Mr. Furbell

Another Smiling Toy Shop tale!

                                              Mr. Furbell

 

     ‘Mr. Furbell’ was pissed!  Not only was his new name Mr. Furbell, but his new home was a dresser, and not just any dresser, the dresser of a pecker-child named Crimp, so-called because his dick was tied in knots.  Jasper had been this close to making it to closing time, until Mr. Vesta, the old man/idiot owner had unwisely unlocked the door for a begging b*****d, who used the old ‘had to work late’ excuse.  Of course, the slope-headed dick knot had chosen him.  Now he was sitting here, watching Crimp read; oh boy, somebody call The Excitement Police!

 

 

     Jasper had sat up on the dresser for hours, as Crimp finished his book, and got up.  Jasper had tensed, all set to be sent sailing through the air like a kite; having his limbs almost ripped off; punched in the face, and hooked to a string and pulled through the house like a wagon gone mad, but all Crimp did was grab another book, and flop back down on his bed.  It was more than Jasper could take.

 

     “Oh great, a wussy kid,” he blurted.  “live a little; raise some hell, instead of laying around in The Boredom Library.”

 

     Crimp started, and the eyes that stared back at Jasper reflected both shock and terror.  “Who are you?”

 

     “What, no ‘how can this be real; how can you talk?’  Well, guess what?  This is real, and do you see this?  It’s called a mouth, and when I open it, words come out; with all the reading you do, you sure are dense!”

 

     Crimp just stared with his mouth agape. 

 

     “What, you act like I’m the first talking teddy bear you’ve ever seen.”

 

     Still, Crimp remained silent. 

 

     “Okay, this game blows; let’s try one in which you actually respond; I’ll start; ‘how are you, Crimp?’”

 

     “No way!”

 

     “Well, at least we know the boy doesn’t have lock jaw; please, you’re on a roll, try to say something else.”

 

     “No way!”

 

     “Hey kid, you already said that; no way what?”

 

     “No way this is happening!”

 

     “I’ll say it slower so you can have time to process it; ‘T-h-i-s i-s r-e-a-l-l-y h-a-p-p-e-n-i-n-g.”

 

     “But you’re a stuffed bear.”

 

     “’Ding, ding, ding, ding,’ somebody give the boy a prize!”  Wow, are you like a genius or something?” 

 

     “You know, you’re kind of an a**hole teddy bear, aren’t you?”

 

     “Well, I’m shocked; such language from the mouths of babes.”

 

     “I’m going to tell father.”

 

     “Yeah, you do that.  Tell him you’re carrying on a conversation with your new toy stuffed teddy bear; see how well that works out for you, Crimp.”

 

  

     Well, Jasper had to hand it to Crimp-Dick; credit, not his dick, if he’d of had one; instead of being bullied into surrender, he’d waited until everyone in the house was asleep, slapped masking tape over Jasper’s mouth so he didn’t have a chance to use his mumbo-jumbo, taken him down to the recycle place, and thrown him in the bin, where he was lying next to a reject Barbie doll.  He had tried to scream, but the tape made screaming impossible.  

 

     “Mmmm mmmm, mmm!”, was the best he could manage, but only silence was to be heard.  Great, the kid must have bigger stones than he thought!

 

The End