Regarding Theo’s Spunk

@beta

Huh. Look at that. There’s some kind of miniature, motorized Theo doll running around the bedroom, yipping and tossing cartwheels across the floor as he knocks over furniture and strews dirty laundry all over the place.

“You know,” I say, “the little dude’s a neat freak. He’s not going to like what you’re doing to his room.”

“It’s his own damned fault!” the doll screams, yanking the power cord of Theo’s Wii from the wall. “He’s kept me locked up all this time, he’s tried to keep me from expressing myself—but I will find expression!”

Excellent audio reproduction. It sounds just like Theo, but smaller, and without the subtle huskiness that’s sneaked into the little dude’s voice more recently.

The doll continues on his rampage until every inch of Zen has been buried beneath a layer of rumpled clothes, ruffled manga, and opened CD jewel cases. I’m hesitant to intervene, not only because I’m trying to give Theo his space after the whole New Eyes thing, but because it’s actually kind of mesmerizing to watch. That is, until the doll lunges for my laptop and hard drives—at which point I grab him by the scruff of the neck and toss him aside. He hits the floor with a soft thud.

“Hey!” he grunts, recovering, jumping to his feet and dusting himself off. “What gives?”

I fold my arms, step protectively in front of my gear. “Whatever you’ve got going on between you and Theo, that’s your business. But don’t you go messing with my stuff. Got that?”

The Theo doll blinks, scowls at me, runs over to where he’s dropped a pillow, and rips the tag off. Then he collapses onto the floor, arms and legs splayed. He looks both annoyed and satisfied at the same time.

I sit cross-legged beside him and survey the carnage. “Sorry for roughing you up, but that laptop is my only home. You fuck it and you end up fucking me.”

The Theo doll grunts. “You don’t seem all that surprised to see me.”

“I’m a disembodied programmer living entirely in cyberspace as a means of escaping the rigors of multiple sclerosis. I make it a point to keep an open mind.”

The doll grunts again.

“So, are you some kind of mechanized puppet?”

Puppet? Ha! I’m a physical manifestation of Theo’s subconscious, his ego, his competitive edge, his jism.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize he, er, had any of that.”

“Of course he does. All guys get their spunk once they hit twelve or thirteen. Theo may be trying his darnedest to hide his beneath the oversized T-shirts and unassuming, nerd-boy demeanor, but he’s got it, which means he secretly craves the same thing every other pubescent boy craves.”

“Which is?”

“To command and conquer! To kill something with his bare hands! To plow the living daylights out of some poor unsuspecting high school cheerleader until there’s nothing left but a shredded miniskirt and a pair of pompoms laying crumpled in a steaming, putrid pile!”

“TMI, dude.”

“It’s the truth. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I think for a moment. “Well, maybe you’re not wrong. But you’re kind of exaggerating.”

“Am I?” The Theo doll sits up, gives me a grave look. “You know what happens when you suppress your spunk?”

I shrug. “Bad headache?”

“You end up like Peter fucking Pan, wearing green tights and living in a fantasy land where you play with wooden swords all day because you’re too clueless to realize that Tinkerbell wants to fuck your brains out. Or Michael Jackson! Poor guy had an umbrella fetish and thought he was a kid till he was fifty years old, God rest! Theo’s halfway there. He sits in front of the computer all day, he does Yoga with his mom, he drinks green tea, he listens to Asia—he’s trying to act like some super-intelligent, super-spiritual guru! Meanwhile, his jism goes untapped, turning rancid in his pants. Well, I won’t stand idly by and watch that happen. I’ve got to do something about the situation. Somehow I’ve got to get the gang back together before it’s too late.”

Stupid question, but… “Theo’s in a gang?”

The Theo doll rolls his eyes. “Not a gang-gang. I’m talking about his new friends. Ernie, Eva, Jan.” He snorts. “At first I thought Ernie would be the one to pull Theo’s head out of his ass, what with his gas giant ability to draw others into orbit around him. I assumed he’d be the driving force that kept everyone together, but now that’s changed. Everyone’s on restriction—Theo’s the only one who can still upload or download. He may be the crux of the whole thing and he doesn’t even know it.”

“Dude,” I say, shaking my head. “Just what are we talking about here?”

“The certain specific chain of events that will ultimately lead to the ripening of Theo’s spunk!”

“Again, TMI—”

“Ugh! If all you’re going to do is ask idiotic questions and spout clichéd abbreviations…” The Theo doll waves his hand dismissively at me, gets up and toddles toward the bedroom door. “Give me bus fare.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“For a ride.”

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jesse

Book designer and formatter based in southern California. Supreme overlord of the SuperMegaNet pseudoverse.