Marvin: Part II

Later that month at the old crone’s house at the end of the cul-de-sac we find Marvin and Cynthia the crone inside the wiener factory turned home, discussing the finalizing of The Deal.

As promised, here is your part of the deal Marvin, Cynthia said, as she handed Marvin a rain damaged and musty cardboard box.

What’s this?

What’s what?

This, he said as he pulled a large roll of bubble wrap from the musky cardboard box.

It’s your part of the deal, said the crone, I have the fairy’s head on the garage door and to hold up my part of the bargain, this will help you rid your life of big people, or at least most of them.

But what is it?

You mean to tell me that you know what dagger is and how to use it, but you really don’t know what bubble wrap is? That is amazing, especially for a boy like you with such a grand appetite for creating mischief.

Well what you have there is 12 feet of heavy-duty bubble wrap, the crone said, medium cell, high performance with Barrier Bubble cushioning. Specifically designed for heavy, fragile and/or valuable products with long or unpredictable distribution cycles and it’s clear, not like that crappy foggy stuff that goes for much more. And yet, it has something special.

Well how in the hell is this supposed to help me with the big people issue?

Look a little closer my little devil and you will notice how each of the bubbles have a little sparkle that dances from side to side.

Yeah, I can see that, said Marvin

Well this is not just your everyday run of the mill bubble wrap. said the crone.

What do you mean? Asked Marvin.

Come here for a moment, said the crone taking Marvin’s hand and walking with him over to the living room window.

See that guy over there, and the crone motioned to a man across the street watering his lawn, his wife planting begonias, while their two little kids were having a water balloon fight?

Yeah, said Marvin.

Ok, look at the man again, and while you have him in your line of sight, pop one of the bubbles, but do it slow and easy. Slow and easy, hear?

Yeah

Unrolling about a foot of the bubble wrap Marvin selects one lone bubble between thumb and sausage like forefinger and gently begins to press on the bubble. Within the time of an extended moment, the bubble begins to expand under the pressure his fingers and Marvin notices that the man across the street has dropped the hose and is clutching at his stomach.

Marvin, slowly presses harder on the bubble cell, the cell stretches outward becoming ever so thin, shinny and taut. The man stumbles backwards, one hand, groping for the lawn chair that is just out of reach and as his wife runs to his side to steady him into the chair, Marvin, little by little… squeezes harder, the cell expanding to a mercury like mirror reflection. And then… ‘POP’ 

The man collapses.

What happened to him? Asks Marvin.

He’s dead, Marvin, you killed him, said the crone, a bit concerned about the smile that was beginning to make its way from behind Marvin’s question.

But how?

You dissolved his intestines, and without intestines, one just can’t continue.

But how?

The sparkle, Cynthia the crone said, you released the sparkle from inside the bubble Marvin. When the sparkle is released quickly, it responds quickly, and at other times, like just now… when released slowly it responds slowly. Whatever happens, all depends on how hard, how quickly you press.

Go ahead, pop another, this time, just snap-pop, quick, as quick as you can.

Marvin slipped the next bubble between thumb and forefinger and without thought heard and felt a ‘POP’ and the woman across the street tending to her once-was husband: Disappeared.

Gone.

~Poof~

Whoosh

WOW, said Marvin.

Happy? Asked the crone.

You bet.

Ok, here is how it works, said the crone. While looking at someone, pop a bubble, quick or slow, the popping intensity should be parallel to how one feels about the individual they are looking at. If it’s a quick snap-pop, then your subject will slip to absolute zero. They will cease to be.

A slow squeeze pop will liquefy something, somewhere internal, could be the brain, the skeletal framework, or perhaps just an organ or two. I once slow popped a lady, her entire skin system liquefied from the inside out. One moment she was sitting at the bar having a cosmopolitan, ‘POP’ and the next moment: blood, muscle, tissue and bones sat on the bar stool in a human like form and a second or two later: SPLAT! A puddle of used-to-be.

That’s it, just squeeze-pop and that’s all? asked Marvin.

Yes but remember, said the crone, you have the only roll of its kind. So use it with discretion.

With what?

Never mind.

Huh?

Nothing, Marvin, nothing.

Looking back out the living window, Marvin stared in awe at the two children as they stood over their once-was dad, both still holding what now looked like tired, worn-out sagging water balloons and Marvin was sure they were wondering why their mother had left in such a hurry. In fact, later on when questioned about what had happened to their mother, the kids would answer with, she left right in the middle of a quick. Of course you would think this a most un-thought out answer but most kids would reply in this manner when circumstances doesn’t allow for what can and cannot be.

Marvin had never known such happiness. Stepping back from the window, smiling, he looks over at Cynthia the crone and ‘POP-POP-POP’. And the crone was no more.

Marvin, much like the crone, was never heard of again. Some say he just popped himself into a quick. The cul-de-sac has since opened up and runs all the way through to Maple Street and where the wiener factory once stood, well, now there sits a Wall-Mart in its place. Funny thing though about that Wal-Mart, the evening greeter is 60 year-old midget. People say that he’s not very friendly and should never have been hired as a greeter in the first place, and that every day, except Tuesdays and Thursdays, he brings his lunch to work in a black cat lunch pail complete with a brass handle. And you know how silly people can be, some even say, that what rattles in his pockets are nothing more than a collection of kid’s teeth. Front teeth, mostly.

Myself, I don’t put much stock in such childish tales. But one thing I do know is that over the last 50 years a lot of parents have gone missing after tucking their kids in for the night. Or at least that is the last time they are known to be. The kids, sad to say, are then usually shipped off to foster homes or to some child care institution.

The End

Ok kids, that’s it, the tale of Marvin and The Old Crone, all wrapped up in and ready to be put away to be pulled out for another night. Sweet dreams my angels and don’t let the bed bugs bite.

Poppi, can you leave the hall light on?

Yes, I can, but the two of you off to sleep now, ok?
I’m going to watch The Late Show with your mom and dad and then I’m off to sleep myself.

OK, Poppi, night.

Night sweeties.

About ten minutes later…

POP.
POP.
POP.

What was that?

I don’t know.

Poppi?

MOMMIE?
DADDY?
POPPI?

Comments

[Crystal De la Cruz]

I LOVE the bubble wrap! LOL Awesome.

Damn I wish I had some of that... wahahahahaa... I'd keep a portion of the roll in the console of my car for jackasses on the highway who cut me off or fail to move out of the fast lane. =)

[Carol]

I don't think I will ever look at bubble wrap the same way...

[Mr. WLA]

Crystal: Wouldn't life be wonderful is that is all we would have to do to make our day a little brighter. However we would really have to regulate who get's bubble wrap. Not only a small roll for your car but a roll for the office as well.

[Mr. WLA]

Hah, Carol, ah music to my ears. My work here is done. ;-)

alvin

[Sasha]

Alvin, that was absolutely gruesome. Thank you.