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Attack of the Relationsheep

by on September 2, 2011

Hope Donahue assumed she had this whole babysitting thing down. She’d heard the horror stories, read the Calvin and Hobbes strips where Calvin nearly drove Rosalyn to distraction, but Hope wasn’t worried about that at all. She had it covered. And so far, everything was going swimmingly. More swimmingly than Michael Phelps in the Summer Olympics. That was how swimmingly it was.

Her charge, the bland, well-behaved Montgomery Witherby (age three), had already been tucked neatly away in bed. Last time she checked, he’d been snoring like a champ. She had no more responsibilities, she’d gone through her college homework already, and so Hope figured she had time to kick back and relax till little Montgomery’s parents came home. She flipped on the TV, popped open a Mountain Dew, and settled in to watch her favorite soap opera, Militant Bicyclists of Love. That night’s episode was the one where Edward’s good twin Tyler had just escaped from a prison in Nepal and had rushed back on his bicycle to confess his undying love for Holly (except it wasn’t Holly, it was actually Charlene who was really in love with dashing skateboarder Nathaniel who thought he was a werewolf but he wasn’t really because the whole thing existed in Polly’s daydream while she was lying in a mental hospital in Kansas.) Hope gasped as Tyler looked Charlene in the eye and said, “Holly, if you don’t marry me, I’ll get on my bike and ride away to Canada. You’ll never see me again, for I will be…*dramatic pause*….*cue music*….gone with the Schwinn.”

“Oh, Tyler, whatever shall I do? Wherever shall I go?” Holly/Charlene/whatever her name was breathed in frenetic excitement.

Hope was on the edge of her seat. Then, at that precise moment, the power died. Thunder crackled outside the window, which actually was a random meteorological phenomenon that had nothing to do with the story. Then Hope’s cell phone chirped. She wasn’t worried, though, because she knew that in the horror movies where the babysitter’s alone and the power goes out, the creepy evil spirits or bad guys always use the landline. Besides, it might be her on-again, off-again boyfriend Kevin. She would’ve preferred the creepy evil spirit to Kevin, at the moment; they’d had a blistering argument earlier that day and now she never ever ever wanted to speak to him ever again so long as she lived. With that thought twisting inside her like a centipede of despair, Hope popped her phone open and answered it.

At first she heard nothing. Then, softly, slightly distorted by crackling static, she heard a single syllable. “Baaaaaa.”

“Kevin? Is this you? It’d better not be. ‘Cause if it is, you’re a total twip, you know that?”

“Baaaaa.” *click*.

Before Hope could wonder whether she ought to call law enforcement about the mysterious sinister bleating, she heard a rattle in the basement. Now, it was at this point that Hope committed a serious mistake. She decide to go down into that basement and investigate the noise, all by herself. She really should have known that it is a very unwise idea to investigate strange noises in basements when one is all by oneself. She did, however, have a Taser, so that might’ve counted for something, if the intruder had only been a burglar. It wasn’t a burglar.

Taser in hand, Hope pushed the basement door open. It gave an ominous creek. Completely disregarding all the horror-movie rules for survival, she started down the steps. Oddly enough, the basement didn’t quite seem like an ordinary basement. There was no sump pump, no washing machine or freezer, no piles of dusty books. Instead she saw a row of chairs before a desk. Then, just as she reached the last step, Hope froze in her tracks. She could see who was sitting at the desk now. It wasn’t a person. It was a sheep. A really, really big sheep.

“I…” it bleated, “am the Relationsheep of Doom. I have come to devour you messily. Baaaa.”

“You huh what?” Hope said, a bit incoherently. It’s hard to compose a grammatically correct sentence when one is confronted by a Relationsheep.

The horrible creature rolled its eyes. “I am a vengeful sheep spirit sworn to devour anyone who is unpleasantly involved with another person. Baaa.”

“But I’m not….”

“You had an argument with Kevin.”

Hope could not believe this. “First off, how do you know what I had with Kevin?”

“I am the Relationsheep!” it said, raising and waving its front hooves in a most irate manner. “I know all! I know that you had an argument with him about whether you should watch The Notebook or Battle: Los Angeles! And furthermore, you-”

“Look, we had a civil discussion about whether to watch a sweet romantic story or some movie with aliens and explosions. That’s all. And I really-”

“Do not interrupt me!” the creature roared. “I am the Relationsheep!”

That did it. “I don’t give a flying baby-eating dingo!” Hope snapped. “You don’t know one single thing about me and Kevin, you know why? Cause you’re a stupid giant sheep! And so help me, I swear if you wake Montgomery up I will make you into a sweater! A SWEATER!”

I know all!” the Relationsheep repeated, not daunted in the least. “You and Kevin are finished! You’ll never get back together!”

Hope’s eyes flashed. “OH YEAH?” She snatched her cell phone and mashed the number 2 button, which was Kevin on speed-dial. “You watch!” And right there, before the Relationsheep could stop her, she called up Kevin, who (by sheer coincidence) had been about to call her. It didn’t take nearly as long as she’d thought to work out a compromise. They decided to watch both movies back-to-back, which would make for interesting mood whiplash, but would at least restore peace and happiness. Hope wound up the call and rounded about the Relationsheep. “So what do you think of that, huh? Huh?”

The Relationsheep smiled a sheepish smile. “My work here is done. Baaaa.” It vanished in a flash of puce light.

Hope never saw the Relationsheep again. She and Kevin went on to have a happy relationship, and in fact she wound up working in Hollywood and produced a blockbuster movie that involved both a sweet romantic story and fiery explosions. Montgomery Witherby, on the other hand….but that’s another story. *dun dun DUNNNNNN…..*

This story was written for Prompt Number Thirty-four of the Chrysalis Experiment. I’m not perfectly satisfied with the story, but, c’est la vie. Next up, the dramatic battle between The Princess Formerly Known as Catrina and her evil nemesis…Suuuusan.

 

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8 Comments
  1. Baa!! (ha, ha. lol.) The things you think up. “I have come to devour you messily,” lol. Flipping funny writing. I’ve yet to finish mine, blehblehbleh…

  2. I don’t know why, but I’ve always been amused by the phrase “devour messily”. I read too much Calvin and Hobbes when I was a kid, maybe. 😛
    And hey, technically, I’m a week behind. So you’re doing wonderfully compared to me.

  3. This was actualy brilliant! You switched gears in the basement and completely took me by surprise!
    Well done, good sir.

  4. Jenn permalink

    Let’s see RL Stine try and top that!!!

    • I never actually read any of his books; I did read a book by someone else where his teacher turned out to be a brain-sucking alien. I don’t think there was a sheep in that one, though.

      • I read RL Stine back before he did Goosebumps (never read any of those). The Point books he did were pretty cool.

  5. Right now all I can say is… LOL. And that IS in the dictionary, so there!I really love the weird places your mind goes to Michael 😉

    • You can blame one of my professors for this one. He inadvertently said “relationsheep” when he meant relationship”. And I got to thinking, hey. Relationsheep! That would be an interesting story! The rest, as they say, is history. 😛

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