Yes, It's back, Sorry for the delay. and because you asked for it, it's longer too!

Every girl has to worry about what she's wearing and Karen found the perfect outfit for me to go to Terminator, the Musical.

Elan Owen - Part 7: Just the Thing
by Jesse Rabbit

Hey, guess what? I, Jesse Rabbit, am free! Yippee! Done with school! Haha! Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I was busy finishing up some other writing for the S word. and now, without further ado, the story! (Please leave comments.)

First off, before we get to whatever was inside Karen's devious little mind, allow me to explain what the big hurry was. See, at this point it was - according to The Watch - twenty till four in the afternoon. Now, normally this wouldn't have been a big problem, but my parents were, as I may have mentioned earlier, taking us (Pig, Karen, my big sister Sam, and I) to see Terminator on Broadway, in NYC, good old New York City. Now, since the orchestra begins the overture at 8:38 east coast time, which is 5:38 pacific coast time, you can see the problem.

'Cause even with a private jump plane taking us from San Rafael International Aerospace Port to Queen's Landing International Aerospace Port in a measly twenty-two minutes, and a Hovercopter taking us from Queen's Landing to Clinton Center in twelve; we still had to leave the house no later than 4:30 if we wanted to be in our seats when the music started (factoring in the eight minutes to get to our seats and the drive to San Rafael.) This meant that my parents would be home in less than half an hour, most likely twenty minutes, and that Pig would be at most ten minutes behind them, 'cause although she is a mega-pain, she still loves dressing all fancy and going to galas and such.

So it was that I stood there, naked as the day I was born (aside from a pair of socks, a pendant, and The Watch) the opposite gender I had been born as, while my best friend in the whole wide universe ransacked my closet, wardrobe, and dresser. I think that in a past life there is a good chance that Karen was a tornado. Either that or a professional room ransacker. She's really good at it. I remember thinking at the time, "She should major in this when we get to college, which, if my life keeps being this stressful I may explode before we get that far." I also remember wondering if human beings could just explode and decided that the odds were likely against it.

From time to time I would look down at the instrument of my doom and check the time, but each time I did so it seemed only a few seconds had passed. How could time crawl and fly at the same time. Finally, after an eternity - or six minutes - she presented me with a pile of clothes by the simple expedient of dropping them into my arms. Rather than letting me examine her selections she manhandled (can you say girlhandled?) me into my bathroom, which, thanks to the foresight of my often deranged parents I do not have to share with anyone.

I opened my mouth to say something but Karen simply shushed me and, taking the clothes back from me, placed them on the counter and shoved me into the shower. "Wash!" she commanded me, and so I did, figuring that arguing would take just as long and I had been exerting myself quite a bit today. After about thirty seconds Karen joined me under the half dozen plus sprayers of my shower. We cleaned ourselves rapidly, so rapidly that I didn't have time to compare my new body to Karen's old one, but I figured I'd have plenty of opportunity to do that when we weren't so pressed for time.

After our hastily completed cleansing, we toweled off and Karen pointed me at the Stylemaster 2000. (Stupid name I know, but it sells, and anyway my sister invented the original Stylemaster Hair Growth Controller and Shaper when she was twelve and Grandpa marketed it later the same year. I figured he'd just integrated the design into my Torture device... I mean Watch.) I assumed that she meant for me to sit, so I did. She fiddled with the controls and I felt my hair change.

I'd only once used the machine for anything other than a simple haircut, and that was to dye my hair green for St. Patricks day. My dad had hit the roof, even though anything the machine can do it can undo, cause I hadn't asked permission first and we aren't Christian or anything. So after another minute the Stylemaster went "Ding!" and I slipped out.

I tried to get to the mirror so I could see what I looked like, but Karen told me I had to help her and then get dressed. So she sat in the Stylemaster while I went into my room to grab her bag and bring it to her. When I got back she was getting out and her normal sky-blue pixie haircut (don't ask) had been replaced with these soft curly waves of medium brown hair down to her shoulders. She took the bag from me and grinned "How do I look?" I gave her a thumbs up and she smiled. "Time to get dressed."

I nodded and asked "So, what are you dressing me as? One of the oppressed masses of the future? A cop? Kyle?" I was hoping for Kyle cause that was what I had been going as before the whole incident started, you know, his first outfit, with the trench coat, the homeless guy's sweat pants, and a bare chest.

She just grinned and tossed me two white T-shirts.

"Two?" I asked, perplexed."

"To bulk you out slightly and keep you warm, it's New York, it's cold, you dodo." She grinned her most obnoxious grin at me.

I sighed and put them on.

She next handed me the spare pair of panties she keeps in her school bag, "In case of emergencies". I put them on, mentally shrugging off the slight unease I felt about the idea of wearing girl's underwear by pointing out to myself that I was now completely entitled to do so, and that it would actually be weirder to be wearing boy's underwear with my new body. These were followed by a loose fitting pair of light grey pants, and that was it.

I looked over at Karen, who had dressed herself as Sarah Conner outfit two, you know: cream, pink, button-down sweater with a V-neck over simple, full-length, grey skirt with a matching belt and tan sandal flats which she was fastening at that very moment. "Is this it?" I asked, thinking big whoop if it was."

She shook her head and smiled, "Just you wait. I have to get something from Sam. Now, while I'm gone, no looking in the mirror, promise?"

I nodded as she dashed from the room, returning less than two minutes later with a can of clothing color spray, some nail polish, and something else in a plastic hard case. She had me stand in the shower while she sprayed the pants, turning them from light grey to a medium brown. She then used some scissors to cut a hole in the upper thigh and splashed the area with the nail polish, giving me a convincing leg wound in the process.

I gaped at her, stunned by the speed at which she accomplished all this and glanced at my watch. We had five minutes, give or take till my parents got home and I pointed this fact out to her.

She nodded and - after applying my hair dryer to the nail polish to dry it out - tugged me out of the shower and out of the bathroom. She pointed to the bed where Sam's vintage motorcycling jacket lay. It was, of course, too big for me, but not too much so, as Sam had outgrown the thing two years ago and had stubbornly refused to give it to me for what she claimed were sentimental reasons but which I suspect was merely an attempt to annoy her younger sibling, namely me.

By now I should have had a good idea of who, or should I say what, I was being dressed as, but I didn't. I can only plead fatigue in my own defense. I put on the jacket and Karen handed me the hard case.

I opened it to find a pair of old style sunglasses, almost certainly borrowed without permission from my eldest sibling, Lawrence, or rather from his room. They were his old Gargoyles, and of course they were perfect, as Karen had known they would be, having been issued as a promotion for Terminator 4 a decade ago. I looked up at her in shock as realization dawned on me.

She nodded, grinning gleefully, as I pulled the glasses out, slipped them on my face and turned to face the mirror where I saw that I had been transformed into a rather cute version of the Terminator, albeit a shoeless one. When I pointed this fact out to Karen she grinned and handed me back my Doc Martens, shrugging "They're the best I could do. But you look soooo cute!" and with that she hugged me.

After I had disentangled myself from the cheerful clutches of the fiendish Karen and was busying myself putting my boots on when the sound of arriving parentals filled the house. To the sound of my mother calling out "Sam! Elan! Michelle!" Karen grabbed my arm, dragged me off the bed, out of the room, and down the stairs still clutching my left boot.

As she did so, she was giggling madly, but I did manage to make out, "Come with me, if you want to live." Sigh, girls are soo strange.

Case in point, when my mother saw me she positively squealed and flew across the room to hug me, lifting me into the air and swinging me around, telling me how precious I looked, even though I was dressed like a homicidal time-traveling killbot. I have just two questions: 1 - do parents live to embarrass their children? And 2 - why is it cute to see one's children dressed as incarnations of evil?. Sigh, girls are soo strange.

Sam came rushing down the stairs when she heard mom squeal and so she had to add her own comments about how cute I was and hug me, too. I know the answer to the question about older siblings and embarrass is yes, so I won't even ask and anyway after she was done hugging me, Sam hugged Karen and told her she looked charming, which made Karen blush really deep. Karen practically worships Sam; it's true she really does.

I looked at what Sam was wearing and gave her a big thumbs up on her Police Officer get up. She doffed her hat to me and said "To serve and protect".

Mom went upstairs to change into Sarah Conner club outfit just as dad came down, dressed as Kyle, of course. When he saw me he grabbed Karen and pulled her behind him, saying "I'll defend you little lady!" which was stupid cause that's not even a line from the show or the movie, but everyone giggled politely. Mom came down a couple of minutes later and - after getting the living room to take a picture of us all dressed up, we got into the car and headed off to the Aerospace Port.

* * *

Now, normally, I wouldn't bore you all with the details of the trip, I mean, you've seen the inside of one jump jet you've seen them all, and since the only people on the plane - aside from Antonia and Neil our pilots - were Karen and my family, you'd figure nothing could go wrong and thus nothing interesting would happen. And there you would be wrong, cause a problem did present itself pretty much as soon as we took off.

I had to go to the bathroom, you know "take a leak" so without thinking I went, I mean no big deal right? Wrong, the thing I leaked from for eleven years was gone and I realized this fact pretty much instantly upon pulling down my pants in the lavatory and reaching into my underwear to pull it out. So there I was, standing in before the basin, trying to figure out what in the name of Elvis Costello I was going to do when Karen (sometimes I think I'd be lost without her) knocked on the door and hissed, "Everything okay in there?"

Since everything was certainly not okay, I pulled my pants back up and cracked the door enough to hiss back, "No! How do you girls do this?"

"Do what?" she hissed back.

"You know... number one."

Fighting back an attack of the giggles, she whispered to me that I had to sit down to do it, and she told me I had to wipe afterwards. Now, I'm not stupid - most of the time - so I figured she must think I meant number two, what with the wiping, so I hissed back, "Nooo, dummy, I mean take a leak!"

This time she couldn't hold it in and just spent the next minute or so laughing at me through the door, which was very rude and not a little embarrassing. When she had collected herself, she reached through the crack in the door and flicked my forehead, hard.

"Owww! What was..."

"I'm not a dummy, dummy! I knew you meant that. And I told you how, now just do as I say, or I'm not gonna help you no more."

So I did, and it was really, really strange doing it, but I did remember to wipe down there. Boy, girls are really put together strange. And that was the end of my great bathroom adventure, at least for now. I tell you though, I was not looking forward to having to do that for the next year. Less than six hours I'd been a girl and I already missed being able to pee standing up. Thanks a lot, Grandpa, you old nutter.

* * *

So we arrived at Queen's Landing which if you've never been to NYC is just so cool. It's this big floating crystal island right out in the harbor, about half a mile from the statue of liberty. And the Jump Jets go wooshing up into space, day in and day out from it. It really looks like this big crystal beehive. It's even cooler at night when it's all lit up and the jump jets are landing in the gel deceleration pools, sending up phoenix plumes of red and blue flame and green-gold rainbows of impact gel.

From there we take the family Hovercopter to the Clinton Center for the Performing Arts, flying past the mile-tall needle that is the Empire Tower. Did you know that in the lobby of the Empire Tower is the old Empire State's Building; although no one's allowed in it anymore until they finish restoring it.

So the Malcom, our pilot, let us off at the Copter port and we walked 'round that beautiful, light sphere fountain that's in front of the Opera House. I'm sure you've seen it, I mean, last years Oscars were held here, you know, when the President performed "America the Beautiful" and "Like a Virgin"?. So we walk around the fountain and into the throng of people all dressed as this or that character from the show.

Now, Terminator is a really cool show, don't get me wrong. I love the music and I hoped I would like the production 'cause I'd been waiting six months for this. (It's one of my birthday presents.) But the one problem with it is that there are so few characters that everyone comes as either Sarah, Kyle, Ginger, the Police Sergeant, the Terminator, or the Shrink. Either that or as a cop, a soldier, or one of the downtrodden masses of the future.

By the way, did you know that going to see shows in costume started because of this really weird show called Rocky Horror Show. Apparently it was a Broadway show, then it was made into this movie which became a major cult classic, which - if you believe this - people would dress up as the parts and, like, karayoke the whole movie and throw rice and toast at the screen and hold up lighters and make up silly comments to yell back at the screen and such. So anyway, like ten or twelve years ago the Rocky Horror Show came back to Broadway - it's called a Revival - and everyone started going in costume to see it. Well, pretty soon they started going to see all the shows in costume. My dad tells me that for a while people would just go in any costume, but it soon became "the thing to do" to go in an appropriate costume. So there were like five dozen Terminators, twice that many Kyles and about ten times that many Sarahs, 'cause every girl was either Sarah, Ginger, or a Cop, it seems. It was kinda funny actually.

Anyway, we get to our box just as the lights are dimming and my stomach rumbles cause - duh! - I forgot to eat a snack when I got home, but then the music started and I forgot all about hunger, at least until intermission. I watched in fascination as first the Terminator and then Kyle appear out of their lightning time portals completely naked (the actors really were) and laughed along with the rest of the audience as they sang "Styling Up". I really enjoyed the first act, but by the time I had laughed my way through "Hit & Run", cried my way through "Life amid the Ruins", and cheered as the first act ended with "Rally the People", I was starving; so I nipped down to the concession stand and bought myself some cookies and a diet soda to wash it down with. (Mom doesn't allow us to drink stuff with that much sugar in it.)

Feeling like I could now wait for dinner, which would come after the show was over, I rejoined Karen who was engaged in her usual activity at these occasions, namely standing at the balcony of our box and taking vidclips down the bodices of the people below. She's looking for tattoos, and she has a truly remarkable collection; ranging from the three dozen roses, to a Yakuza dragon, to what we think is a map of London. She's also got shots of women with popcorn, tazers, books, vidcams, telecoms, and even a ferret between their breasts.

Karen's Life-mother is a painter and her other mother is a plastic surgeon, so they are both way obsessed with breasts. Karen's three brothers - all older - also seem to like breasts, considering that their last dozen girlfriends all seemed to have larger bra sizes than IQ's. Karen claims that her home life has permanently warped her fragile young mind, but at least her family aren't all mad-scientists, right? So what is she complaining about?

We got back into our seats as the lights went down and the music went up for the second act. which begins with, "I've Loved Her All My Life", which is heart-wrenching and beautiful, I admit that I sighed more than once during it. The actor who plays Kyle - Gerald Lancer - has such a strong and soulful voice.

It was in the middle of "Prepare" that I realized I'd made a slight mistake. The soda was catching up to me and I realized that I had to go to the bathroom again. I sat through "So Much Pain", crying 'cause it's such a sad song, and squirming in my seat. I really agreed with the actors by the end of that song, let me tell you.

Finally the song ended and I slipped out of my seat and dashed headlong for the bathrooms, just as "To Love and Be Loved" started. I didn't really mind missing it 'cause I really hate that song; it's too sappy and love scenes make me ill anyway. Mentally I figured that since the song was six minutes and eighteen seconds long and that "Go Faster", which follows it after some dialogue was three minutes and fifty-six seconds long, that I had just over eleven minutes to get back before the Terminator gets hit by the tanker truck, which I really wanted to see how they were going to stage.

Thankfully, I knew where the bathrooms were 'cause we've been to Clinton Center several times, so I just dashed headlong into the men's room, as usual. That's right, right into the men's room. 'Cause I'd forgotten that this was not a usual day. I should have left myself notes. I really should have, right on my hand where I'd be sure to see them, but then everyone would have found out and that would have been bad, right?

So I rush into the bathroom, past these two ushers and into a stall. I was so intent on doing what I had come to do and getting back out again as quickly as possible that it wasn't until I was pulling my pants back up that what I had just done and what I had just seen registered. I'd just rushed into the men's room, which wouldn't have been a big deal if it had been empty, but it hadn't been.

There were two boys, maybe sixteen or seventeen, dressed as ushers and doing slap patches with the letters HX on them. HX is of course HeroX or Heroine X, that new age, still illegal, even though most narcotics aren't anymore cause it causes psychotic breaks and completely clears the system in twelve hours, drug. And I'd seen them doing it, in a public place, while they were at work. And I was a kid.

I figured that when I opened the door I'd find them standing there, ready to intimidate me into silence or beat the tar out of me to keep me from telling the cops or the management. Know what? I was right.

I opened the door to face two boys, although the older one looked about twenty close up - leering at me, eyes bulging slightly and faces covered in excited, buzzed sweat. Hell, they were so high that they were vibrating, the younger one almost twitching.

The elder pressed his nose right up against mine and I had to fight hard to keep from gagging at the sickly sweet stench of his breath and body odor. "Hey there, kiddo, taking a leakee week?" he chuckled.

I nodded, nervous, trying hard not to panic.

"Hey, kiddo, that's cool, no biggy. Yer not gonna say nothing to no one, right?"

The younger usher grunted, "Can't we just beat the crap outta the kid, Diamond? Those are T4 Gargoyles, theey're worth a mint!"

Diamond shook his head, "Then kiddo's parentals would get all smoked, and don't tell the kid my name, dumbass!" And with that he slapped the other hard across the face. Dumbass didn't seem to like being slapped 'cause he tried to punch Diamond in the chest. A second later they were trading blows.

I figured now was the ideal moment to make a break for it and so I dashed for the door. I almost made it too, but they noticed and chased after me.

Diamond must have dove after me cause I felt a hand grab the back of my pants and tug them downwards. I heard a gasp and dumbass said "Christ! It's a girl!" just as I felt the breeze cool my crotch.

The impact of hitting the floor must have loosened Diamond's grip cause I was able to pull free, slip out the door with my pants around my ankles. As soon as I was out I pulled them up and dashed back towards our box, trying to fasten them as I ran. Have you ever tried to fasten pants while running? It's not easy let me tell you, but I did it just as I got to the box and slipped in without incident.

Mom leaned over and whispered, "Feeling okay, kiddo?" but thankfully she couldn't see me flinch or see my heart beating a mile a minute in my chest.

I whispered, "Yep", and sat back to watch the show. I was right I'd made it back with a minute to spare and seeing them stage the Terminator/tanker truck crash was awesome. From there the action quickly spiraled up to the climax.

Mom cried when Kyle died, I think so did dad, Karen was too busy egging the Terminator on to kill Sarah. I think Karen may be mentally ill, she always roots for the bad guys. Then there was the epilogue, with Sarah singing "How Can I Tell You About Your Father", which I shed a tear during, and then the ensemble came out to sing the finale "All Alone With the Future / There's a Storm Coming".

The lights and curtain went down and there was breathless silence for a moment and then a bolt of artificial lightning, complete with a huge crash of thunder rocked the auditorium and the audience jumped in surprise and then jumped to their feet; the applause was thunderous.

***

It turned out that Dad had arranged something special for me, as another birthday present. After the show we got to go back stage and the stars of the show sang me happy birthday, this time with the regulation lyrics.

Herman (Hair Mahn) Lenshure - the guy who plays the Terminator, gave me mad props on my costume and even recognized the T4 Gargoyles. I was humble though and gave credit where credit was due, although I did compare Karen to Skynet (Super Evil Computer with dreams of world domination). Then I ducked as she tried to slap me upside the head.

Debra Bloom - Ginger - told Karen and I that we were both really adorable girls. Both of us blushed, but for different reasons. My dad was going to correct her but I just gave him a tiny shake of my head, this was way too cool to worry about embarrassing Debbie, and anyway it was true now, right?

Gerald Lancer - who as I said before played Kyle - gave each of us, including Sam but not mom or dad, kisses on the cheeks. I just smiled and tried not to blush or rub my cheek with the back of my hand, but the real girls both tittered like chipmunks. Why do girls do that?

Finally, Hastings Cox-Arquette - Sarah Conner - came up with her Dad, David Arquette, who's the Director. Dad says that David used to be something of a joke twenty years ago, but he's really matured since then. Hastings let me wear her prosthetic belly and I let her wear my glasses. (Okay, so their Lawrence's, but anyway.) Then they all autographed our programs and we got a couple of shots of us with them, including one with all three Sarah's and one with both Terminators. And that was that.

***

After that we all headed out to the street to catch a cab to Rainbows and Stars, which is really nice restaurant, and we were chatting away, taking about the show, when I felt someone grab my shoulder hard and jerk me back into the crowd of people. I smelled who it was before he said anything and my heart froze in my chest. It was Diamond and he hissed, "Gotcha, chicky!" and laughed his sick little laugh again. And that's when I panicked.

To be continued in Part 8 - Zero to Sixty