That’s not a spoon!

Ellen flicked on the lights of her parents’ room. She knew the space so well that she didn’t need the lights for vision and was instead using it to keep at bay those monsters that like to hide in the dark. Tonight, Ellen was the only monster allowed to play.

She was up to no good again, sneaking around while her parents were out, looking to reclaim what was truly hers. She rifled through her dad’s sock drawer, a common hiding spot for her toys confiscated in the previous days, sometimes weeks before. On this particular evening, the prize was a fluffy red Furby toy that she’d lost because she ‘kept throwing it at Tabitha,’ her younger sister despite her insistence that they were merely playing a game of catch. Unfortunately, the sock drawer was stuffed with socks tonight. She went for the next drawer in the bureau, rummaging through her daddy’s underwear only to come up again empty handed. The drawer squealed as Ellen pushed it closed and she froze in place, listening for the wah of the television from the other room.

“What’s your sister doing in there?” The babysitter could be heard asking Tabitha. Ellen tensed.

“She’s probably pooping. Ellen loves taking long poops and listening to Brittney Spears on the toilet.” Tabitha laughed and then snorted. Ellen cursed under her breath but couldn’t helped smile because her sister didn’t sell her out. Either way, the diversion was effective because the babysitter seemed to believe her. Ellen’s hand hit something hard that felt out of place in her mother’s underwear drawer and she grabbed it.

It was a slender red stick that looked like a magic wand for computers or a robot’s missing arm or a fully extended tube of her mother’s lipstick. Maybe it was a toy that she forgot about because her parents always gave her so many toys that it was hard for her to keep track of them all or maybe it was one of Tabby’s toys that she never told her about and if so then Tabby was going to be so surprised when Ellen showed her later tonight after the babysitter leaves. The toy buzzed when Ellen pressed the little round red button on it and pulsed in her hand and she liked it so she put it in her pocket where she could feel the friendly buzz against her thigh.

Ellen clicked the button again and the pulses became non-stop vibration. Ellen put it to her chin and it shook her whole head. She liked it but decided it was for the better to leave it, lest her parents find out. She was determined to find what what she came for. Next she found a glass jar that labelled ’Body Chocolate.

She couldn’t resist dipping a finger in once she saw that someone had already eaten most of it. It wasn’t as good as she thought it would be but she still licked a second fingerful of it before putting it back where she found it. She didn’t want to be caught snacking of her parents snacks especially because she knew how mad her parents would get if they caught her sneaking dessert.

“Ellen, come in here,” The babysitter yelled, “Dinner’s ready.”

Ellen wiped her fingerprints off the silver handle and lumbered downstairs into the kitchen. It was her favorite room because it had all her favorite things in it, like the and TV and refrigerator and microwave. Her room only had a bed and some windows and her clothes. The babysitter, a fat man with a funny accent and a name she couldn’t pronounce greeted her and beckoned to a plate loaded with a chicken and rice concoction onto the plate next to where Tabby was sitting. She was eating out of a ladle, smirking at me with her eyes.

“Tabby, you have to have manners.” Ellen said.

“I’m avant garde,” said Tabby as she shoveled the masala into her mouth.

“You’re not event grade.” Ellen smirked.

“Hey, Ellen, why don’t you eat before it gets cold?” said the babysitter.

“Okay, Huge Money, can I have a ladle, please?”

Huge Money was Ellen’s nickname for him. At first it bothered him but she thought it’d grown on him. He placed a fork in front of her.

“I don’t want a fork, Huge Money. I want a ladle.”

“It won’t be avant garde anymore.” Tabby chimed in.

“Why not?”

“Avant Garde means you’re the first to do something.”

“You think you’re the first person to eat with a ladle?”

“In this family.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Have you ever eaten rice with a ladle?”

Ellen curls her fist in rage, “Alright, Tabby, you want avant grade? I’ll be right back” and she stomped out of her favorite room.

“Why’d you have to do that, Tabby?” Ellen heard Huge Money ask. She didn’t like his tired tone. She was going to prove them all wrong.

“I embody art. I intend to produce a reaction.” her sister responded smartly.

“Can’t your purpose not to be bothering your sister?”

“Art can’t choose its purpose. It has to be interpreted by the viewer. Ah, here she is.”

Ellen stomped back into the room with the jar of chocolate and the magic wand, and began to scoop chocolate onto her food.

“Ellen, what are you doing? What is that?” Huge Money asked with some real concern in his saucer eyes like the time Tabby discovered the blender.

“I found it in my mom’s closet. Pretty avant grade, eh?”

“I’d say,” Tabby said, “I don’t even know what it is.”

“It’s very avant garde,” Huge Money eked out, “but not for you. Let’s wash that off and put it back.”

“What’s that, Huge Money?” Tabby asked.

“It’s for mommy and daddy’s secret chocolate snacks and I’m having my dessert with my dinner which has never been done before. Now watch this, this is the best part, the grand finale,” Ellen answered, loading the wand with chocolate.

Huge Money moaned with his hands over his face, peeking out from between his chubby fingers as Ellen scooped chocolate and rice into her mouth with a vibrating dildo.

“How’s that?” Ellen said after finally taking it out of her face.

“Let me try.” Tabby demanded.

“No. If you tried then it wouldn’t be avant garde.” Ellen snarked back.

“I don’t care if it’s avant garde I want to try!” Tabby squealed like the whiny third grader Ellen knew she was.

“Ellen, please, just give that to me. Okay? This is your mom’s and you really shouldn’t be using it as you please.” Huge Money reached for Ellen’s arm.

“No!” Ellen screamed and ran, sticking the vibrator in her mouth. “You can’t make me,” she said.

“Please, Ellen, I’m begging you. Put it back. Please your mother will be home soon,” said Huge Money.

“No they won’t, they went to see a movie!” Ellen spat.

Click. The front door lock turned, swung open, Mister and Misses Hineman flew in the door and raced to embrace their children, “Oh my god. I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay.” They cradled Tabby and showered her in kisses. Misses Hineman looked up at Huge Money, “Somebody opened fire in the theater next to ours. We thought we were never going to see you again. We love you so much.”

Huge Money stares in disbelief, “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Mister Hineman sees Ellen, he squints his eyes.

“What is that in Ellen’s mouth? Ellen, what do you have in your mouth?”

“I found your special toy.” Ellen smiles proudly with the chocolatey vibrator between her teeth.

“Oh my god. Ellen has your vibrator in her mouth.”

“Ellen!” Misses Hineman yelled.

“I’m avant garde! Art produces reaction!” Ellen shrieked and ran out of the room, laughing like she imagined a murderer might have chasing down a helpless victim.

“Ujaemurani,” Mister Hineman said to the babysitter, “Let me pay you, here.”

He counted out a handful of bills and handed it to the big man, eyes bulging, full of shock and embarrassment as Miss Hineman chased after Ellen.

“That’s okay, Mister Hineman. This is more than usual. Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Thank you.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you next time.” Huge Money thanked Mister Hineman as he was swept out the door as quickly and politely as Mister Hineman could manage. The door shut quickly behind him.

Huge Money didn’t have time to waste, he has an alibi that would last until nine-thirty before anyone would get specific. His phone was already up to his ear. “Hey, baby, I got off early. Let’s meet up. No, of course she doesn't know. See you soon. Bye.”