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November 22, 2010 / peadyhollow

Tinkerbell’s Final Flight

Author’s Note – I wrote this back in March of 2009 and posted it on my Facebook page for my friends to pick apart. I figured now was a good time to send it to the masses via this blog thing I started. My friends still love poor April… and I am pretty sure my Mom is still not talking to me because I killed her off in the most horrific way possible. Splat, people, splat.

April Monahan never thought that she would die to the chorus of 10,000 screaming children. She thought she would go surrounded by family, warm in her bed, and drift off to backlit angels singing to her old lady-self as they beckoned her to heaven. She imagined they would all be as beautiful as the Blue Fairy that granted Pinocchio’s every wish. They would be the ones who took her home.

April Monahan was wrong.

April’s death would cost the company she worked for millions of dollars in therapy sessions for all who had witnessed her downfall. Not everyone gets to die in the spotlight. April Monahan did.

April always wanted to be famous, and thanks to that damn spotlight, she would make national coverage in the news. She would go viral on You Tube. Her life would be picked apart for years. Stories would be written about her life. The irony that she took her life and work so seriously would become fodder for the masses. She, by all accounts, was the real thing, but April never wanted to be known for something like this. She had spent her life making millions smile until that hot night in Florida when April hit the pavement. Clap all you want, April was gone, and there was no saving her.

April had woken up, the morning she died, with a smile on her face. It had become her custom to say her hellos to the world as she fluffed her bright blond pixie cut, with her perfectly manicured glittery fingernails, before stretching her arms over her head.

She wrapped her mint green bathrobe around herself, slid into a white fluffy pair of slippers with a poofy white ball on the toe, and hummed as she walked into her bright kitchen to make a cup of herbal tea.

She giggled as her white Persian cat, Pan, twirled around her legs as if to remind her that he was hungry. Moments after popping the top and serving the cat food, she would bend down and touch the cat’s nose as if to grant the cat it’s fondest wish of food. Once completed, she would make her way to the treadmill for her daily jog. She was undecided as to what to listen to this morning, Normally, she picked something that would help her focus and keep pace. April picked upbeat. April was never downbeat.

An hour passed before she pulled her rubbery legs off of the equipment muttering, “No one wants a fat fairy,” to her empty apartment, as she headed to the shower. April would step out of the shower, slip and almost crack her skull off the porcelain tub.

“Oh, that was close,” she would say to the foggy mirror. The instant rush of adrenaline quickened her heartbeat and flushed her cheeks. But she continued to smile.

April wondered what would have happened to her if she had been wounded or killed. Pan would probably pick her clean. Cats did that you know, snack on their owners in the event of a fatality, unlike dogs that would lie down and cuddle their dead masters. It would be weeks before someone would come and find her if it wasn’t for her job.

April found it hard to keep friends, or even lovers in this sad, unhappy, society. No one appreciated her for being happy all the time. They called her delusional. She was the constant optimist and the only men that would ever pick her up were the kind that would like to live out the fantasy of screwing the living breathing cartoon character from their childhood. She only took home the ones who seemed genuinely interested in who she was as a person – it wasn’t until her clothes were strewn across the house did they feel the need to ask her to put on one of her 15 sets of sparkly wings displayed in her bedroom. Sometimes, if she felt a close enough connection to the man, she would oblige. Sometimes she would ask them to leave. Either way, they never called back and she knew that she was the source of countless high-fives the next day as the bastards told all of their friends that they had fucked Tinkerbell.

But, April knew that someday she would find the right man that would love her for who she was, even better if he was wearing green tights and a feather in his cap. At least then she knew she wouldn’t be alone anymore. April looked forward to the day when this would come. April was in Neverland.

April had taken the job six years ago, when she was 19, as the one and only Tinkerbell that sailed across the wire at Disney’s Magic Kingdom. It was her job to fly across the park in order to signal the beginning of the Main Street Parade and following fireworks display.

April always knew that she was the source of happiness for the thousands of people that visited the park daily, but some of her co-workers had said she took it too far. April was confused by the constant taunts because she thought it perfectly normal to love her job and embrace it as best she could. This had been her daily routine, as she had not missed a day since she was hired. As far as her bosses were concerned, she was the perfect employee. She had made a friend in Bridgette, who played Ariel, when she was new, but then Matilda, who played Ursula the sea witch, took the fledgling mermaid under her wing and told her what the crew thought of April. It was nice for a minute to have a friend. But April looked on the bright side, as usual, because it took a brave girl like her to be hooked up to the harness each night. She loved that she could hear the reverence from the people on the ground. She knew she was loved, even if for a few minutes each night.

By the time April arrived at work, driving her mint-green Volkswagen bug with the mini-wings on top, and license plate spelling TINKIZREAL, into the parking lot, she was in high spirits. She double-stepped into the bright and excited park, dodging her way through tourists as she located the warehouse that became the character bullpen a few years earlier. She walked in the door, nearly tripping over an overly-tanned Tarzan as he was exiting to make a public appearance. Out of the corner of her eye, she could hear headless pair of over-sized chipmunks teasing her in the corner, but April headed towards her dressing room.

She tried not to let anything get her down as she undressed and started covering herself with glitter, and then glued her fake eyelashes on. She slipped into a shimmering pair of dance tights and then slid on her mint-green short dress. She pinned a blonde-bun hairpiece to the back of her head for effect, hiding the pins with matching mint green ribbon. April stepped into a pair of lace up ballet slippers with a white poof ball on the toes. In the original movie, Tink lacked the laces, but when you are soaring hundreds of feet in the air, the chances of killing a tourist when a shoe falls off is less when you have some ribbon support. She squirted a dollop of gel into her hands and ran her glittering nails through her hands as she spiked her pixie cut to make her nearly identical to her character.

April stood back and stared at herself in the mirror and tightened her knees, tilted her arms in an outward fashion and bounced in her step. She curtsied. She was lucky her nose was slender and slightly pointed because she didn’t need a prosthetic piece. This made her smile as she gave herself a final look over. She put one hand on her hip, and raised her arm and pretended to wave to the crowd. She noticed then she was being watched and teased, only this time instead of those bastard chipmunks; it was the gaggle of princesses lined up for the parade. Snow White, Cinderella, Jasmine, Sleeping Beauty, Belle, and even her momentary friend Ariel, scowled at April as she began to get even more into character than she was on a normal basis. She smiled at the women and wished them the best of luck as they crossed their arms, turned their noses up, and strutted into position without so much as an acknowledgment.

April sighed. In a moment she would be harnessed at the base of Cinderella’s Castle for the 10-minute ascent to the highest tower. As much as those women wanted to hate her, she knew they were secretly jealous that she was the big attraction.

The levitation device was the same color as her costume, as not to be seen by any park-goers, and was a basic harness. The gadget was motorized and all April needed to do for her job was not become nervous about the height and strike as many in-flight poses as she could. The control base was run by a man named Vern, who like her, had never missed a day of work and might be the only one in this magical land that understood, or tolerated, her enough to be kind.

April walked over to the control base as Vern tucked her into her final piece of costume. She smiled the biggest smile she could muster as she listened to the announcer directing the patrons to look her way as she lit up the castle.

The crowds roared and April, for the first time all day, felt like she was right back to where she belonged. A nervous flutter in her stomach caught her by surprise as she began to take off.

“That’s strange,” she said to herself, behind a forced- ear-to-ear smile.

April had only had butterflies the first time she had run this “straight on till dawn” gauntlet. She chocked it up to nothing as she rose higher and higher into the air. Glancing down at the crowd April could see a grouping of little girls, accompanied by their parents, all dressed up like Tinkerbell, shouting her name as she traveled overhead. She pulled out her satchel of magic pixie dust and dumped it on the kids as they gleefully screamed in excitement.

Those little girls were the reason why she took her job so seriously. She gave those little ones something to believe in. She gave them the idea that they could accomplish anything they wanted in as long as they had good thoughts. She was the epitome of hope to so many people and no one would ever be able to take that away from her.

That is when April heard the loud pinging sound. She was 300 feet in the air. She realized that something had gone wrong with the thick steel wire. The echo off the plaster buildings was deafening and sounded like an electronic war of steel. She turned around, which was breaking protocol, just in time to see Vern mouth her name. She could see the concern on his face as she turned back towards the castle. April started to panic when the screams began below. The little girls, once smiling and glittering from head to toe from the pixie dust, were no longer shouting in excitement, but in horror.

“Mommy, why can’t she just fly away,” one of the children asked in a shout.

It broke April’s heart to hear the worried mother reply “Because she isn’t real.”

She was real. She had lived her life believing in the greatness of imagination. She was living proof that if you wanted something badly enough you could make your own dreams come true. April thought that if those were her little girls she could cover their eyes to save them from fear. The parents were too awe-struck with the unfolding scene to demonstrate any concern with the well being of the small ones at their feet.

The noise of the ever-thinning wire grew louder. As each cable that broke caused April to drop each time the tension loosened causing the massive crowd to gasp each time she bounced.

April quietly wished she had kept some of the pixie dust because it was looking like she was going to need it as the motorized harness brought her higher and higher, dipping her each time another of the steel strand snapped. The mechanics in the harness weren’t moving as fast as they normally did, but every inch, each second, was bringing her to a more elevated level of stress.

This had never happened. In all of the years that the park had been open this tradition had never had an incident. Tinkerbell always landed on her feet. Always.

April had begun to panic, but she knew that flailing would only to cause the cable to break faster. She looked for an escape and decided that it would be best if she were to try to undo herself from the harness and slide back down. She ripped her fingers across the harness, breaking one of her glittering perfect nails in the process, only managing to undo a single clasp.

April began to cry as the scream of another spit cable dropped her a little lower. She guessed she was 600 feet in the air slowing climbing to 700. She turned her head to see Vern shouting at security. She was too far away to hear what he was saying, but she knew that the security guards weren’t moving fast enough.

The wire flinched and April remained motionless for a moment, until she realized that the cable had snapped completely. She started to fall and found herself grasping on to the wire that had betrayed her, breaking more of her beautiful nails. The spotlight, that was her friend on so many nights, was blinding her and following her as the Happiest Place on Earth watched this iconic piece of pop culture let go of the wire and free fall. Each pair of eyes that was watching her would recall the event as instantaneous, as the girl plummeted to her death, but it is never that quick when you are the one in the predicament, or so April found out the hard way.

The fall, to her, seemed like it last ten years and she didn’t have her life flash before her. She, instead, thought of her happy thought, her cat. Because maybe if fairytales really did come true, she would be able to save herself by believing that she could. Isn’t that how magic worked? April thought of her cat Pan and tried with everything she had to make herself fly. She took a deep breath, ready to make the impossible happen, smiled…. And that is when April Monahan hit the pavement and all of her thoughts of flying turned into a messy, glittering, gory, puddle. April thought she has succeeded in flight, as she lived for another moment, as her body bounced after impact.

Her splattered body landed at the feet of the Pixie Dust covered little girls. Their store-bought costumes covered in blood, their faces dripping with shock and what remained of April’s liquidated internal organs. Screams filled the park as people hide their children’s faces. Security began escorting people out of the vicinity of where she had landed. Cameras were starting to be confiscated. Someone had made off with one of April’s shoes as a souvenir. The impact had knocked her completely out of her ribbon-laced shoe.

An old man in a uniform walked over to April’s, now disemboweled, body and knelt in her remains. Vern had done everything he could to save the young girl’s life and had failed. The old man cried amid the chaos and was shaking until he felt a small hand on his shoulder.

It was one of the blood soaked children. Glitter still causing the few clean spots on her face to sparkle. Tears were running down her face causing her face to leak red watery stains on her already tarnished costume. The little girl had strayed away from her mother, who was now throwing up in a bush, and helpless to protecting her child from the dead pixie, and had walked over to Vern to help mourn the fallen fairy.

That is when the child began to clap.

Vern, distraught, looked up at the child in disgust, thinking she thought it was part of the show, until he understood what she was doing. In the story of Peter Pan, Tinkerbell had consumed the poison to save Peter, and the only way to bring the fairy back to life was to clap until she was revived.

Vern joined her in the applause and whispered under his breath, “I believe in fairies,” but no amount of applause, which was now getting louder, or belief that she could spring back to life, would bring a smile back to Tinkerbell lifeless face.

April Monahan always thought that she deserved a standing ovation for her dedication to make-believe, but she never got to hear it. She always thought that someday, a day would be named after her for her notoriety and fame, but all she got was the Disney park closed down for two days, because when she hit the pavement, pieces of her would be found in the most unlikely places. Her arm, or what was left of it, was found under the Dumbo ride. It would take a clean-up crew of 60 to clean her off the sidewalk with a pressure washer. The rest of her was scooped up with shoved and placed into a plastic Rubbermaid container for the autopsy.

April Monahan always believed that someday she would fly, and in the end, she did, she just didn’t make it very far.

November 22, 2010 / peadyhollow

Zelda eats acid and dances all over Link.

the Trinity (Original mix) – Shusaku by Shusaku

November 22, 2010 / peadyhollow

Hell yes, I know the Muffin Man.

I was pondering starting this thing under a pseudonym. Then I realized that if anyone picked up on it – chances are – they would have me figured out in a millisecond. I have never been one for keeping myself secret. Center stage. The obnoxious deity that causes far too much attention to be drawn to herself.

I had spent so much time writing in the past years that I think I have forgotten, in my absence from the world of words, how not to write about my second-choice of a job. Layoffs = dramatic return to the wonderful realm of retail.

I guess this is me. Forcing myself back in to my old clothes. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I think I have so much to say, pent up in my system, that I might be giving myself a literary muffin-top.