Fingers crawl into my armpits, but I know they're not real. Another dream -

No, I'm wrong again. Flopping around real slow. I guess I'm awake. But the fingers won't be visible, oh no they won't.

"Morning," Valet says. "Up."

"No."

"Amigo..." Its tone doesn't impress me as much as the fingers do, as they slide further in.

"Alright, alright." I roll out of bed, yawning, coughing a few times. "What time is it?"

"Nine."

"Why the hell did y-"

"School time."

It takes a second or two for that to sink in - and I'm clawing for the door frame.

My fingers are pulled loose by... nothing. Strong, patient hands. "Jeez," it says conversationally. "Quit being so paranoid."

So I'm basically marched down the stairs, into the room where we usually hang out - and Scuzz looks up from his softcore biker-porn mag. The son of a bitch grins at me.

"Hey."

"Sorry," he says, growling the way he does. "The look on your face."

"Hit the bricks, scumbag," Valet says happily.

Scuzz's expression changes. Uh-oh. But he wastes no time getting out of the room.

 

I'm sat down in my favorite chair. A quick whistle gets me to look, and a pack of smokes is tossed my way...

"Are you gonna pay attention?," it mocks me. "Or do I have to tie you up?"

"You never <i>have</i> to tie me up," I grumble.

"Sure I do."

"Playing," the DVD player says softly. I frown at it, sighing.

"I'll get your coffee," Valet says.

This video is only a couple years old, but I look so much more innocent...

 

<em>Testing. One two three. Say something.

Wha - NAAAAAH hah hah haaahaawwwlll...

Good. You know, heh, I wanna test it some more. Make sure it's working.

Nnnaah haaaaah nnnuh hah hah hah...</em>

 

"Look," I tell the floating mug, "do I really have to hear this part?"

"Hmmmm," Valet says. "It's so amusing."

"Valet."

"Okay, okay."

The remote hovers, aiming, bobbing slightly as buttons are pressed.

 

<em>Don't make me do this. I don't wanna do this. Eeeeeee heee heeeee heeeee hee -

You sure?

Okay! Okay okay I'll do it. Stop...

Heh.

Uh... shit.

Now.

I'm Boyle. I have to tell my whole life story because fuckin' Valet is making m-

Careful.

Dammit. Valet is, uh, insisting... Okay?

Keep going.

Okay. I will... I'm supposed to whoo hoo haw haw haw nnnn knock it off!

Sorry. Heh heh. You're just so fuckin' irresistible.

You done?

For now.

Of course... Shit. Okay. My name is - hey.

Go ahead. I'm not going to touch you.

Yeah, sure. Look... knock it off. I mean it. Get that fuckin' finger away from my heel.

Hee hee hee.

I don't know where to start. I mean, how far back -

Just relax, asshole.

Okay. Yeah. The butler.

Go.

When I was little, we had a butler. The whole deal, very British. I didn't know yet that we were rich... The guy's name escapes me, but he was so proper and formal it made me want to look behind him and pull the stick out of his ass. I used to stare at his gloves, though. How anybody could wear those things all day and not get 'em dirty was just beyond me. I was famous, around the mansion, for making a mess as soon as they finished giving me a bath. So there were nannies and maids scrubbing me a lot. Sometimes even my mom. Until she went to Europe, one winter, and stayed there.

Aaaaawwww.

Fuck you. Let me tell this. I didn't know then that my dad hated my guts. Or why, but I found out having a kid around that probably wasn't his didn't sit too well with a big powerful tycoon like him. And I made her uncomfortable too, so I was on my own pretty early.

Poor little rich boy.

My ass... I'm just gonna ignore you.

Good luck.

So. Some of the staff tried real hard to make it up to me. Four of 'em, especially. They're set up, now, so they'll be more than comfortable for the rest of their lives. Do I get any extra credit for that?... Valet?

Don't ask me. I'm busy. Planning what's gonna happen to your armpits.

Aw, shit. Uh... My nanny, and one of my teachers, they were terrific about talking with me - about anything - and that made all the difference, far as I was concerned. And I had this big stuffed ape. Corilla. My best friend in the whole world.

Careful.

No. Best friend ever. Dammit. Corilla... That was because I didn't how to say a 'G' yet. Pretty scary expression on his face, but I knew that was for anybody who gave me shit.

Heh heh heh.

Oh, n-no!

You mean, shit like this?

Naw huhh haw haaah haaaaaw...</em>

 

And the playback pauses, with a shot of me looking far happier than I really was -

Valet sighs. "Okay. You gotta get ready for work now."

This is confusing. "Uh, I -"

"Scoot."

 

When days start out like this, I can't concentrate for shit. Really, it's a good thing I'm expected to be useless. When they figure a way to squeeze me out, just about everyone will be relieved. Valet, especially. I'll be able to stay home even more than I do now...

Dammit, I wish I wouldn't think of stuff like that.

 

I come in the door, and go to hang my keys up on the little rack - but a glove swoops up and takes 'em away.

"Gotcha," Valet laughs.

"Uh-huh," I say, not so impressed anymore with its grasp of the obvious. "Where's S-"

Click - and from the overhead speaker, I hear laughter. And I'm talkin' gravelly, desperate, at the end of his fuckin' rope cackling.

Frowning, I just nod once.

The speaker shuts off....

 

When I walk into the kitchen, a covered plate floats out of the oven.

"Got me some other bikers," Valet tells me proudly. "I had to see how they stack up to the Scuzz-man."

"Is that so," I say, sitting down.

"What's up with you?," it asks.

I just shrug, trying to be nonchalant - which is fuckin' impossible where Valet is concerned.

"Is it... school?"

"School," I shoot back bitterly.

"It is, isn't it? You seem apprehensive, buddy."

"Well. I can't know what you got in mind, <i>buddy,</i> until it happens."

"Oh," it says quietly. "I guess that's right."

"Uh-huh -"

"No contact. Okay?," and it sounds eager to please. Sometimes it actually is, but I've also fallen for that one before. "Tonight I just want you to watch the video we made, and... think."

"That's it?"

"Uh-huh. Promise."

I'm not reassured, exactly, but I relax a little. "Alright then."

 

<em>Now, where were we? Corilla. That's it.

Valet.

You better start talkin', now.

Shit. Leave me alone... This one night, when my dad had blown me off, so obvious about it, I was feeling sorry for myself. Sniffling, unable to sleep. I put Corilla's arms around me, and hugged him. And... uh, he squeezed me back.

Go on. I like this part.

I was afraid - for about half a second. But it was Corilla, after all. I was still young enough to believe in magic, and no one had told me that magic couldn't actually happen. So I hugged him harder. His paws moved, patting me, stroking my head... In the morning, I stared at him for awhile and told him that even if it was only a dream, I was really glad. He didn't move, during the day. Man, I can still see him there. Listening to me.

That's cool.

When I crawled into bed that night, and pulled back the covers, Corilla was wearing gloves. And I recognized them -

Oooooo. Yeah.

They were just like the butler's. I didn't know exactly what it meant, but I tried giving ol' Corilla another hug - and he squeezed back again, but not too hard. There was no way I could be afraid of him. And his gloves, uh, they soothed me until I fell asleep. I told my nanny about him. And the chambermaid. They thought I had a wonderful imagination. Then I told my teacher - oh yeah, and the gardener - but nobody believed me.

Sweet...

I decided it didn't matter. So what if they didn't think it was true? Every night my stuffed animal came alive. And I didn't question it -

Come on, now.

Hey. You wanna hear this? How the hell would I know any different? I got totally used to him... being alive. Sorta. It never occurred to me that it was unusual. Not until a whole lot later. I took it for granted - I mean, people don't usually run around talking about their pillows, or their fuckin' coat hangers.

Yeah, but - a stuffed animal that hugged you. That's straight out of a horror movie.

I hadn't seen any horror movies. I was, like six years old. Corilla never hurt me, unlike some -

Watch it.

Uh... right. Anyway. He stayed in my bed until I got bigger. I kept rolling on him, during the night, and it woke me up. So I had a long talk with him, and set him in a chair - right next to the bed, so he could guard me, and all I had to do was reach over and squeeze one of his feet whenever I felt like it.

Hmmmm.

Don't be gettin' any ideas -

Too late.

Naaaah heee heeee heeee -

Waaaaaay too late.

Aaaaah hah haaaah...

</em>

 

The DVD is paused again. After a few seconds, I look around...

Scuzz is dragging himself into the kitchen. Naked - except for his tattoos, everywhere - and real sweaty. He's still panting slowly, and he looks completely out of it. Something about the eyes.

"Hey. Get out of here," Valet barks.

Scuzz's head snaps up. Big eyes. Trapped expression. "But you... uh, you -"

"Yeah. Asshole. Go take a shower. You stink. Remember where the shower is?"

After a little thought, he manages to nod his head.

"Move it," Valet growls at him. "Shower. Get dressed, get on your fuckin' panhead - and go get drunk. Don't come back for a couple days. You got that?"

Even more confused than before, Scuzz nods - and manages to find his way back out.

"Was that necessary?," I say to the levitating remote control.

"I'm just havin' fun with him. Gotta know how to talk to his kind."

"Mean," I say firmly, as the DVD starts playing again.

 

<em>Let's see -

Okay, already. Shit.

You were up to... uh, the night after you kicked your best buddy out of your bed.

Don't say it like that. I felt bad. Sat there on the edge of the bed, looking at Corilla, there... I thought maybe I'd ask my dad if I could have a bigger bed. And I guess I was, uh, petting one of his paws -

One of the gloves.

Alright. Whatever. And it came loose.

Amigo.

Okay, I'm sorry. Back off... The glove came off his paw and floated there. Then the other one. And they went to my hand, and shook it.

Good to know you.

Real funny. So I was blown away. First Corilla, and now... his gloves. And I got up and hugged him -

What a cute little tyke.

Uh... thanks. He didn't hug me back, but his gloves landed on my shoulders and gave 'em a squeeze. It was okay.

Why, you son of a bitch.

It was... terrific! Wonderful!... Okay?

Hmmmm.

Don't. Please. Please?

You're gonna get it.

Yeah. Again. Figured that out already.

Have another smoke.

Thanks... It was real friendly. The way those gloves latched on to me. Nothing perverted about it.

Ungrateful little fuckhead -

Nooooooo!

You can forgot about smokin' for a while.

Whoooo hoooo hoo hooowheee heeeeee...

</em>

 

 

Scuzz and I are in the living room, watching a movie. Lots of car crashes, stuff blowing up.

Valet's hanging around too. As usual. I'm not sure how I can tell, but it is. Scuzz knows too, and he looked around, scowled...

He doesn't talk all that much - except when he's watching a movie. After a while I quit telling him to shut the fuck up, because he just ignores me.

Clearly, it's got something planned. Better not to know, I figure, since it's waiting for the movie to be over...

As soon as the credits start rolling, we hear it start to giggle. A DVD zooms over to the player.

"Hey, there's a kickboxing movie coming on," Scuzz protests.

"Anything to keep me away, huh? A couple hours without all my fingers driving you nuts..." And what could he say to that? Nothing. "Don't worry, badass. Sometimes I keep you waiting until the next attack. Keep you wondering..."

"Swell," I say. "But how long is this thing we're gonna watch?"

"About twenty seconds."

"Oh," Scuzz finally says, thinking hard.

"Yeah," it shoots back, mocking him. "Oh."

A freeze-frame of a young guy appears on the TV screen. No shirt. I see gang tattoos... and rope holding him to the chair. He's lookin' pretty furious, there.

Valet makes a happy growling noise. "This dude's hysterical, right now, in one of the lab rooms. But I couldn't wait to <i>share</i> something with you two. You wonder - they all wonder - why I get such a major fuckin' rush out of tickling. Of all things. Admit it."

"Yeah," I say noncommittally. Scuzz just nods once.

"Well - watch."

The image starts to move. He's panting hard, and he gives the rope one more desperate jerk. And he sags back. I know Valet hasn't laid a finger on him yet, because he's still angry more than anything. Sure, he's looking around - for the five or six guys that must've bagged him. Rivals, maybe gonna saunter in and beat the shit out of him now...

I almost have to admire Valet's timing. The sound of a finger-snap gets him looking in the direction of the camera, but not right at it. I doubt he even knows it's there.

"Hey. Are you... ticklish?"

His eyes get bigger. Slowly. The anger drops away, as if he was a bathtub being drained. There it goes. I look at his eyes and see the changes.

Childlike horror. Just for a second or two, and he snaps his head around, all 'banger again, tougher than shit. Then I see the disbelief taking over. How well I know it. The voice couldn't possibly have said the word I think it just said...

He looks around the room, with the expression of a lost little kid. Forlorn. Worried, showing it more than he probably knows, and filled with that gigantic wish to be somewhere else right now.

Finally, the hard squint. Exasperated, and resigned to a future which can't really be believed... and the tension in his face looks as if he's already in pain. Anticipating it as best he can. And I know how inadequate that is.

The TV goes blank. "You all do that shit," it says cheerfully. The DVD pops out and hovers in the air, bouncing very slowly - as if Valet was lost in thought. "Pretty much the same fuckin' sequence. What the hell, can't be happening, can't take it, don't wanna be here, can't do a thing to stop it, wonder how intense it's gonna get."

Scuzz is staring at the DVD very intently.

"But this is the best video I've ever gotten of it. That instant only comes around once, really. No matter how much I make you forget, there's only one first time. Right? One chance to tape what you look like when the idea of tickling first... hits home -"

"Uh-huh," Scuzz says immediately.

"You understand?"

I nod. "Yeah. I think we do."

There's a long, unsettling pause.

"Good," it snaps.

And the DVD cruises out of the room.