Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Zippy Zipperdale: Moderately Mad Scientist ❯ The Sixth Experiment ( Chapter 6 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
ZIPPY ZIPPERDALE:
MODERATELY MAD
SCIENTIST:
The Sixth Experiment
By Hardcover
It could be said of the Bergeson Laboratory that it was, in fact, one of the most secure privately owned research centers in this part of the country. It was late in the early hours of the morning, darkness still gripping the night outside as its employees slept. The lab was empty at this hour, completely; the closest thing to occupation was a guard that came by past the door once an hour. The Lab had the highest tech security systems in the world on every entrance and exit, key and password coded doors and every little piece of mind giver that money could buy.
Late at night, the lab was silent and quiet, the only sound being the slight hum of the refrigeration units that housed the preserved human organs, in particular the impressive collection of brains, donated to science by the genius’ that originally possessed them after they had cast off their mortal coil. Here, the most remarkable brains of recent history were studied and analyzed, with the goal of one day understanding how to make people smarter, for anyone who’s ever walked around outside had seen the need for such an eventuality.
Hence, the tight security on the large laboratory that occupied the entire 98th floor of the massive BuildingThe designers had thought of every eventuality. Everything, that is, except for one: Since the lab was on such a high floor, it hadn’t occurred to them that someone might come in through the window. This was, at this time, exactly what someone was doing.
The three figures lay flat against the glass, held on by super compression suction cups that held them firmly to the side, even in the strong wind. Not one of them looked down. They were dressed head to toe in black photo camouflage gear that was rigged with tiny micro cameras along the material that took video and projected it along the opposite side of the suit. This did not render them invisible, but it did make it hard to spot them. The three burglars were small and thin, and if they could be spotted were distinctly female in shape. One of them was cutting open the window with a small laser.
Once the window was cut; she used one of the suction cups to lower the glass to the floor on the inside. Once done, they all slipped quietly into the lab. They quickly made haste across the laboratory floor, employing a dizzying series of means to break all the safeguards. Once the heat and pressure sensors were off, the video cameras looped, and the lasers deactivated, and every obstacle taken care of, the three thieves moved rapidly and purposefully towards the collection of brains.
One of them brought with them a small portable refrigeration unit, which she placed on the floor as the other one, the one who had cut the glass, began looking through the canisters that preserved the brains of the brightest. After a little bit, she found the one she wanted. Bringing it to her, she carefully began to remove it from its home.
One of the other thieves spoke, “Come on Zippy, let’s hurry this up.”
“Can’t rush this, Krystal.” Zippy replied, “This one is perfect, we can’t afford to damage it. She was our age when she died, had an IQ of over 210, and was child progeny from age five. Scientist, musician, artist, engineer, she did it all. This is exactly what we need.”
Opening up their refrigerator, Krystal removed another brain while Zippy quickly slipped the stolen one in. She then put the new brain into the stolen one’s original housing and placed it back where she had found it. After making sure that the new brain was properly refrigerated and preserved, they sprinted back to the window and made their escape, using a different laser to reattach the glass. They scaled back down the building and disappeared into the night.
It would be six months before the break in and theft was even discovered, and the authorities were stumped. Not only had the thieves left no trace of themselves, but the police were baffled at how they’d managed to get in make off with their score. Not a single trace of the burglars had been discovered, and how they’d gotten in would remain a mystery.
Likewise, the lab owners were very embarrassed that it took them six months to realize that a prized human brain had been replaced by one from a chimpanzee.
For the first time in a long time, Zippy Zipperdale was finally back home. Specifically, she was in her basement, carefully sewing stitches on her new project, but she was home with her family, if only for a few weeks. She moved her hands dexterously, carefully moving the needle in and out, making sure the stitches were tight and close together. It was meticulous work, but necessary.
They had been at Zippy’s house for two days, and her parents had joyfully welcomed both Lizzy and Krystal in the house for the break. Being as enthusiastic as always, they had let them all set up their experiment in the basement; not even batting an eye when all the scientific equipment started showing up. They even allowed Zippy to keep Jetson’s tank in the living room. Although, truth be told, they did start looking a little worried when cases labeled “live organs” began arriving. Still, they had been accepting, and let them work.
The basement was a wide, standard basement, with wooden steps leading down from a door in the south west corner. One the opposite side sat two small windows looking out into their back yard on either side of the wall that let in a bit of additional light. The basement was lit overhead by a simple bulb, but Zippy had set up her own lights for her work. The only thing originally in the basement before had been the washing machine and dryer, and a small sink next to them along the east wall.
Now, the basement was filled with machines lining the west wall, large and small, all hooked up with a dizzying array of cables. There was a wooden desk in front of the south wall that had two top of the line laptops on it, also hooked up to the machine, and a large steel frame in the center of the room under which sat the table that Zippy was working on. A few chairs were scattered around, and camcorders on tripods recorded their work.
Zippy glanced around at the others: Lizzy, dressed in a shot black sleeveless dress, was crouched behind one of the large machines they were using, carefully securing some cables. Krystal dressed in jean shorts and a tank top, was taking a break, sitting on one of the chairs, reading a magazine. Zippy smiled a little, she looked so damn feminine like that, and she was impressed with how far Krystal had come. She sat with her legs crossed, reading a hairstyle magazine. It was hard to believe it had only been a month, but Zippy now regarded Krystal as a friend, although she could still be a pain in the ass sometimes. It was hard to believe they’d been such bitter enemies when she’d been Cristobel.
And Zippy had to admit, she couldn’t have done this project without her. They had used Krystal’s tissue regenerator to do the internal parts of the project, but had run into trouble using it on the external portions. It was Krystal who had figured out that the reagent they were using had interfered with the tissue regenerator when fused with the external cells. And so, here was Zippy using old fashioned stitches. She’d found a special steel alloy that was very tough, and should make the stitches hard to tear.
There was the sound of the door opening, and Zippy looked up to see her mother, Melody Zipperdale, coming down the stairs with a basket full of laundry. Melody had aged very well, a fact that made Zippy a little grateful that she had fifty percent of her DNA. She had a round, pretty face, slightly long nose, and wide brown eyes, all of it circled by a wavy mane of brown hair that went to her shoulders. She was casually dressed in a t-shirt and jeans that still showed off her thin but curvy figure; a little bit too curvy for Zippy sometimes, and she lamented the fact that she had not inherited her mother’s bust line. Zippy chided herself again for her jealousy.
“Hi, guys.” Melody chirped as she came down.
“Hi, Mom.” Zippy replied, looking up before returning to her stitches.
“Hi, Melody.” Krystal and Lizzy said in unison.
Causal as ever, Melody had insisted that her daughter’s friends refer to her by her first name. Zippy suspected it was because “Mrs. Zipperdale” made her feel old.
She came down to the bottom of the stairs, holding the load of laundry under her arms. Grinning happily and obviously thrilled to have her daughter back with her.
Melody said, “I’m going to be making lunch soon, will you guys be up to eat? I know your busy, but you’ve gotta have food in your bodies.”
Zippy nodded, “Just give us an hour to finish up here.”
Melody moved towards the washing machine and the stopped when she got to the sink. She looked inside it, her mouth twisting a little in disgust.
“Uh . . . Zippy?” She began, staring at the contents of the sink, “What . . . what’s this in the sink?”
“That would be the old brain.” Zippy replied.
A few days later, everything was ready and they were all set to try. Sophisticated electronic equipment decorated the west wall of the basement, cables running from the back onto that large metal frame that sat in the center of the room. Sitting next to the equipment was a large metal tank from which tubes ran leading to injectors on all four struts of the frame. Small but powerful generators lined the north wall under the windows, connected to both the equipment and the frame by a series of thick snaking power cords. On the north side of the frame sat two long fold up tables on which sat three top of the line lap top computers. Cables from the lap tops ran to the equipment and to the frame.
In the center of the frame, sitting on a metal support, lay the table with their experiment under it, covered by a white sheet. Chain lifts ran from the front and back of the table to the top of the frame. All around the frame and behind the computer tables, camcorders on tripods prepared to record the experiment. They were as ready as they would ever be.
As Zippy, Lizzy and Krystal were going around there last preparation, dressed in lab coats just to be professional, the door opened and Zippy’s parents came down the steps, looking around the room excited. Melody dropped down the floor first, followed by her husband Jasper, who held a small camcorder of his own. The two looked like your typical proud parents.
Behind them, Zippy’s younger brother Zachery hopped down. He was one year younger then Zippy, and just as smart, however considerably lazier. He had brushed back sandy blonde hair and a round face decorated by small rectangular glasses. He was dressed in blue jeans and some kind of Japanese Animation T-shirt. Zach as they called him was an obsessive fan of that stuff, referring to himself as an otaku. Zippy thought that was an odd thing to admit to, since even anime itself tended to make fun of otaku.
“Hey, Zip.” Zach said as he came, and then waved enthusiastically at Krystal, “Hi, Krystal.”
Zippy smiled, Zach had all too obviously been completely taken with Krystal ever since he first saw her. He’d found every excuse he could to come down and hang out with her. Needless to say, Zippy hadn’t told him that Krystal used to be a guy. Krystal, for her part, had been blissfully unaware of Zach’s designs on her, having had no experience with it before.
Some more people were coming down the stairs.
“You’ve got some visitors, Zippy.” Her father said glancing up at the small group coming down to the basement, “a few people would like to witness your moment of glory.”
Zippy grinned, it was all the gang she’d used to hang with before going to Petri’s. The first one down was her emo neighbor Jason, dressed mostly in baggy black clothes with thick black hair that he’d streaked with light browns and blondes, and which hung down over half his face. He was casual and pretty much accepting of everything no matter what it was. Zippy had never seen him get mad.
The other boy was Todd, a local jock from her old school who was much smarter the usual stereo type led you to believe. He was the sort of athlete who looked like he’d never had a pimple, with dark blond wavy hair brushed perfectly back over his head and held with mousse, and long chiseled features over a well toned and muscular body. He was dressed all in trendy fashions as usual, that hadn’t changed. Like a lot of star athletes, Todd let it go to his head a bit, but not so much as to make him unbearable.
He was flanked as always by his girlfriend, Mirabelle. Mirabelle was a quiet and reserved girl with wavy brown hair and large glasses who Zippy had met through the science club, which was actually how she knew Todd. Mirabelle and Todd had been an odd couple, since it was an unwritten rule that star jocks date cheerleaders, but it wasn’t like Mirabelle was some homely nerd: She was strikingly beautiful and had keen fashion sense that complimented her well proportioned figure quite nicely. Although she was quiet, she wasn’t really shy, and dressed to show up her body, like right now, wearing a pink sleeveless half top and a white short jean skirt.
The last one down was Zippy’s across the street neighbor, Mandy. Mandy was a tiny, diminutive shy girl who dressed to conceal her figure as much as possible. Zippy was aware that Mandy was actually much curvier then she looked in the baggy shirt and long dress she was wearing. Mandy had dark brown hair that went down to her shoulders, and a round and pretty face decorated with huge brown eyes, sometimes resembling one of Zach’s anime girls.
Mandy lived right across the street, and as such, had been friends with Zippy and Zach since they were kids. Mandy was easily frightened and tended to be skittish, so Zippy and her brother had dragged her to endless horror films just to watch her freak out. Her reaction to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre had been hysterical.
In her hands she clutched a familiar plastic box. Mandy was an avid baseball fan and as such had developed an affinity for collecting baseball cards. That box was where she kept them, so she had probably wanted to share some of her recent acquisitions with Zippy. She waved politely as she came down, clutching the box.
“Good.” Zippy said, “You’re all just in time for the experiment. And the more witnesses the better. Can I get everyone to stand back a little, please?”
“Cool.” Jason said.
Everyone backed up, her parents looking at each other proudly, her father taping her like he was taping a sporting event. Of course, none of them had any idea what Zippy was about to do. Lizzy went around turning on the equipment, and then turning on the camcorders. When she was finished, she sat in front of one of the laptops, and began reading the screen. Krystal went and stood by the equipment.
Zippy looked into the camera and began to give her presentation, “Good evening, today, you are about to witness a historical experiment. Using up to date scientific methods, we are about to conduct an experiment in the creation of life.”
Everyone looked at each other uncertainly, including Jasper and Melody who weren’t sure what their daughter was driving at.
Zippy continued, “Specifically, the procedure you are about to witness, will attempt to reanimate a new human life form, one constructed from scratch from the best available human material that could be obtained. Our subject has been carefully and completely constructed, and if this procedure is a success, we will breathe new life into it, and create and brand new human being.”
Now there were surprised gasps and frightened looks. Jasper and Melody were exchanging alarmed looks, having never suspected what their daughter might be up to. Mirabelle moved close to Todd and slightly behind him, while Todd looked like he might want to hide behind her just the same.
Only Jason was enthusiastic, grinning from ear to ear, “Awesome! So you’re gonna make a Frankenstein?”
“Frankenstien was the name of the scientist, not the monster.” Lizzy reminded him.
Mandy fixed her eyes on the sheet covering the table, realizing for the first time that the lump underneath it did bear a resemblance to a human body. Her eyes grew wide and her lips trembled with fear.
“Uh . . . Zippy,” She asked timidly, her voice trembling as she pointed to the table, “I . . . um . . . is that . . .?”
Zippy looked back and nodded, ‘That is our constructed human, which, hopefully, we will bring to life in a few minutes. The theory is not a new one; all life as we know it is a chemical reaction anyways, so it stands to reason that if you were to find the right chemical combination, you could effect re-animation in deceased organism. Using a combination of newly developed re-agent, and careful electrical stimulation to ‘jump start’ the nervous system, I believe, hopefully, that we will achieve re-animation with this process.”
She then added, “Cross your fingers.”
Jasper asked, his voice trembling a little, “Zippy? Are you sure this is safe?”
“Nope.” Zippy admitted.
Zippy donned a pair of thick rubber gloves and pair of dark goggles. Lizzy handed out duplicate goggles to every one else. Mandy was so scared she had trouble putting them on correctly. One everyone had their goggles on, Lizzy returned to the table and Krystal switched on the machine. I low hum filled the room as the generators kicked in and the devices lit up, sending flickering lights across the basement walls.
Looking up from the computer screen, Lizzy said, “Were all set, all vitals at flat line.”
“Throw open the switches on the sonic oscillator.” Zippy said, “And step up the reactor power input three more points.”
Krystal adjusted several of the machines, the hum grew louder and the lights flashed more. Mandy bit down on her fists, rickety with fear. All the others stared with shock as the machines grew louder and louder. Zippy’s parents were still glancing at each other nervously, but her father kept his camera pointed at the action none the less. Only Jason watched with interest and enthusiasm, as usual.
Moving to the side of the table, Zippy gripped the chains with both hands. With long pulls she yanked the chains, rotating eh whiles. With a low creaking sound, the table lifted off the small lets and rose towards the top of the massive frame. Zippy quickly backed up once it was in place and waiting until the machines finished starting up.
Throwing out a finger, she cried, “Igor! Throw the switch!”
“Bite me!” Krystal cried and threw the switch.
There was a loud creaking noise and then a crackle of electricity. The frame flashed with blue sparks and arcs of electricity that flashed all over the basement like a strobe light. Suddenly, the body began to jerk and pulse as volts of electricity coursed through it, causing its muscles to spasm as its nerves were temporarily energized. The loud cracks of the shocks filled the basement, drowning out all other noise as the body jerked and twisted with arcs of lightening crackling all around it.
There was a loud thump as Mandy passed out cold on the floor.
Zippy waited until she thought it had had enough, and then she gestured for Krystal to stop. The arching lightening ceased and the crackling sputtered down and stopped as soon as Krystal threw the switch. Reaching over to the chain again, her hands protected by the metal gloves, Zippy lowered the platform about half way, right in front of the large injectors. Her hair stood on end a little from all the electricity in the air, held in place by the unique construction of the frame, effectively creating an electrically charged bubble within the struts.
Stepping back, Zippy ran to a switch on the side, “Now! Inject the re-agent!”
Krystal grabbed the next switch and pulled it. There was loud groan from tank and the volumes of glowing green liquid flowed through the tubes into the injectors on the struts. Zippy grabbed the switch on her side and threw it as soon at the liquid reached all of them. The injectors lurched forward, piercing the covering and the flesh and burying themselves deep within the assembled body beneath. There was soft chugging sound as the injectors began to pump the whole body full of the re-agent.
With a gurgling noise, the entire tank was emptied into the body. Zippy then lowered it to the stand on the bottom, and again electricity arced, now streaming from the top of the frame into the concealed body.
Zippy was giddy with excitement, she had never been so enthusiastic about a project before.
“Live! Live! Live!” She cried excitedly at the experiment.
Finally, the electricity stopped and the machines shut down. Zippy clutched her hands together and waited.
Mandy staggered back to her feet, woozily, and the eyed the frame again with fear.
“Still flat line, no vitals.” Lizzy informed them.
Zippy stared at the platform, and at the sheeted body on top of it. She bit down on her lip, waiting for any sign of life, and little movement. She looked up and down with an increasing deflation, it wasn’t moving. A sinking feeling began to gnaw at the pit of her stomach. She dropped her hands, starting to feel hopeless; there was no movement at all from the body.
“Still flat line.” Lizzy said.
Zippy turned away, moving back to the table. She felt completely deflated and despondent; she had been so sure this would work. The sting of failure stabbed at her heart as she leaned on the table, a depressed, dismal look on her face. She thought she was going to cry any minute now as disappointment flooded every inch of her body.
Zippy’s parents exchanged a relieved chuckle, looking at each other in respite.
She felt Krystal’s hand on her shoulder; she looked up to see a rare expression of sympathy on the girl’s face.
“Don’t worry, Zippy.” Krystal said soothingly, “We’ll make this work.”
Zippy patted Krystal’s hand, her eyes welling up with the beginnings of tears; she hadn’t felt this disappointed about the failure of any project in a long time. The grief was almost like loosing a friend; she had felt so completely positive that they could do this experiment. Now, not only would they not be making history, but they were right back where they started from, and had just wasted a lot of time.
With a considerate sound to her voice, Melody spoke up, “Zippy, honey? Maybe . . . Maybe you should try something . . . something a little less . . . ambitious . . .?”
She was cut off by Lizzy’s excited cry, “I’ve got neural activity!”
Zippy ran to her and looked over her shoulder, quickly joined by Krystal, “Where? How much?”
Zippy stared at the screen, the neural activity was spiking all over the place, the levels rising rapidly. Krystal quickly looked at the other laptop and the bio readouts scrolling across the screen. The neural activity quickly increased, surging close to conscious levels.
“I’ve got a heart beat!” Krystal cried ecstatically, “I’ve got blood pressure increasing! Holy @#%$! The lungs are inflating, its breathing!”
Mandy squealed in horror, hiding behind the others as Zippy looked back at the motionless body under the sheet. Suddenly, the sheet shifted as something moved underneath it.
“It’s alive!” Zippy whispered.
Her heart pumping with excitement, Zippy ran to the table, her hair standing up again because of the electrically charged atmosphere. She grabbed the sheet and yanked it off the table, revealing the body beneath.
It was wrapped, head to toe in gauze bandages, looking like what an Egyptian mummy might have looked like right before it went into the sarcophagus. Six wide leather straps held the body down on the table, which Zippy quickly began to undo. When she was done, she leaned over, looking at the wrapped up body as the chest visibly rose and fell. And then, one arm started to rise, moving upward a little further and further.
Mandy fainted again, collapsing to the floor.
Zippy screamed elatedly, “Yes! Yes! It’s alive! It’s alive! Oh my god! I’ve always wanted to say that!”
Coming over quickly and joining Zippy, Lizzy and Krystal helped the bandaged creation sit up and then stand while every other still conscious person in the room stared in astonishment. The creature was taller then everyone else in the basement, easily past the six foot tall mark, and displayed a curvy feminine body underneath the tightly wrapped bandages.
“Man, your own Boris Karloff, wicked.” Jason said.
“Uh, that looks like that’s a woman there.” Mirabelle said.
“Dude, you are so right.” Jason cocked his head, “Who played the bride again?”
At the moment, nobody really cared that it was Elsa Lanchester. They stared in utter stupification as the newly created woman shuffled around, getting its footing. Mandy woke up again and cringed as she saw the tall bandaged wrapped figure in front of her. Immediately, Zippy unwrapped the bandages on the head, pulling them off and freeing the creature’s face.
Long strait black hair spilled down the monster’s head over her shoulders. The girl’s face was, all things considered, very beautiful, in its hauntingly absurd way. She had a round, robust face with wide eyes and a small, perfectly proportioned nose over full, pouting lips. Her hair was a silky velvet color that shined a little in the dull lights of the basement. Zippy had been forced to comprise with her eyes, not being able to find a perfect pair, or at least two perfect ones the same color, her creation had a blue eye on the left and a green eye on the right. A snaky line of small stitches ran up diagonally through the middle of her face, stating at the right side of her chin and ending over her left eye. Hidden mostly by her hair, a line so thick stitches marked where the top of her head had been sewn together. On her neck was another circle of stitches where here whole head had been attached, just bellow the two round bolts on either side where the electricity had been conducted.
The creation looked rapidly and curiously from place to place, and person to person as Zippy unwrapped the bandages around her stomach, checking the line of stitches there and then unwrapped her hands, checking the attachments on the wrist. Again, Zippy had been stuck compromising with the hands: the creation’s right hand was from a Korean woman, while her left hand was from a black woman.
Zippy looked up into her creations face as she continued to look around her, taking everything in curiously.
Zippy asked her, “Can you speak? Come on, I know you can; I put your tongue in there myself.”
The creature opened its mouth and made a noise, “Whhaglllhrahhh.”
Licking her lips, she tried to speak again, this time her voice came out in a surprisingly high, light, girlish voice.
“Where . . . am . . . I?” The creation asked.
“You’re in my basement, in a laboratory we set up.” Zippy said, fidgeting her hands with excitement.
The answer seemed to satisfy the creation; she turned her head back to its previous rapid movements, looking at the other people in quick glances. She stopped when she saw Jasper holding the camera, and attempted a smile and a bit of a pose playfully. Suddenly, she furrowed her brow in thought.
The creation turned back to Zippy, “Who . . . am I?”
“We haven’t given you a name yet.” Zippy told her, moving closer, thrilled at the inquisitiveness the creation showed right off the back.
Jason spoke up, “You should just call her ‘Stitchy’. She’s got enough of ‘em.”
“I . . . Stitchy.” The creation repeated, smiling, apparently liking the name.
Looking around the basement some more, Stitchy looked back to Jasper and his camera. She grinned at it again a waved, causing Jasper to back up a little bit. She then tuned back to look down at Zippy.
“Who . . . are you?” Stitchy asked her.
“I’m Zippy. I created you with Lizzy and Krystal here.” She said putting on hand on Stitchy’s bandaged wrapped arm, “I gave you life.”
Furrowing her brown once more, Stitchy rubbed her chin thoughtfully, “Gave Stitchy life? Then you . . . ?”
All at once, Stitchy smiled widely and looked back to Zippy.
“Mommy!” She cried and grabbed Zippy in a tight bear hug, lifting her off the floor.
Zippy felt pain rush through her and Stitchy’s strong arms felt like they were going to crush her. She was gripped in a vice like squeeze, almost like getting compressed by a boa constrictor. She cried out and struggled trying to break Stitchy’s grasp.
“Ah! Stitchy!” She screamed in alarm, “Too tight! Too tight! You’re squishing me!”
Instantly, Stitchy let go, dropping Zippy back to the ground, clapping both hands on her mouth, “I sorry.”
Zippy put her hands on her knees and drew in deep breaths in large gasps, “You’re . . . a little stronger then we had anticipated.”
After a bit of silence, Melody spoke up nervously, “Uh . . . who wants burritos for lunch?”
Stitchy raised her hand.
While the others went upstairs, Zippy, Lizzy and Krystal remained to take care of a few things on Stitchy, unwrapping her bandages all the way and giving her a quick physical exam. Stitchy had been cheerfully compliant, inquisitively asking what each procedure was about. She also quickly took to referring to Zippy as ‘Mom’. Everything seemed to fine, and Stitchy’s mental capacities seemed quite adequate, as she understood most of the machinery in the room, and quickly impressed her creators with her ability to solve complex math problems in her head. Zippy was at a loss to explain her strange speech patterns, referring to herself in the third person constantly. When done, Zippy gave her one of her old dresses to wear, and they brought Stitchy upstairs.
The dress was a long, baggy outfit on Zippy, but on Stitchy it amounted to a mini dress, just barely covering her up. As she walked, Stitchy showed ample amounts of her long stitch covered legs and arms. As the four of them came up the stairs and crossed over to the large dining room, they could hear everyone talking in low whispers. It all stopped the minute they entered the room, so it was no mystery what they were talking about.
Stitchy looked around herself curiously, taking in every bit of the house as she saw it for the first time.
“Mom lives in a big house.” She chirped happily.
They approached the table and took their seats. Jasper and Melody were seated at the front of the table, Todd and Mirabelle across from them, and Mandy on the other end. Zippy, Lizzy and Stitchy took seats to Melody’s right, while Krystal took a seat on the other side next to Mirabelle. Jason sat between Lizzy and Mandy. Instantly, Zach slipped into a chair next to Krystal, so completely and obviously taken with her. It seemed to Zippy that she’d finally started to notice as she got a little uncomfortable.
As Stitchy sat down at the table, everyone stared at her nervously; except for Mandy who eyed Stitchy with undisguised fear. Seemingly blissfully unaware of the commotion she was causing, Stitchy simply looked around the room as curiously as ever.
Tentatively Melody said, “Uh, Zippy, I didn’t make a burrito for your . . . project.”
“That’s okay.” Zippy assured her, “I don’t want her to eat solid food until I know how well her digestive tract works.”
Zippy produced a few bottles of baby food and spooned it out onto Stitchy’s plate. Stitchy regarded it and the burritos on everyone else’s plate and then looked down at her own in disappointment. Zippy was elated when Stitchy picked up her spoon and began to use it without being shown how and gushed compliments at her creation who blushed and giggled.
Jason piped up, breaking the ice a bit, “So, do you get to do stuff like this at your school all the time?”
Zippy brightened, “Not like this, this is a completely unique project. But we’ve done some pretty amazing stuff with the resources we’ve got.”
“Like what?” Mirabelle asked timidly.
Lizzy spoke up with her usual flat tone, “We perfected and performed the world’s most advanced gender reassignment surgery, for one thing.”
Zippy tried to kick her under the table, but missed.
There was an uncomfortable pause, and then Todd said, “Uh, and some guy actually volunteered for this?”
“Actually,” Krystal spoke up, “They knocked me out and did it to me when I was unconscious.”
There was a shocked silence as everyone turned to stared at Krystal, who simply shrugged and smiled.
“I’m good with it.” She said casually.
“They did a good job on you.” Zach said enthusiastically, not discouraged one bit by the revelation, “I think you’re beautiful.”
“Uh . . . thanks.” Krystal stammered, suddenly blushing.
Mandy looked from Krystal to Zippy in confusion and horror, “Who are you and what have you done to Zippy Zipperdale?”
There was a pause, and then suddenly everyone just had burst out laughing at the comment. Everyone except Mandy who looked down at her plate, her face still frightened and scared. The rest of them started to loosen up a little bit and eat, trying to get used to the bizarre turn of events.
Melody felt like she was in a dream. She’d known her daughter was up to something peculiar. Hell, how could it not be with that weird school she was in? It had been like a nightmare from the start, finding out that Zippy was in some kind of mad scientist school, and that legally there was nothing they could do about. Even more when she’d realized that Zippy had embraced the school whole heartedly, even bringing her experiments home, along with the weird talking squid that now lived temporarily in their living room.
She sighed and zipped her juice, whishing it was bourbon. She suddenly became aware that her daughter’s Frakengirl was staring at her with those creepy mismatched eyes.
“Who are you?” Stitchy asked her.
Melody set down her glass and took a deep breath. Be nice to it, she told herself, your daughter worked very hard to create that thing and her grades are riding on it. The least you can do is be civil to it.
She forced a smile, and said warmly, “I’m Melody, I’m Zippy’s mother.”
Stitchy touched her chin, looking back to Zippy in thought, “Mommy’s mommy? Then you’re . . . ?”
Stitchy brightened up and turned back to Melody with a wide grin.
“Grandma!” Stitchy said happily.
Melody almost chocked on her drink and got angry right away, fuming at the choice of words.
“Hey!” She shouted, “I’m too young to be a grandma! I was at for Christ sakes!”
Stitchy swallowed, holding up her hands, “I . . . I sorry.”
Turning away, she whispered to Zippy, “Mommy’s mommy real sensitive about her age.”
Zippy nodded in agreement.
Zippy climbed steps leading out of the basement, having gone through some more of the test data on Stitchy. Most of the visitors had left except for Jason who was talking to Lizzy about something they both had in common.
The rest of lunch went off without a hitch with most everyone starting to relax and exhibit some curiosity about Stitchy. Everyone, that was, except for Mandy, who continued to regard Stitchy with trepidation. Made worse when she went into the living room and encountered Jetson, waving his tentacles and greeting her enthusiastically, sending the timid girl running out of the house screaming.
When Stitchy had asked if all these people live in the house, Zippy had told her no, that they were neighbors and pointed out that Mandy lived right across the street. The answer seemed to satisfy the inquisitive Frankengirl. She took her back down to the basement got her undressed and performed a few more tests on her. After wards, she dressed her again and sent her upstairs while Zippy worked on a few more notes before realizing she hadn’t run all the tests she need and heading back ups stairs with the others, minus Lizzy, who had seemed to disappear without telling anyone. Also she realized she had to change her shirt, as she’d gotten a lot of lubricant from the frame on it.
When she entered her bedroom she was in for a bit of a shock: Stitchy was there, leaning all the way over Zippy’s desk looking out the open window, which faced the front of the house, looking down on the front law from the second floor. In the small dress she was wearing, the skirt had rode up and exposed her panties to whoever happened to walk into the room, which happened to be Zippy.
“Woah . . . uh.” Zippy started, turning red for a second.
“Handsome boy.” Stitchy remarked without taking her eyes off whoever she was watching.
Zippy walked over and pulled her skirt down, grinning sheepishly, “Sure, sure, very handsome boy. Now keep your dress down, ya’ ho.”
Zippy kicked herself as soon as she said that, realizing that Stitchy might not realize that she was kidding. But Stitchy paid the comment no mind, continuing to stare out the window with both her hands under her chin.
“Handsome boy.” She repeated dreamily.
“Who are you looking at anyways?” Zippy wondered leaning over the desk and looking out the window as well.
She saw a tall boy from the neighborhood talking to a local girl. He was dressed all in denim, wearing blue jeans and a jean jacket that was open to reveal a t-shirt with some band on the front that Zippy wasn’t familiar with. He had wavy brown hair brushed back and moussed in place, and deep blue eyes over a very well proportioned face. All of which was set on an athletic body that was obvious even under the jacket. Of course, Zippy knew he had a jock’s body anyways; she’d grown up with him. Yes, he was very handsome, although he was the poster boy for the dumb jock cliché.
Zippy smiled, “That’s Derek Simpleton, he lives two houses over. Good taste, actually.”
She straitened up and turned her back on Stitchy, pulling her stained shirt off and tossing it in her hamper. She opened her closet and selected a simple grey half top that left her midriff a little bare and slipped it on comfortably.
As she did so, she said, “Listen, Stitchy, I’ve got some more tests I’d like to run on you. Nothing too scary, just some extra information I need. Is that all right with you?”
She turned around and was stunned to find the room empty, Stitchy was gone, no where to be seen. The door to the room was right next to the closet; no way could she have left that way. Zippy looked back and forth befuddled, until she looked out the window and yelped in horror: While her back was turned, Stitchy had simply unhitched the screen and crawled out the window, lithely crawling down the ivy trellis next to the window and dropping to the grass, not a surprising feet considering that her legs came from a Cirque Du Solei gymnast and dancer. Zippy could see her on the front lawn, gleefully heading towards Derek.
With a squeal of alarm, Zippy ran out of her bedroom and out the front door of the house chasing after her.
Derek had his back to Stitchy as she approached, talking amiably with the other girl, Peggy. Peggy noticed Stitchy first as she came up behind him, and gasped in fear and surprise. Derek, seeing her expression, and not being quite that slow on the uptake, turned around to see what she was looking at. His eyes grew wide as the giant sized girl, covered in stitches, came up to him with big ear to ear grin on her face.
“Hi. I Stitchy.” Stitchy chirped pleasantly.
“Uh, hi.” Derek said cautiously, looking up at the huge girl,” I’m . . . uh . . . I’m Derek.”
“Handsome boy, Derek.” Stitchy said stepping closer to him, looking down at the boy from her higher vantage point.
“Uh, thanks.” Derek replied timidly.
“I kiss you.” Stitchy announced.
She gripped his shoulders with her large hands and lifted him off the ground, bringing him up to her face. Eagerly, she opened her mouth and then planted a kiss on his face with her lips wide open, looking not so much like she was kissing him and more like she was trying to swallow his whole head. Derek shivered in her grasp, but couldn’t get her to let go.
Zippy ran up behind her, realizing she was already too late. She grabbed Stitchy’s arm and the frankengirl dropped Derek to the ground, who promptly lost his footing and fell back on his ass, staring up at odd girl who had just kissed him. Peggy stood behind him, clapping her hands over her mouth to suppress her laughter, her previous fear now replaced entirely by amusement.
Zippy pulled Stitchy away and back towards the house, hastily apologizing, “Sorry about that, won’t happen again.”
As she was pulled away, Stitchy gleefully waved to Derek, “Bye, Handsome Boy Derek. Call Stitchy.”
“Come on, lover girl; let’s get you back to the house.” Zippy said sternly as she pulled her giant creation along.
Peggy couldn’t stop herself anymore, and burst out in uncontrollable giggles. That girl hadn’t been dangerous at all, just affectionate and fun. It was hilarious the way she’d lifted him up and smooched him like that.
Derek stared after them, a slack jawed look on his face.
“Wow.” He muttered.
Back down in the basement, Stitchy sat naked on the table while Zippy and Krystal ran a few more tests on her, poking and prodding her as necessary. She sat there cooperatively, if slightly annoyed by the constant jabbing. Zippy had wanted to get Lizzy’s help as well, but she couldn’t seem to find her. Even so, the tests only took a few minutes to complete and soon Stitchy got dressed again and Krystal and Zippy went back upstairs to collate the data, telling Stitchy to stay put.
Wandering around the room, Stitchy gazed with interest at the large contraption that she was told had given her life. If Zippy was her mother, perhaps this rather ugly conception of struts and machines might be her father, in a way. She ran her large hand over the strut, looking it over with her keen vision. Something foggy rose in her brain, she recognized a lot of this stuff, she knew what it was called, but she couldn’t remember form where.
She looked around until she found the laptops on the table. Looking them over, she realized she knew how to operate them. She smiled, about to sit down and bring up the internet, when she spied something in the corner, lying on the floor. She went over and crouched down over it, looking it over.
It was a box, about the size of shoe box, but made of a thicker material. It had fallen open, and small cards lay scattered on the floor. Stitchy picked one up, and saw a picture of some good looking man in a uniform with a number on the front swinging a large wooden club. She furrowed her brow as the information came back to her: A baseball player; this was a baseball player and these were baseball cards. And one hunky baseball player at that, Stitchy licked her lips playfully as she gathered up the cards and put them back in the box.
It looked familiar; she’d seen this box before. She looked at the lid and saw the inscription, “Mandy’s baseball cards.” That’s right; Mandy had this box when Stitchy had first come alive. She slipped all the cards into the box and thought about it for a second. Mommy had said that Mandy lived in the house right across the street.
Stitchy smiled, she would just have to return them to her.
Leaving the basement, Stitchy carried the box out the front door and walked to the edge of the street. Remembering foggily what this was, and that she should look out for cars, she looked both ways before crossing up to the large well landscaped house where Mandy lived. Somebody had watered the front garden as it was damp and puddles of water were pooled up here and there. The garden was set up in various levels separated by red brick in curved patterns, filled with a spectacular array of colored flora. Stitchy stopped to gaze at them before heading up to the door.
For a split second, she was confused as to what she was supposed to do now. Then it came back to her and she jutted one large finger out and pressed the door bell, hearing a few bars of something play when she did. She giggled; it was somehow a little amusing.
She heard the muffled sound of footsteps approaching the door and then the sound of locks being undone. The door swung open, and Stitchy smiled as she saw Mandy in the doorway. Mandy’s eyes grew wide as she saw her.
“Hi, Mandy . . .” Stitchy began.
But Mandy only screamed in terror and slammed the door in Stitchy’s confused face with a loud bang. Stitchy flinched in surprise; this wasn’t what she had expected. From behind the door, Stitchy could hear Mandy’s panicked, shrill voice screaming.
“Go away!” Mandy shrieked, “Leave me alone, you horrible ugly monster!”
Stitchy took a few steps back, perplexed by Mandy’s reaction. After all, she had simply come to return her baseball cards. She thought about ringing the doorbell again, but then thought better of it. She felt hurt, and sad by the way Mandy had reacted, and that didn’t feel good. She had only tried to be friendly.
Stitchy bent down and left the box on the porch, and with a depressed sigh, turned her back on the door, starting to walk back to Mommy’s house. She couldn’t understand why Mandy would be afraid of her; she certainly wasn’t going to hurt anyone. A stabbing feeling of loss gnawed at her belly, she had wanted her and Mandy to be friends. She couldn’t fathom why she had reacted like that.
And then Stitchy caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the puddles.
Zippy climbed out of the basement, frustrated and annoyed. She’d told Stitchy to stay put, but obviously she hadn’t. In a way, that was a good thing; her creation was demonstrating more independent thought then she’d anticipated. But for practical reasons, it was irritating. She couldn’t just have her creation wandering off whenever she felt like it. She had her grades riding on this after all.
She wandered around the house, looking for Stitchy. The house was large, but there wasn’t that many places the giant girl could be hiding. Getting worried, she went back and forth checking the rooms. For that matter, where the hell was Lizzy? Zippy hadn’t seen her in hours, where had she wandered off too? She started to fret, hoping Stitchy hadn’t gotten herself hurt. As she walked through the living room, Zippy finally spotted her across the street by Mandy’s house, crouched down and looking at something in the garden.
Zippy groaned with exasperation, she’d not only left the basement but she’d left the house. She would have to be clearer in telling her that she wasn’t to go wandering off by herself. She probably should say something similar to Lizzy, where in the world had her roommate gone? But no, Lizzy could take care of herself; Stitchy was the primary concern. Christ, what if something happened to her? She walked out the front door purposefully and crossed the street to where the large girl still crouched, looking into a puddle of water.
“Damn it, Stitchy!” Zippy said sternly, “You can’t go wandering off like that . . .”
She stopped dead as Stitchy looked up at her, and Zippy saw tears streaming down her face. Her first reaction was scientific: She’s crying! Even the tear ducts work! But then she saw that her creation was genuinely upset about something, even miserable. Stitchy sniffed, her body shaking as she sobbed, more tears running from her mismatched eyes down her cheeks. She looked up at Zippy with a heartrending sadness.
Zippy’s annoyance and anger quickly washed away replaced by concern.
Stitchy held her hands to her face, “Scary?”
Zippy opened her mouth, but only a gasp came out. She knelt down next to Stitchy, putting a hand on her shoulder, troubled how. What in the world had happened to her?
“Who said that?” Zippy asked her soothingly, “Who said you were scary?”
“Mandy.” Stitchy blubbered, “She scream and say Stitchy horrible ugly monster.”
“Mandy?” Zippy asked.
“Stitchy come to return Mandy’s box. Mandy’s baseball cards.” Stitchy wailed, “But Mandy scream and slam door. She call Stitchy horrible ugly monster. And look at Stitchy’s face, it true. Stitchy horrible and ugly.”
As Stitchy dissolved back into sobs, Zippy gritted her teeth, “Mandy’s an idiot. She scared of everything. She’s even scared of sock puppets.”
A small giggle appeared from Stitchy, “Really?”
“Really.”
Looking back at her reflection, Stitchy’s brief smile faded, “Stitchy ugly.”
Zippy put her arm around her and lifted her up, bringing her back to the house with her, “No, that’s not true, Stitchy. You’re very beautiful.”
“You have to say that!” Stitchy whined, “You Stitchy’s Mommy!”
Yeah, Zippy thought, that was probably true. She took Stitchy up to the house and inside where she found Krystal talking to Zach, who was looking at her with reverential eyes as usual. They both looked up and stood when they saw Stitchy crying.
Melody entered and did the same thing. She hesitated, as she was still very nervous around the huge frankengirl. Especially since her daughter had made her stronger then a normal human being. But as she stared at it, she could see how distraught Stitchy was. The fear began to ebb away, Stitchy certainly did not look like any sort of monster, and she simply looked like a sad and hurt young girl. Taking a deep breath, Melody went over to them.
As Zippy led Stitchy back to her bedroom and sat her on the bed, still sobbing. Melody came over and knelt down, putting a hand on her stitched up shoulder, slipping easily into her soothing tone of voice she used with her kids.
“Honey, what happened?” Melody asked, feeling a little strange calling her that.
“Stitchy just got her first taste of bigotry.” Zippy answered darkly, before explaining what had happened to everyone.
Listening to what Stitchy had gone through just trying to be nice, Melody felt a pang of guilt; she hadn’t treated the weird assembled girl that much differently. Of course, her creation had been a complete and total shock. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of her reaction, even though it was a perfectly normal reaction to finding your child doing Frankenstein experiments in your basement. Still, Stitchy didn’t look like she was going to be tossing any little girls into lakes.
Hearing the commotion, Jasper entered the room and quickly understood the situation. Very quickly, everyone was crowding around Stitchy, attempting to consol her.
“It true.” Stitchy moaned, “Stitchy scary and ugly.”
“No, that’s not true,” Zack told her, half because he was trying to score points with Krystal, “You’re concentrating on the stitches, the rest of you is very pretty. Trust me, I’m a guy, I know these things.”
Stitchy managed a tearful giggle.
Suddenly, Zippy realized one person was missing, “Where’s Lizzy?
Krystal shrugged, “Dunno. I haven’t seen her.”
After a while, they managed to cheer Stitchy up a bit, Zippy turned and left the room, going out the front door to give her best friend, no, make that her former best friend a piece of her mind.
After Zippy left, Melody went to the kitchen to get Stitchy something to drink. As she went through the living room, the doorbell rang. Frowning, Melody walked over to it and was surprised to find the Simpleton boy, Derek, standing out on the porch. He looked nervous and shuffled his feet timidly.
“Derek? What can I do for you?” Melody asked.
He blushed a little bit and didn’t answer right away. When he finally did, he stuttered a little with anxiety.
“Um, hello, Mrs. Zipperdale . . . I . . . uh . . .” He stammered.
“Yes?” Melody asked, somewhat put off by his embarrassed manner.
“Um . . .” He asked, and then smiled a little, “Is Stitchy here?”
Sometime after the monster had left, Mandy’s father had come home. Mandy had remained her room, trembling, and hadn’t told him what happened yet. She was still up there, agitated and scared, expecting that huge horrible monster girl to come bursting through the door to wrap her hands around her neck any second.
Why? Why would Zippy have made something like that? She shuddered, thinking of the horrible thing, and what it might have wanted to do to her. She thought of its huge size, it horrid criss cross of stitches, and those weird different colored eyes. In her mind, the creature had looked positively evil. She shivered again, pulling her legs up to her chin. Was she going to die? Would that thing come in from across the street at night and kill her in her sleep. Fear gnawed at the pit of her stomach.
So much so that she jumped and yelped when she heard a nock on her bedroom door.
Her father’s voice came from the other side, “Mandy, honey, you have a visitor.”
The door opened, and Mandy was surprised as Zippy walked in the room. Ignoring the hard look on her face, Mandy ran to her, her eyes wide.
“Zippy, you’ve got to destroy it.” She grabbed her friend by the shoulders, “It was here, it was trying to get me. You’ve got to kill it before it’s too late.”
“Mandy, what are you . . .?” Her father said, perplexed.
And then, suddenly, Mandy was reeling back across the room from a quick powerful blow to the side of her face. Pain radiated out from her cheek and her teeth clacked together hurtfully. She staggered back, dazed from the impact, and fell to the floor, jarring herself even more. She looked up bewildered to see Zippy standing over her with balled fists and a look of rage on her face.
Zippy had slapped her.
“Zippy! What the hell!” Mandy’s father cried and started forward.
Zippy shoved a familiar box angrily into Mandy’s hands, looking at her hard, “Stitchy was just trying to return these to you. You left them at my house.”
Mandy looked at the box in surprise, “My baseball cards.”
She had forgotten all about them.
“She was just trying to be nice,” Zippy hissed through clenched teeth, “And what do you do? You called her a ‘horrible ugly monster’.”
“Mandy!” Her father said aghast, “You said that to someone? I taught you better then that!”
“Dad, you haven’t seen her. She’s . . .” Mandy began.
“That’s enough, Mandy!” Her father interrupted, “I’ve tried to teach you not to judge people just by the way they look.”
“But . . .” Mandy tried again.
“I found her crying looking at her reflection.” Zippy shouted at her, “You really hurt her, Mandy. She’s just getting to know herself, and you cut her down. She was completely in tears. Now she thinks she’s ugly.”
Zippy angrily shoved Mandy down again, “Stay away from her.”
And with that, Zippy turned and stormed out the door. Mandy’s father stared down at her, a severe expression of disappointment on his face. He shook his head and turned his back on her, walking out the door and closing it behind him.
As he left, she heard him say, “I’m sorry about her.”
Mandy gritted her teeth: That was her Dad, always believing everyone else before he’d believe her. Always so sure that she had to be in the wrong, always so sure that she didn’t know what she was doing, or that the other person simply had to be right. It was an irritating trait, but in this situation, Mandy was starting to feel that maybe he was right.
Looking down at the box in her hands, Mandy felt the fear dissipate, only to be replaced by an even worse feeling: Guilt. She thought about before, and began to realize some things that she hadn’t noticed. Jesus, when she’d opened the door, the creature had been smiling. There had been nothing threatening about its . . . about her manner at all. Zippy was right, she had only been trying to be nice.
She clutched the box, shivering in shame: Her father was right too, she had let her fear cloud her reason, and she’d treated Stitchy badly just because of the way she looked. It was a prejudice, she realized, she’d been acting no better then some racist asshole scared of the black family on the corner. Tears moistened her cheeks, she felt horrible, worse then she had when she’d been afraid.
She clutched the box to her chest and whispered “I’m sorry” to no one in particular.
Still fuming but calming down a little, Zippy crossed the street and went back to her house, entering the front door and heading for her room to see how Stitchy was doing. She was still so mad at how Mandy had treated Stitchy, after she’d worked so hard to create her. She wondered, briefly, if this was how her mother felt when she got over protective of her. A smile crossed her face; that wasn’t really the same thing. But, as she’d created Stitchy with her own two hands, she did feel somewhat protective of her. And truth be told, it had made her heart ache a little bit to see her crying like that.
Zippy climbed the stairs, thinking to herself. It was Mandy’s prejudice that irked her the most; the way she’d been so convinced that Stitchy was something evil just because she was different. Stitchy had been friendly and nice sine she first came to life, not a hint of malice in her, and yet Mandy had seen her as Jack The Ripper. Zippy bit her lip; she didn’t think she’d be friends with Mandy anymore after this.
She stopped as she got to the door of her room, surprised to find her mom, her brother and Krystal outside the half closed door, peering in like they were spying on someone. They were hunched over, looking for all the world like characters on a sit com, watching with rapt attention.
“What are you guys doing?” Zippy asked.
“Shhhhh.” He mother put a finger to her lips.
Zack looked up, grinning, and whispered, “Look, Stitchy has friend.”
Curious, Zippy crept over and peered in the doorway to see what they were staring at. To her surprise, she saw Stitchy sitting on the bed next to Derek Simpleton, taking happily. Looking over their body language and facial expression, Zippy realized they were flirting with each other, and Stitchy seemed to have fallen into it naturally. Zippy’s scientific mind clicked on, intrigued by this new grasp of social interaction on her creation’s part.
“She’s interacting socially,” Zippy breathed, “And with a member of the opposite sex, this is fascinating.”
“She’s flirting.” Melody grinned.
“And she’s good at it.” Zack observed.
“I have to document this developing behavior.” Zippy said, “Where did we put the cameras?”
“Zippy . . . you shouldn’t go spying on them.” Melody admonished.
“Says the woman who’s spying on them.” Zach said.
“We put all the cameras in the guest bedroom.” Krystal told her.
As Zippy go up to go get one, she heard Zach exclaim, “Omigosh! They kissed!”
Zippy turned back and was surprised to see Stitchy and Derek not just kissing, but completely making out, arms wrapped around each other, pulling each other close. Stitchy seemed to have gotten he hang of it now, because their lips moved against each other with easy, passionate kisses. Zippy felt her face go hot as she blushed, watching them. Her objective scientific mind wasn’t all that detached after all.
“She sure doesn’t seem to think she’s ugly anymore.” Melody observed.
“Romantic interaction, I need to document this.” She said standing and quickly darting over to the guest bedroom.
As she opened the door, however, she got one more surprise: There lying on the bed, were Lizzy and Jason, kissing and hugging and making out like there was no tomorrow. They lay sideways, pressed up against each other; one of Lizzy’s legs draped over Jason a he ran his fingers through her hair. They were so into each other; they didn’t even notice Zippy at first. When they did, they broke the kiss, but didn’t give much of a hint of embarrassment and didn’t let go of each other.
Zippy felt herself blush; this was where Lizzy had been all day. Zippy was no prude by any means, but the idea that her dispassionate gloomy room mate might have snuck off to play tonsil hockey with a guy was surprising enough to be a little embarrassing.
“Uh . . . sorry.” Zippy stammered lamely.
“Hi, Zippy.” Lizzy said, grinning mischievously.
With nothing to say, Zippy simply reached down and grabbed up the first camera she saw, sitting on the top of a box with the others. As she picked it up, Melody and Krystal stuck their heads around the corner, both instantly displaying sheepish grins.
“I should have warned you,” Melody chuckled, “They’ve been up here for hours.”
Lizzy and Jason ignored them and planted their lips on each other. Zippy hastily slipped out closing the door behind her. Her brain was doing summersaults; Lizzy, of all people. Well, get a grip, Zippy, Lizzy’s just as much a girl as you are, and you’ve spent lots of time holed up with guys sucking face.
All in all, this had been an exciting day: Her project had been a success. Hell, her project was apparently gettin’ some. Krystal was displaying more feminine traits, and Lizzy had proved that she wasn’t quite as cold as she always looked. Despite everything that had happened, this would have to go down as a positive day for all of them. Zippy smiled a little to herself, it wasn’t very scientific, but things had a way of working out for themselves.
Krystal giggled still a little red, “Well, I guess there’s romance in the air today.”
Krystal cringed as soon as she said it, because Zack was looking at her expectantly.
Woof! Woof! Hi, I’m Nadjia Farrell! Unfortunately, my sister and I aren’t in the next chapter either, but don’t let that put you off because Stitchy takes her first stroll away from the house, Krystal finds herself giving a fashion show, and Mandy gets into some serious trouble in the next chapter of Zippy Zipperdale: Moderately Mad Scientist “The Seventh Experiment”.
EurekaI’ve got it!
MODERATELY MAD
SCIENTIST:
The Sixth Experiment
By Hardcover
It could be said of the Bergeson Laboratory that it was, in fact, one of the most secure privately owned research centers in this part of the country. It was late in the early hours of the morning, darkness still gripping the night outside as its employees slept. The lab was empty at this hour, completely; the closest thing to occupation was a guard that came by past the door once an hour. The Lab had the highest tech security systems in the world on every entrance and exit, key and password coded doors and every little piece of mind giver that money could buy.
Late at night, the lab was silent and quiet, the only sound being the slight hum of the refrigeration units that housed the preserved human organs, in particular the impressive collection of brains, donated to science by the genius’ that originally possessed them after they had cast off their mortal coil. Here, the most remarkable brains of recent history were studied and analyzed, with the goal of one day understanding how to make people smarter, for anyone who’s ever walked around outside had seen the need for such an eventuality.
Hence, the tight security on the large laboratory that occupied the entire 98th floor of the massive BuildingThe designers had thought of every eventuality. Everything, that is, except for one: Since the lab was on such a high floor, it hadn’t occurred to them that someone might come in through the window. This was, at this time, exactly what someone was doing.
The three figures lay flat against the glass, held on by super compression suction cups that held them firmly to the side, even in the strong wind. Not one of them looked down. They were dressed head to toe in black photo camouflage gear that was rigged with tiny micro cameras along the material that took video and projected it along the opposite side of the suit. This did not render them invisible, but it did make it hard to spot them. The three burglars were small and thin, and if they could be spotted were distinctly female in shape. One of them was cutting open the window with a small laser.
Once the window was cut; she used one of the suction cups to lower the glass to the floor on the inside. Once done, they all slipped quietly into the lab. They quickly made haste across the laboratory floor, employing a dizzying series of means to break all the safeguards. Once the heat and pressure sensors were off, the video cameras looped, and the lasers deactivated, and every obstacle taken care of, the three thieves moved rapidly and purposefully towards the collection of brains.
One of them brought with them a small portable refrigeration unit, which she placed on the floor as the other one, the one who had cut the glass, began looking through the canisters that preserved the brains of the brightest. After a little bit, she found the one she wanted. Bringing it to her, she carefully began to remove it from its home.
One of the other thieves spoke, “Come on Zippy, let’s hurry this up.”
“Can’t rush this, Krystal.” Zippy replied, “This one is perfect, we can’t afford to damage it. She was our age when she died, had an IQ of over 210, and was child progeny from age five. Scientist, musician, artist, engineer, she did it all. This is exactly what we need.”
Opening up their refrigerator, Krystal removed another brain while Zippy quickly slipped the stolen one in. She then put the new brain into the stolen one’s original housing and placed it back where she had found it. After making sure that the new brain was properly refrigerated and preserved, they sprinted back to the window and made their escape, using a different laser to reattach the glass. They scaled back down the building and disappeared into the night.
It would be six months before the break in and theft was even discovered, and the authorities were stumped. Not only had the thieves left no trace of themselves, but the police were baffled at how they’d managed to get in make off with their score. Not a single trace of the burglars had been discovered, and how they’d gotten in would remain a mystery.
Likewise, the lab owners were very embarrassed that it took them six months to realize that a prized human brain had been replaced by one from a chimpanzee.
For the first time in a long time, Zippy Zipperdale was finally back home. Specifically, she was in her basement, carefully sewing stitches on her new project, but she was home with her family, if only for a few weeks. She moved her hands dexterously, carefully moving the needle in and out, making sure the stitches were tight and close together. It was meticulous work, but necessary.
They had been at Zippy’s house for two days, and her parents had joyfully welcomed both Lizzy and Krystal in the house for the break. Being as enthusiastic as always, they had let them all set up their experiment in the basement; not even batting an eye when all the scientific equipment started showing up. They even allowed Zippy to keep Jetson’s tank in the living room. Although, truth be told, they did start looking a little worried when cases labeled “live organs” began arriving. Still, they had been accepting, and let them work.
The basement was a wide, standard basement, with wooden steps leading down from a door in the south west corner. One the opposite side sat two small windows looking out into their back yard on either side of the wall that let in a bit of additional light. The basement was lit overhead by a simple bulb, but Zippy had set up her own lights for her work. The only thing originally in the basement before had been the washing machine and dryer, and a small sink next to them along the east wall.
Now, the basement was filled with machines lining the west wall, large and small, all hooked up with a dizzying array of cables. There was a wooden desk in front of the south wall that had two top of the line laptops on it, also hooked up to the machine, and a large steel frame in the center of the room under which sat the table that Zippy was working on. A few chairs were scattered around, and camcorders on tripods recorded their work.
Zippy glanced around at the others: Lizzy, dressed in a shot black sleeveless dress, was crouched behind one of the large machines they were using, carefully securing some cables. Krystal dressed in jean shorts and a tank top, was taking a break, sitting on one of the chairs, reading a magazine. Zippy smiled a little, she looked so damn feminine like that, and she was impressed with how far Krystal had come. She sat with her legs crossed, reading a hairstyle magazine. It was hard to believe it had only been a month, but Zippy now regarded Krystal as a friend, although she could still be a pain in the ass sometimes. It was hard to believe they’d been such bitter enemies when she’d been Cristobel.
And Zippy had to admit, she couldn’t have done this project without her. They had used Krystal’s tissue regenerator to do the internal parts of the project, but had run into trouble using it on the external portions. It was Krystal who had figured out that the reagent they were using had interfered with the tissue regenerator when fused with the external cells. And so, here was Zippy using old fashioned stitches. She’d found a special steel alloy that was very tough, and should make the stitches hard to tear.
There was the sound of the door opening, and Zippy looked up to see her mother, Melody Zipperdale, coming down the stairs with a basket full of laundry. Melody had aged very well, a fact that made Zippy a little grateful that she had fifty percent of her DNA. She had a round, pretty face, slightly long nose, and wide brown eyes, all of it circled by a wavy mane of brown hair that went to her shoulders. She was casually dressed in a t-shirt and jeans that still showed off her thin but curvy figure; a little bit too curvy for Zippy sometimes, and she lamented the fact that she had not inherited her mother’s bust line. Zippy chided herself again for her jealousy.
“Hi, guys.” Melody chirped as she came down.
“Hi, Mom.” Zippy replied, looking up before returning to her stitches.
“Hi, Melody.” Krystal and Lizzy said in unison.
Causal as ever, Melody had insisted that her daughter’s friends refer to her by her first name. Zippy suspected it was because “Mrs. Zipperdale” made her feel old.
She came down to the bottom of the stairs, holding the load of laundry under her arms. Grinning happily and obviously thrilled to have her daughter back with her.
Melody said, “I’m going to be making lunch soon, will you guys be up to eat? I know your busy, but you’ve gotta have food in your bodies.”
Zippy nodded, “Just give us an hour to finish up here.”
Melody moved towards the washing machine and the stopped when she got to the sink. She looked inside it, her mouth twisting a little in disgust.
“Uh . . . Zippy?” She began, staring at the contents of the sink, “What . . . what’s this in the sink?”
“That would be the old brain.” Zippy replied.
A few days later, everything was ready and they were all set to try. Sophisticated electronic equipment decorated the west wall of the basement, cables running from the back onto that large metal frame that sat in the center of the room. Sitting next to the equipment was a large metal tank from which tubes ran leading to injectors on all four struts of the frame. Small but powerful generators lined the north wall under the windows, connected to both the equipment and the frame by a series of thick snaking power cords. On the north side of the frame sat two long fold up tables on which sat three top of the line lap top computers. Cables from the lap tops ran to the equipment and to the frame.
In the center of the frame, sitting on a metal support, lay the table with their experiment under it, covered by a white sheet. Chain lifts ran from the front and back of the table to the top of the frame. All around the frame and behind the computer tables, camcorders on tripods prepared to record the experiment. They were as ready as they would ever be.
As Zippy, Lizzy and Krystal were going around there last preparation, dressed in lab coats just to be professional, the door opened and Zippy’s parents came down the steps, looking around the room excited. Melody dropped down the floor first, followed by her husband Jasper, who held a small camcorder of his own. The two looked like your typical proud parents.
Behind them, Zippy’s younger brother Zachery hopped down. He was one year younger then Zippy, and just as smart, however considerably lazier. He had brushed back sandy blonde hair and a round face decorated by small rectangular glasses. He was dressed in blue jeans and some kind of Japanese Animation T-shirt. Zach as they called him was an obsessive fan of that stuff, referring to himself as an otaku. Zippy thought that was an odd thing to admit to, since even anime itself tended to make fun of otaku.
“Hey, Zip.” Zach said as he came, and then waved enthusiastically at Krystal, “Hi, Krystal.”
Zippy smiled, Zach had all too obviously been completely taken with Krystal ever since he first saw her. He’d found every excuse he could to come down and hang out with her. Needless to say, Zippy hadn’t told him that Krystal used to be a guy. Krystal, for her part, had been blissfully unaware of Zach’s designs on her, having had no experience with it before.
Some more people were coming down the stairs.
“You’ve got some visitors, Zippy.” Her father said glancing up at the small group coming down to the basement, “a few people would like to witness your moment of glory.”
Zippy grinned, it was all the gang she’d used to hang with before going to Petri’s. The first one down was her emo neighbor Jason, dressed mostly in baggy black clothes with thick black hair that he’d streaked with light browns and blondes, and which hung down over half his face. He was casual and pretty much accepting of everything no matter what it was. Zippy had never seen him get mad.
The other boy was Todd, a local jock from her old school who was much smarter the usual stereo type led you to believe. He was the sort of athlete who looked like he’d never had a pimple, with dark blond wavy hair brushed perfectly back over his head and held with mousse, and long chiseled features over a well toned and muscular body. He was dressed all in trendy fashions as usual, that hadn’t changed. Like a lot of star athletes, Todd let it go to his head a bit, but not so much as to make him unbearable.
He was flanked as always by his girlfriend, Mirabelle. Mirabelle was a quiet and reserved girl with wavy brown hair and large glasses who Zippy had met through the science club, which was actually how she knew Todd. Mirabelle and Todd had been an odd couple, since it was an unwritten rule that star jocks date cheerleaders, but it wasn’t like Mirabelle was some homely nerd: She was strikingly beautiful and had keen fashion sense that complimented her well proportioned figure quite nicely. Although she was quiet, she wasn’t really shy, and dressed to show up her body, like right now, wearing a pink sleeveless half top and a white short jean skirt.
The last one down was Zippy’s across the street neighbor, Mandy. Mandy was a tiny, diminutive shy girl who dressed to conceal her figure as much as possible. Zippy was aware that Mandy was actually much curvier then she looked in the baggy shirt and long dress she was wearing. Mandy had dark brown hair that went down to her shoulders, and a round and pretty face decorated with huge brown eyes, sometimes resembling one of Zach’s anime girls.
Mandy lived right across the street, and as such, had been friends with Zippy and Zach since they were kids. Mandy was easily frightened and tended to be skittish, so Zippy and her brother had dragged her to endless horror films just to watch her freak out. Her reaction to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre had been hysterical.
In her hands she clutched a familiar plastic box. Mandy was an avid baseball fan and as such had developed an affinity for collecting baseball cards. That box was where she kept them, so she had probably wanted to share some of her recent acquisitions with Zippy. She waved politely as she came down, clutching the box.
“Good.” Zippy said, “You’re all just in time for the experiment. And the more witnesses the better. Can I get everyone to stand back a little, please?”
“Cool.” Jason said.
Everyone backed up, her parents looking at each other proudly, her father taping her like he was taping a sporting event. Of course, none of them had any idea what Zippy was about to do. Lizzy went around turning on the equipment, and then turning on the camcorders. When she was finished, she sat in front of one of the laptops, and began reading the screen. Krystal went and stood by the equipment.
Zippy looked into the camera and began to give her presentation, “Good evening, today, you are about to witness a historical experiment. Using up to date scientific methods, we are about to conduct an experiment in the creation of life.”
Everyone looked at each other uncertainly, including Jasper and Melody who weren’t sure what their daughter was driving at.
Zippy continued, “Specifically, the procedure you are about to witness, will attempt to reanimate a new human life form, one constructed from scratch from the best available human material that could be obtained. Our subject has been carefully and completely constructed, and if this procedure is a success, we will breathe new life into it, and create and brand new human being.”
Now there were surprised gasps and frightened looks. Jasper and Melody were exchanging alarmed looks, having never suspected what their daughter might be up to. Mirabelle moved close to Todd and slightly behind him, while Todd looked like he might want to hide behind her just the same.
Only Jason was enthusiastic, grinning from ear to ear, “Awesome! So you’re gonna make a Frankenstein?”
“Frankenstien was the name of the scientist, not the monster.” Lizzy reminded him.
Mandy fixed her eyes on the sheet covering the table, realizing for the first time that the lump underneath it did bear a resemblance to a human body. Her eyes grew wide and her lips trembled with fear.
“Uh . . . Zippy,” She asked timidly, her voice trembling as she pointed to the table, “I . . . um . . . is that . . .?”
Zippy looked back and nodded, ‘That is our constructed human, which, hopefully, we will bring to life in a few minutes. The theory is not a new one; all life as we know it is a chemical reaction anyways, so it stands to reason that if you were to find the right chemical combination, you could effect re-animation in deceased organism. Using a combination of newly developed re-agent, and careful electrical stimulation to ‘jump start’ the nervous system, I believe, hopefully, that we will achieve re-animation with this process.”
She then added, “Cross your fingers.”
Jasper asked, his voice trembling a little, “Zippy? Are you sure this is safe?”
“Nope.” Zippy admitted.
Zippy donned a pair of thick rubber gloves and pair of dark goggles. Lizzy handed out duplicate goggles to every one else. Mandy was so scared she had trouble putting them on correctly. One everyone had their goggles on, Lizzy returned to the table and Krystal switched on the machine. I low hum filled the room as the generators kicked in and the devices lit up, sending flickering lights across the basement walls.
Looking up from the computer screen, Lizzy said, “Were all set, all vitals at flat line.”
“Throw open the switches on the sonic oscillator.” Zippy said, “And step up the reactor power input three more points.”
Krystal adjusted several of the machines, the hum grew louder and the lights flashed more. Mandy bit down on her fists, rickety with fear. All the others stared with shock as the machines grew louder and louder. Zippy’s parents were still glancing at each other nervously, but her father kept his camera pointed at the action none the less. Only Jason watched with interest and enthusiasm, as usual.
Moving to the side of the table, Zippy gripped the chains with both hands. With long pulls she yanked the chains, rotating eh whiles. With a low creaking sound, the table lifted off the small lets and rose towards the top of the massive frame. Zippy quickly backed up once it was in place and waiting until the machines finished starting up.
Throwing out a finger, she cried, “Igor! Throw the switch!”
“Bite me!” Krystal cried and threw the switch.
There was a loud creaking noise and then a crackle of electricity. The frame flashed with blue sparks and arcs of electricity that flashed all over the basement like a strobe light. Suddenly, the body began to jerk and pulse as volts of electricity coursed through it, causing its muscles to spasm as its nerves were temporarily energized. The loud cracks of the shocks filled the basement, drowning out all other noise as the body jerked and twisted with arcs of lightening crackling all around it.
There was a loud thump as Mandy passed out cold on the floor.
Zippy waited until she thought it had had enough, and then she gestured for Krystal to stop. The arching lightening ceased and the crackling sputtered down and stopped as soon as Krystal threw the switch. Reaching over to the chain again, her hands protected by the metal gloves, Zippy lowered the platform about half way, right in front of the large injectors. Her hair stood on end a little from all the electricity in the air, held in place by the unique construction of the frame, effectively creating an electrically charged bubble within the struts.
Stepping back, Zippy ran to a switch on the side, “Now! Inject the re-agent!”
Krystal grabbed the next switch and pulled it. There was loud groan from tank and the volumes of glowing green liquid flowed through the tubes into the injectors on the struts. Zippy grabbed the switch on her side and threw it as soon at the liquid reached all of them. The injectors lurched forward, piercing the covering and the flesh and burying themselves deep within the assembled body beneath. There was soft chugging sound as the injectors began to pump the whole body full of the re-agent.
With a gurgling noise, the entire tank was emptied into the body. Zippy then lowered it to the stand on the bottom, and again electricity arced, now streaming from the top of the frame into the concealed body.
Zippy was giddy with excitement, she had never been so enthusiastic about a project before.
“Live! Live! Live!” She cried excitedly at the experiment.
Finally, the electricity stopped and the machines shut down. Zippy clutched her hands together and waited.
Mandy staggered back to her feet, woozily, and the eyed the frame again with fear.
“Still flat line, no vitals.” Lizzy informed them.
Zippy stared at the platform, and at the sheeted body on top of it. She bit down on her lip, waiting for any sign of life, and little movement. She looked up and down with an increasing deflation, it wasn’t moving. A sinking feeling began to gnaw at the pit of her stomach. She dropped her hands, starting to feel hopeless; there was no movement at all from the body.
“Still flat line.” Lizzy said.
Zippy turned away, moving back to the table. She felt completely deflated and despondent; she had been so sure this would work. The sting of failure stabbed at her heart as she leaned on the table, a depressed, dismal look on her face. She thought she was going to cry any minute now as disappointment flooded every inch of her body.
Zippy’s parents exchanged a relieved chuckle, looking at each other in respite.
She felt Krystal’s hand on her shoulder; she looked up to see a rare expression of sympathy on the girl’s face.
“Don’t worry, Zippy.” Krystal said soothingly, “We’ll make this work.”
Zippy patted Krystal’s hand, her eyes welling up with the beginnings of tears; she hadn’t felt this disappointed about the failure of any project in a long time. The grief was almost like loosing a friend; she had felt so completely positive that they could do this experiment. Now, not only would they not be making history, but they were right back where they started from, and had just wasted a lot of time.
With a considerate sound to her voice, Melody spoke up, “Zippy, honey? Maybe . . . Maybe you should try something . . . something a little less . . . ambitious . . .?”
She was cut off by Lizzy’s excited cry, “I’ve got neural activity!”
Zippy ran to her and looked over her shoulder, quickly joined by Krystal, “Where? How much?”
Zippy stared at the screen, the neural activity was spiking all over the place, the levels rising rapidly. Krystal quickly looked at the other laptop and the bio readouts scrolling across the screen. The neural activity quickly increased, surging close to conscious levels.
“I’ve got a heart beat!” Krystal cried ecstatically, “I’ve got blood pressure increasing! Holy @#%$! The lungs are inflating, its breathing!”
Mandy squealed in horror, hiding behind the others as Zippy looked back at the motionless body under the sheet. Suddenly, the sheet shifted as something moved underneath it.
“It’s alive!” Zippy whispered.
Her heart pumping with excitement, Zippy ran to the table, her hair standing up again because of the electrically charged atmosphere. She grabbed the sheet and yanked it off the table, revealing the body beneath.
It was wrapped, head to toe in gauze bandages, looking like what an Egyptian mummy might have looked like right before it went into the sarcophagus. Six wide leather straps held the body down on the table, which Zippy quickly began to undo. When she was done, she leaned over, looking at the wrapped up body as the chest visibly rose and fell. And then, one arm started to rise, moving upward a little further and further.
Mandy fainted again, collapsing to the floor.
Zippy screamed elatedly, “Yes! Yes! It’s alive! It’s alive! Oh my god! I’ve always wanted to say that!”
Coming over quickly and joining Zippy, Lizzy and Krystal helped the bandaged creation sit up and then stand while every other still conscious person in the room stared in astonishment. The creature was taller then everyone else in the basement, easily past the six foot tall mark, and displayed a curvy feminine body underneath the tightly wrapped bandages.
“Man, your own Boris Karloff, wicked.” Jason said.
“Uh, that looks like that’s a woman there.” Mirabelle said.
“Dude, you are so right.” Jason cocked his head, “Who played the bride again?”
At the moment, nobody really cared that it was Elsa Lanchester. They stared in utter stupification as the newly created woman shuffled around, getting its footing. Mandy woke up again and cringed as she saw the tall bandaged wrapped figure in front of her. Immediately, Zippy unwrapped the bandages on the head, pulling them off and freeing the creature’s face.
Long strait black hair spilled down the monster’s head over her shoulders. The girl’s face was, all things considered, very beautiful, in its hauntingly absurd way. She had a round, robust face with wide eyes and a small, perfectly proportioned nose over full, pouting lips. Her hair was a silky velvet color that shined a little in the dull lights of the basement. Zippy had been forced to comprise with her eyes, not being able to find a perfect pair, or at least two perfect ones the same color, her creation had a blue eye on the left and a green eye on the right. A snaky line of small stitches ran up diagonally through the middle of her face, stating at the right side of her chin and ending over her left eye. Hidden mostly by her hair, a line so thick stitches marked where the top of her head had been sewn together. On her neck was another circle of stitches where here whole head had been attached, just bellow the two round bolts on either side where the electricity had been conducted.
The creation looked rapidly and curiously from place to place, and person to person as Zippy unwrapped the bandages around her stomach, checking the line of stitches there and then unwrapped her hands, checking the attachments on the wrist. Again, Zippy had been stuck compromising with the hands: the creation’s right hand was from a Korean woman, while her left hand was from a black woman.
Zippy looked up into her creations face as she continued to look around her, taking everything in curiously.
Zippy asked her, “Can you speak? Come on, I know you can; I put your tongue in there myself.”
The creature opened its mouth and made a noise, “Whhaglllhrahhh.”
Licking her lips, she tried to speak again, this time her voice came out in a surprisingly high, light, girlish voice.
“Where . . . am . . . I?” The creation asked.
“You’re in my basement, in a laboratory we set up.” Zippy said, fidgeting her hands with excitement.
The answer seemed to satisfy the creation; she turned her head back to its previous rapid movements, looking at the other people in quick glances. She stopped when she saw Jasper holding the camera, and attempted a smile and a bit of a pose playfully. Suddenly, she furrowed her brow in thought.
The creation turned back to Zippy, “Who . . . am I?”
“We haven’t given you a name yet.” Zippy told her, moving closer, thrilled at the inquisitiveness the creation showed right off the back.
Jason spoke up, “You should just call her ‘Stitchy’. She’s got enough of ‘em.”
“I . . . Stitchy.” The creation repeated, smiling, apparently liking the name.
Looking around the basement some more, Stitchy looked back to Jasper and his camera. She grinned at it again a waved, causing Jasper to back up a little bit. She then tuned back to look down at Zippy.
“Who . . . are you?” Stitchy asked her.
“I’m Zippy. I created you with Lizzy and Krystal here.” She said putting on hand on Stitchy’s bandaged wrapped arm, “I gave you life.”
Furrowing her brown once more, Stitchy rubbed her chin thoughtfully, “Gave Stitchy life? Then you . . . ?”
All at once, Stitchy smiled widely and looked back to Zippy.
“Mommy!” She cried and grabbed Zippy in a tight bear hug, lifting her off the floor.
Zippy felt pain rush through her and Stitchy’s strong arms felt like they were going to crush her. She was gripped in a vice like squeeze, almost like getting compressed by a boa constrictor. She cried out and struggled trying to break Stitchy’s grasp.
“Ah! Stitchy!” She screamed in alarm, “Too tight! Too tight! You’re squishing me!”
Instantly, Stitchy let go, dropping Zippy back to the ground, clapping both hands on her mouth, “I sorry.”
Zippy put her hands on her knees and drew in deep breaths in large gasps, “You’re . . . a little stronger then we had anticipated.”
After a bit of silence, Melody spoke up nervously, “Uh . . . who wants burritos for lunch?”
Stitchy raised her hand.
While the others went upstairs, Zippy, Lizzy and Krystal remained to take care of a few things on Stitchy, unwrapping her bandages all the way and giving her a quick physical exam. Stitchy had been cheerfully compliant, inquisitively asking what each procedure was about. She also quickly took to referring to Zippy as ‘Mom’. Everything seemed to fine, and Stitchy’s mental capacities seemed quite adequate, as she understood most of the machinery in the room, and quickly impressed her creators with her ability to solve complex math problems in her head. Zippy was at a loss to explain her strange speech patterns, referring to herself in the third person constantly. When done, Zippy gave her one of her old dresses to wear, and they brought Stitchy upstairs.
The dress was a long, baggy outfit on Zippy, but on Stitchy it amounted to a mini dress, just barely covering her up. As she walked, Stitchy showed ample amounts of her long stitch covered legs and arms. As the four of them came up the stairs and crossed over to the large dining room, they could hear everyone talking in low whispers. It all stopped the minute they entered the room, so it was no mystery what they were talking about.
Stitchy looked around herself curiously, taking in every bit of the house as she saw it for the first time.
“Mom lives in a big house.” She chirped happily.
They approached the table and took their seats. Jasper and Melody were seated at the front of the table, Todd and Mirabelle across from them, and Mandy on the other end. Zippy, Lizzy and Stitchy took seats to Melody’s right, while Krystal took a seat on the other side next to Mirabelle. Jason sat between Lizzy and Mandy. Instantly, Zach slipped into a chair next to Krystal, so completely and obviously taken with her. It seemed to Zippy that she’d finally started to notice as she got a little uncomfortable.
As Stitchy sat down at the table, everyone stared at her nervously; except for Mandy who eyed Stitchy with undisguised fear. Seemingly blissfully unaware of the commotion she was causing, Stitchy simply looked around the room as curiously as ever.
Tentatively Melody said, “Uh, Zippy, I didn’t make a burrito for your . . . project.”
“That’s okay.” Zippy assured her, “I don’t want her to eat solid food until I know how well her digestive tract works.”
Zippy produced a few bottles of baby food and spooned it out onto Stitchy’s plate. Stitchy regarded it and the burritos on everyone else’s plate and then looked down at her own in disappointment. Zippy was elated when Stitchy picked up her spoon and began to use it without being shown how and gushed compliments at her creation who blushed and giggled.
Jason piped up, breaking the ice a bit, “So, do you get to do stuff like this at your school all the time?”
Zippy brightened, “Not like this, this is a completely unique project. But we’ve done some pretty amazing stuff with the resources we’ve got.”
“Like what?” Mirabelle asked timidly.
Lizzy spoke up with her usual flat tone, “We perfected and performed the world’s most advanced gender reassignment surgery, for one thing.”
Zippy tried to kick her under the table, but missed.
There was an uncomfortable pause, and then Todd said, “Uh, and some guy actually volunteered for this?”
“Actually,” Krystal spoke up, “They knocked me out and did it to me when I was unconscious.”
There was a shocked silence as everyone turned to stared at Krystal, who simply shrugged and smiled.
“I’m good with it.” She said casually.
“They did a good job on you.” Zach said enthusiastically, not discouraged one bit by the revelation, “I think you’re beautiful.”
“Uh . . . thanks.” Krystal stammered, suddenly blushing.
Mandy looked from Krystal to Zippy in confusion and horror, “Who are you and what have you done to Zippy Zipperdale?”
There was a pause, and then suddenly everyone just had burst out laughing at the comment. Everyone except Mandy who looked down at her plate, her face still frightened and scared. The rest of them started to loosen up a little bit and eat, trying to get used to the bizarre turn of events.
Melody felt like she was in a dream. She’d known her daughter was up to something peculiar. Hell, how could it not be with that weird school she was in? It had been like a nightmare from the start, finding out that Zippy was in some kind of mad scientist school, and that legally there was nothing they could do about. Even more when she’d realized that Zippy had embraced the school whole heartedly, even bringing her experiments home, along with the weird talking squid that now lived temporarily in their living room.
She sighed and zipped her juice, whishing it was bourbon. She suddenly became aware that her daughter’s Frakengirl was staring at her with those creepy mismatched eyes.
“Who are you?” Stitchy asked her.
Melody set down her glass and took a deep breath. Be nice to it, she told herself, your daughter worked very hard to create that thing and her grades are riding on it. The least you can do is be civil to it.
She forced a smile, and said warmly, “I’m Melody, I’m Zippy’s mother.”
Stitchy touched her chin, looking back to Zippy in thought, “Mommy’s mommy? Then you’re . . . ?”
Stitchy brightened up and turned back to Melody with a wide grin.
“Grandma!” Stitchy said happily.
Melody almost chocked on her drink and got angry right away, fuming at the choice of words.
“Hey!” She shouted, “I’m too young to be a grandma! I was at for Christ sakes!”
Stitchy swallowed, holding up her hands, “I . . . I sorry.”
Turning away, she whispered to Zippy, “Mommy’s mommy real sensitive about her age.”
Zippy nodded in agreement.
Zippy climbed steps leading out of the basement, having gone through some more of the test data on Stitchy. Most of the visitors had left except for Jason who was talking to Lizzy about something they both had in common.
The rest of lunch went off without a hitch with most everyone starting to relax and exhibit some curiosity about Stitchy. Everyone, that was, except for Mandy, who continued to regard Stitchy with trepidation. Made worse when she went into the living room and encountered Jetson, waving his tentacles and greeting her enthusiastically, sending the timid girl running out of the house screaming.
When Stitchy had asked if all these people live in the house, Zippy had told her no, that they were neighbors and pointed out that Mandy lived right across the street. The answer seemed to satisfy the inquisitive Frankengirl. She took her back down to the basement got her undressed and performed a few more tests on her. After wards, she dressed her again and sent her upstairs while Zippy worked on a few more notes before realizing she hadn’t run all the tests she need and heading back ups stairs with the others, minus Lizzy, who had seemed to disappear without telling anyone. Also she realized she had to change her shirt, as she’d gotten a lot of lubricant from the frame on it.
When she entered her bedroom she was in for a bit of a shock: Stitchy was there, leaning all the way over Zippy’s desk looking out the open window, which faced the front of the house, looking down on the front law from the second floor. In the small dress she was wearing, the skirt had rode up and exposed her panties to whoever happened to walk into the room, which happened to be Zippy.
“Woah . . . uh.” Zippy started, turning red for a second.
“Handsome boy.” Stitchy remarked without taking her eyes off whoever she was watching.
Zippy walked over and pulled her skirt down, grinning sheepishly, “Sure, sure, very handsome boy. Now keep your dress down, ya’ ho.”
Zippy kicked herself as soon as she said that, realizing that Stitchy might not realize that she was kidding. But Stitchy paid the comment no mind, continuing to stare out the window with both her hands under her chin.
“Handsome boy.” She repeated dreamily.
“Who are you looking at anyways?” Zippy wondered leaning over the desk and looking out the window as well.
She saw a tall boy from the neighborhood talking to a local girl. He was dressed all in denim, wearing blue jeans and a jean jacket that was open to reveal a t-shirt with some band on the front that Zippy wasn’t familiar with. He had wavy brown hair brushed back and moussed in place, and deep blue eyes over a very well proportioned face. All of which was set on an athletic body that was obvious even under the jacket. Of course, Zippy knew he had a jock’s body anyways; she’d grown up with him. Yes, he was very handsome, although he was the poster boy for the dumb jock cliché.
Zippy smiled, “That’s Derek Simpleton, he lives two houses over. Good taste, actually.”
She straitened up and turned her back on Stitchy, pulling her stained shirt off and tossing it in her hamper. She opened her closet and selected a simple grey half top that left her midriff a little bare and slipped it on comfortably.
As she did so, she said, “Listen, Stitchy, I’ve got some more tests I’d like to run on you. Nothing too scary, just some extra information I need. Is that all right with you?”
She turned around and was stunned to find the room empty, Stitchy was gone, no where to be seen. The door to the room was right next to the closet; no way could she have left that way. Zippy looked back and forth befuddled, until she looked out the window and yelped in horror: While her back was turned, Stitchy had simply unhitched the screen and crawled out the window, lithely crawling down the ivy trellis next to the window and dropping to the grass, not a surprising feet considering that her legs came from a Cirque Du Solei gymnast and dancer. Zippy could see her on the front lawn, gleefully heading towards Derek.
With a squeal of alarm, Zippy ran out of her bedroom and out the front door of the house chasing after her.
Derek had his back to Stitchy as she approached, talking amiably with the other girl, Peggy. Peggy noticed Stitchy first as she came up behind him, and gasped in fear and surprise. Derek, seeing her expression, and not being quite that slow on the uptake, turned around to see what she was looking at. His eyes grew wide as the giant sized girl, covered in stitches, came up to him with big ear to ear grin on her face.
“Hi. I Stitchy.” Stitchy chirped pleasantly.
“Uh, hi.” Derek said cautiously, looking up at the huge girl,” I’m . . . uh . . . I’m Derek.”
“Handsome boy, Derek.” Stitchy said stepping closer to him, looking down at the boy from her higher vantage point.
“Uh, thanks.” Derek replied timidly.
“I kiss you.” Stitchy announced.
She gripped his shoulders with her large hands and lifted him off the ground, bringing him up to her face. Eagerly, she opened her mouth and then planted a kiss on his face with her lips wide open, looking not so much like she was kissing him and more like she was trying to swallow his whole head. Derek shivered in her grasp, but couldn’t get her to let go.
Zippy ran up behind her, realizing she was already too late. She grabbed Stitchy’s arm and the frankengirl dropped Derek to the ground, who promptly lost his footing and fell back on his ass, staring up at odd girl who had just kissed him. Peggy stood behind him, clapping her hands over her mouth to suppress her laughter, her previous fear now replaced entirely by amusement.
Zippy pulled Stitchy away and back towards the house, hastily apologizing, “Sorry about that, won’t happen again.”
As she was pulled away, Stitchy gleefully waved to Derek, “Bye, Handsome Boy Derek. Call Stitchy.”
“Come on, lover girl; let’s get you back to the house.” Zippy said sternly as she pulled her giant creation along.
Peggy couldn’t stop herself anymore, and burst out in uncontrollable giggles. That girl hadn’t been dangerous at all, just affectionate and fun. It was hilarious the way she’d lifted him up and smooched him like that.
Derek stared after them, a slack jawed look on his face.
“Wow.” He muttered.
Back down in the basement, Stitchy sat naked on the table while Zippy and Krystal ran a few more tests on her, poking and prodding her as necessary. She sat there cooperatively, if slightly annoyed by the constant jabbing. Zippy had wanted to get Lizzy’s help as well, but she couldn’t seem to find her. Even so, the tests only took a few minutes to complete and soon Stitchy got dressed again and Krystal and Zippy went back upstairs to collate the data, telling Stitchy to stay put.
Wandering around the room, Stitchy gazed with interest at the large contraption that she was told had given her life. If Zippy was her mother, perhaps this rather ugly conception of struts and machines might be her father, in a way. She ran her large hand over the strut, looking it over with her keen vision. Something foggy rose in her brain, she recognized a lot of this stuff, she knew what it was called, but she couldn’t remember form where.
She looked around until she found the laptops on the table. Looking them over, she realized she knew how to operate them. She smiled, about to sit down and bring up the internet, when she spied something in the corner, lying on the floor. She went over and crouched down over it, looking it over.
It was a box, about the size of shoe box, but made of a thicker material. It had fallen open, and small cards lay scattered on the floor. Stitchy picked one up, and saw a picture of some good looking man in a uniform with a number on the front swinging a large wooden club. She furrowed her brow as the information came back to her: A baseball player; this was a baseball player and these were baseball cards. And one hunky baseball player at that, Stitchy licked her lips playfully as she gathered up the cards and put them back in the box.
It looked familiar; she’d seen this box before. She looked at the lid and saw the inscription, “Mandy’s baseball cards.” That’s right; Mandy had this box when Stitchy had first come alive. She slipped all the cards into the box and thought about it for a second. Mommy had said that Mandy lived in the house right across the street.
Stitchy smiled, she would just have to return them to her.
Leaving the basement, Stitchy carried the box out the front door and walked to the edge of the street. Remembering foggily what this was, and that she should look out for cars, she looked both ways before crossing up to the large well landscaped house where Mandy lived. Somebody had watered the front garden as it was damp and puddles of water were pooled up here and there. The garden was set up in various levels separated by red brick in curved patterns, filled with a spectacular array of colored flora. Stitchy stopped to gaze at them before heading up to the door.
For a split second, she was confused as to what she was supposed to do now. Then it came back to her and she jutted one large finger out and pressed the door bell, hearing a few bars of something play when she did. She giggled; it was somehow a little amusing.
She heard the muffled sound of footsteps approaching the door and then the sound of locks being undone. The door swung open, and Stitchy smiled as she saw Mandy in the doorway. Mandy’s eyes grew wide as she saw her.
“Hi, Mandy . . .” Stitchy began.
But Mandy only screamed in terror and slammed the door in Stitchy’s confused face with a loud bang. Stitchy flinched in surprise; this wasn’t what she had expected. From behind the door, Stitchy could hear Mandy’s panicked, shrill voice screaming.
“Go away!” Mandy shrieked, “Leave me alone, you horrible ugly monster!”
Stitchy took a few steps back, perplexed by Mandy’s reaction. After all, she had simply come to return her baseball cards. She thought about ringing the doorbell again, but then thought better of it. She felt hurt, and sad by the way Mandy had reacted, and that didn’t feel good. She had only tried to be friendly.
Stitchy bent down and left the box on the porch, and with a depressed sigh, turned her back on the door, starting to walk back to Mommy’s house. She couldn’t understand why Mandy would be afraid of her; she certainly wasn’t going to hurt anyone. A stabbing feeling of loss gnawed at her belly, she had wanted her and Mandy to be friends. She couldn’t fathom why she had reacted like that.
And then Stitchy caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the puddles.
Zippy climbed out of the basement, frustrated and annoyed. She’d told Stitchy to stay put, but obviously she hadn’t. In a way, that was a good thing; her creation was demonstrating more independent thought then she’d anticipated. But for practical reasons, it was irritating. She couldn’t just have her creation wandering off whenever she felt like it. She had her grades riding on this after all.
She wandered around the house, looking for Stitchy. The house was large, but there wasn’t that many places the giant girl could be hiding. Getting worried, she went back and forth checking the rooms. For that matter, where the hell was Lizzy? Zippy hadn’t seen her in hours, where had she wandered off too? She started to fret, hoping Stitchy hadn’t gotten herself hurt. As she walked through the living room, Zippy finally spotted her across the street by Mandy’s house, crouched down and looking at something in the garden.
Zippy groaned with exasperation, she’d not only left the basement but she’d left the house. She would have to be clearer in telling her that she wasn’t to go wandering off by herself. She probably should say something similar to Lizzy, where in the world had her roommate gone? But no, Lizzy could take care of herself; Stitchy was the primary concern. Christ, what if something happened to her? She walked out the front door purposefully and crossed the street to where the large girl still crouched, looking into a puddle of water.
“Damn it, Stitchy!” Zippy said sternly, “You can’t go wandering off like that . . .”
She stopped dead as Stitchy looked up at her, and Zippy saw tears streaming down her face. Her first reaction was scientific: She’s crying! Even the tear ducts work! But then she saw that her creation was genuinely upset about something, even miserable. Stitchy sniffed, her body shaking as she sobbed, more tears running from her mismatched eyes down her cheeks. She looked up at Zippy with a heartrending sadness.
Zippy’s annoyance and anger quickly washed away replaced by concern.
Stitchy held her hands to her face, “Scary?”
Zippy opened her mouth, but only a gasp came out. She knelt down next to Stitchy, putting a hand on her shoulder, troubled how. What in the world had happened to her?
“Who said that?” Zippy asked her soothingly, “Who said you were scary?”
“Mandy.” Stitchy blubbered, “She scream and say Stitchy horrible ugly monster.”
“Mandy?” Zippy asked.
“Stitchy come to return Mandy’s box. Mandy’s baseball cards.” Stitchy wailed, “But Mandy scream and slam door. She call Stitchy horrible ugly monster. And look at Stitchy’s face, it true. Stitchy horrible and ugly.”
As Stitchy dissolved back into sobs, Zippy gritted her teeth, “Mandy’s an idiot. She scared of everything. She’s even scared of sock puppets.”
A small giggle appeared from Stitchy, “Really?”
“Really.”
Looking back at her reflection, Stitchy’s brief smile faded, “Stitchy ugly.”
Zippy put her arm around her and lifted her up, bringing her back to the house with her, “No, that’s not true, Stitchy. You’re very beautiful.”
“You have to say that!” Stitchy whined, “You Stitchy’s Mommy!”
Yeah, Zippy thought, that was probably true. She took Stitchy up to the house and inside where she found Krystal talking to Zach, who was looking at her with reverential eyes as usual. They both looked up and stood when they saw Stitchy crying.
Melody entered and did the same thing. She hesitated, as she was still very nervous around the huge frankengirl. Especially since her daughter had made her stronger then a normal human being. But as she stared at it, she could see how distraught Stitchy was. The fear began to ebb away, Stitchy certainly did not look like any sort of monster, and she simply looked like a sad and hurt young girl. Taking a deep breath, Melody went over to them.
As Zippy led Stitchy back to her bedroom and sat her on the bed, still sobbing. Melody came over and knelt down, putting a hand on her stitched up shoulder, slipping easily into her soothing tone of voice she used with her kids.
“Honey, what happened?” Melody asked, feeling a little strange calling her that.
“Stitchy just got her first taste of bigotry.” Zippy answered darkly, before explaining what had happened to everyone.
Listening to what Stitchy had gone through just trying to be nice, Melody felt a pang of guilt; she hadn’t treated the weird assembled girl that much differently. Of course, her creation had been a complete and total shock. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of her reaction, even though it was a perfectly normal reaction to finding your child doing Frankenstein experiments in your basement. Still, Stitchy didn’t look like she was going to be tossing any little girls into lakes.
Hearing the commotion, Jasper entered the room and quickly understood the situation. Very quickly, everyone was crowding around Stitchy, attempting to consol her.
“It true.” Stitchy moaned, “Stitchy scary and ugly.”
“No, that’s not true,” Zack told her, half because he was trying to score points with Krystal, “You’re concentrating on the stitches, the rest of you is very pretty. Trust me, I’m a guy, I know these things.”
Stitchy managed a tearful giggle.
Suddenly, Zippy realized one person was missing, “Where’s Lizzy?
Krystal shrugged, “Dunno. I haven’t seen her.”
After a while, they managed to cheer Stitchy up a bit, Zippy turned and left the room, going out the front door to give her best friend, no, make that her former best friend a piece of her mind.
After Zippy left, Melody went to the kitchen to get Stitchy something to drink. As she went through the living room, the doorbell rang. Frowning, Melody walked over to it and was surprised to find the Simpleton boy, Derek, standing out on the porch. He looked nervous and shuffled his feet timidly.
“Derek? What can I do for you?” Melody asked.
He blushed a little bit and didn’t answer right away. When he finally did, he stuttered a little with anxiety.
“Um, hello, Mrs. Zipperdale . . . I . . . uh . . .” He stammered.
“Yes?” Melody asked, somewhat put off by his embarrassed manner.
“Um . . .” He asked, and then smiled a little, “Is Stitchy here?”
Sometime after the monster had left, Mandy’s father had come home. Mandy had remained her room, trembling, and hadn’t told him what happened yet. She was still up there, agitated and scared, expecting that huge horrible monster girl to come bursting through the door to wrap her hands around her neck any second.
Why? Why would Zippy have made something like that? She shuddered, thinking of the horrible thing, and what it might have wanted to do to her. She thought of its huge size, it horrid criss cross of stitches, and those weird different colored eyes. In her mind, the creature had looked positively evil. She shivered again, pulling her legs up to her chin. Was she going to die? Would that thing come in from across the street at night and kill her in her sleep. Fear gnawed at the pit of her stomach.
So much so that she jumped and yelped when she heard a nock on her bedroom door.
Her father’s voice came from the other side, “Mandy, honey, you have a visitor.”
The door opened, and Mandy was surprised as Zippy walked in the room. Ignoring the hard look on her face, Mandy ran to her, her eyes wide.
“Zippy, you’ve got to destroy it.” She grabbed her friend by the shoulders, “It was here, it was trying to get me. You’ve got to kill it before it’s too late.”
“Mandy, what are you . . .?” Her father said, perplexed.
And then, suddenly, Mandy was reeling back across the room from a quick powerful blow to the side of her face. Pain radiated out from her cheek and her teeth clacked together hurtfully. She staggered back, dazed from the impact, and fell to the floor, jarring herself even more. She looked up bewildered to see Zippy standing over her with balled fists and a look of rage on her face.
Zippy had slapped her.
“Zippy! What the hell!” Mandy’s father cried and started forward.
Zippy shoved a familiar box angrily into Mandy’s hands, looking at her hard, “Stitchy was just trying to return these to you. You left them at my house.”
Mandy looked at the box in surprise, “My baseball cards.”
She had forgotten all about them.
“She was just trying to be nice,” Zippy hissed through clenched teeth, “And what do you do? You called her a ‘horrible ugly monster’.”
“Mandy!” Her father said aghast, “You said that to someone? I taught you better then that!”
“Dad, you haven’t seen her. She’s . . .” Mandy began.
“That’s enough, Mandy!” Her father interrupted, “I’ve tried to teach you not to judge people just by the way they look.”
“But . . .” Mandy tried again.
“I found her crying looking at her reflection.” Zippy shouted at her, “You really hurt her, Mandy. She’s just getting to know herself, and you cut her down. She was completely in tears. Now she thinks she’s ugly.”
Zippy angrily shoved Mandy down again, “Stay away from her.”
And with that, Zippy turned and stormed out the door. Mandy’s father stared down at her, a severe expression of disappointment on his face. He shook his head and turned his back on her, walking out the door and closing it behind him.
As he left, she heard him say, “I’m sorry about her.”
Mandy gritted her teeth: That was her Dad, always believing everyone else before he’d believe her. Always so sure that she had to be in the wrong, always so sure that she didn’t know what she was doing, or that the other person simply had to be right. It was an irritating trait, but in this situation, Mandy was starting to feel that maybe he was right.
Looking down at the box in her hands, Mandy felt the fear dissipate, only to be replaced by an even worse feeling: Guilt. She thought about before, and began to realize some things that she hadn’t noticed. Jesus, when she’d opened the door, the creature had been smiling. There had been nothing threatening about its . . . about her manner at all. Zippy was right, she had only been trying to be nice.
She clutched the box, shivering in shame: Her father was right too, she had let her fear cloud her reason, and she’d treated Stitchy badly just because of the way she looked. It was a prejudice, she realized, she’d been acting no better then some racist asshole scared of the black family on the corner. Tears moistened her cheeks, she felt horrible, worse then she had when she’d been afraid.
She clutched the box to her chest and whispered “I’m sorry” to no one in particular.
Still fuming but calming down a little, Zippy crossed the street and went back to her house, entering the front door and heading for her room to see how Stitchy was doing. She was still so mad at how Mandy had treated Stitchy, after she’d worked so hard to create her. She wondered, briefly, if this was how her mother felt when she got over protective of her. A smile crossed her face; that wasn’t really the same thing. But, as she’d created Stitchy with her own two hands, she did feel somewhat protective of her. And truth be told, it had made her heart ache a little bit to see her crying like that.
Zippy climbed the stairs, thinking to herself. It was Mandy’s prejudice that irked her the most; the way she’d been so convinced that Stitchy was something evil just because she was different. Stitchy had been friendly and nice sine she first came to life, not a hint of malice in her, and yet Mandy had seen her as Jack The Ripper. Zippy bit her lip; she didn’t think she’d be friends with Mandy anymore after this.
She stopped as she got to the door of her room, surprised to find her mom, her brother and Krystal outside the half closed door, peering in like they were spying on someone. They were hunched over, looking for all the world like characters on a sit com, watching with rapt attention.
“What are you guys doing?” Zippy asked.
“Shhhhh.” He mother put a finger to her lips.
Zack looked up, grinning, and whispered, “Look, Stitchy has friend.”
Curious, Zippy crept over and peered in the doorway to see what they were staring at. To her surprise, she saw Stitchy sitting on the bed next to Derek Simpleton, taking happily. Looking over their body language and facial expression, Zippy realized they were flirting with each other, and Stitchy seemed to have fallen into it naturally. Zippy’s scientific mind clicked on, intrigued by this new grasp of social interaction on her creation’s part.
“She’s interacting socially,” Zippy breathed, “And with a member of the opposite sex, this is fascinating.”
“She’s flirting.” Melody grinned.
“And she’s good at it.” Zack observed.
“I have to document this developing behavior.” Zippy said, “Where did we put the cameras?”
“Zippy . . . you shouldn’t go spying on them.” Melody admonished.
“Says the woman who’s spying on them.” Zach said.
“We put all the cameras in the guest bedroom.” Krystal told her.
As Zippy go up to go get one, she heard Zach exclaim, “Omigosh! They kissed!”
Zippy turned back and was surprised to see Stitchy and Derek not just kissing, but completely making out, arms wrapped around each other, pulling each other close. Stitchy seemed to have gotten he hang of it now, because their lips moved against each other with easy, passionate kisses. Zippy felt her face go hot as she blushed, watching them. Her objective scientific mind wasn’t all that detached after all.
“She sure doesn’t seem to think she’s ugly anymore.” Melody observed.
“Romantic interaction, I need to document this.” She said standing and quickly darting over to the guest bedroom.
As she opened the door, however, she got one more surprise: There lying on the bed, were Lizzy and Jason, kissing and hugging and making out like there was no tomorrow. They lay sideways, pressed up against each other; one of Lizzy’s legs draped over Jason a he ran his fingers through her hair. They were so into each other; they didn’t even notice Zippy at first. When they did, they broke the kiss, but didn’t give much of a hint of embarrassment and didn’t let go of each other.
Zippy felt herself blush; this was where Lizzy had been all day. Zippy was no prude by any means, but the idea that her dispassionate gloomy room mate might have snuck off to play tonsil hockey with a guy was surprising enough to be a little embarrassing.
“Uh . . . sorry.” Zippy stammered lamely.
“Hi, Zippy.” Lizzy said, grinning mischievously.
With nothing to say, Zippy simply reached down and grabbed up the first camera she saw, sitting on the top of a box with the others. As she picked it up, Melody and Krystal stuck their heads around the corner, both instantly displaying sheepish grins.
“I should have warned you,” Melody chuckled, “They’ve been up here for hours.”
Lizzy and Jason ignored them and planted their lips on each other. Zippy hastily slipped out closing the door behind her. Her brain was doing summersaults; Lizzy, of all people. Well, get a grip, Zippy, Lizzy’s just as much a girl as you are, and you’ve spent lots of time holed up with guys sucking face.
All in all, this had been an exciting day: Her project had been a success. Hell, her project was apparently gettin’ some. Krystal was displaying more feminine traits, and Lizzy had proved that she wasn’t quite as cold as she always looked. Despite everything that had happened, this would have to go down as a positive day for all of them. Zippy smiled a little to herself, it wasn’t very scientific, but things had a way of working out for themselves.
Krystal giggled still a little red, “Well, I guess there’s romance in the air today.”
Krystal cringed as soon as she said it, because Zack was looking at her expectantly.
Woof! Woof! Hi, I’m Nadjia Farrell! Unfortunately, my sister and I aren’t in the next chapter either, but don’t let that put you off because Stitchy takes her first stroll away from the house, Krystal finds herself giving a fashion show, and Mandy gets into some serious trouble in the next chapter of Zippy Zipperdale: Moderately Mad Scientist “The Seventh Experiment”.
EurekaI’ve got it!