A little scene from Unreal Estate


Here’s a little scene from Chapter 3 of Unreal Estate I’m working on, hope you all enjoy!

 

 TUESDAY

 

Cooking, cleaning, laundry, cooking, cleaning, laundry…

 

With Kisei out of the house / Lorelei at the beach / Meiko out shopping, things were nice and quiet around the House. Mallory had hoped he could get some REC studying in during this quiet time, but with each attempt he made at the material, he invariably went cross eyed trying to parse the thick, creamy nuggets of technobabble.

 

Compared to that, the daily chores related to upkeep of the House were preferable.

 

He cooked with intensity, cleaned with fury, and did laundry like a man possessed by an ancient dead laundry master. Breakfast quality had risen so dramatically that Lorelei had started dragging herself out of bed before 10:00 AM to grab some leftovers, no matter what the state of her hangover was. The house was as spotless as he could manage without invading the privacy of his housemates — after the incident with Kisei the prior week, he tried to only enter their rooms when he absolutely had to.

 

‘Absolutely had to’ including putting away laundry, unfortunately. He walked up the stairs carrying two baskets of freshly washed/cleaned/pressed/dried clothing, with the datapad of REC study information balanced on top. He could read it after he put away the clothes. And after he straightened out the stock room. And after he vacuumed the upstairs hallway. And after…

 

For now, after he put away Eiko’s clothes. She certainly did have a lot of them, as she liked to wear a new outfit every day, much like her sister. He fumbled for the doorknob to her room, hand brushing by a cardboard door hanger sign before opening up and walking in…

 

“ONIICHAN!”

 

For a little girl, she managed to sack Mallory like an expert linebacker. Clothes went flying hither, tither, yon, and on the floor as well.

 

“Wagh!” Mallory protested, shaking his head to clear it. “Eiko…! Agh, now I gotta pick all this up… you should be careful when you run up to hug people! I mean, it’s not polite to do otherwise, and… err, why are you looking at me like I’m your favorite flavor of ice cream and you’re starving? It’s making me very nervous…”

 

“It’s time to play with Eiko-chan now!” Eiko spoke, with a decidedly predatory grin. “You can pick up the clothes after you finish your contractually accepted period of playtime!”

 

“My what of what of what?” Mallory asked, sitting up on the floor to be eye level with her.

 

With pride, Eiko pointed to the tiny sign hanging on her door knob. “Didn’t you read the End User Licensing Agreement I posted? All those who enter agree to the following terms: Will play with Eiko for a minimum of one (1) hour!”

 

“Ah… er, that’s very clever!” Mallory said, laughing nervously. “Ha ha… um, but I really don’t have time to play, I want to get the laundry done so I can study for my test– what’s this?”

 

“A subpoena for failure to meet contractual terms, of course,” Eiko said, holding out the prepared document in question. “You’ll hear from my lawyers for failure to play with me if you walk out that door!”

 

“…you’re just kidding, right?”

 

Eiko pointed to her adorable face with both hands. “Do these eyes lie?” she asked, staring with big, wide, only slightly frightening optic orbs.

 

“I.. guess I can play an hour,” Mallory decided, determined to turn this into a positive. “It’ll be a lot of fun, and I can still study for my test after dinner, I guess… okay! Um, what are we playing? Do you have a video game or something? I’ve never played one before, so–”

 

“Bah! Video games are for little kids,” Eiko spoke, nose in the air. “They’re just pattern memorization and button mashing. There’s no talent to them at all!”

 

“Really? They looked kind of fun to me… so, uh, what are we playing with, then?”

 

“DOLLS!” she announced, holding up a Kensuke™ doll and a Biiko™ doll. “We’re gonna play House!”

 

“…House? Err… how do you play?”

 

“Just make believe, silly,” she instructed, shoving her Kensuke™ doll into his hands as she dragged over her old, beat up doll house.

 

“C’mon, it’s not that hard! Okay, you start by coming home after work…”

 

The front door latch clicked open, as Kensuke™ strolled in after a long day of work. He hung his coat on the pink plastic coat rack next to the door, and called out to his loving wife.

 

“Biiko™ honey, I’m home!” he spoke loudly, with a proud smile. “It was a long day at the restaurant where I am a top chef, respected by all my fellow workers and customers alike!”

 

“No you’re not, you work as a golf course caretaker!” Biiko™ corrected, leaning out of the kitchen and waving a plastic spoon at him… before handing it to him. “Now make me dinner! I had a long day at the office buying, selling, trading, and crushing smaller corporations with hostile takeovers so I could put bread on our table, you good for nothing ingrate!”

 

“Eh?” Kensuke™ asked, studying the spoon, confused. “Wait, you mean I’m not a good husband, Eiko?”

 

“It’s Biiko™, and no! You never attend to my needs. With you, it’s always me, me, me!” Biiko™ scolded. “That’s why I’m cheating on you with the mailman.”

 

Kensuke™’s plastic jaw sagged. “Err… cheating on me? You know about that stuff?”

 

“Well, of course! In soap operas, whenever the wife wants revenge on her deadbeat husband, she cheats,” Biiko™ explained, smoothing out her felt apron. “I don’t know what game she cheats at, but they always say she cheats. And I’m cheating! I sold all of your stuff for a modest sum and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

 

“Well, of course I am. I don’t have a room. But the couch is very comfortable,” Kensuke™ commented, smiling. “I don’t mind at all!”

 

Biiko™ groaned. “No, no! Not you, Mallory-oniichan, Kensuke™,  Kensuke™! He’s on the couch!”

 

“Oh. Well, I don’t think Kensuke™ would mind either. After all, clearly Biiko™ is angry at him and it’s best to back off a bit and talk to her later to try and smooth things out, right?”

 

Pouting, Biiko™ sagged a bit in disappointment. “Mallory, that’s no fun! Couples on the soap operas are always fighting and plotting and stuff. C’mon, play along!”

 

“Right, right,” Kensuke™ agreed, shaking his arms loose and trying to get back into character. “Well, okay… hey! I work hard for this family too, honey! And I’m doing the best I can! And… and I’m a better husband than any mailman could be!”

 

The door flew off its hinges, as a burly, muscle-bound guy in camouflage and bandoliers loaded with ammo suitable for his heavy machine gun burst onto the scene.

 

“GRRRR!! I’m the MAILMAN!” Muscles Manslaughter™ shouted. “And I’m gonna kick your butt!”

 

A Kensuke™ shaped hole in the air formed as he zipped behind his wife to hide, pointing at the massive action figure in shock. “THAT’S the mailman!?”

 

“I don’t have a mailman action figure, they don’t make them,” Biiko™ noted while her husband was promptly manhandled by the man who cuckolded him. “Anyway, we’re leaving you! And here are legal papers entitling me to 50% of everything that you make in future years to support me, along with appropriate tax forms to include the nondeductible amounts on your annual return. Okay, honey?”

 

Kensuke™’s eyes rolled around funny after Muscles Manslaughter™ bounced his head off the floor for the sixth time. “Okay, honey, whatever you say,” he groggily replied.

 

The earth began to shake, as plastic furniture toppled over. Muscles Manslaughter™ fell on his side in mid heroic lantern jawed action pose.

 

“Wh-what’s that?!” Kensuke™ asked, scrabbling against a wall in fear.

 

Biiko™ stared in horror at the giant yellow eye staring in at her through the window. “Oh no! Very bad! Most terrible Mecha-Lizard King™ is attacking the city! We’re done for! I’ll use my emergency ejector seat. Goodbye forever, husband!”

 

“ROAR! ROAR!” Mecha-Lizard King™ roared in a very young girlish voice.

 

“W-wait! Take me with you! I don’t want to die!” Kensuke™ shouted, waving his arms in protest.

 

Biiko™ buckled her pretty pink seat belt, pulling a lever to open the house’s skylight. “You should have thought of that before you kept leaving the toilet seat up. Bye!”

 

With a sound of roaring rockets, she was gone. The walls crumbled and shook, and Kensuke™ screamed in absolute terror as the giant green scaled foot came crushing down on him…

 

 

 

“But since Biiko™ got Kensuke™ to take out monster accident insurance the prior fiscal year, the premiums paid out with double indemnity and she lived happily ever after!” Eiko declared, hugging her Biiko™ dolly while Kensuke™’s legs stuck out under the ruined doll house. “The end. Wai! I love a happy ending.”

 

“…….” Mallory spoke, staring at the gruesome fate his poor avatar met.

 

“Don’t worry, oniichan! I’m gonna be getting a new dollhouse next week anyway. That was a lot of fun! Don’t you think so?”

 

“…………..” Mallory continued.

 

Eiko cocked her head, peering at him curiously. “Oniichan?”

 

“Huh–? Oh, ah, yes?”

 

“I want you to make Eiko-chan a promise,” she said, suddenly serious.  “You’ll do that, right?”

 

“Err… I think it depends on what the promise is,” he replied, recalling the EULA and even the hot dog incident. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me, fool me three times–

 

“You’ll be a better husband than that to Meiko-oneechan, right?”

 

–he fell over.

 

“Ha ha ha! Oh, Eiko, you’re so cute when you’re joking around!!!” he exclaimed after popping to his feet and gathering up the strewn laundry at subsonic speeds. “Well, it was very fun but I have to go study for the REC test now! So much to do, so much to do!”

 

“Hey, our hour isn’t done yet!” Eiko complained.

 

“I had a lot of fun! Put it on my tab, I’ll play with you another time!” Mallory replied 0.3 seconds before he was out the door.

 

The young Mirai sister pouted. He hadn’t said if he promised or not…

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    • Lynci
    • September 16th, 2012

    Likey. I like the name too. Need to read the first two chapters though.

    Like

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