FLO Blackmail Journal - Day 11 (Or:...What Was My Name
Again? Ah, That's Right...Mrs. Goofy...)

By Raine


“D-d-d-d-daddy’s back, R-r-raine (H-Yuk).” The words sent a chill down my
spine. Once…so familiar, and now…

I spun, knowing what I would see in advance. Goofy’s big, unblinking blackeyes bored into mine, carrying the almost plastic glaze of one who is completely and totally insane. I drew in a quick breath. God, how I’dmissed that three-whiskered bastard.

The Tweedles were still on the floor, slapping and soiling themselves in afit of abject fear...I was wearing kevlar…Goofy and I were armed to theteeth, the place was wired to explode, and there was duct tape to spare.It was just like old times. Tears formed in my eyes. Suddenly, it was asif three long years, massive narcotics, some light jail time, and a pile ofrestraining orders and lawyer’s fees had never been.

“Oh…Goofy…” I breathed. He was wearing the same cologne as he alwayshad…Eau de
Mindwipe. The scent seemed somehow stronger than it had thoseyears ago.


No. I couldn’t let him do this to me again. I needed to be strong,dammit, resist the animal urges that were threatening to overwhelm me. I struggled to remember, even as my hands independently started to pluck atmy confining teddy….something needed to give…too damn warm…

What was it I was trying to remember again? I couldn't hold onto my
thoughts, they started to slide away as soon as I could label them.

…FLO….What was it…A waitress on Alice’s Restaurant…Something water does…A
door-to door religion…Quilting circle…terrorist organization for a smalltoady guy…No, no, but closer….It was there, in the back of my brain,pulling on my consciousness as I tried to rip my gaze away from Goofy’ssuddenly and inexplicably spinning eyes.

The Tweedles squealed as once more they tried to get up from the Jell-osmeared floor. Silly twits, they always had been idiots with food products.

Goofy spun me around. “Whoogolly, R-r-r-r-raine…You g-g-got sp-sp-sparkling
j-j-just (H’Yuk) for m-m-m-m-me (H’Yuk)?” His huge, bucktoothed leerrecalled a hotel room in Madrid overlooking the water, room service, ascore of bewildered and mildly disgusted waiters all bringing in caseafter case after case of Jell-o and club soda. We’d stayed in that tubuntil Goofy’s fur was the color of an Irish Setter’s.

I melted.

I gave over and went back to the Kingdom, my magical home away from home,the place where I would never have to hear the words, “’Raine, that’s too tight’, ‘Human subjects approval’, or even ‘Aren’t you hurting him?’” ever, ever again.

I grabbed three rolls of reinforced duct tape and threw myself into Goofy’sarms.