Dad's Lippy

• Rosie Yapp
• Short Story
• 2015

Dear Professor,

Its Ruffles,
Just got home.
Doc gave Pompom the laxatives again; the idiot refuses to use our toilet and got blocked up. Again.
Home life is so different now. New house.
You’re right- my parents are idiots. Dad refuses to stop wearing lipstick- he isn’t a real man. I can’t believe I didn’t realise before.

Its Pompom here.
Dad wears lippy everywhere; wouldn’t leave his room without it. He needs it like Gollum needs his ring; it’s his oxygen. Mum says it’s a confidence thing. I reckon he likes it just because it makes him pretty. I never thought twice about dads’ lipstick before Ruffles came home.
Ruffles never had a problem before, but now, after the board house, is like a crunchy cornflake that someone poured milk on. Soggy and not nice.
Ruffles has nightmares. “Leave me alone Professor!”- Screams fill my ears throughout a night that stops everything to listen.
The new house is smaller: Mum and Dads room, our room, a kitchen, a living room. It’s a box.
The loo is spooked. Dead man’s plumbing, or something like that.
No one believed me, until Ruffles came home.

Its Ruffles,
You know how Pompom won’t use our toilet? I can’t believe it, but now I won’t either.
After dinner, I went to the loo, and like, the dunny was almost waiting in anticipation...
I just shrugged it off, and went about my business, but as soon as I sat down, someone -or something- slapped my butt! I’m not even joking, I have a red mark on my butt! Then this voice, like water gurgling down a plughole, gabbled “and don’t come back!”
I’m not ashamed to say I ran like an emu with its tail alight.
I’m never going near that thing again. Besides, I have to look after Pompom.
The parents won’t believe me. They’re still mad at me for telling dad to man up.
I have no clue what is going on, but I know it is, like, really weird.

Pompom here,
The monster attacked Ruffles. It hasn’t attacked Mum or Dad. Ruffles is scared. Mum thinks were just being kids, but monsters aren’t a joke. One has invaded our loo.
Mum and Dad are worried about Ruffles. Behind their closed door they were talking about the school, and why Ruffles reckons only girls can be the pretty ones.
It wouldn’t be fair would it? If Ruffles was right.
I need to find a way to get rid of that monster.

Its Ruffles,
Pompom wants to try and get rid of the monster. That means we have to get it out -Pompom doesn’t realise this. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever even, like, experienced. A trip to the loo is a stroll along the Gallipoli frontline, I can’t even look at that door of hell without fear. I mean, not fear –of course I’m not scared- just… intelligently cautious.
Seriously, if Pompom is thinking about this, we have to use mum and dad. It doesn’t slap them for some reason, it must fear them. We –or Pompom- would have to find why it is scared of dad and mum and then use it to piss the monster off.

Pompom here,
I snuck into mum and dads room, looking for a weapon to fight the monster, like the movies. I ran into Dads lippy collection, he sometimes shares with mum. It was dark, and I knocked the bag over. Lipstick jumped out and went everywhere!
It scattered everywhere and made as much noise as it possibly could. All 50 tubes hid from me as I scurried to put them back, counting to make sure I had them all. After a heavily pregnant minute, waiting to see if I woke up the parents, I ended up with only 49 lippy tubes in the bag. I hadn’t the patience to look for the last one, so I grabbed Mums gun and left.

Its Ruffles,
Pompom snuck back into our room yesterday night. I’m not stupid; I knew what my little sibling was up to. Tonight is the night, it’ll be waiting there for us, and I’ll come. I’m ready.

Pompom here,
Glad to be alive.
Everything listened silently as I trembled towards the anticipating toilet. Silence… Five more steps… Still quiet… four more steps… dead… three more ste- BANG!
Thump-thump-thump- heart race, heart slow. Ruffles white face is met by Mums gun, cold metal bighting my quaky hand in the dark hallway.
What did I think I was doing, give the gun to Ruffles, calm down, its only Ruffles. The words flew over my head, and I ended up subconsciously parroting my older sibling.
Ruffles and I entered the lavatory room and were assaulted by a high pitched gurgle and flow of bubbles that escaped the dunny hole. The gun clinked as Ruffles aimed it at the conniving bubbles. It was only water.
I leaned in cautiously to get a better view, and suddenly this gnarled voice erupted from the pipes.
“Come no further human! I can smell it on you! Don’t you think you’ve harmed me enough?”
I ran into Ruffles as I scattered backwards.
I didn’t know what the monster was talking about. I just wanted to run.
Rendered speechless, Ruffles squeezed my shoulder, prompting me to negotiate. Spluttering words spewed from my mouth like jet force water.
“Hello, my name is Pompom, I’m in third grade and-”
“Why are you in our dunny?! Why are you attacking us?!” the now speaking Ruffles interrupted.
“Why are you invading and depositing waste in my home and burning me with the fumes of your ritual paints?” the monster demanded.
As it turns out, the monster has lived there for ages, is named Charlie, is severely allergic to the smell of lipstick and is very disturbed by human bathroom procedures. The deadly weapon, number 50 lippy tube was discovered in my pocket and immediately thrown out the window.
We chatted with Charlie like old friends once the abnormality of the situation wore off. Our only problem now is what to do next.

Its Ruffles,
The day after the extraordinary night, Charlie was revealed to the parents, who acted suspiciously cool…
Mum built another dunny for the humans outside, and lippy was banned from Charlie’s room. Pompom reckons Dad actually still looks beautiful without lipstick, and Mum says he always has been a Greek Adonis, he just didn’t know.
Professor, you would say my dad’s a wierdo, and that he should stick to the “traditional male role”, but like seriously, don’t cut off rights for people based on their gender, or on their form, he’s happy in his own skin, and maybe the reason you’re acting so high and mighty, is like, because you’re not happy in yours.
See you when school returns Ma’am.
From, Ruffles Isobel Wilde and Pompom Kate Wilde.