“We’re too far away,” Fluff complained. “Let’s go down front.”
“No way. Up top is the best.” Puff hopped up and down on the seat back.
“If you two don’t calm down Jazz and Nick will never bring us again,” Irma shushed the bunny slippers.
“So these are moving pictures? How fascinating.” Phinneas, Irma’s ghostly beau circa 1851, peered nearsightedly at the large screen where random questions rolled across the white surface. “What’s a matrix?”
“This is the last time I spend a week with you guys,” Horace grumbled, slouching in the seat. “I can go to the movies up on the mountain, ya know. Why can’t we hit some clubs?”
“You know very well why. It’s not Halloween,” Irma reminded him.
“It’s about time,” Fluff shouted, watching Jazz and Nick, laden down with snacks, ascending the steps. “Did you remember my red licorice?”
“Popcorn?” Puff demanded. “And there better not be butter on it.”
"Popcorn is always better with butter on it," Fluff said. "Mine does have butter, right?"
"And cheese sprinkles on mine?" Horace chimed in, scrambling over Irma and Phinneas. 'What about my chocolate covered raisins? Milk Duds and peanut M&Ms?”
“Just settle down and you’ll all get your food,” Jazz told them, handing out the treats while Nick settled large drink cups in the holders.
Fluff and Puff exchanged telling glances when four women plopped down in front of them and started chattering away while texting.
Puff's nose curled up in a bunny snarl. "Wow, this virus is really nasty." He shook himself all over, rearing back and letting loose a sneeze that sent spray everywhere.
At the same time Fluff started coughing so hard he levitated off the seat.
The women looked over their shoulders with horror, glared at them then Jazz and Nick and quickly retreated.
Jazz leaned over. "If you ever do that again, I will teleport you home so fast your heads will reach the house before your bodies do," she threatened.
"You should thank us," Fluff insisted. "They would have talked all through the movie anyway."
“And probably talked on their cells too. I really wanted to see the new Pixar film,” Puff groused. 'Why couldn't we see that?"
“No way! Horror only,” Fluff chimed in. "Did you see the poster for the new zombie film? Awesome!"
“There was a lovely romantic comedy advertised on the billboard outside,” Irma added her two cents.
Jazz looked at Nick who was sprawled in the end seat.
“Do you realize how much I paid out there?” he asked grimly. “I could have bought a car for what I had to shell out to that pimply faced kid? Why did we have to bring them?”
Jazz settled in the chair next to him, her hand taking his as she passed the cardboard tray filled with boxes of candy down the line. “Because you’re a good vampire,” she cooed, kissing him on the cheek. “And you made the mistake of asking me to go to the movies in front of the others.”
“We still could have left them home.” He relented a bit when she kissed him again. “We’re in the secluded top row, but we’ve got them too. Any reason why we couldn’t stick them elsewhere?”
“One excellent one. This is the only theater in that area that hasn’t banned F&P.” She tossed a piece of popcorn into the air and caught it with her mouth. “We’re at a movie marathon that will put them to sleep in minutes.” She murmured. “Then we can make out.”
Nick perked up at the idea. He ignored the creatures squabbling over treats, Irma’s complaints that Jazz still hadn’t fixed it so she could eat solid food, and Horace’s mutters he hoped no one he knew saw him here.
“What movie did you choose?” he asked, realizing he hadn’t bothered to look when Jazz offered to get the tickets. As the lights dimmed and the opening credits started rolling he realized his witch’s ardor might have more to do with the dark-haired man that would show up on the screen soon than Nick’s vampire charm.
“Johnny Depp again!” Fluff howled, spitting bits of popcorn everywhere. “You didn’t say we were going to see all three Pirates of the Caribbean movies?”
Horace looked a lot happier now. “All right! Keria Knightley is hot.”
Nick slumped further down in the seat even as Jazz laid her head on his shoulder.
“Forget it,” he muttered. “No pirate and damsel in distress for you. No shiver me timbers.”
Jazz kept on smiling as she stole a piece of licorice. “We’ll see.”
copyright 2010 Linda Wisdom