Little Maid Boy

Little Maid Boy
Chapter Three: Dresses and Unscrewing

VVL 69: Hehe . . .
Vivi: *crossly* . . . What?
VVL 69: What bug crawled up your ass?
Vivi: You're really mean. I never asked to be kidnapped.
VVL 69: Well, twists are twists.
Vivi: And what a poor twist it was. I mean, come on. You didn't even explain how I got kidnapped.
VVL 69: Ah, for crying out loud . . . *plugs ears* I can't believe I put up with him.
Vivi: And another thing . . . *pulls out long list of grievances against the author*
[Vivi continues talking, unaware that he is not being heard]
VVL 69: Read on!

~~~~

"I'm hungry."

"Shhh . . . Master's working."

"What is he making?"

"I don't know."

A small group of mages stood huddled outside the door to Kuja's tailoring room, watching with bated breath the frenzied clipping of thread and whirring of a small spinning wheel.

"Ah," they heard Kuja declare, "this will be perfect." Black cloth was lifted and set down onto the table, and then the process of clipping and whirring was begun once more. A design was secured onto the wall in front of the silver-haired Genome with long dressmaker's pins.

The mages all craned their heads, trying to see the fragile cream-tinted paper.

"Oh," one of them murmured in puzzlement, "it's a . . . dress?"

"A dress?" The others were equally stymied.

"Hmm, that's strange . . . " 112 raised an unseen eyebrow. "Why a dress?"

"I don't have any idea," 83 shrugged. "And what do you suppose it's for?"

67 stood behind the group with a frown on his shadowed face. This seemed all too familiar, and he had a feeling that their Master had something very, very dark planned for one of their own.

"But who . . . ?" he wondered aloud, a bit too loudly.

"What is it?" 132 inquired, turning to face 67.

"This . . . this is bad," 67 sighed. "Very bad."

"How do you know?"

"I just do," 67 whispered. "I just do."

~

'Vivi.'

'Hm?' Vivi raised his head fuzzily, finding his eyes would not open.

'Call him by his name, you should not.'

'He is the prototype.'

'The prototype he may be, but also trapped is he. No way out is there.'

'Zorn . . . ? Thorn . . . ?'

'The prototype knows us.'

'Knows us, the prototype does.'

A lever was pulled, lifting Vivi's arms into the air.

'Aaaaah! What's going on?!'

'Hee-hee-hee!' Zorn's hands--or were they Thorn's?--lowered to Vivi's hat and lifted it from his head.

'Nooooo!' Vivi struggled to cover his short blond hair with his hands, but only succeeded in clashing his arms together as the sound of tearing fabric was heard.

'Damn! Torn his arms, he has!'

Vivi squealed as a sharp pain pricked his arms repeatedly, spiking through his flesh. 'Stop it! Leave me alone!' Another pain, this one more urgent, pounded him with waves of agony; it felt like the top of his head was being . . . unscrewed . . . ?! 'Owwwwww--'

'Shut up!'

And suddenly Vivi's entire face, as well as his body, felt numb. The amber of his eyes flickered, then faded to a nearly nonexistent crimson.

'Finally. Have you found it?'

'Found it, I have.'

And the last thing Vivi saw, before darkness descended upon him, was the approach of a tall, shadowed figure . . .

~

Vivi: Lame, lame, lame . . . everyone knows you can't unscrew the top of a doll's head.
VVL 69: Depends on what kind of doll you are.
Vivi: I'm not that kind of doll . . .
VVL 69: They don't know that.
Vivi: *reads script, then tosses it in a nearby wastebasket* Forget it. There's so many plot holes in this thing that I wouldn't touch it again with a ten-foot pole.
VVL 69: Eh, everyone's a critic. XD