Don’t Be So Ridiculous, Monica

“Monica! Time for dinner!” Mother shouted from the kitchen.

Monica looked up from her desk, and replied, “Mother! Can’t you see I’m busy?” Papers were strewn all over her desk, papers that may in fact, contain the cure for every possible disease. Maybe.

Mother walked over to Monica’s desk. “What’s all this then?” she asked, gesturing to Monica’s cluster of bubbling, glowing, and smoking vials of strange chemicals.

“I’m working!” Monica said.

“Are you sure you’re not just pretending to be busy? This looks like the stuff from movies, not actual science.”

Feeling annoyed, Monica said, “Mother! I know what I’m doing.”

Mother sighed, “Why can’t you be more like Linda? She always came to dinner. She had her priorities.”

Monica looked up from her work. “Mother…what’s with this Linda again?” Monica asked, worried. She didn’t know any Linda’s.

“Monica! Now you listen to me; come to dinner. It’s not healthy to work so tirelessly.” Mother placed a hand on her daughter’s back and added, “A mother is always right you know. I speak with a British accent so it’s obvious I’m right.”

Monica kneaded her forehead, and fiddled with numbers on a calculator. “Mother, we’re in England. Everyone speaks in a British accent.”

“Not you, apparently!” Mother shouted, wagging her finger at Monica.

“I…what? Yes I do,” Monica said defensively. She was born and raised in England! Of course she spoke with a British accent. She put down her papers and faced Mother.

“That fake accent? It’s hardly British,” Mother continued.”You’re just taking advantage of the fact the reader can’t hear your accent through text.”

“Mother!” Monica said, shocked. She fumbled through her papers for her glasses, put them on, and stood up to face Mother. “You know I don’t like it when you do that!”

“What, breaking the fourth wall?” Mother sneered. “Or do you mean revealing that there may be something unnatural in our world, that the reader has yet to guess?”

Monica grabbed Mother’s hand, and said in a begging tone. “Mother! There’s nothing unnatural in our world! Calm down, please.”

“Oh?” Mother pulled away and turned around. “You just don’t want the readers to figure out yet we’re not human!” Feeling very triumphant, she put her one hand on her hips, and pointed the other into the air, striking an action pose.

“What?!” Monica said, her face white and shocked. Monica ran out of the working area and sped to the bathroom, saying, “We’re very much human…Oh goodness, please tell me you’ve been taking your medication, Mother…”

Mother followed after Monica, and peered into the bathroom. Monica opened up a cupboard, and rummaged through an assortment of safety sealed, orange bottles.

“What are you talking about? It’s obvious we’re all dragons.” As Mother said this, she grew green scales and wings.

“Oh no!” Monica cried, holding up an empty, semi-transparent orange container. “We’re out of the medicine the psychiatrist prescribed for you! I’m so sorry Mother, I should have had these refilled two days ago.”

Mother snorted at Monica, blowing smoke at her through her long, pointed snout. Monica grabbed Mother. She shook Mother, crying “Mother! Snap out of it! You’re hallucinating! S-stay right here, I’ll get these refilled.”

But Mother already flew away, breathing fire onto the villages of England.

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