What Color is Danu's Parachute?

Autumn. A time of changes in a messy little bedroom in a tiny town somewhere.

Sir Edwin Valomyr, beloved Asian Ball-Jointed Pig, known all over the net for appearing in emo yet sexy photostories, tries out a new autumnal look: overly Photoshopped.

Even for the little Pigzone pigfie, things have changed. Although many members of Sty of Angels still feel her sculpt looks dreadfully like a cow and not like a real pig at all, the controversy surrounding her creation has died down. This is primarily because all the relevant threads have been locked for months.

With the advent of the fall weather, two tiny birds discuss changes in their lives.
Dreyer: The point is, we have to take our jobs seriously. Any job worth doing is worth doing well.
Sjöström: We don't have jobs. We're birds.
Dreyer: Of course we have jobs! We're pet birds.
Sjöström: We have responsibilities?
Dreyer: Sure. We have to be sure to eat all of our food. We have to be sure to poop on things, and sometimes we have to go the extra mile and poop outside of the cage liner, just to show we care. We have to screech loudly for treat sticks at four in the morning. We have to rock our cage back and forth during thunderstorms. The list goes on and on.
Sjöström: Woah. I had no idea our job was so hard. I'm going to start demanding more money. When's our performance review?
Dreyer: No, no, no. We have to do these things because they're worth doing, not because we hope for some reward.
Sjöström: Actually, come to think of it...I eat because I'm hungry. I poop because I have to go. I screech for treat sticks because they're good. I rock the cage back and forth because I'm scared.
Dreyer: See? Worth doing.
Sjöström: I guess. But maybe I should strike out. Try something new.
Dreyer: Like what?
Sjöström: Lion taming.

Here comes our heroine, Danu, with some...dinosaur bones?
Danu: Whew! Okay, I think I got these in without Tinker noticing. Yeah. That was pretty stealthy. I could practically be a ninja.

Enter Danu's roommate, Tinker.
Tinker: What the hell was all that noise? It sounded like a steam engine went through this room!! What are you doing?
Danu: Nothing. Look, I'm just working. I'm thinking of embarking on a new career. I don't really think I'm cut out to be a receptionist.
Tinker: What did you have in mind instead?

Danu: Forensic anthropology. I saw it on TV.
Tinker: Just like that? From receptionist to forensic anthropologist? Do you have any background in forensics or anthropology?
Danu: Well, I took a course in anthropology when I was an undergraduate. I got an A-, too. At Harvard.
Tinker: Wait...you went to Harvard?! And you're a receptionist?
Danu: I have a degree in eighteenth century British literature. The choices were reception or teaching. I think I made the obvious decision.
Tinker: But...but...
Danu: Besides, you went to Yale and you became a serial killer.
Tinker: Let's change the subject. Where did you get these bones?

Danu: Well, I decided I wanted to do this whole career switch thing, so I stopped by the local university on the way home from work to see the head of the anthro department there. He wouldn't see me, so I went back. Every day. For a month.
Tinker: Uh-hunh....
Danu: So finally, he called the police on me. And then I told the cute detective that...
Tinker: Yeah, okay. I can see this is going to be a long story. So you got the bones to show that you're a real anthropologist and prove yourself to the professor.
Danu: Right!
Tinker: Okay, but Danu? These are plastic bones. They're not real.
Danu: Of course they're real. "Triceratops Baby Bones." I got them off of eBay.
Tinker: They have pre-drilled holes for construction. There are little bits of flash hanging off and holes where the plastic was poured into the mold.
Danu: Those are age spots. That damage happens to bones over time.
Tinker: Danu...

Danu: Look, Tinker, this is really important to me. REALLY. IMPORTANT. It's so important I'm holding the bone near my heart to show you how important it is. So, can I just do this? Okay?
Tinker: Okay. I'll leave you in peace with your plastic bones.

Danu: The leg bone's connected to the...HORN thingy, and the horn thingy's connected to this OTHER little piece, and the other little piece is connected to the HIP bone....

Four hours later....
Danu: Uh, yeah. That looks pretty good.

And yet the skeleton looks strangely incomplete.

Tinker: Hey, Danu, I'm going out and wanted to know if you needed anything. Wait...what are you doing? I thought you were working on your skeleton.
Danu: No, I, um...I had to work on my group order for Other!!Socks!!Spaceout/Korea. It isn't going in for another fourteen days, but I thought I should just, you know, work on it. Now.
Danu sniffles a bit. Her lip trembles.
Tinker: Skeleton's not going well, eh?

More sniffles.
Danu: I guess forensic anthropology isn't really the job for me. I can't even get this baby skeleton put together. I guess my only claim to fame is that I'm a Sty of Angels mod and have a famous plastic pig. I guess that's really all I'm going to accomplish with my life.
Tinker: I thought your Asian Ball-Jointed Pig was made of resin.
Danu: Whatever. Sir Edwin and I are going out for a drink.
Tinker: You're taking the pig with you to the pub?
Danu: Yeah. Since he's the only claim to fame I've got.

Tinker looks over the mess for a moment, then sighs.

Twenty minutes later.
Tinker: There! He looks pretty good, even if I do say so myself. I'll just leave him here for Danu. Maybe he'll cheer her up. Although she still thinks he's real. That thing's never been more alive than it is right now.

When Tinker leaves the room, the plastic baby triceratops begins a jaunty waltz.
Plastic Baby Triceratops: Ain't I sweet, just a-walkin' down the street, now I ask you very CON-fi-DEN-tially, AIN'T I SWEET?
Dreyer: OH MY GOD! THAT THING'S MOVING!!
Sjöström: Squawk! Squawk!! Emergency! Emergency! Rock the cage back and forth!! Do it well, because I'll be damned if it's not worth doing now!
Plastic Baby Triceratops: Oops. Someone's coming.

Danu, a little fuzzy, has returned from the pub.
Danu: You were SO POPULAR at the pub, Edwin! I love you! Why, people bought you drinks ALL NIGHT! And I drank every one of them. And I am...so drunk. I feel sick.

Danu: Woah. Hey! Look at that! I guess I did a better job on that triceratops than I remembered. Maybe I was just frustrated. There you are, little guy. What a nice little guy. I'm gonna be a forensic anthropologist and I will say, "Hello, I'm Danu and I'm investigating this case and once I put together a triceratops and this is my Asian Ball-Jointed Pig, Edwin." Soon I'm going to get the respect I deserve.

But right now. I'm going to pass out.

Dreyer: ROCK THE CAGE! ROCK IT!! AAAAAAAAAH!!
Sjöström: Do a strategic loss of feathers! I think that thing's going to eat her in her sleep! We have to warn her!!
Dreyer: Hang on...wait a minute. Doesn't this storyline seem a little lame to you? I mean, a talking plastic triceratops?
Sjöström: Yeah, but in our last installment you made believe that a dingo ate our babies.
Dreyer: Yeah, but I was under duress.
Sjöström: Should we worry about the writer?
Dreyer: It's hard to say. In the meantime, though, I think we should pitch in and do our own jobs well to make hers easier.
Sjöström: How?
Dreyer: Well, I see a bit of clean cage liner over there...
Sjöström: I'm on it!
Dreyer: Doesn't a job well done feel good?
Sjöström: Yep. I bet most people have no idea how hard it is to be a bird.
Dreyer: Or a writer.
Sjöström: Or a famous Asian Ball-Jointed Pig.
Dreyer: Or a forensic anthropologist, receptionist, or serial killer.
Plastic Baby Triceratops: Or a plastic baby triceratops.
Sjöström: AAAAH! ROCK THE CAGE!! ROCK THE CAGE!!!!

 

 

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If you liked the triceratops, check out www.stikfas.com for some really neat toys!! (The US retailer where I got them was ToyWiz.)

And by the way, before you feel too sorry for Danu, I should mention that she's really quite based on me...besides the degree in lit part, I'd already written the part about her not being able to put the bones together, and I then discovered that I had to ask my husband to help me figure out how to put the plastic toy together! Oh, well. I guess you write what you know. ;)

©2006 by Darkwood