By Joshua Arnold

ELEPHANT: He wound me up and sent me walking off the table. The gear that spins my tail is broken!

DINOSAUR: His name's Chad. Yesterday he mummified Hippo in wet napkins. Today's Tuesday, right? He'll order a bowl of red beans and rice, a mocha latte, and mutilate someone else.

CYCLOPS: He stole my left ear, and Illiana says she can't order a new one.

DRACULA: What if someone stole his left ear? That'd teach him.

BARBIE: Has anyone seen my mascara?

DINOSAUR: Chad probably stole it.

CYCLOPS: Here he comes. Look at the way he walks! Like he owns the place.

ELEPHANT: He'll get a booth in the corner, listen to the open-mic people, and send me off the table again.

DRACULA: Look, he's with someone this time.

DINOSAUR: She's in for a surprise.

CYCLOPS: I wish Illiana would kick him out. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. She doesn't like him. We don't like him.

DINOSAUR: He keeps us in business. He spends a fortune on coffee every week.

ELEPHANT: Did you know he asked Illiana to dinner? He wanted to take her to Olivia's. I hear it's a pretty nice place.

CYCLOPS: No, but he always stares at her. I'm not really surprised.

BARBIE: I can't find my comb either. My whole purse is gone!

DRACULA: You just noticed?

BARBIE: I've been thinking about other things.

DRACULA: Like what?

BARBIE: Ken. Illiana threw him away!

DRACULA: I'm available.

BARBIE: No way. I don't date vampires.

DRACULA: The King of Vampires.

BARBIE: Not even the King of Vampires.

DRACULA: Hmm, it's not like I can drink your blood. There's nothing inside you but plastic and air.

BARBIE: That's true. But if I can't find my purse, it doesn't matter anyway. I can't keep working here without my accessories.

DRACULA: Get over it; you look fine. Your mascara is painted on your face anyway.

BARBIE: That's not important. I need my purse. It came with me. It's part of me.

DINOSAUR: Just hope Chad doesn't pick you. Then you'll be missing more than just your purse.

* * * * * * * *

CHAD: I know how you'll react to any given situation. I know what you'll say before you say it.

SNOWFLAKE: [Laughs] You still surprise me.

CHAD: It just means I know you really well. And I like what I know.

SNOWFLAKE: Thanks.

CHAD: I like this place. They have pretty good Cajun food.

SNOWFLAKE: Hey, what's Dracula for?

CHAD: Instead of a number, they give you these crazy little plastic figurines.

SNOWFLAKE: Oh. He doesn't look very happy.

CHAD: He's probably frustrated he can't drink anyone's blood.

SNOWFLAKE: We should cheer him up.

CHAD: He's not gonna drink my blood. But check this out. His head comes off! Now he isn't sad anymore. How can you be sad if you can't frown?

SNOWFLAKE: Put his head back. I don't think you're cheering him up any.

CHAD: Why? It doesn't matter. They'll go buy a new Dracula. He's old, worn, sticky, and ready to retire.

SNOWFLAKE: I guess. How was work today?

CHAD: Ok. They wanted me to rank the top ten economy hotels around town. Yesterday I had to rank the top ten breakfast burritos, and the day before that I had to rank the top ten PC games.

SNOWFLAKE: Not too bad.

CHAD: No, not too bad. Not like the rankings matter. I work for the Daily Alibi, not the New York Times. All I do is give Johnson a list, and he does the rest.

SNOWFLAKE: But people do care about those rankings. All I did today was answer the phone. "Hello! Thank you for calling Zirtec. My name is Snowflake Flower, and how may I help you?"

CHAD: Hey, I have a story to tell you.

SNOWFLAKE: What?

CHAD: You know that little Goth girl? The one who always sits outside Highland High School with the plaid backpack? She sits there in the morning, she sits there at lunch, and she sits there for two hours after school. Have you seen her?

SNOWFLAKE: Yeah.

CHAD: Yesterday she was sitting there, and I drove by. I stopped and got out of my car. She was engrossed in a book and didn't see me. I walked up to her and snatched the book away. Of all things, it was a copy of Invisible Life by Lynn Harris. I flipped through it, tore half the pages out, and threw it on the ground. She just sat there and didn't say anything. What a little dyke! Nothing but useless white trash.

SNOWFLAKE: You shouldn't have done that.

CHAD: Why not?

SNOWFLAKE: Be quiet, Nicole's about to read.

CHAD: I don't like Nicole's poetry, and besides that she's a bitch.

SNOWFLAKE: We've been friends ten years. Just for the record, she doesn't like you either.

NICOLE:
The windows are dark.
I can't see inside.
Crystals of snow
float through the air.
The trees whisper.
I feel the coldness
on my hands and feet.
You are inside.
Inside with her.
Dribbling maple syrup
across her thighs.
There is a cherry
on her belly button.
Outside the snow falls.
The trees whisper
and I feel cold.

* * * * * * * *

ELEPHANT: Illiana's gonna throw you away.

DRACULA: No she won't. I've been working here five years.

ELEPHANT: You lost your head!

DRACULA: Chad took it. Illiana knows he took it, and she'll have sympathy. Maybe I'll get retired.

ELEPHANT: To the dumpster.

CYCLOPS: He still has my ear.

ELEPHANT: I don't think he's gonna give it back. He's not going to give anything back. Instead of collecting plastic figurines, he collects fragments of plastic figurines.

DRACULA: The weird thing is that I can still see through my eyes. I mean it's like I still have a head. Only it's in his pocket right now, and my body is here. I'm in both places at once.

CYCLOPS: So what do you see? Where is he?

DRACULA: He's in a car. That girl is driving, the one who was with him last time. Snowflake Flower. He rented a cabin in the Jemez Mountains, and they're going to spend the weekend there.

BARBIE: How romantic.

DRACULA: Whatever. I'll bite him and drink his blood.

ELEPHANT: He'll throw your head out the window.

CYCLOPS: You can't bite him. Your mouth doesn't have a hinge. Besides, your fangs are made of plastic.

DRACULA: I'll find a way.

ELEPHANT: Yeah right. Just stay in his pocket and see what happens. If you do anything, you'll just end up more screwed than you already are.

DRACULA: Don't worry, I'll find a way to get my head back. Cyclops' ear and Barbie's purse are in here with me. I'll find a way to get everything back.

BARBIE: I hope so. I need my mascara!

DRACULA: They're at the cabin now. Chad's been talking about how much he hates Nicole's poetry. He says it's a bunch of ‘New Age crap.'

CYCLOPS: I like Nicole; she talks to me. I like her poetry too.

ELEPHANT: Whatever. Just focus on getting your head back.

DRACULA: Maybe you guys could rescue me. He'll probably keep my head in his pocket until next week.

CYCLOPS: Maybe.

DRACULA: Hmm, this is interesting. There's a note in his pocket too. "Call me when you've got another photo. My editor really liked the last one. Experiment with some similar poses. I think you could make the top ten this year." Signed Jason, American Nude.

CYCLOPS: I wonder what that means?

ELEPHANT: It's raining, it's pouring, and the fat man is snoring. It's raining, it's pouring, and I have a riddle. What's sad and has a broken tail?

* * * * * * * *

CHAD: I can't get over how beautiful you are. How'd you get so beautiful?

SNOWFLAKE: Once upon a time there was an old man. He was responsible for making the wind blow. Whenever he came across a snowstorm, he would blow as hard as he could and keep the snow from touching the ground. In the age before time, snowstorms were different. Each time a snowflake touched the ground, a new person was born into the world. One day, a snowflake didn't quite make it to the ground. Instead, it landed on a rose blossom. In fact, it landed on the last rose blossom anywhere in the frozen world. At that instant, my soul was created. My beauty comes from the unique way in which I came into existence. Or, at least that's what my mother said.

CHAD: A personal creation story?

SNOWFLAKE: It's just a legend, but I like it. So what's the jar of maple syrup for?

CHAD: I'm gonna take Nicole's advice.

SNOWFLAKE: [Laughs] That'd be a first. I thought you didn't like her.

CHAD: She has a few good ideas.

SNOWFLAKE: A camera, rope, and maple syrup. Interesting.

CHAD: I'm making a scrapbook. Here, take a look. It contains pictures of every woman I've dated since 1987.

SNOWFLAKE: [Flips through the scrapbook] Why?

CHAD: Memories. I like to collect traces of the women in my life. Otherwise I wouldn't remember most of them. Maybe someday I'll create a giant collage.

SNOWFLAKE: I don't want my picture taken. Especially not if I have to get undressed and pose like those other women.

CHAD: Don't worry. I don't use these photos for commercial stuff. They stay here in my scrapbook, and no one sees them but me.

SNOWFLAKE: And the women you date.

CHAD: It's not a big deal, and I'm asking you as a friend. We'll get settled in, and then I'll take your picture. Think of the rope and the maple syrup as props. After I'm finished, we'll go for a walk. It's a beautiful afternoon.

SNOWFLAKE: I don't think so. No pictures.

CHAD: If you don't let me take your picture, I'll…ouch! I think something bit my leg. There's something in my pants.

SNOWFLAKE: Kill it.

Chad reaches into his pocket and removes Dracula's head.

SNOWFLAKE: What in the hell is that?

CHAD: It's Dracula's head. From the café, remember?

SNOWFLAKE: He's got a pink purse and a green ear. And he's covered in blood.

CHAD: My blood!

DRACULA: If you're smart, you'll ditch him and leave. Chad's a pornographer and an asshole. Read the note that was in his pocket. It's on the ground by your left foot.

CHAD: What the hell?

DRACULA: He'll send your picture to American Nude. Every year they make a list of the top ten pornographers in the country.

SNOWFLAKE: [Reads the note] Nicole was right. About you, Chad. Imagine that! She said you had ulterior motives. I can't believe you'd steal an image of my body, and then have the audacity to sell it to someone else. To advance your career! To make it onto a top ten list.

CHAD: He's lying. Forget the pictures. We'll spend a nice, romantic weekend up here with absolutely no pictures. No pictures!

SNOWFLAKE: [Picks up Dracula's head] I don't think so. You're a liar. For every lie someone tells, an angel loses its wings. You'd better call a cab, or you'll be stuck here forever.

CHAD: Bitch.

DRACULA: I have a personal creation story too. There's a large toy factory somewhere in New York City. In that factory, a young Hispanic woman painted my face and clothes. She signed her initials on my right leg, and ever since then I've been immortal. Her paintbrush made me what I am. She had the courtesy to lend me some of her beauty. I dedicate this good deed to her, because she deserves to be remembered. I'm whole again, and my friends are whole again too. I could use some more blood though.