Part 8: Rudness of fire

MJ held the fiery blaze in her eye line for a moment longer before it merely popped out of existence. She rubbed her eyes and expected the large dinosaur in a top hat and fake moustache to disappear too.

He did not

“...what... the?” She shivered noting her lack of coat and fire.

“I enquired if you are in fact high?” He repeated the question and waited on her reply.

“Oh...” she nodded with eyes as big as saucers.

“Well that does explain your rather odd and flamboyant actions.” His tiny T-Rex arms flapped helplessly.

“Bugger my blasted arms.” He looked at MJ who although terrified had not moved. “I’m sorry to ask this, but could you help? You see my chin is itchy and because of my lack of length in my arms I cannot scratch. It really does fudge me up some when any part of my anatomy is uncomfortable.”  The tiny arms wriggled to emphasize his lack of reach. Her face was clouded with suspicion at his request.

“Oh, you needn’t worry my dear, I have no intention of eating you. I only eat Postmen.” She noted his surety at this comment and carefully walked forward.

“Where exactly are you itchy?”

“Left side, right at the back.” She found herself where jaw met neck and lifted up her shaky hand to scratch the irritated section of skin. At first she scratched softly but realised his thick skin would prevent it from working, so she leaned into it. His tail wagged in glee at this most awesome scratch. Sighing loudly, and then grunting he smiled.

“Ahh... thank you so very much... MJ was it?”

“Yes.” She sat back down on the cold ground.

“I hope I haven’t prevented you from going anywhere?”

“I think I was going somewhere but I don’t remember.” She thumbed her forehead in thought.

“Pity.” He gazed sadly at her loss of memory.

“What is your name Mr T-Rex?” She thought she had been rude in not asking sooner and hoped he wouldn’t take offence.

“Well I don’t really have a proper name, but the lion that dropped me off referred to me as Dino. So I stuck with it.” He smiled at his introduction, it seemed almost natural, and scared MJ.

“I’m sorry if this seems rude Mr Dino, but are you a figment of my imagination?”

Dinos’ lack of eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Well, you might be completely fudged in the skull and not everything you are viewing is as it appears but I for one am not part of this hallucination.”

“That’s good, I guess.” She nodded.

“I am sorry if I am scarring you, but you do seem calmer than most I have approached. I believe the mind altering substances may relax an individual enough not to be completely shocked at my appearance. Generally they think they’ve gone mental and throw things at me. Very rude.”

Part 7: high as an f*****g kite

Her singing was crass and overly loud to the ear drums. If her neighbours had been home they would have called the S.P.C.A on suspicion that somebody was strangling a deaf cat with an badly tuned violin.

She threw down her coat and hovered at her shirt preparing to pull it over her head, when she inexplicably started banging on her chest in a Tarzans-ish manner, then proceeded to scream fire, fire and point excitedly at the icy snow covered ground. The T-Rex, who until then, had been waiting patiently for this lunatic to calm down, cautiously approached her and tipped his head in greeting.

“Good evening madam... May I enquire as to the manner of you lunacy? Your actions are decidedly curious and I feel that an explanation would do justice to your exhibition, as I would not like to assume anything unjustly.”

MJ paused and looked at the extinct mass before her.

“Me am MJ! You am T-Rex in fancy hat! Me am stare at fire! Fire!” A quizzical expression traced the leathery face of the dinosaur.

“A fire you say?” He viewed the area of her gaze with suspicion.

“Fire! Fire!” She squatted before the invisible flames to soak up its warmth and light. The dinosaur frowned at what he could not see, but sat down and gazed intently at her.

“Madam... Are you high?”

Part 6: far too sexy

She felt her inner sanity slip through her fingers and she was powerless to stop those tiny granules with her clumsy hands. Her hands flung up and waved in terror as she ran in a circle screaming, maybe someone would come save her from herself, perhaps that friendly looking T-Rex in that fancy hat?
“Oh my GAWD! I’ve lost it!” Her enthusiasm for the circle and waving hands reinstituted itself. The ground was littered with the beginnings of winters’ first snowfall, perhaps it was a bad idea to have chosen a house so far up in the mountains. But this thought was not her own, it was the thought of reason and good sense, which she had very little of at this time.
Dropping her bag and keys she proceeded to run in dread towards the all too quiet road. Her neighbours had gone away for the weekend so she was alone. She stopped and heard this voice, the voice that said there is nobody around, and the voice that said nobody is gonna hear you..... sing!
“I”M TO SEXY FOR MY SHIRT TO SEXY FOR MY SHIRT SO SEXY IT HURTS!” strutting down the road she advanced into unzipping her winter coat, because her shirt was underneath it.

Part 5: Silly but chilly

Suddenly her world fell into place like a magnetic puzzle, each piece slipping back to form a crystal clear picture of her present. Her door had not moved nor did it give any hint of evil, her passage way rotated no more and the music she had believed to be an epic interlude to her life was nothing more than a vivid thought in her flailing mind.
She got up and rushed to her bedroom, and threw open her wardrobe door. Hastily she put warmer clothes on, boots and a beanie. Was she late for her appointment? She didn’t even remember the time the receptionist had given her, this was totally the last time she was buying that shit from that one eyed creepy man.
Grabbing her keys and handbag she headed for the front door, she opened the door and peeked at the weather outside. Chilly and mother flipping cold greeted her face. It was dark too, which was weird, but she didn’t really expect anything else from winters gloom and doom vibes. She closed and locked the door, then proceeded to make her way to the driveway she had parked her car in. Then, as such things tend to happen; a wave of insane town came home behind her eyes and greeted her like a friendly yet unwelcomed neighbour.

Part 4: real-eyes-ation

She heard a pan flute that signalled a call to arms. She was in middle earth in the mists of a showdown with the evil Dr More-DOOR. Her hobbit friends had disappeared, probably f’ed off with that damn bling ring. You cannot rely on those damn creatures, with their fuzzy feet. Really suspect, if nothing else.
Realizing something was a bit off she called a time out from the epicness and sat down on the ground. Wasn’t she doing something else before all this happened, and how on mother flipping middle earth did she get to this point? She’d gotten the ring from Gray the Bed and travelled a creepy path with.... no no, that’s incorrect, she was on a planet with a billion moons and a jedi... no wait that’s wrong too... she had been in this weird ass forest with really tall blue dudes and dude-ets... No that was Avatar.... maybe she caught all the pokemon? Eh no.
“....teeth.....teeth?” she thumped her head and declared the word teeth a couple o hundred times then a light bulb switched on.
“I HAVE TO GO TO THE DENTIST!!”

Part 3: gymnastic-elastic

This dazzling door thing had insulted her very being; making her seem foolish in front of, well, herself! How dare it mock her, and then assume its natural function. Sliding both hands towards her shoulders, she gave a mighty push and vaulted herself off the floor like a seasoned gymnast, and then slammed heavily into the wall.
Her rage was well up there along with the fantastical delusion she now found herself in. The colours were brighter and better, the outlines that contained her cartoonish figure now enveloped her entire house emphasizing her grand dilemma.
 “I will not stop till you are defeated Dr Door! You’re evil rain of foolish making stops here tonight!”
The words that erupted from her mouth hole solidified and flew to the floor, making it easier for the viewers at home to understand a word she was saying. Subtitles for strife.
“Do not mock me girl! You can never defeat me, Dr Door! Minions! ATTACK!”

Hundreds of tiny doors, with arms and legs swooped down from the trap door above her head. She kicked and punched and then kicked and punched some more. Splinters flew everywhere as she blasted some with her amazing eye laser vision. Bits of wood flew about her as the wind dramatically blew through her hair, a strident flurry of equally dramatic opera music wafted down the passage way.
This boss battle was on like donkey kong.

Part 2: totally

She paused in mid leg lift to allow this thought to wash over like a cool breeze on a hot day. Her tongue ran over her teeth, they felt smooth and cool, her mouth made that loud smacking noise as she allowed herself to test the liquid viscosity.
“Ugh... Tots to the brushing requirement.” She announced this to her bed in the hope it would forgive her.
“You my dear beloved friend need to hold your horses. My teeth require attention. But I shall make post haste.” The bed whispered its good luck on her venture as she dropped her leg, twisted about and marched through the every twisting passageway, remembering specifically that she hadn’t installed a rotation system.” It must be new,” she thought, “installed by that weird hobo fairy from that green bottle I had.”
By the third rotation of the passage way she had reached the now double storey jewel incrusted restroom. “That bastard best be backing of my shit son....” she huffed and puffed and kicked the door open. Well attempted to in any case, as she ended up face palming herself into the floor. The door had moved, just as her bed had earlier. The biggest difference between these two, now animated objects was the door was working against her. “BASTARD!”

Part 1: unattached

As the last musical note flitted through the air MJ sat back down on the bean cushion and exhaled her last ounce of energy. Tonight had been ROUGH and she felt the urge for bed singing its familiar song. She smiled and closed her eyes thinking of the sweet surrender she had yet to feel. Bed, oh glorious splendid amazingly grand bed. They should write more odes to these shrines of sleep and more songs about the sheets and duvets that wrap so lovingly around your body.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she was taken aback by the most unusual sight. Her bed had moved and was now directly in front of her nose. She could smell the fibres, which was weird because she didn’t realise her nose was still attached to her face. She could have sworn she was still in her lounge a second ago.
Shrugging her shoulders she thought it needn’t matter. Bed was here, so was she and together they would have a glorious affair of epic proportions stemming long into the late hours of tomorrow morning. It was the first complete weekend she had to herself in two years and it was amaze-balls. Although her time with her friends had been short that day she felt bonded and friended to the max. She got up and proceeded to make her way into bed when a thought, importantly enough, hit her in the conscious part of her brain.
“Did I brush my teeth?”