Tuesday, July 22, 2014

My teenage self is both proud and jealous of me right now.

I got a job at ... drum roll, please.


Even typing out those words gets me excited. I know that it sounds like I'm stuck in some sort of adolescent fantasy, and in some ways, I totally am. The job pays minimum wage, and I'm surrounded by comics, movies (VHS tapes, even, which makes me laugh), toys, figurines, geeky T-shirts, etc. I will definitely have to curb my desire to buy the $75 Wonder Woman statuette that I've had my eye on since I first walked into the store. But honestly? It's perfect. On my first day, I talked about all things dork: Magic the Gathering, comic books, video games, movies. I fit right in with the group, and my boss understands how to best manage me (I seriously think that she may be Future Me), something that hasn't happened ... since college? When, I think it's important to note, was at a bookstore. My schedule is flexible, which leaves me plenty of time to paint, draw, and write, and even the boring tasks (stuffing comic book bags with backers, for example) don't leave me with a certain numbness of mind that other jobs have (coughDHScough). Sure, it's retail, and I've already had my first "weird" customer, although it's a comic book shop. What else can I expect?

But the kicker is the talk I had with my boss about my own comic. She has her own policy for local artists: she buys books outright instead of doing a commission thing, and she even said that she doesn't mind taking a monetary hit if it means that she can spotlight something other than DC or Marvel. I'll even be able to promote with other merchandise, like cards, T-shirts, and drink coasters. This really is a match made in heaven, and I'm sure the honeymoon period will end at some point. I already have a plan for organizing the floor (something I'm oddly good at, despite looking at my own house), and I think I'm going to approach my boss with my idea tomorrow when I go in for my first New Comic Day. Obviously, we're going to be busy, so I won't be able to implement it just yet, but eeeee! I have goals! Who am I?

Friday, July 18, 2014

Life with Pets: Baby - A One-Act Play

Because Juju was unemployed*, one of Three's friends in need of a babysitter brought his child, M, for her to watch while he and Three spent their day working. JUJU, having spent the entire previous night cleaning the house - or as she called it, "unfucking her habitat," is both wide awake and loopy, but determined to provide a safe and friendly environment for a nine-month-old. M sits on the carpeted floor, holding her blanket silently and eyeing the four non-human creatures - ZOLA, BINA, KITKAT, and BITSY - that seem to be, at worst, vaguely interested in her existence. 

KITKAT: My environment has changed and I'm not too happy about this. I'm going to hide in the bed-closet. (scampers off stage)
BITSY: Does it bite? Wait, Tyrannical Not-Friend is not here? Freeeeee!
BINA: She smells funny.
JUJU: Zola, back up. Seriously. You're going to scare the baby.
M: Eeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhh??

Zola cocks her head to one side, confused by this new sound.

ZOLA: Is she hurt? Is she hungry? Does she need comforting puppy kisses? Does she need to poop? Are we going on a walk? I LOVE WALKS. She will love walks, too.
JUJU: No, she just got here, and her dad says that he's already changed her diaper. Calm the fuck down.
ZOLA: (pouts) I'll go get on the couch.

While Zola hops on the couch, Juju picks up M and places her on her hip. The baby seems rather comfortable with the goings on, for which Juju is grateful. 

JUJU: I'm not sure if I could have handled this if you were crying.
M: (blank stare) Pbthththth.
JUJU: I feel ya.

Juju knows essentially nothing about babies, except what she previously Googled earlier. She takes the plastic toy bag, which holds pretend doctor utensils (stethoscope, complete with sparkly lights, one of those knee-thumper things, a thermometer, and a syringe) and chewing rings. M seems unaffected when Juju dangles one of the rings in front of her and simply sticks the edge of her blanket in her mouth.

JUJU: Do you watch TV? I have Netflix, which apparently has a kids' section. You know, I've always wanted to watch that new My Little Pony show. What do you think?
M: (nothing)
JUJU: Sounds good to me. Zola?
ZOLA: I don't know what TV is.
BINA: I am curious about this small human thing. It is a human, right?

Bina approaches the baby cautiously and sniffs her hand. M reaches out for the cat and starts to kind of stroke her fur. Bina purrs and inches a little closer, and M grabs her ear, pulling at it slightly.

BINA: This too shall pass? What do I do? Mommy? WHAT. DO. I. DO.
JUJU: Alrighty, little one, you probably shouldn't hurt the kitty.
M: (with delight) Eeeeeeehhhhh!!

The baby lets go of Bina's ear.

BINA: That ... wasn't so bad. It was kind of like petting?
JUJU: You are such a good cat.
BINA: I often think so.
BITSY: I don't trust it.
ZOLA: I want pets!
JUJU: Zola, stay on the couch.

Juju checks her phone for the time.

JUJU: Well, it's nine o'clock. Your dad said that you were supposed to be fed every four hours, so I guess it's time for second breakfast for you, M.
M: (no reaction)

Because Juju wanted to corral the baby in a safe area, she had placed a barrier of plastic bins to block the way to the kitchen and the rest of the apartment. She is hesitant to carry a baby as she tries to climb over them, so she puts M down and heads toward the fridge.

JUJU: Well, you should be okay if I set you down for a second, right? I'll have you in my line of sight, and the animals don't really seem to be intimidated by you.
BITSY: So you say. Is she taking my place?? I AM THE BABY!
JUJU: Oh, hush. She leaves at the end of the day.
BITSY: I have no idea what that means.

M keeps staring at Bitsy, who is perched on top of the counter. As Juju fetches one of the bottles M's dad left, Bitsy jumps down to investigate the intruder.

JUJU: Bitsy, be nice. She is small.
BITSY: She is bigger than me, so she has the advantage.
JUJU: (rolls eyes) Well, her motor skills are far below yours, so I think you're safe.
BITSY: Whatever.

Bitsy creeps toward M, who has suddenly decided that this white kitty is worth her full attention. She crawls toward Bitsy with unprecedented interest.

M: Aaaaahhhhh!!! (smiles)

Bitsy's tail floofs out and she dashes like a madman around the living area, simply exciting the baby even further.

JUJU: Bitsy! Seriously! Just jump back up on the counter! She can't reach you there.
JUJU: Yes, I do! She is a baaaaabyyyyy.

Bitsy follows Juju's instructions and nervously keeps an eye on M, who is still fixated on her until Juju climbs back over the boxes with a fresh bottle of formula. After a few minutes, M falls asleep on the small pallet Juju makes on the floor. Kitkat emerges from the bed-closet and slowly makes her way over to investigate the baby. She smells her hair and jumps back when M twitches a bit.

KITKAT: What. Is. That.
JUJU: That, my friend, is a baby human. She's not dangerous.
KITKAT: I don't believe you. The last time you brought something into the house that was alive, we kept it. And my life was forever changed for the worst.
JUJU: Well, she's not ours. She's someone else's kid. He'll be back in a little while to pick her up.
KITKAT: We shall see.

A few hours pass, and M wakes up with a slight whine.

KITKAT: Well, back to the bed-closet. See you later, bitches.
JUJU: Well, good morning, sunstar! Have a good nap? I bet you probably need your diaper changed.
BITSY: What's a diaper?
JUJU: You shall see.

Juju has not changed a diaper in years and is ever hopeful that no poop will enter the equation. Thankfully, M has only peed, so cleanup isn't as disgusting as it could have been.

BINA: That's her litter box??
JUJU: Hey, stay away from that!
BITSY: Babies are weird.
ZOLA: That doesn't smell tasty.
JUJU: That's because it isn't.

M is happy again with a dry diaper and raises her arms with expectation.

JUJU: Oh, I know! Throw the baby!

Juju tosses M lightly into the air, and M giggles gleefully. As she descends, Zola freaks out.

ZOLA: Is she hurt?? Does she need kisses? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP, MOMMY!!
M: Eeeeeeeeeeeee!
JUJU: Zola, she's fine! I swear. This is fun. And oddly enough, it's pretty good exercise for me.

Once Juju finally tires physically of playing the tossing game, she places the baby back on the floor and sits down next to her. Zola ignores her owner and zeroes in on M, who laughs when Zola slobbers all over her face.

JUJU: Hey, quit it! Damn, now I'll have to clean her face. I don't think her dad would appreciate her smelling of dog breath.
ZOLA: I choose to disregard this comment. (continues licking M)

Several more hours, episodes of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, puffy organic snacks, and naps later, Three and M's dad, Big M, arrive from a long, hard day. 

THREE: We're home! Where's Kitkat?
BIG M: Hey, baby girl!
M: (grins) Eeeaaaaahhhhh!
JUJU: Kitkat's in the bedroom. Oh, and M's just been changed again. No poop for today, but I leave that for you. You're welcome.
BIG M: Much thanks.
THREE: How'd the animals do?
JUJU: Well, Kitkat has been hiding almost all day, Zola adopted M, Bina is really good with babies, and Bitsy is terrified of them.
THREE: Oh, well, good! Then they'll be great when we have our own!
BINA: Um, okay?

The End.

* NO LONGER. She had an interview on Wednesday and starts on Monday! Woooooo, comic book store employee!!

Also, tune in next Friday for a special edition of Life with Pets! Three is doing a guest post! Whee!

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

31 Days of Battlestar Galactica Challenge

It's that time again. A while back, I did a 30 Days of Buffy challenge, which had me watch the entire seven seasons (oh, season six and seven ... sigh). I wasn't necessarily as punctual as I'd like to have been, and I present no excuses. Anyway, BSG is probably one of my favorite television shows of recent times, and it still holds up much better than Buffy the Vampire Slayer does (oh, the lingo and fashion statements), which had a lot of nostalgia for me. I grew up with that show, and while I still enjoy pulling out my DVD collection of it, I find that I have a lot of issues with which Adult Juju has problems (i.e. how Joss Whedon presented people of color, or a pretty big lack of presentation, homosexuality, rape, Xander ...). It's not that BSG doesn't have its ups and downs, because it totally does, but there's a sort of maturity and self-awareness that I appreciate. 

Anyway, here's what you have to look forward to during the month of August, starting on August 1, 2014:

Day 1: How did you discover Battlestar Galactica?
Day 2: Favorite Female Character
Day 3: Favorite Male Character
Day 4: Favorite Cylon
Day 5: Least Favorite Cylon
Day 6: Favorite Character All Around
Day 7: Least Favorite Character All Around
Day 8: Character I Loved that Everyone Else Hated
Day 9: Favorite Season
Day 10: Favorite Miniseries Scene
Day 11: Favorite Season 1 Scene
Day 12: Favorite Season 2 Scene
Day 13: Favorite Season 3 Scene
Day 14: Favorite Season 4 Scene
Day 15: Favorite Razor/The Plan Scene
Day 16: Favorite Episode
Day 17: Least Favorite Episode
Day 18: Most Upsetting Death
Day 19: Something Happened that I Wish Hadn't
Day 20: Something Didn't Happen that I Wish Had
Day 21: Favorite Dream/Prophecy Moment
Day 22: Most Surprising Moment
Day 23: Most Hated Scene
Day 24: Favorite Pairing (Canon)
Day 25: Favorite Pairing (Non-Canon)
Day 26: Best Promo Picture
Day 27: Favorite Quote
Day 28: Favorite Ship
Day 29: Favorite Battle
Day 30: Favorite Music
Day 31: The Ending - What Did I Think of It?

I'm ridiculously excited about this since, a) I get to watch all of Battlestar Galactica again, b) these challenges actually make me really think about why I love what I love, and c) I get to watch Battlestar Galactica again. This also gets me thinking about other 30-31 day challenges I want to do: Bubblegum Crisis, Friends, Star Wars, The Matrix, The Wheel of Time, etc. Although it also gets me to worrying about getting my own work done. Hmph. Well, maybe it will be an instigator to get the five arcs of "The Legion" done. Who knows. Eek!

Monday, July 14, 2014

I will remember you.

Last week, my mind wandered to one of my favorite high school teachers, Mrs. Carroll. I first met her when I applied to be admitted into her journalism class in my sophomore year, and she was warm and encouraging, eager to invite a new mind into a fairly well-funded extracurricular (seriously, we were given around $42,000 to make the yearbook). Mrs. Carroll was also the junior English teacher, so that next year, I got to be in her class twice a day, depending on what part of the week it was. She was a tough instructor, expecting the best from her students, but more than willing to help someone out, if they were truly putting forth the effort. As you got to know her better, she proved herself to be witty and self-deprecating, wicked intelligent and motherly. One of the best bits of journalistic advice she ever gave was, "Act stupid. You get the best information that way." She was also the only teacher who approached my parents when, after a friend of mine committed suicide during senior year, she had concerns about my mental state*. One of the only parts about graduating from high school that I was actually sad about was the fact that I would never be in one of Mrs. Carroll's classes again.

Then yesterday, I got a text from my mother, telling me that Mrs. Carroll had passed last week from cancer and offering to clip out the obituary for me. It was one of the most surreal things I've experienced yet. I hadn't even been aware that she had been sick, let alone that close to death. I ran and grabbed my yearbook and nearly burst into tears looking at her picture. And then I ran across a photo of her accepting the award I'd won (second place in the state for layout design) with this big cheesy grin on her face, full of pride and sheer joy. I vividly remember that moment, a time in my past when I thought I could get somewhere in the journalism world. She made me believe in myself in a way that no other teach before or since had. I loved her.

And now she's gone. I'll never get to tell her how much she meant to me or how much she had affected my adult life. I'm sure she's had plenty of other former students tell similar stories, letting her know all the good she did during her life. So all I can really do now is live in a way that I know will make her proud: focus my energy on creating words and images, much like I had done in high school. And I will, Deanne. May you rest in peace, my wonderful friend.

* I had been taking muscle relaxers to help with my TMJ, and I was also given an anti-depressant to help counterbalance the side effects of the muscle relaxers. Of course, my friend's suicide wasn't helping matters, so I was in a very weird place at the time.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Life with Pets: When Kitkat Is Happy - A One-Act Play

Mid-afternoon on what appears to be a normal day, JUJU is folding the laundry while watching a new (to her) "Nikita" episode, an underrated (yet still subpar to the original "La Femme Nikita" series) show via Netflix. Both BITSY and BINA have manned the Kitty TV to watch the small flock of birds that have amassed to feed off of the remainder of a fast food meal someone left in the parking lot. KITKAT chooses to ignore the spectacle, instead dutifully opting to wait to take her place on top of fresh towels before Juju puts them away, and ZOLA blissfully snores on her new bed, a gift from Juju's parents. THREE walks through the front door, attempting to whistle, an ability he has yet to master, home from another hard day of work.

THREE: Hey, sweetie! How goes it?
JUJU: Pretty well. Kitkat's being weird.
ZOLA: (jumping up excitedly) DADDY!! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD.
BITSY: Escape? (Three shuts the door) Damn.
THREE: Hey, Zola. (looking at the seemingly normal Kitkat) How so? Is she sick?
JUJU: She's been nice all day. She hasn't stalked Bitsy once today, and earlier, she was rubbing all up and down Zola.
ZOLA: This is true. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there with my eyes all wide.
BINA: Hungry?
JUJU: You don't get fed for another two hours.
BINA: (pouting) Fine.

Three approaches Kitkat, who is purring like a motorboat contentedly, and sits down next to her.

THREE: So you're being weird?
KITKAT: I am in a good mood.
THREE: I'm not sure how to deal with this.
JUJU: Join the crowd.

Feeling particularly ballsy, Bitsy creeps up to Kitkat and pokes her head just high enough by the edge of the sofa that all the other cat can see are her eyes and ears.

BITSY: I'm not sure why I'm doing this.
KITKAT: I have no interest in you whatsoever.
JUJU: See? I have no idea what's going on.

Bitsy then places her paws on the edge of the sofa and extends her head to where she and Kitkat nearly touch noses. Three pets Kitkat, partially to keep her calm and also to ensure that he has a way to keep the larger, older cat from lunging at the extremely brave (or stupid) one.

THREE: Bitsy, I'm not so sure this is a good idea. Who knows how long her grace period will last.
BITSY: But I has a confused.

She reaches with her paw and boops Kitkat lightly on her head. Kitkat merely squints her eyes, choosing to enjoy the touch of her favorite person, aka Three. Three looks at Juju and shrugs. After a few moments of stunned silence from everyone, Kitkat stands up and arches her back, stretching. Bitsy squats close to the floor, ready to flee, but Kitkat merely hops over to the coffee table and stops in front of Zola. She tilts her head a bit to the side and then, with no provocation, starts to rub her face and side of her body on the dog.

ZOLA: (completely frozen in fear) What. Do. I. Do.
KITKAT: I like you right now. Let me make you smell like me.
JUJU: She has to be sick. There is literally no other explanation.
KITKAT: I am going to take a nap. Call me when you guys start acting normal.

Kitkat saunters off to the bed-closet, head and tail high, leaving everyone flabbergasted.

JUJU: I think this has been the most uneventful day ever. Probably close to downright boring. I'm so used to playing referee all the time.
THREE: Maybe Kitkat has turned over a new leaf.
JUJU: Methinks you may be wrong. She'll be back to stalking the little one and randomly swiping at Zola any day.
THREE: It could happen.

Juju picks up the folded towels and makes for the actual closet in between the bathroom and the bed-closet, and Bina, thinking that it was now food time, jumps to her feet happily.

BINA: Food?

Grossly miscalculating a) the slickness of the pleather chair and b) the relative distance from said chair to the arm of the sofa, Bina attempts to jump but instead flails to the floor, dragging a blanket and two books from the side table. Zola thinks it's playtime, and Bitsy, under the misconception that the noise is actually Kitkat coming to attack her, bolts ... somewhere? and trips Juju, sending Juju to the ground and the laundry flying everywhere.

JUJU: Serenity now. Serenity. Now.

The End.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

I'm Officially Too Old for This Shit

Confession: I wait for the ice in my soda to water it down because the taste is too sweet for me to enjoy. I also actively seek out puzzle books by Dell and Penny Press. That being said ...

The other day, in an effort to simply get out of the house, I went on a long walk that ended up with me exploring the mall that was only about two miles away from my apartment. As a former mall employee*, I usually steer clear of these giant monuments to the 80s and 90s shopping style (INDOORS! FOOD COURTS! AWFUL CARPETS! PLAY AREAS WITH GIANT THEMED CLIMBY-ON-Y THINGS!), since I am unusually attuned to the frantic atmosphere**, but I figured, what the hey, I'll give it a go.

It wasn't nearly as hectic as I remember it, but then again, it was the middle of the day on a weekday, so I'll probably just save my final evaluation for when Black Friday decides that it's that time of year again. I got to painlessly*** explore Joann's Fabrics, Ross Dress for Less, and Bath and Body Works****, and I even got so brave as to dare to enter Charlotte Russe and Forever 21.

That's when I first realized something felt off. I couldn't pinpoint from where it was coming, but I found myself a little overwhelmed after I'd been in F21 for a little over five minutes. I assumed it was because the store was SO. MUCH. On this stark white backdrop was every loud color imaginable, and I was irritated at the extreme bias they showed toward gold jewelry (I have a cool skin tone, and gold, in general, just looks horrid on me). I did notice a few cute things+ but I was overall unimpressed.

I continued through the mall, aimlessly wandering in and out of stores (hi, GameStop!) without buying anything, and then I saw one of my old fashion haunts: American Eagle. I was more of a PacSun girl, because what teenager-early-twenty-something who lived in a landlocked state didn't need beach wear? Anyway, I actually still own a few sweaters from back in the day - my magenta one has holes in the armpits, but I can't bring myself to throw it away because I love it too much - so I decided to check out what was being marketed to the kids these days. I nearly freaked people out with all the side-eye I was giving. What is this shit? Well, that doesn't look comfortable. Wait, can't I get a twelve-pack of those t-shirts elsewhere for not $35? Why in the hell are they selling mom jeans? Mom jeans are cool? Dear God, denim shirts? Oh, well, those strappy sandals are actually pretty cute. Hang on, is that an elastic waist on that denim vest dress? The fuck, it is. Why did I throw away/reuse as throw rags/donate to Goodwill all those fugly dresses from when I was younger? I would have made a killing on ebay/Etsy. Now, to be fair, from what I've read online, American Eagle is definitely floundering when it comes to their target age group (see: me in high school and college), as are similar stores like Aeropostale and Abercrombie & Fitch (good.), so I guess I can't really be all "YOUTHS!!!" about it. At least they seem to recognize that the brands have grossly overestimated the value of their names, as seen by the ridiculous prices they try to use.

But that's not really the point here. In an effort to see if it was me or just that I'd just experienced an isolated event, I revisited the previous clothing stores that were aimed at people at least eight years younger++ than me and came to the same conclusion: I am officially too old for this shit. It just doesn't appeal to me at all. I don't really like super-duper short dresses, which should please my mother, and skater dresses just look like the time when people were buying dance wear even though they never even took a ballet/tap/jazz/whatever class in their lives. I can't wear rompers because the damned crotch is too short. High-waisted jeans look bizarre on my body, and hahahaha what, they are selling overalls again+++??

For those of you my age, or older/younger, more power to you if you can pull any of that off. I'm jealous. Your clothes shopping is that much easier. I, on the other hand, have to figure out where to get my shit. What are my options here? I'd hate to have to fall back on the Pyramid Collection++++ here. And that's not even my biggest problem, since online shopping really is my forte, for the most part. Despite my earlier mentioned apprehension about going out to shop, when it comes to clothes, I prefer to try it on before I purchase it. (Same goes with shoes.) Ross Dress for Less seems to be my best chance at finding something, but by the time I've gone through the store fifteen times and found a grand total of one thing, I've lost all interest in finding a dressing room. It's a vicious cycle. But I'm up for any input here, really. I'm in some serious need of new clothes - a lot of what I own is starting to show some serious wear, like holes and tears - and things are just getting downright desperate for someone who is no longer a girl, but not yet a woman.

Really, that was just an excuse to post this video.

* During high school, I worked at Sam Goody/Suncoast, which was a pretty awesome job, and I worked there from the time I was sixteen until graduation and then the Christmas season during my first year of college. Once I graduated from college, I worked at The Limited for about two months before I tired of dealing with annoying, entitled customers.
** This is why I think online shopping was made with me in mind, particularly when it comes to the holidays. I swear, the sheer desperation of people - shoppers trying to find the perfect gift, the poor salespeople at the kiosks and perfume/makeup counters, etc. - is mentally and emotionally exhausting. I can't stay in that for too long or I start acting like a person who's expecting an assassin: paranoid and overreactive and quite bitchy.
*** One thing I've noticed, at least in the places that I've visited here, is that nobody overuses the air conditioning in Louisville. In Nashville, I usually felt like I had to carry a sweater with me whenever I went into any kind of business, but not so here. It's ... curious.
**** Yeah, big surprise to me, too. I'm usually having the fight the sales associates off with sticks and telling them, "No, I do not need a mesh bag to carry my single spray bottle of good smells. But thanks." Maybe their corporate office got the memo that people a) find that affected cheeriness creepy as hell and b) don't like to constantly be asked if they need help as they peruse the new candles.
+ I think I'm one of the only people my age who's excited that crop tops are back in. My body isn't perfect, but fuck, it's hot outside. If global warming is going to make even this desert lover wish for an ice age, please provide me with clothing that gives my skin a chance to breathe and not steep in its own sweat.
++ True story: I actually had to Google "Where do teenagers shop?" Because I'm That Person. I wasn't sure if the kids were going to Rue 21, Forever 21, etc., but apparently, I was correct. See also: TJ Maxx.
+++ Okay, overalls are awesome. They are the ultimate in comfort, but hahahaha they are trendy again and I just can't help but laugh. I think this is how my mom felt when polyester and bell bottoms came back in style when I was a young teenager.
++++ You know what? Who cares. I love the Pyramid Collection. If I could, I'd go on a shopping spree and buy this. Or this. Or this (It has pockets, you guys. This is quickly becoming a requirement of mine). Or this ("It's Rufflesible!" ... whatever that means?). Or ... actually, this list could get realllllllllly long.

Friday, July 4, 2014

Life with Pets: Don't Mess with Routines - A One-Act Play

It is morning in the Three-Juju household, and Juju is at work, providing financial services that fuck people over with high-interest rates help people make it between pay checks, leaving THREE to his own devices. On days like these, as per usual, he has his schedule set pretty regularly, where he has just returned from taking ZOLA, the slobbery bulldog, for a glorious walk. While KITKAT is splayed lazily on the couch, BINA sits directly in front of the door, ready for The Routine to begin. Zola flails about because she is Zola.

ZOLA: I pooped and it was amazing and I forgot what I was doing.
THREE: Let me take off the leash, dog.
ZOLA: Is it food time?? It should be food time.
BINA: Agreed? I am hungry?
THREE: Guys. You know the routine.
KITKAT: Whatever.

Once he's able to wrangle the leash off of Zola, Three continues in The Routine, heading for the bathroom where he takes care of his ... business (aka pooping)*. As he's sitting on the pearly throne, he notices that his ankles are hurting him a bit. He rubs them gingerly and grimaces.

THREE: Hm. Maybe I should take a bath to take care of the aching. 

Zola forgets that she hates the tiny room where the Tub of Evil exists to torture her with baths, so she barrels into the bathroom. As she sees that Three has turned on the Wicked Water, she slowly backs up.

ZOLA: He can't see me, can he?
THREE: Zola, this bath isn't for you.

Zola retreats more quickly than a bulldog should. Three rolls his eyes.

THREE: I'm sorry that I messed up The Routine, Zola, but my ankles are killing me.
ZOLA: (off stage) I don't understand what you are saying over the WICKED WATER.

The tub starts to fill up, releasing a pleasant warm mist into the air. Three takes a deep breath, ready for some R&R. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Bina flies into the bathroom, fully expecting there to be an empty tub, for you see, based on The Routine, Bina would come to visit Three on the toilet and would play with whatever hair band had been left on the side of the tub. Instead, her little furry body is met with a half-full bathtub. 


She leaps upward, desperately scratching her claws on the wall to keep her from plummeting back into tub, but alas, she plops down, this time, completely drenching her. She then scrambles to pull herself out and zips out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of water behind her. Three doesn't know if he will ever be able to stop laughing and simultaneously feels awful for the poor kitty.

THREE: (in between chortles) Bina? Are you okay?
THREE: I'm sorry, Bina.
BINA: (offstage) I'm never coming out from underneath the bed. 

The End.

* How he schedules his poops baffles Juju.