I am not a climber. I do what I have to do, but I don’t go out looking for adventure. I don’t need to know what’s on every shelf in the room, or in any other rooms. I don’t need to know if there are better dolls in the dining room or better booze in the kitchen. I am pretty content in my own little world.
Unlike other dolls, I might add. My friend, Penn, laughs at me, calls me an old stick in the mud, but Penn is much younger, and he’s vinyl, for god’s sake. If he falls, he bounces. I’m much more fragile. I’ve seen many a bisque doll fall and break their faces. It’s the stuff of nightmares. But I’ve known many bisque dolls that just don’t seem to care, who love the danger, I guess, who don’t want to spend their lives worrying about the consequences.
And I’m not above listening to their adventures, living vicariously, I guess. Though, warning! you can’t believe everything you hear. At least, not with this bunch.
You’ve heard about the time, I’m sure, that the Grand Duke sobered up and realized he’d spent an entire day on the wrong shelf. Everybody’s heard that story. If there’s any doll that should have a biography written about them, it’s the Grand Duke. But, instead, who chronicles the life of dolls? Me, the dullest of them all. Instead of hearing about great adventures and drunken revels, you get to hear about who’s wearing what and who’s sneaking around with whom. My sincerest apologies for this. Alas, alack, and all that.
There is a new-ish doll, Vanessa, rather silly, I think, but Penn just seems to be infatuated with her. She’s one of those 1940’s hard plastics, very lovely, but the kind that tend to go all yellowish and smell bad, you know? I don’t know what he sees in her, but I sure hope he wakes up sometime soon! I mean, really now. He chases after her like a puppy dog. It’s embarrassing. And don’t say I’m jealous. I wouldn’t stoop to being jealous of a hard plastic doll. Not in this life. Someday he’ll come to his senses and things will get back to normal, but for now it’s Vanessa this and Vanessa that, ad nauseam.
Vanessa wanted to throw a party, I guess, and she very sweetly wished she had some of those butter cookies that Elizabeth had at hers. If she was only a brave soul like Penn, she’s sure that if Penn took it into his head to go fetch butter cookies, it would be as good as done, but, no, she is a timid little thing, and, oh dear, what can she do?
Of course, Penn fell for it and next thing you know he’s rounding up Annie Oakley (talk about fearless!), and off they went on this big quest. Off to the kitchen to scale the heights and raid the cookie tin. Next thing we knew, there was this huge crash – I guess the cookie tin went over – and we all waited with bated breath as slow minutes ticked past, but no one came. Slowly, we began to breathe again. Gradually, we resumed living.
They couldn’t get the cookie tin back up to the counter, though. There was nothing to hold on to, Penn said. So they tried to make it look as though it was an accident, the tin just fell off for some reason, the lid popped off – as it had bent some, it wouldn’t go back on, anyways. Humans can be pretty gullible, but this was really stretching it.
So Vanessa got her butter cookies, albeit a little crumbled. And the rest of us got a cat. Our owner thought she had mice, it was the only explanation she could come up with, and next thing you know, there’s a hulking white cat padding around on silent feet. One more obstacle to contend with. It prowls around when you least expect it, but it actually seems pretty harmless, and it can’t communicate with humans, so no matter what it sees, it can’t tell. We’ve been experimenting with it, seeing how far we can push it – the biggest danger seems to be if it leaps up onto a shelf. Things go flying. So far we haven’t lost a doll, but it’s been close. Vickie (our owner) is not very happy when this happens. Perseus gets yelled at. That could even be spelled Purrseus, but I can’t confirm it at this time. Humans can get pretty silly over cats. I haven’t seen any evidence of Perseus learning not to jump on shelves, however. Perseus just seems to do whatever it is that Perseus wants. Maybe the humans will get exasperated with it and send it away.
Maybe they’ll figure out we never did have any mice! Of course, then they’d need another explanation for the cookie tin on the floor.
Meanwhile, we’re all invited over to Vanessa’s for a party and I would never hear the end of it from Penn if I don’t show up.
I wonder what there’ll be to eat? (Ha ha ha ha!!!)