Mr. Happy & The Revenge of the Jilted Valentine Balloon.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

This V-Day - like many other men, I got my lady some nice V-Day gifts.

I got her tix to Tom Petty with Steve Windwood later on this year, (they are two of our favorites.) I got her a nice card with a sweet note written inside.
I got her chocolate AND flowers. She got me a new Oilers Jersey and a nice card. My girl ROCKS!

I also got her something else. Something relatively inexpensive and fun.

Or so I thought.

I got her a metallic helium ballon with a smiley face and ribbon for arms and legs, with paper hands and feet - Similiar to this one.
I named him “Mr. Happy”.

She was at work when I brought Mr. Happy home. Instantly upon his arrival, the cats disappeared at warp 9 to go hide in the basement. Cats can smell evil.

I left Mr. Happy at the front entry and went and picked her up at the train station.
I pictured her opening the door and being very touched and amused at the gift balloon. Instead - she opened the door - was face to face with him - and let out scream that shocked me and I’m sure the whole neighbourhood.

“YOU SCARED THE FUCK OUT OF ME!” She hollered, clutching her hands over her mouth in stunned disbeleif. “Jeeeeeeeeeeze - It’s … um… nice hun, thank you.”

She was still gasping as she hung her jacket in the closet. As she was closing the door she casually tucked Mr. Happy in the closet.

I was mildly hurt. “Awwwww - You don’t like him?” I ask with a fake tear.-

She paused, as one does when they properly try to sugar coat a response. She smiled and said, Ït’s great hun, but to be honest, he looks kind of evil."

I act indignant and stand Mr. Happy on the kitchen table. The cats, as always, raced upstairs to greet her when they heard her voice. Until they spotted Mr. Happy.

Our stairwell is three cat lanes wide. When three cats try to U-turn on a staircase in complete panic, it’s not good. The three-cat furball pile-up was not pretty to watch.

“OMG - That thing is freaking out the cats, can you take it away please. It gives me the creeps, really.” She pleads with me.

I take the obviously dejected Mr Happy upstairs to the office room closet.

I thought it was over, but no. The next morning, I am jolted awake by another blood curdling scream. Apparantly she was getting a clean robe from the office closet in the dark when Mr. Happy attacked her. The ribbon hooked her arm and she tore a leg off of Mr. Happy in the ensuing struggle.

“Dammit I hate this thing!” she mutters to me as I am still wondering WTF happened.

“Take this f-ing thing downstair NOW!” She wasn’t kidding, I felt it.

So I did. I put him in what I thought to be a safe place so the devil ballon wouldn’t scare the cats. I put him in the dryer.

A few hours later I was outside scraping the driveway when I heard the next scream. I run in the house, and find her in a trembling with anger.

“You bastard! - Why the HELL did you put him in the dryer?”

I think quickly. “So it wouldn’t scare the cats.” I offer.

It worked. I got to live.

I say to her, “OK Hun - I’ll take this demon to the garage and put him in the garbage.”

She is rattled, but the solution seemed to be to her liking.

She went for a nap and things seem to be calming down now.

So - Should I feel guilty that I didn’t put Mr. Happy in the garage like I said I was going to do?

Probably.

I wonder what she is going to do when she finds Mr. Happy hiding behind the shower curtain in her bathroom.

It’s been fun knowing y’all, because you know I am dead for this one.
.

2

snicker

When’s the funeral? You are dead meat.

3

balloons are a world of fun for everyone.

i sense a psycho moment…

4

You’re a dead man. But I may hear the screams in Tucson when she finds it.

I hope you live long enough to describe her reaction because this one had me giggling.

5

You are aware that divorce can be more painful (and expensive) than simply being murdered, right? :wink:

But, all in all, a rollicking good OP. :smiley:

6

I can’t help but provide this other, classic, ballon link, in honor of the memory of meek.

http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?t=160851&highlight=Horror

7

Excellent OP.

8

baker, i was thinking of that very thread.

9

Shhhhhhhhhh!

Mr. Happy is still waiting in ambush.

For bonus fun, I had taped what’s left of his little paper hand to the shower curtain edge, stategically placed at eye level - so he’ll lunge at her when she pulls back the curtain to turn on the taps.

However, I doubt if she’ll notice him until tomorrow morning when she goes to shower.

But…

I almost burst out laughing when she woke from her nap.

She asked me almost immediately where it was. I told her that I deflated him and put him in with the “cat litter” garbage bag in the garage. I know she’ll NEVER check to see if it’s in there.

As for the comments, thank you for the kind thoughts in the face of my ultimate demise.
As for the Scylla comparisons, thanks but not even close. Scylla is a legend. He’s got wayyyyyy better writing skills than me.

I thought of that thread before I posted this. It’s a classic.

And now we wait…

[sub]hehehehehehe[/sub]
.

10

Sheer malevolence. How do you sleep at night?

11

I’ll probably be sleeping alone after tonight. :smiley:

12

Mr. Happy may meet his death by nail file.

Your own Mr. Happy could be next.

:slight_smile:

13

meek, when the memorial service happens, where do we send the condolance balloons?

14

Just release them. They’ll find their way to my gf.

Especially after what she does to Mr. Happy. :smiley:

15

Oooh, I can’t help it but I’m waiting with bated breath for this one…

16

Not necessarily a bad thing, given that after a while she’ll not smell too good due to her new-found fear of entering showers or baths.

17

Hm, we last heard from Meek over 12 hours ago. Something tells me he’s locked out of the house with no internet access at the moment.

18

Always the optimist, aren’t you? :wink:

19

Well I wake up this morning and make the coffee and walk out to snag a paper and she was still sleeping when I got back. I wait at the kitchen table for the inevitable.

Nothing. Like waiting for the toaster to pop, you know it’s coming, but it still startles you when it does. The anticipation of the scream was killing me. I sip my coffee, scan the headlines and wait, chuckling to myself.

Nothing. Twenty minutes later there is a stir from the bedroom. I hear her feet hit the hardwood floor and move down to the bathroom lino.

I brace for the impact.

Nothing. Three or four excruciating minutes pass while I wait. Again nothing.

I hear the water in the shower go on. No response whatsoever. Not a peep.

WTF??? :confused:

I hear the water flow pattern change so I know she’s now in the shower. I sneak upstairs to see what happened to Mr. Happy. I expected to see a deflated carcass strewn in the doorway. Nothing. I peek in the bathroom. Nothing. No ribbon parts, paper bits or anything resembling the corpse of Mr. Happy.

I scan the bedroom. Nope not a sign of him. I check under the bed, in the closets, I open drawers and search like a madman. Mr. Happy is… MISSING!

I’m assuming she killed him and disposed of the body. But, I checked all the garbage cans in all the rooms. I was determined to find out what happened to him.

She was now getting out of the shower and I raced back to the kitchen table to act as if everything was normal. She took forever to come downstairs. She acted completely normal and said nothing about it as she joined me for a coffee at the table.

Now, I know she had found him at some point, but I can’t ask her about it. After all, I told her it was in the garbage. I wasn’t ready to admit to the crime. I thought about blaming the cats, but she knew they were never going to get anywhere near that thing.

So now it’s a standoff. I can’t ask about it, and she isn’t taking about it.
I really have no clue what she did with him.

I’m a bit nervous. I suspect she is up to something. :dubious:

I have to find him.
.

20

:smiley: That’s hilarious!! Talk about a backfired plan!

I would suggest sleeping with one eye open tonight.