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Disclaimer: I don't own Pretender, Broots, or Toy Story 2. Mwhahaha.
Not Today, Zurg
by RRP
I wish, for just five minutes, I could prove I have a backbone. I’m not sure if I really do, actually, only where it concerns Debbie. I’m a wimp, I’m a geek—I’m the standard stereotype. And there are days when I hate it.
Like yesterday, for example. Mr. Lyle (geez, I hate that guy) came into the Tech Room on Sub-Level 5 for something, and ended up walking all over Miss Parker. She took it like a pro, and shot back just as many barbs. But I saw that guarded, hurt look in her eye. When she started glaring at me, I just turned away. And hated myself for it.
So now, it’s a Saturday morning and I’m lying in bed, listening to the murmur of a video Debbie’s watching in the living room, and mourning my apparent lack of bravado. The phone rings, and I stumble out of bed to pick it up. I pass Debbie, enthralled in Toy Story 2 despite her age, and arrive in the dining room to grab the phone.
“Ello.” I mumble sleepily.
“Broots!” I hear Miss Parker’s tired voice snap at me through the phone line. “Get your rear here pronto, Scooby Doo. Something’s wrong with the computers.” Without giving me a chance to refuse, to say I have no one to watch Debbie, she hangs up. I sigh and growl at the phone in my hand, before slamming it pack down in it’s cradle.
I stagger to the living room, running one hand over my balding head, and lean against the door frame to watch Debbie. After a few moments, I find myself watching the movie instead.
Little toy characters run across the screen, several lines causing me to chuckle or grin. I open my mouth to tell Debbie we’ve got to go, when a character suddenly shouts and causes me to freeze.
“Not today, Zurg!” Running towards the plastic, nerf-shooting enemy, despite the very present toy danger, the tiny space ranger from galaxies away sounds triumphant and confident as he takes the evil toy’s attention off his friends.
If anyone ever tells you that you can’t learn anything from a kid’s movie, refuse to believe them. For in that moment, I knew when and where to find my missing backbone. If the chance ever presented itself, that is. I sighed again, and called out to Debbie.
“Come on, sweetie. Dad’s gotta go to work today.”
“Awww…” Debbie turns the TV off, and grumbles as she stands up. “Can I stay home by myself?” She’s getting so grown up…
“No, not this time. Try again in another six months.” Try never! Not with where I work! “Find some stuff to bring while I get dressed. Will stop and get something to eat on the way there.”
“I already ate breakfast.” She mumbles sourly, nodding towards the washed dishes in the kitchen. I didn’t notice them earlier, and my eyes brim with tears. What kind of father am I, that I drag my daughter to work on a Saturday, when she barely sees me to begin with? I drop to my knees and pull her into a hug.
“Sorry, Deb. I didn’t even see.”
“Don’t start crying on me or I’ll tell Miss Parker.” Debbie warns, a smile creeping onto her face. Her eyes are twinkling, and I can’t help but laugh.
“How about we stop anyway and get a milkshake? I think I owe you.”
“You owe me more than a milkshake.” She shoots back as she trundles off to back a bag with things to do. I stand there, staring after her like a dork until I realize I’ve still gotta get dressed.
Thirty minutes later, we arrive at the Centre, slurping on milkshakes and laughing about something that happened at Debbie’s school. Passing people I know only by name, we wave and say hi, but don’t stop until we reach the Tech Room.
Debbie’s seated at a table, and Sydney is corralled to watch her, while I wander off in search of Miss Parker and the problem with the computers. Once she’s found, I’m yelled at for not getting there fast enough, then sent off to the network mainframe room to fix whatever the problem is.
As fate would have it, the problem is long and difficult and takes nearly forever to fix. I sigh once or twice for effect, and then began my trek back to the Tech Room where I left Debbie. Any memories of early in the day are briefly lost, as I’m too tired to think straight. I’m still seeing wires and codes run in front of my eyes.
In the Tech Room, Debbie shows me some of her drawings, which I applaud, and then tape select ones to my file cabinet. I notice Sydney has one or two clutched in his hands as well. I’m about to tell Debbie to get ready to go when angry voices near the Tech Room. Mr. Lyle and Miss Parker are at it again, arguing and using words that normal, sparring brothers and sisters would even consider using.
“At least I’m not weak like Mom was! You had the bad fortune to even look like her!” The words fly out of Lyle’s mouth, and all movement in the room ceases. Frozen, Miss Parker’s mouth drops open in shock and disbelief, and her eyes brim with moistness. Sydney’s eyes are glimmering dangerously, and Mr. Lyle is just standing there looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Before I can even think, I’m standing between Mr. Lyle and Miss Parker, shoving my finger in his chest and speaking in low, grating tones.
What exactly am I doing? Do I have a death wish? I listen to myself, and I’m shocked by what is leaving my mouth.
“Shut the hell up and stay away from Miss Parker. I don’t care if she’s your freaking twin, you sure as hell don’t treat her like it. And the next time you insult Catherine Parker, who was a whole lot stronger than you by the way, I’ll make sure you’re not breathing by the end of the day—even if that means I have to kill you myself. Now get outta my tech room before I decide not to give you a second chance.”
Lyle looks far too surprised to protest, and his mouth moves up and down silently before he turns and leaves the room. The room is silent behind me, and I’m again wondering what I’ve done. She’s probably going to kill me. Miss Parker likes to fight her own battles. Instead, I hear a little muffled, “Thanks, Broots.” She’s thanking me!
And it hits me that I found my backbone, when I hear my daughter behind me, whispering triumphantly:
“Not today, Zurg!”
by RRP
I wish, for just five minutes, I could prove I have a backbone. I’m not sure if I really do, actually, only where it concerns Debbie. I’m a wimp, I’m a geek—I’m the standard stereotype. And there are days when I hate it.
Like yesterday, for example. Mr. Lyle (geez, I hate that guy) came into the Tech Room on Sub-Level 5 for something, and ended up walking all over Miss Parker. She took it like a pro, and shot back just as many barbs. But I saw that guarded, hurt look in her eye. When she started glaring at me, I just turned away. And hated myself for it.
So now, it’s a Saturday morning and I’m lying in bed, listening to the murmur of a video Debbie’s watching in the living room, and mourning my apparent lack of bravado. The phone rings, and I stumble out of bed to pick it up. I pass Debbie, enthralled in Toy Story 2 despite her age, and arrive in the dining room to grab the phone.
“Ello.” I mumble sleepily.
“Broots!” I hear Miss Parker’s tired voice snap at me through the phone line. “Get your rear here pronto, Scooby Doo. Something’s wrong with the computers.” Without giving me a chance to refuse, to say I have no one to watch Debbie, she hangs up. I sigh and growl at the phone in my hand, before slamming it pack down in it’s cradle.
I stagger to the living room, running one hand over my balding head, and lean against the door frame to watch Debbie. After a few moments, I find myself watching the movie instead.
Little toy characters run across the screen, several lines causing me to chuckle or grin. I open my mouth to tell Debbie we’ve got to go, when a character suddenly shouts and causes me to freeze.
“Not today, Zurg!” Running towards the plastic, nerf-shooting enemy, despite the very present toy danger, the tiny space ranger from galaxies away sounds triumphant and confident as he takes the evil toy’s attention off his friends.
If anyone ever tells you that you can’t learn anything from a kid’s movie, refuse to believe them. For in that moment, I knew when and where to find my missing backbone. If the chance ever presented itself, that is. I sighed again, and called out to Debbie.
“Come on, sweetie. Dad’s gotta go to work today.”
“Awww…” Debbie turns the TV off, and grumbles as she stands up. “Can I stay home by myself?” She’s getting so grown up…
“No, not this time. Try again in another six months.” Try never! Not with where I work! “Find some stuff to bring while I get dressed. Will stop and get something to eat on the way there.”
“I already ate breakfast.” She mumbles sourly, nodding towards the washed dishes in the kitchen. I didn’t notice them earlier, and my eyes brim with tears. What kind of father am I, that I drag my daughter to work on a Saturday, when she barely sees me to begin with? I drop to my knees and pull her into a hug.
“Sorry, Deb. I didn’t even see.”
“Don’t start crying on me or I’ll tell Miss Parker.” Debbie warns, a smile creeping onto her face. Her eyes are twinkling, and I can’t help but laugh.
“How about we stop anyway and get a milkshake? I think I owe you.”
“You owe me more than a milkshake.” She shoots back as she trundles off to back a bag with things to do. I stand there, staring after her like a dork until I realize I’ve still gotta get dressed.
Thirty minutes later, we arrive at the Centre, slurping on milkshakes and laughing about something that happened at Debbie’s school. Passing people I know only by name, we wave and say hi, but don’t stop until we reach the Tech Room.
Debbie’s seated at a table, and Sydney is corralled to watch her, while I wander off in search of Miss Parker and the problem with the computers. Once she’s found, I’m yelled at for not getting there fast enough, then sent off to the network mainframe room to fix whatever the problem is.
As fate would have it, the problem is long and difficult and takes nearly forever to fix. I sigh once or twice for effect, and then began my trek back to the Tech Room where I left Debbie. Any memories of early in the day are briefly lost, as I’m too tired to think straight. I’m still seeing wires and codes run in front of my eyes.
In the Tech Room, Debbie shows me some of her drawings, which I applaud, and then tape select ones to my file cabinet. I notice Sydney has one or two clutched in his hands as well. I’m about to tell Debbie to get ready to go when angry voices near the Tech Room. Mr. Lyle and Miss Parker are at it again, arguing and using words that normal, sparring brothers and sisters would even consider using.
“At least I’m not weak like Mom was! You had the bad fortune to even look like her!” The words fly out of Lyle’s mouth, and all movement in the room ceases. Frozen, Miss Parker’s mouth drops open in shock and disbelief, and her eyes brim with moistness. Sydney’s eyes are glimmering dangerously, and Mr. Lyle is just standing there looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Before I can even think, I’m standing between Mr. Lyle and Miss Parker, shoving my finger in his chest and speaking in low, grating tones.
What exactly am I doing? Do I have a death wish? I listen to myself, and I’m shocked by what is leaving my mouth.
“Shut the hell up and stay away from Miss Parker. I don’t care if she’s your freaking twin, you sure as hell don’t treat her like it. And the next time you insult Catherine Parker, who was a whole lot stronger than you by the way, I’ll make sure you’re not breathing by the end of the day—even if that means I have to kill you myself. Now get outta my tech room before I decide not to give you a second chance.”
Lyle looks far too surprised to protest, and his mouth moves up and down silently before he turns and leaves the room. The room is silent behind me, and I’m again wondering what I’ve done. She’s probably going to kill me. Miss Parker likes to fight her own battles. Instead, I hear a little muffled, “Thanks, Broots.” She’s thanking me!
And it hits me that I found my backbone, when I hear my daughter behind me, whispering triumphantly:
“Not today, Zurg!”
