“Umm… hello?”
I pushed the big garage door open a crack, letting the sunlight wash over the workbenches and tools. I peered around blindly, dazzled by the transition from daylight to the dim interior.
“Hi, jarbabyj?”
The sounds of clanking metal and heavy breathing came from under a large shape under a tarp. A voice, rough and unmistakeably feminine, followed. “Somebody there?”
“Yeah. It’s me, MrVisible. They told me up at the house that you’d be working in here…”
The voice from beneath the tarp sounded delighted. “Oh, okay, yeah. Hang on.”
The tarp brushed aside, and jarbabyj rolled gracefully out from beneath it. She was everything I’d imagined her to be, but better. And then some. She stuck out a hand, but before I reached for it, she glanced down, and wiped it on her jumpsuit. “Sorry,” she said, “you don’t want that stuff on you.”
“Um, yeah,” I said. “So, what’re you doing here, anyway?”
“It’s a project I’ve been working on. Here, take a look.” She turned, and whipped the tarp aside. “What do you think?”
“Nice. I like what you’ve done with it.”
“Hey, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now. Mind helping me out with it for a while, then we can go up to the house and hang out?”
“Sure, sounds good.” I replied. “I’ve not good with these, much. What can I do?”
“For starters,” said jarbabyj, already half-immersed in her work again, “you can hand me that asshammer behind you.”
“The… what?”
“Asshammer. Behind you, on the shelf. Next to the cockwrench.”
I turned around, and looked over a pile of assorted tools, none of which I was very familiar with. “Is this it?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I handed her the ungainly, yet oddly fascinating tool. She put it to use dextrously, and I marvelled at her skill. One by one, she removed a few oddly-shaped parts.
“I could use something to keep these in… can you hand me that titsack?” She asked, brushing her hair off her forehead.
That one was easy to spot. “Here ya go. Hey, what are those, anyway?” I asked, as she tossed the strangely-shaped little things into the bag.
“Clitnibblers. They’re always a bitch to get out of there.”
“I can see that.”
She pulled a plate off another assembly, and poked inside it a bit. “Now I can clean this off with the twatbrush, and see what I’m up against.”
Even I could see the problem once the assembly had been cleaned out. Choadamuckers. A bunch of them, gumming up the works. Personally, I’d have given up right there, but jarbabyj seemed unperturbed by the problem. She even whistled a bit as she went to work, shitknife and titwrench moving with practiced ease in the dim light.
“Where’d you learn to do all of this?” I asked.
“Oh, I just got tired of being in control, but not knowing what was going on in the works.” She sighed as another choadamucker bit the dust. “You know, so many people just twiddle a shitknob here, work an assknob there, and never really get a dickleash on what’s under the hood. Bugs me.”
She started reassembling the piece, and without looking up, said, “You want to help clean up? I’ll be done here in a minute. The pussyshovel is over there…”
“Yeah, I got it.” I cleaned up the garage a bit while she finished up. Finally, work done, glowing with accomplishment, she ushered me out the door. “Hey, you in the mood for dinner?” She asked, “I’m making fuckchops…”
Just in case it’s not, and this is a cleverly concealed rant … Yeah! I hate that jarbabyj ! And her fuckchops too!
