Diana folded her arms across her chest and stared down Zap.
“I’m just suggesting that you behold the wonder of that roiling sea of infinity in some other direction. If you don’t mind.”
“Oh, indeed,” said Zap with a sarcastic squint. “Yes, sir! Right away, sir!” He offered a crisp salute with one tentacle. “As you command, so shall it be done.”
“Knock it off,” she said.
He sputtered, rotated thirty degrees to the right, and focused on one of the masks staring back at him.
Peter-thing approached. When the misshapen host moved to one side, Chuck was revealed.
“New guest. Chuck, this Diana. Apartment Five. Diana, this Chuck—”
“Apartment Two,” she interrupted. “We’ve met.”
Peter-thing clicked his fangs together. “Chuck brings pie.”
“Just a little something I whipped up,” said Chuck.
“Pie good.”
Peter-thing was scant moments away from devouring the gift when Stacey snatched it from his hands. “Now, dear. Leave something for our guests.”
The creature glared, baring his terrible teeth, flexing his long, claw-tipped fingers.
She rapped him on the knuckles with a wooden spoon. “We still have leftover carrot cake in the refrigerator. Have some of that.”
“Did someone mention carrot cake?” asked Vom from the kitchen, already opening the refrigerator. Peter-thing dashed off to scrap with the other monsters for his piece.
“I’m sorry about those guys,” said Diana.
“Oh, they’re no bother,” said Stacey with her unflappable June Cleaver smile. “It’s just nice to have company.”
She went over to try to keep order among the monsters. If anyone could, Diana figured, it would be Stacey. Chuck sat on one end of the couch.
“Hello,” said Zap, waving a tentacle.
Chuck nodded. “Hi.”
“So, some mixer,” said Diana, without any thought behind the statement. Just something to say.
“Yeah,” he replied in his own vague manner.
She opened her mouth, but then shut it. She was about to comment about his evil puppy dog and how it had let him out again, but she assumed he was probably tired of talking about that.
Small talk proved difficult. Every subject seemed either inane or absurd. The problem with being trapped in an abnormal situation, even with company, was that there was no normality to seize hold of to balance things out. A harmless topic was hard to find.
“Seen any good movies lately?” she asked.
“No. Dog won’t usually allow me out of the apartment that long, and my TV only picks up Hanna-Barbera cartoons.”
“Oh. Well, Scooby-Doo can be fun.”
“Don’t get Scooby-Doo,” he said with a sour frown.
“Flintstones?”
He shook his head.
“Yogi Bear?” she tried. “Hong Kong Phooey? Captain Caveman? Squiddly Diddly?”
“No. None of those either.” He half-smiled at her. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who was such a Hanna-Barbera fan.”
“I have this tendency to remember unnecessary trivia,” she replied. “And yes, I do realize that unnecessary trivia is a redundant phrase. But some bits of trivia are more unnecessary than others, and I assume that knowing nearly every Hanna-Barbera character ever created is probably in the more unnecessary category.”
He laughed.
“Well, what do you get?” she asked.
“It varies. Mostly Galaxy Trio reruns and the occasional Speed Buggy episode. Sometimes, if the planets are in just the right alignment, Fangface comes in.”
“Fangface was a Ruby-Spears production,” said Diana. “Not Hanna-Barbera.”
“Boy, you weren’t kidding about the unnecessary trivia, were you?”
“Everybody’s got a talent.”
“Just do me a favor,” he said. “Don’t tell my TV that. Fangface may not be great, but I’d hate to lose it.”
She put a finger to her lips. “Mum’s the word.”
“I was always partial to Grape Ape,” said Zap.
The invisible voice spoke up behind her. “I think it’s criminal that Wait Till Your Father Gets Home is all but forgotten.”
She jumped. It wasn’t a big reaction, but Chuck noticed.
“That’s just Keith,” said Chuck. “He doesn’t exist.”
“So ILve been told.”
He tapped his temple with his finger. “It helps not to think about it too much.”
She imitated the gesture. “Can do.”
They shared a smile. Diana wasn’t given to romantic fantasies, but she felt a connection, a spark. She noticed it because she’d so rarely come across it before. They had something going on here. Something undefined, but promising.
Vom came over and plopped onto the sofa between Diana and Chuck, ruining the moment.
“So what are you two crazy kids up to over here?” he asked.
“Flirting, I think,” said Zap. “Fascinating ritual, really. I’m not familiar with how the custom proceeds, but I believe they were about to engage in intercourse.”
“By all means,” said Vom, “carry on. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Actually,” said Smorgaz, “mating usually only proceeds when the female has been properly inebriated to levels that impair her judgment without imminent threat of inducing vomiting.”
Chuck excused himself to go to the bathroom.
“Thanks a lot, guys,” said Diana.
“Did we do something wrong?” asked Vom.
“Forget it. It’s no big deal.”
She caught Zap staring at her again. He folded his tentacles and turned his giant eye toward the ceiling.
Stacey and Peter-thing came over with a plate of cucumber sandwiches.
“Everyone behaving over here?” asked Stacey with her warm smile.
“Snack snack,” said Peter-thing.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Vom grabbed two handfuls and devoured them in one gulp. There was one left, and he gently plucked it from the tray and, with one furry green pinky out, moved it toward his mouth. “Uh… anyone want this last one?” he asked.
Nobody did.
“Delicious,” he said. “Absolutely delightful. You must give me the recipe.”
“It’s an old family secret,” said Stacey. “My lips are sealed.”
“Cucumbers and mayonnaise,” said Peter-thing. She wagged her finger at him, and he recoiled.
“Now, Peter, why would you do such a terrible thing. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you.”
Peter-thing pouted. His large, red eyes welled up with tears.
“Sorrrrryyyyyy.”
“Oh, you know I can never
Grinning, he leaned forward, and Diana assumed he was about to bite her head off. Instead, they kissed, and the batthing switched hosts as their lips touched.
Despite all efforts not to think about it, Diana wondered how the couple managed sex. She could imagine it, but managed, through sheer willpower, not to dwell on the images that went through her head.
“You’ll excuse us,” said Peter.
When Stacey-thing turned around, he slapped her rump. The thing jumped hosts again, and Stacey giggled.
“Oh, Peter, you naughty boy.”
Diana smiled. The couple weirded her out, but they were also kind of sweet at the same time. Take away the bat-creature one of them always had to be, and they probably had the best relationship she’d seen in a long while. They seemed to enjoy each other’s company and were making the best of a tough situation. There was something special about that. Weird, but special.