Sunday, December 3, 2006

A Toy Story

“Let us out!” I had to obey when the buckets called. It was like termites skritching in the woodwork of my brain. I absently dumped 12 gallons of brightly colored Legos on the Astroturf of the front porch and waited for the inspiration. “Better start wide. We’ll be huge.” “Okay, what color?” “Use us all. No chunk left behind.” “This is going to look like barf. But, you’re the boss.” Clear, pointy claws grew from stubby brown and green toes. I mashed plastic blocks together like a Rubik’s Cube master, twisting and sticking pieces at a furious pace. “Excuse me, you forgot something.” I snorted, “Sorry, mom wouldn’t appreciate it. Besides, I’m not building you a girlfriend.” As shoulders flowed into a bristling neck, the raw materials began to dwindle. “You don’t need ears. You’ve always been able to hear without anyway. How about black bushy eyebrows, and horns?” “Make sure you have enough yellow for teeth! And a spiky nose, too.” “Pickins are getting slim. There’s only enough yellow singles for fangs.” “Check the register. You left dozens of us down the grate, you know. Back when you drooled more.” “Yeah! I forgot about those! That’s where my long, skinny ones went.” I gathered up the stragglers from among the dust bunnies and raced back to the porch. “Whoa! Did you… grow?” “Pshhhfft. Don’t be silly. Now let’s have the fangs.” I completed the dental work and stood back to see what gravity was doing to my creation. A three foot tall mutant Godzilla stood before me, its plastic grimace fixed in mismatched colors. As I stared, an eyebrow fell off. It clearly tried to snarl at me. “Knock it off. I put you together, I can take you apart.” “Not so fast.” The voice had changed. Instead of coming from everywhere in the corners of my brain, this was a growling, localized and very grumpy voice right behind my forehead. My feet began to retreat into the living room, but I commanded them to stay put. After all, it’s only Legos. I put on a show of confident nonchalance, and eventually turned to walk away. “Yeowlp! JEEZ, I wish you wouldn’t sneak like that.” “What, it’s my house too. Whatcha doing?” “Nothing. I just built a monster. Go stand next to him, he looks hungry.” My sister ignored this. “Why is it slouching?” “It’s stalking you. Feed it some of those saltines and butter, its joints need grease.” “Whatever, moron.” I found myself starkly alone with Spiky again. “Let me just grab this eyebrow and…” I faked him out. He leaned at me while I fled into the living room and dropped the lone piece into the carpet. It wouldn’t be long. “Dammit! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, take care of your Legos! My dad lurched barefoot onto the porch, upended Spiky into an empty bucket, and angrily put it under the basement stairs. “There! You’re grounded from those until you can be responsible.” “Phewf.”

6 comments:

tiff said...

OMG - you TOTALLY changed to look, and have labels, and all! AWESOME!

You Lego creatures came alive, huh? Well, I can understand that. Also the trick about putting a piece of Godzilla underfoot to rid yourself of your "problem" was inspired.

I'm not sure if there are bonus points for coming in at EXACTLY 500 words, but if there are your get them. Way to go!

Wordnerd said...

Wow! Fantastic first (substantive) post! Loved the story -- loved the whole concept!

Skully said...

Living Lego Ledgends, Love'em!

This Girl I Used to Know said...

Wow, my Legos never talked to me...

Kingfisher said...

Ah, a kindred soul with a love/hate of Legos. Nice twist on the creator theme, a la Frankentein.

But.

"I absently dumped..." If you are absent, how can you dump? Or do anything else in the scene? "Without thought..." perhaps?

Eyebrows? Sounds like Mr. Potato Head, not Legos. (Okay, I'm nit picky on this.)

Rework the Dad destroying the monster part, it's a little confusing.

"No chunk left behind." Genius. You can write a whole novel with this theme.

Thank you for adding your talents to the cause!

Sea Hag said...

Good stuff, though I wondered how many millions of Legos it'd take to make a monster that was 3 feet tall.

I especially liked that the child's point-of-view and dialog were very smooth and natural and not forced. Also, there's not a father alive who has not stepped on a Lego.