Will Ned the Narwhal retrieve answers or just the same anonymous identities as Nobody? Will he succeed in such plans, to expose these two authors to the world?
“Good morning, Spinette,” Ned the Narwhal greeted. “Can you step aside for a few questions?”
“Yes,” I agreed, stepping aside.
“Why did you step away?” Ned asked.
“That was only one question,” I said, distractedly, making eye contact with an adorable spider. “I was expecting more questions to come this way, after being so polite. Arachnid would be proud of me after telling me to mind my manners.”
“Oh!” Ned finally asked some more, blinking twice in surprise. “How is life with your very, very, very private neighbor?”
“I enjoy her company, as I do yours,” I replied. “It is fun to see her turn back from her spider form. The way the spider hairs crawl back to normal toes is mesmerizing.”
Ned raised an eyebrow. “Are you human?”
“I honestly can’t say for sure.”
He gave me another question: “How do you think Arachnid types on her keyboard? With two hands, or eight legs?”
“We don’t type. We appreciate old school.” Suddenly, I had an idea. A beautiful idea that would certainly involve Ned. I grinned, somewhat evilly.
“Uh… How old are you?”
“I’m—” I stopped myself. “How old are you?”
“22 years,” Ned’s eyes squirmed around the room, frantic. Was the way I was looking at him that scary?
“How are your trips to Unicornia?” I asked, questions piling up on one another. “Who is your greatest enemy? What topping do you like on your pizza?”
Ned backed away into a corner. “The trips aren’t great; Edna because she cursed me; and mushrooms.”
“Yes. Perfect.” I licked my lips.
“What are you saying that for?” Ned was shivering in that corner.
“I always wondered what it would be like, ” I smiled widely, grabbing his fins, “to have you for dinner, Ned.”
Arachnid came into my house, covered in black soot.
“Arachnid!” I hugged her as she squirmed away, not wanting associate with me. “Why are you covered in black stuff?”
“I ran into Santa on my way here. He was on summer vacation,” she said sarcastically, wiping herself off on my carpet. “I came here to clean myself, since I don’t want this dirt all over my house.”
I know what she’d been doing, of course. She was cleaning her chimney which I recently trashed by pouring glitter down it. It is a long story.
“Do you want some dinner?” I asked.
“No.” She frowned.
“Okay, ” I took her hand and led her to my dining room, knives glinting on the walls. “I need your help for something too.” Once she saw what it was, she turned to run away, but I held her stiffly by the neck.
Ned was sitting there on the table, eating some mushroom pizza. “Hi.”
“Hello,” I waggled my thumbs, shyly.
“I DON’T WANT TO EAT DINNER WITH A FAT NARWHAL!” Arachnid screamed, trying to struggle out of my grip.
“Shhh…,” I whispered, “We need to write this character out of our house! You broke my computer yesterday, so I need you to write him away!”
“Then why didn’t you say so?” she whisper-shouted, taking out her laptop. Instantly, she typed a lousy conclusion to this interview.
Then the narwhal swam away, magically forgetting everything that happened in that soot-covered house. THE END.
Ned started swimming away, magically forgetting everything. But I wanted to do more.
“This is one thing you shouldn’t forget,” I neared him.
“What? Who are you?” he asked, disoriented.
I licked his shiny blue-white head, savoring the flavor upon my taste buds. “You taste nice, but for future reference, spice it up, okay?”
“WHAT WAS THAT? DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO MIND YOUR MANNERS?!” Arachnid shouted.
I watched as the narwhal goes into his bubble, floating like a fairy in the air, never to see us, his creators, ever again.