Cynthia is a very proper human who was brought to a magical land where she meets a talking bunch of fake flowers. Together they must close a portal that is bringing characters from other stories into the land.
Authors note – I tried to write this story as a piece of humor. In order for that to work well, I had to sacrifice character growth and the roundness of my characters for much flatter characters. In my opinion, these characters are more like caricatures than sculptures.
Once upon a time, Cynthia was a normal human being. She lived in a normal house, with a normal husband and a normal need to clean EVERYTHING. And so, once upon a time, Cynthia pulled out her cleaner. She had guests coming and she wanted to make extra sure that everything was clean. The last time Mrs. Traxhouse had been over she had wandered into the attic while Cynthia was making tea and Cynthia had been mortified. Simply mortified! The attic was a disaster, what with it being Teddy’s workspace. Sawdust on the floor, a desk half made on one of the benches, even Teddy’s ugly friend up there with him.
Well, nothing could change that now. Cynthia would just have to make a good impression today.
“Theodore Ramsdike Bellhaven, you come down here right now!” As Teddy clomped down the stairs, belly first, Cynthia surveyed her house one last time. Sufficient. That would have to serve.
Teddy was holding his coins. That wasn’t a good sign. It meant he’d be wanting to perform a magic trick for Traxhouse today. “No magic tricks today, Theodore. You know how that turned out last time.” Images of the fire department fighting Godzilla flooded her brain and she shuddered.
“Aww, Cindy. I’ve been working on this one for a long time. I can make things disappear.”
“No.” Cynthia was firm on this. There would be no ruining her audience with Traxhouse. Teddy began performing the trick because “it’s harmless, see Cindy, there’s nothing that could go wrong.” He slammed the handkerchief on the table, yelled Presto and Cynthia felt something pulling her. “Theodore, what did you do?”
“Nothing, I swear.” And now Cynthia had to push her skirt down because it was flying up. And then a purple circular shape flew through the kitchen window and Cynthia began being pulled in.
Her last words were, “Make sure that you give Traxhouse the muffins. And don’t make a mess!” And then her shoes had landed in a pile of mud. Naturally, Cynthia began screaming although it was in a very ladylike fashion.
“Are you okay?” Cynthia looked up but didn’t see anyone there.
“As a matter of fact, I am not”
“Oh, good.” Cynthia was starting to get mad now.
“Where are you?” She shouted. “I don’t see anyone around here.”
“That’s good because we’re not an anyone.”
“Really?” Cynthia was sincerely sceptical.
The voice came again, sarcastic this time, “No, we were joking. You can tell by the lack of people around here.”
Cynthia was getting annoyed. “Then what are you?”
“Do you want the real answer or a lie?” Cynthia didn’t deign to answer that question. “We’re something even more dull and prudish than you are.” The thing, whatever it was, laughed. “That, of course, is the lie. There is no one more dull and prudish than you. Here’s the truth – we are a talking bunch of fake flowers.”
At that, Cynthia inhaled. This thing had such a nerve. She brandished the water spraying cleaner that she still held in her hand. “Show yourself!”
And a bouquet of fake flowers began hopping before her. A lesser woman would have fainted but Cynthia still prides herself upon her ladylike scream.
After a few moments in which Cynthia shook the flowers repeatedly, she gave up trying to prove herself crazy and began attempting to adapt. Naturally, for Cynthia that mean spraying the flowers repeatedly to try and clean the gunk of of them. “How did you get so dirty?”
“Hey, lady, we’re fake flowers! We don’t need water!” That comment led to another dousing.
Once the flowers were spotless (and quiet), Cynthia began questioning her sanity. I’m in a land of talking flowers – either I’m insane or I’m in another world. But, I couldn’t be insane – I’m the least insane person I know. So Cynthia had just decided she was sane when the Wicked Witch of the West arrived through another purple portal.
“I will kill you, my pretties!” The Witch cackled in anticipation.
“Actually, only we are pretty. Cynthia is a different case.” This was the flowers. Cynthia groaned and began spraying them again. The flowers began screaming and so did – the witch? Cynthia looked up and saw that the witches toe had melted off.
“NOOOO – It burns, it burns!” The Witch began screaming.
“Your toe was dirty anyways. And, you shouldn’t threaten people if you want them to treat you nicely.” And Cynthia began spraying the witch and the witch began screaming and Cynthia told the Witch to take her portals with her and the portals disappeared and the flowers made a sarcastic comment that nobody heard. And everyone aside from Cynthia, and the Witch, and the flowers who had to stay with Cynthia lived happily ever after.