Stalking Doesn't Have To Be Just A Hobby You Know

Chrimeny Christmas: Stop staring at me!

Her angry plea does nothing to dissuade her aggressor. They don't even blink.

Chrimeny: Please stop. Why are you doing this?

No answer is given. A pair of lifeless eyes continue to stare at her. With no resolution in sight, and the behavior continuing, she starts to pull at her own crimpy, blonde hair. She screams in desperation.

Chrimeny: MAKE IT STOP!

As she borders on hysterics a man steps into the room with an annoyed look on his face. He brushes his brown hair away from his glasses before looking around the room. After a moment he finally gives up.

Daniel: Uhm, what is the problem Chrimeny?

How can he not see the obvious problem? She stomps her foot in anger before turning to finally look at him.

Chrimeny: What's the problem? What's the problem?!

He can tell she's close to one of her infamous tantrums, but knows interrupting her would only make it worse. She points over in the direction of the one who stares at her.

Chrimeny: She's the problem! Why is she staring at me like that? Make her stop Daniel.

Looking over, he finally realizes what is wrong. He sighs heavily in reaction. The person staring at her is a stuffed, pink platypus named Lucy. Normally Chrimeny loves all her plush "friends", but this one is different. It was a gift from Russ Hauer. The man she blames for at least half the wrong in the world. The man who stole her first kiss from her. His name can't even be spoken in her presence. It's on the list of banned words at her mansion. He'd urged her to throw the stupid animal out two years ago, but she feels that would be some form of animal cruelty. So instead, every so often, she starts getting paranoid about the thing. Her anger fades into sadness.

Chrimeny: Look at her. She's plotting against me. I just knows it. I'm like the bestest detectiver ever. I'm telling you there's something wrong and stuff.

He shakes his head. If one always believed her they'd think her to be the "bestest" everything ever. Though he is often frustrated by her, he's grown quite used to the way she is. She's been this way as long as he's known her. How can someone in the middle of their twenties be such a child? He's never figured that out. All he can do is accept it. He's one of her two paid, personal assistants. That also makes him one of her only friends...even if she doesn't always treat him well. He and Lelani, the other assistant, they get their revenge in small ways. They make her entrance music stuff she hates so that she plugs her ears all the way down to the ring. That was just the start of it all. Typically though he just deals with it.

Daniel: Why don't we just put Lucy somewhere where she can stay out of trouble and can't harm you?

She stops to think for a moment. A very serious look fills her features as if she is trying to solve a major, world issue.

Chrimeny: This is a big decision. I think I better consur...consult Bianca Doll.

Not her again is all he can think as she pulls a paper doll out of her pocket. The doll looks exactly like Bianca Autumn from Blonde Ambition. The woman has been a semi-obsession for Chrimeny since they met. She even went so far as to eventually drug Bianca to alter her mind to the point that Bianca practically worshipped her. This was during her phase where she thought she was paralyzed and got Bianca to come out to nurse her back to health. Daniel didn't like what she was doing and he worked against her secretly and helped Bianca's tag team partner return her to normal. She made this paper doll, that she talks to so often, back when she first met Blonde Ambition. He hadn't seen her with the paper doll in a month and had hoped she'd moved on from it. Apparently that's not the case.

Chrimeny: What do you think Bianca Doll?

She waddles the doll up her arm and onto her shoulder before leaning it forward to her ear as if the doll is whispering to her. She nods a few times as if agreeing with the worn piece of paper.

Chrimeny: Okay. We've come to a decision. My esteemed colleague thinks we should put Lucy up on a high shelf with a little dish of water and some platypus food, if you can find it. If you can't find it then use Lucky Charms. They're probably close enoughs. Oh and make sure she has a little nightlight. We don't want to be cruel. She can stay out of trouble, but still be happy. So get to it. Chop choppy chop!

With that she exits the room and leaves him to follow her instructions. She and Bianca Doll head through a series of hallways, passing by a multitude of rooms, before stopping in front of a room with a giant heart fingerpainted on the door. This would be her main bedroom. She opens the door and runs in before jumping on her giant, pink, canopy bed. She giggles and rolls around a bit before climbing down from the massive piece of furniture. She heads over to a little desk and sits down before setting Bianca Doll on the desk. She grabs a pair of old lady style, reading glasses without lenses in them and puts them on. She grabs a pen and a piece of paper and before writing clears her throat as if she's about to make a speech. Instead she puts pen to paper.

Dear Mr. Cracker Jack,

I'm writing you because something terrible is happening that I feel needs some immediate attention. I'm not sure you're aware of what your employees are doing, so I'm not blaming you, but recently a tragedy happened involving one of your boxes of wonderful carmel corn mixed with peanuts. It's one of the worst things to ever happen. I GOT A YUCKY PRIZE. I've come to accept that the peanuts always rest at the bottom. It's as if each box has been cursed by a wicked wicked gypsy lady to keep their deliciousness from mixing with the rest of the box. Fine. I'm okay with it. You're okay with it.

What I'm not okay with is this deal with the prize. Do you know what your stupid box gave me? It gave me a thing that folds around to reveal some picture of some president of the United States from like the year 1242! That's not a prize. It's some kind of evil mind control device designed to make people learn about cavemen! This is unnacceptable sir. I've never gotten such a bad prize in my life. How could you do this to me? Haven't I been good to your company? Haven't I been like loyal? You are darn right I have. I want you to make this up to me and I want your word I'll never get another bad prize again. As soon as you get this I expect you to make reparerers...I think that's how it's spelled. I'll be waiting for your apology sir. Good day.

Sincerely your favoritist eater of fine cracker jacks,

Chrimeny Christmas