apinkyandthebrainhomage by KZ Rochelle (of course)
When last we saw K and Z in episode y, part 2, they had a plan to leave the enclosure of these four walls in order to get K medical assistance. I know, you’re thinking about the multitude of medical assistances K requires, but, in this case, she suffered a laceration to the head. At Z’s insistence, the two were getting ready to leave the bathroom, leave the house, leave these four walls. But Z claimed K was forgetting something….
K held up the toilet paper. “Got the TP, Z.” She looked around the bathroom. She tried to remember if she was supposed to take the plumbing. Or was it the wet/dry vac? There was a towel on the floor. That didn’t seem like the place it should be. Maybe she was supposed to wrap herself in a towel. Was she supposed to stay fully clothed under the towel? That didn’t sound right. She was going to the doctor after all, the place she first attended in her birthday suit…
Z cooed, “What about,” then cawed, “ME YOU PEABRAIN?!”
“I didn’t pee in my brain. Did I, Z? Maybe I did hurt myself badder than I thought and my thoughts are not working. Oh no, a leak in my brain?”
“Nuts, too!? I’m doomed.” K’s hands shot to her neck. She toddled and nearly fell, again. “I’m dying. I’m dying.”
“Then stop choking yourself,” Z told K.
“Oh.” K let her hands drop to her sides. “That fixed it.”
“And the doctor will fix the rest of what she can, but bring me with you.”
“Right-o, Z. Let’s go.”
K took Z to the garage, along with the toilet paper. She set Z on the passenger seat and buckled her in.
“Safety first, Z,” K said.
K started the car. She released the emergency break. She put the car in reverse.
“Don’t forget to open the garage, K,” said Z.
The garage door opened. K and Z began to back out of the garage.
“We’re doing it. We’re doing it,” Z said. “We’re leaving this blasted house behind!”
“Yes! A blast from your behind!”
Z was too thrilled to deal with K, so she pretended not to hear her.
Just before K and Z reached the edge of the four walls of the lavender house with blue violet trimming on Wonky Way Lane, K hit the breaks.
“What are you doing, K? We’re almost out! We are leaving, escaping! Self-liberation! Emancipation! Let’s go!”
“Uhhh? Z? There’s something fishy behind us.”
“What?” Z turned to see, but she was in a mirror so she could not see behind her. “What is it?”
“Well, maybe fishy is the wrong word. There are no fish. It is kind of goldfish colored though.”
“What is it, K?”
“It’s a big, fiery wall of fire.”
“Yes, Z. It is. I swear. I promise. It’s for real.”
“It’s a wall of fire?”
“Are you sure, K?”
Z’s gaze met the ground. “It’s a firewall,” she said.
“But it’s for real. I thought firewalls were virtual.”
“They are, K, but we live in a world where the lines between reality and virtuality are disappearing.”
“And reappearing as a real live fire wall?”
“Sure,” said Z.
“Then what will we do about my head, Z? Please don’t say cut it off. I like my head, Z. I wouldn’t like to live without my head.”
“You won’t, K,” said Z.
“Oh, thank you, Z,” said K.
“That’s not what I meant, K,” said Z.
“Oh, thank you, Z.”
They sat a moment, each worrying over the circumstance they found themselves in but for entirely different reasons.
“Z? It’s getting hot in here. Can we close the garage door, please?” asked K.
Z felt the loss of the near escape and recognized that closing the garage door meant closing the door to a successful escape from the enclosed by these four walls. Again.
Z exhaled a breath large enough to extinguish a fire — on a candle wick. “Yes, K,” she said. “Let’s go inside and call the doctor.”
“Oooh! Can I do a virtual visit, Z?”
“That’s the only thing you can do thanks to the real firewall, K.”
“Oh, that’s much better, Z. That means no shots!” said K.
“Just the one right through the heart of our escape plan.”
K snickered. “That one’s not real, Z.”
“I know,” said a downtrodden Z.
“You’re so silly.”
“Come on now. Back to the bathroom. You can give me a good look at you there and we will get you a bit cleaned up before we call the doctor.”
“That sounds like a plan, Z.”
“Oh, K. I’d slap you if I could.”
The two made a virtual appointment, called the doctor, and cleaned K’s head — which turned out not to be bleeding at all. No. K stored several sriracha packets in her hairline and the fall caused one to burst and squirt onto her right eyebrow. All remained as well as could be in the lavender house with violet blue trim on Wonky Way Lane. Which is, of course, to say things were not well at all.
Is Z out of ideas for good? Or will her ideas go bad? Or worse, might K take the reins to lead K and Z out of the enclosure of these four walls? Poor K and Z. What will they do next? Find out in the next episode of Days of Our Pandemic.