Another gift, you say? Whoever could it be from, we hope you enjoy it Mazzablue and thanks for helping us out with the Story Locator year round!
Day 19: A Gift for Mazzablue from the Queen of Area V
Of Sequins and Feathers
Sookie let out a relieved sigh when she pulled up outside the old farmhouse. She had never been happier to see her beloved home than right in that moment. After weeks of working double shifts, covering for anyone who had as little as a stubbed toe, she was more than ready for a few days off. Why everyone believed she was okay covering their shifts at only a moment’s notice, Sookie didn’t know. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, she did know. She knew all too well what her dear co-workers thought of her. She didn’t need to be a telepath to know they all saw her as little more than a doormat, someone they could take advantage of, and basically treat like crap. Unfortunately, the blonde beauty was a telepath who could hear all their ugly thoughts.
“Oh, to be normal for a night,” Sookie said, the words barely above a whisper, even though no one else was around to hear, or at least that was what she thought.
Her nearest neighbor as well as bitter and twisted ex, Bill Compton, had scurried off like the dirty weasel he was several nights earlier. He had made a big song and dance of how he was giving Sookie some time to heal from the pain of their recent (and in Sookie’s opinion, very celebrated) break-up, so she would finally be able to understand what he did, he had done because he loved her so much… And when did fuckin’ someone else constitute an act of love?… She would finally realize her anger was unjustified and return to him, at which point, he would forgive her. At least, that’s what Sookie thought he said. In truth, she had tuned him out about a minute after he started waxing pathetically. It was a good thing she had; otherwise, she might have been tempted to stake the sideburn-wearing fucker, and she didn’t need that on her conscience or, more to the point, she didn’t need his sticky, exploded, vampire ass all over her porch.
Vampire remains were a bitch to remove! She had learned that after staking the vampire ho with whom she had caught Bill fucking around, messy, but, oh, so rewarding. Sookie felt a tingle in her nether regions while she recalled shoving a thick stake deep into the bleached blonde, Paris Hilton-wannabe, vampire. What vampire in their right fuckin’ mind wants to be like Paris Hilton? I did that skanky bitch a favor. Ha! At least she got some good wood before she exploded!
However, unbeknownst to the telepathic blonde, a lone figure had been watching her from the darkness of the woods that surrounded the old Stackhouse property. The mysterious figure, robed in one of the most over the top outfits known to mankind, had been watching Sookie for days, could see how put upon the young woman was, and had decided to finally step in and do something about it.
The individual was by no means a good Samaritan. In fact, she loathed being helpful, happy, and all the shit that went with being nice. Nice was not good in her books; it was fake and annoying and all things she associated with her goody two-shoes sister. The favored daughter could fart rainbows and blind people with her dazzling smile…although, blinding people with a smile could be fun, she thought, imagining all the irritating assholes she could blind by simply smiling at them. Lots and lots of fun…that would only piss off the fun, free fucker who thought himself King though, so better not to blind people, after all. No, she would settle for being mean-spirited and slightly crazy. Crazy wasn’t nice, it wasn’t normal, crazy was F-U-N in big, capital letters.
“Whowantstobenormal?” She asked, the words blurring together as she spoke at a fast, gibbersh pace while she stepped out of the darkness and approached the startled blonde. She grinned at Sookie, tickled that she had managed to sneak up on the telepath without being detected.
Sookie eyes widened comically once they landed on the strangely, familiar-looking, yet at the same time, completely unknown woman. I’m hallucinating, the telepath thought while she ran her disbelieving eyes over the colorful-looking stranger. I’ve gotta be. I’ve finally lost it, call in the men with the padded jackets and white van. Sookie Stackhouse has finally lost her fuckin’ mind! It was the only thing Sookie could think of to explain the woman standing before her dressed in a pair of green sequin hot pants, black, see-through top with a bright, orange bra underneath it, and bright pink go-go boots. Still, none of that disturbed Sookie. Sure, it hurt her eyes to look at, in her mind, the hallucinatory figure, but what made her eyes almost pop out of her head was the elaborate peacock headdress she also wore. That thing was both beautiful and painful to look upon! She looked like a colorful hooker with a bird fetish.
“Ya not real, right?” Sookie asked, striking up a conversation with her imaginary friend. She heard voices in her head constantly, so speaking to someone she didn’t believe was real wasn’t so crazy to Sookie. Crazy is as crazy does. “I mean, I’m imaginin’ all this, yeah? The smell of stale beer and greasy burgers finally sent me to crazy town…”
“I am very real. I’m the most real person you’re ever gonna meet,” she replied, giving Sookie a firm and unyielding look.
“Peacock hooker,” quotin’ Nick Fury,” Sookie said, nodding her head slightly while she listed off her imaginary stranger’s traits. “Yeah, you’re the realest, so very real. Have I inhaled Jane Bodehouse’s eau de alcohol and toxic B.O scent, and passed out in the storeroom? Maybe Sam turned into Lassie, bit me, and now I’ve got rabies. Or… Oww,” she cried out, rubbing her forehead where her not-so-nice imaginary friend had suddenly flicked her. “What the fuck’s wrong with ya?! Ya can’t go round flickin’ people like that!”
“Stop saying stupid shit and I’ll stop flicking you,” she replied, flicking Sookie once again. She giggled creepily when Sookie tried to slap her hand away. “You’re crazy, but I’m real, but crazy is fun! I like crazy. It’s real, like me, I’m real…”
“And evidently, crazy,” Sookie interjected, watching the young-looking and apparently, real, woman bounce on her toes in front of her.
“Yep, and crazy,” she agreed. “Can’t forget crazy; that’s the most important thing. Name’s Gladiola, and I’m here to show you the error of your ways.”
“The error of my ways,” Sookie parroted, her eyes taking on a faraway look as she contemplated whether she should stay or run screaming for the woods. She shook the thought away, knowing it wouldn’t do much good if she ran. Sookie had a feeling the woman, Gladiola, would only follow her. “Have I stumbled into “A Christmas Carol?” Cause, I gotta say, my name’s not Ebenezer Scrooge and you sure as Hell ain’t Jacob Marley and if any ghosts try to visit me t’night, I’ll find a way to slap their ghostly faces. I ain’t…” she trailed off after she noticed an evil, or as the pretty peacock would claim, mischievous glint enter Gladiola’s eyes.
“Ooh, “A Christmas Carol”,” Gladiola gushed, overcome with emotions and ideas although, Sookie couldn’t tell if they were good emotions, or an, ‘I want to do something incredibly bad,’ idea. “We should dress up as ghosts and go haunt all the annoying and hypocritical shits who live in this dumpster of a town. Let’s start with the redheaded, walking STD you work with. We can pretend we’re the ghosts of her ex-husbands, or the baby she gave up. It’ll be fun…”
“No, it won’t,” Sookie cried, cutting Gladiola off before she put her foolish idea into practice. It did sound kinda fun, Sookie admitted to herself, but she couldn’t do it. It would be cruel, fucking amazing, but still cruel. “Her ex-husbands and the baby ain’t even dead. They’re not ghosts.”
“What does that matter? It’s not like she’ll care anyway. If you want to have fun, my-wants-to-be-normal friend, then you’ve gotta ignore little things like facts, truths, and the law…” Gladiola nodded her head and gave Sookie her most serious look as she imparted her sage wisdom. “Always the law. It’s only a suggestion anyway.”
“No, it’s not,” Sookie replied, her words coming out slow as if she was speaking to someone who didn’t have all their mental faculties. “The law is…”
“Boring!” Gladiola cried exultantly, darting past Sookie toward the farmhouse. “The law is boring, but you know what’s not boring?” She threw the question over her shoulder while she leapt onto the porch in a move that should have been near impossible in the boots she wore. “Me!” She answered before Sookie even had a chance to open her mouth. “I’m never boring, neither are parties, and I know someone who’s throwing one tonight, and we, My Big Bubble of Sparkly Light, are going to it.”
“I’m not goin’ to a party with you,” Sookie declared firmly, crossing her arms over her chest as she moved closer to the porch steps. “I don’t know you…”
Gladiola paused on the porch and turned to face Sookie. “I told you, my name’s Gladiola,” she replied like it meant all the difference and, to Gladiola, it did. She had introduced herself, told Sookie why she was there, told her what they were going to do, so in the slightly deranged woman’s head, that made them friends.
“I don’t know anythin’ about you,” Sookie continued, ignoring Gladiola’s rather weak counter-argument. “For all I know, you could be an escaped mental patient.” It certainly made more sense than anything else Sookie could dream up. “Or a serial killer…”
Gladiola gave Sookie a look that screamed, ‘You’re being stupid.’ “Yeah, I’m a serial-killing, escaped mental patient, who wants to kill you as gruesomely as possible, and then chop you into bite-size pieces. Still, before I do all that, we’re going to the party…”
“There’s no need for sarcasm,” Sookie replied dryly. “You’re a complete stranger to me. It’d be crazy for me to go off to some party with ya.”
“Yes, but we’ve already established crazy is fun. So, quit worrying and be crazy with me,” Gladiola invited before spinning on her ridiculously high-heeled boots, opening the front door, and waltzing into Sookie’s home. “It’s party time!”
“I’m not going to a party with you,” Sookie yelled when Gladiola disappeared from her view. “I’m not going to a party with her,” she repeated to herself. “I’m not…” The telepathic blonde hovered in her spot for several long seconds before tossing her arms up and cursing, “Ah, to Hell with it.” She jogged quickly up the steps and into the farmhouse.
Sookie had been good and somewhat respectable for most of her life, believing she had to be the best daughter and granddaughter she could be to make up for her little gift. However, even if it was just for one night, Sookie wanted to say, ‘To Hell with all that.’ She wanted to let her hair down and have some fun. It was crazy, she was acting crazy, but as Gladiola said, ‘Crazy is fun.’
And if Gladiola is a serial killer and kills me gruesomely, I’ll come back as a ghost and suck her peacock ass through the TV…and then haunt everyone in this judgmental town!
“Let’s get crazy!”
AN EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS TO THE QUEEN OF AREA V FOR GIFTING MAZZABLUE WITH THIS STORY. THERE WILL BE MORE CHAPTERS TO THIS OVER THE NEXT COMING DAYS. DO LEAVE YOUR COMMENTS AND LIKES AS ALWAYS THEY DO END UP WITH THE QUEEN OF AREA V!
MISSED A POST? YOU CAN FIND ALL THE POSTS OF THE ADVENT CALENDAR SO FAR, HERE.
FOLLOW OUR TWITTER FEED AND/OR FACEBOOK PAGE TO KEEP TRACK OF ALL THE UPDATES FROM THE WRITERS IN THE FA DIRECTORY. BOTH PAGES ARE VISIBLE TO ANYONE WITHOUT LOGGING IN/SIGNING UP, EVEN WITHOUT AN ACCOUNT TO EITHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORM.
DISCLAIMER: ALL PUBLICLY RECOGNIZABLE CHARACTERS, SETTINGS, ETC. ARE THE PROPERTY OF THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS. THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS AND PLOT ARE THE PROPERTY OF THE AUTHOR. THE AUTHOR IS IN NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH THE OWNERS, CREATORS, OR PRODUCERS OF ANY MEDIA FRANCHISE. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED.