Oh good you’re here. I’m not feeling like my right self, dear reader. I’m uncertain of what’s happening. I could use a couple of things from the store – you know, if you’re out and about. But let me back up for a moment.
Mr. DingleWaddles came home to find me lying on the floor. The blood cross – oh curses – half finished.
You know what a half finished blood cross is don’t you? It’s just a stupid line!
In my case not even a straight one. Just some trivial goop. People could mistake the spatter for not even being deliberate! “Oh, anyone could have bled that…”
Yuck. So disappointed. Anyway.
In the middle of the day, my stomach decided to invert and attempt what I can only assume are internal gymnastics. The tumble had me face down begging my tile floor for mercy. So embarrassing in front of Mr. DingleWaddles.
He’s such a distinguished Canada Goose. Looked so sharp in his bright red skinny tie today. And here I am laying on the floor while he is forced to look at this trite – washed up even – community hex manager, notorious for the failed Magnus Ascension Homily.
Lucky for me, we’ve been roommates for years.
He waddled over after a brief ruffle for the adjustment of his tie (suchhhhh a fine tie). With the dexterity of an Olympic gymnast (in comparison, my stomach took silver and he took gold) he leveraged his lower mandible and rolled me face up. He looked down and we made eye contact for slightly longer than socially acceptable.
Sharp pains this time. Knives in my stomach. No, not the razor blades I’ve been swallowing for emergency use.
Frazzled, yet still steeled in his composure, he made his way over to my pitiful line on the ground. What was he doing? I managed to evoke an inquisitive gargle from the remnants of my stomach.
Cool and decisive, Mr. DingleWaddles pecked at his – gorgeous – red tie. The silky and flattering neck-garnish slid easily from his nape to come to a rest on the floor. With the back toe on his webbed foot, he slid the tie across the unremarkable tile to complete the cross.
Reader – seriously take a moment to appreciate your friends in your present reality.
The blood imbued within his tie resonated with the blood line, and the area where the cross was marked set ablaze. A controlled fire. Mostly blue with subdued licks of orange and yellow. Beneath, the red tie began to fray and the blood line began to bubble.
No. Not his favorite tie!
But it was too late. I levitated through the air over to my bed, the stomach demons purged. And it is here I lay now while I address you, dear reader. I’m not 100% yet, but I’m recovering.
I don’t know what set my stomach on a tizzy. But I do know what stopped it. Bless that goose. I saw him turn away. Expression unknowable beneath the aviator sunglasses he put on.
Sacrifice for friends. How honored I am to be that friend, dear reader. Always be sure to do the same.