Not Again

With Frankie’s stickman pinned so perfectly, all Bozo had to do was wait for the raccoon to call out the final number that would spell his victory and end this brief annoyance in an already terrible week.

Frankie on the other hand was doing everything she could to win, her and her sister’s dreams on her hands, all depending on this tiny, fleeting second.

Nothing she’d tried before would work a second time, and no amount of cheap tricks could save her. In this moment, all she had was her wits, and her desperation.

The speaker above her, from which every previous Ron Raccoon line had called out from, turned on again.

Frankie bit her tongue, focusing everything on her little wrestler as she turned his whole body into a ball.

One thing she had not previously considered was the sheer flexibility of her design. Not only could the margin for error provided let her change it, but it’s anatomy alone allowed for even more contortion. By folding all of the limbs into the head- a difficult thing to imagine, but not impossible, she could shrink the stickman to less than half his size.

The speaker turned off. Frankie rolled safely out of Mini-Bozo’s grasp.

Try paying attention for once, idiot.

Bozo didn’t see until it was too late. Frankie’s fighter unfolded right back out into his full form while his was still lying lazily on the ground like the pig his creator was.

“Wait, no!”

“Too late!”

She turned her fighter’s legs to needles too, and leaped to land them all into his back.

Bozo made his warrior stand, reaching at his back to pry out the giant thorn that was Frankie’s stickman jutting out of it- but his arms were too short and his torso was too big, in a way that no amount of fudging the details could remedy.

“What now, Bozo? Gonna throw yourself off the ring, or just give up normally?!”

“I’m not finished!”

Bozo let his fighter lose balance, falling back-first towards the ground. He knew she couldn’t survive a second pin no matter how hard she tried.

But just before he could slam the stickman onto the ground, his heart sunk.

Frankie grinned.

Jumping from his back, she let him fall. Instead of pinning him, however, she knew her meager strength was more suited to a different kind of annihilation.

She stabbed her hands into the ring, and her legs into his head.

“No- no- What are you doing-“

“Maximum leverage, asshole. Get ready to pay up.”

Frankie’s heart was racing as she sent him flying high out of the arena, disappearing as he left the play field entirely.

The speaker chimed on.

“Player One wins!” Ron chimed in her honor.

She couldn’t help but squeal in pride as she utterly destroyed Bozo single-handedly, even if it was in a silly park attraction.

But Bozo wasn’t angry anymore. Or afraid.

Bozo was confused- very confused- as to why this girl seemed so goddamn familiar to him.

She looked back up at him, her expecting, smug brown eyes almost distracting him from it- that same desperation he had witnessed not seven days ago.

He handed over her earnings, disappointed at their loss, but… could it be? He wondered.

“We did it…” Frankie thought aloud to herself, just under her breath as she thanked her sister’s encouragement.

His eyes widened.