apinkyandthebrainhomage by KZ Rochelle (of course)
When last we saw K and Z in episode p, part 1, they were heading from the bathroom to the dining room to see who killed Mr. Body with the candlestick. No. Wait. That’s not right. Why were they headed to the dining room again?
“I’ll show you. Take me to the dining room!” ordered Z.
K carried Z to the dining room. The dining room sat empty — of people — with mostly empty cereal bowls scattered about without their spoons and half-eaten bags of chips falling over more half-eaten bags of chips. A strange greyish liquid dripped off the dining table and onto the floor.
Z saw it all. “Does no one clean up in this place?” Z asked without needing an answer, for the answer presented itself in the environment.
“Yup,” said K, “no one cleans up in this place, Z.” K glowed with pride, and possibly with toothpaste and spittle as well. “Isn’t it lovely?”
Z did not answer. Instead, she pointed to the backyard, that once was green, but like the vibrancy of the lives of those living inside the lavender home with blue violet trim on Wonky Way Lane, it had devolved into a destitute state of dryness. Then brownness. Then dirtness.
“Do you see that, K?” asked Z.
“It’s a fence!” said K.
“No, not that,” said an annoyed Z.
“It’s a spider!” said K.
“No, not that,” said a peevish Z.
“It’s a family of spiders!” said K.
“No, not that,” said a cross Z.
“It’s a bird! And a plane! No, there are no planes. It’s, it’s –”
“NO NOT THAT,” said a livid Z. “Look at that pile of dirt, you dimwit.”
“Which pile of dirt, Z? There’s dirt all over the place. It’s one big pile of dirt. Speaking of dirt, do you know what I heard? Beneath all the houses and buildings and stuff? It’s just dirt. Can you believe that, Z? Dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt. Is that true, Z?”
“Yes, K. We live in a dirty world,” said Z.
“Yes, we do!” K enthralled.
“And wouldn’t you like to get out into that dirty world?” asked Z.
“Yes, I would! I want to be dirty, too!” said K.
“Then shut up and listen to my plan!”
“Shutting up, Z,” said K and covered her mouth with both hands.
“Do you see that mound of dirt not three paces out from the doorframe?” asked Z.
K nodded her head but stayed otherwise shut up with her hands over her mouth.
“Do you know what makes that mound of dirt?” asked Z.
K’s eyes narrowed. Her mouth emerged like the redness of an injection site. Her lips squinched. Her hands shot up with one finger extended on each.
“Vitamins! There’s vitamins in dirt,” said K. “Hey, Z? How come we don’t eat the dirt if it’s so rich in vitamins?”
“Well, K,” Z let the words fall softly from her tongue, “that’s an example of WHEN YOU SHOULD HAVE SHUT UP!”
“Right-o, Z. Shutting up.” K pressed her lips together by pressing her fingers down on her upper lip and her thumbs up on her lower lip.
Clearing her throat, Z informed K, “The dirt pile in question is a gopher mound.” Z paused to consider how to dumb down the facts for the being before her. “An itty bitty gopher crawled up from under the ground and pushed all that brown dirt out so it could see the sunny sun. Does that make sense to a brain the size of yours?”
K nodded cautiously, thinking she might have just been insulted.
Her nodding stopped, thinking she might not have just been insulted.
K shook her head vigorously, thinking she might have just been lauded.
“Out with it,” said Z.
K’s hands fell from her face.
“With the gopher or his cents?” asked K.
“You should have kept it in,” said Z.
“Kept in the gopher or his cents? And does he keep his cents in his pockets or in a gopher piggy bank? Is a gopher piggy bank too big for his gopher pocket? And where does he get gopher clothes? He should wear overalls. Don’t you think gophers should wear overalls?”
Will K discover gophers walk around in the nude and be revolted? or propelled to make clothing for them in order to protect them from feeling embarrassed? Or will Z silence K’s inane questions? Find out in the next part of Days of our Pandemic…