|via carabella sands|
After breaking the ice with a few dirty jokes, the monster offered to help Mr. Mortified with his laundry and said he was even willing to babysit his cat if needed. Mortified said that although he didn't have a cat, his turtles and rats could use a massage and a teeth cleaning, provided his insurance plan would cover it. He then offered the monster a handful of dried beaver chops and asked his name.
Though the monster declined the food, he said that his name was Willoughbee Straightshooter and he had recently realized that he was a failed monster. He couldn't scare anyone. "I remember the last basement I lived in," he said. "I was trying to scare the family of chickens that lived upstairs, making my usual noises and such. I heard a bunch of howling and then several thumps. I raced upstairs to see what happened. Turned out the entire family had died of laughter. You should have seen the smiles on their beaks. Well, that was that. I wasn't scary. So I decided, fuck it, I'll just get along with the upstairs folks from now on. You sure you don't need me to do anything? Those back hairs are looking pretty out of hand."
Scantly P. Mortified and Willoughbee Straightshooter are to be married in June.