored Hazel and gazed into the glassy doors of the active….the name slipped my tongue…elevator, that's what it was! But what I beheld made the muscles of my limbs go limp. A man with wild blonde hair, amber eyes, and porcelain skin stared back at me in complete horror, and the hands- my hands shook until I blacked out.
You know, I shall make an amendment to my parodies of horror because I'm living the horror as I described to you how we were found. Our master paled before the mistress, and a part of me wished to zap back into the annoying radio three decades old. Come to think of it, I felt more alive before my fellow Americans than I've ever felt since Kirby told me my real age. As we all piled into master's jeep, I gazed intently and thoughtfully at three out of four of my pals.
Kirby, who was an old grump before he got to our friendly sides, looked as young as Blanky. They were both frowning and solemnly fixing the blame on me. Only during the ride, Kirby was the blamer through his glares sent in my direction, and Blanky was the blamer while shaking his head and staring at Toaster. Toaster looked around our young ages, too. She snored and tossed occasionally in a troubled sleep, and guilt rested on my small shoulders.
I really didn't mean for any of us to get hurt just by getting up. What was the full plan anyway, wait for Mr. Two-timing-peg-leg to save our chords and switches and minds for another round of voodoo? How was I supposed to know how Toaster was going to react to the master and mistress? I knew we all we're clueless as to what our new forms had in store for us. And you know what? I had an perturbing itch on my back on the whole ride!
Our master pulled up to our cabin's driveway and helped Lauren support Toaster. The mistress, scowling, followed them with the master's other friend, and I sticked to the two old slow pokes.
"Hazel! I'm home!"
How convenient, as first customer is a first man to hide before your mother skips on home. As I heard her quick legs dart up the stairs, ( mother never ever took the elevator,) I dragged the heavy guy in the lobby's janitor closet and was forced to kick his sticking left leg back into the closet.
As I was praying he had enough oxygen throughout his state, Mother entered briskly into the lobby with his nose high in the air. "Oh darling!-" She sniffed the air with a deep frown, and my back touched the janitor's closet. "Someone forgot to use her perfume bottle. And dear, the date with Jeff went wonderful. Now I must take a nap now, and I expect coffee with no sugar."
"Got it Mom! That's swell, Mom! Have a fantabulous nap, Mom!" Once her heel clicking was entirely out of my earshot, I opened the closest for the unconscious stranger. "Guess that trip will have to wait. Well at least she's out of my hair for the moment!"
I hope that answers at least some questions, and I'll try to update more when I can!