Ted (merovingian) wrote,
Ted
merovingian

The Secret of Fun

So I went to the party last night, and now I'm totally exhausted. Dave and Kathy and Michael kind of dragged me along.
(Non-LJ friends; I only see them every few months.)

The party was up in Oakland, near the docks. The warehouse smelled rich with sweat and sugar, but there wasn't any music playing as we approached. When we got inside, I found out why.

Dull black glassy eyes stared at me as I entered, and there was a strange buzzing hum. There were very few people, maybe eight or nine million about, but there were lots of big cloth dolls sitting limply on chairs, their faces bright with bland lifeless smiles. Sometimes the dolls seemed to bulge, like something was moving under their cloth "skin".

Then I noticed all the bees.

I saw one doll that was clearly made to look like my friend Andrew, dressed in his own distinctive style. It was hanging limply, with bees crawling out of its neck.

Kathy laughed at my confusion. "Didn't you know? This is a turning-you-into-a-doll-stuffed-with-bees party! Just sit down and wait a few minutes and it'll happen. Don't worry, it's permanent."

A few other people at the party, who had smiled at me a minute before, were gone, replaced by insect-filled caricatures of humanity.

"Is this supposed to be fun?" I asked, flabbergasted. I was pretty angry at Kathy at this point for bringing me to this dangerous place.

"Relax!" said Dave with dismissive amiability, "Don't be such a party pooper!"
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