Inflatable Grimace Costume Novels & Stories

Jamie yells at a dark-haired girl dressed as Mulan who seems be trying to murder me with her death stare. “I think her boyfriend already is,” Grace says, pointing to a tall boy with his phone pointed at me. He doesn’t seem to have understood the fairy tale theme when he picked out his costume – he’s dressed as zombie Michael Jackson, which looks extra bizarre in light of him holding a brand new iPhone, the camera light flashing as he stares at me wide-eyed. His girlfriend notices and slaps the phone right out of his hand. As we walk by, she mutters something that sounds suspiciously like skank, but I couldn’t care less.

I pause, glancing in the mirror panel that is at the top of the steps, looking at my ass that pretty much swallows my bodysuit right up. I ruffle my fake hair before I step out into the back garden, where everyone is in costume. There’s Zade as Ghostface. I recognise it’s him instantly. Valerie is a zombie doctor, Damien is a pirate, Anthony is – I don’t really know, he looks weird with all kinds of ruffles and too much red. He’s wearing a weird wig too. “What are you supposed to be?” I ask, patting his arm. He looks at me frowning, but that frown vanishes when he looks me over, whistling.

What the fuck? I walk out and keep moving from one room to the other and when I reach the end of the corridor and open the door; I find Mara sitting with Grace. Grace’s eyes are puffy and red and when she sees me, she lets out a whimper. Her mouth is covered with tape, her hands are taped together and so are her feet. “Mara is brushing Grace’s hair while the tears roll down her cheeks. She’s wearing a pink puffy dress, and I know that’s not hers. I never bought her anything like that, and she is wearing so much makeup that almost doesn’t look like my daughter.

Billy asked. “Zombie. It’s got to look good, though. I don’t want to look like some lame-ass walking dead geek in that disappointing Resident Evil movie. It’s got to look messed up and grotesque.” “I’m sure we can come up with something. We’ll get plenty of fake blood and grab those intestines.” “Oh, hell yes!” “We can scab up your face, too. Make it look like part of your skull is showing.” Chuck laughed maniacally. “This is going to be so awesome.”

I add, since the contract states I should dress sexy, but not slutty. He grins even wider, clearly enjoying himself. I don’t get the joke. “So just to be clear … your version of ‘presentable’ includes a jet-black face mask, wet hair, and a T-shirt with a rainbow vomiting unicorn?” I blink, then look down. Crap. It’s my bedtime T-shirt. The unicorn’s eyes are crossed. The rainbow looks radioactive.

Grace began to smirk, and Wren stopped talking, giving her an unimpressed look. “What?” Grace asked with pretentious innocence “I would appreciate it if no smiling or flirty faces are made. This is actually serious stuff and I’m pretty messed up about it.” Grace dropped her smile immediately. “Fine. Sorry. Dead serious. Promise.” She mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.

They are all there. And they are looking at me. There is no "Happy Birthday." No well-wishes. Just a deathly silence, then laughter. A single, massive laugh that explodes and strikes me full force. My eyes land on the stage at the back of the hall. And I see. There is a grotesque, inflatable replica of an obese body, adorned with an approximate brown wig and a dress identical to mine. A twisted golden cardboard crown is perched askew on its head. And on the crown, written in large letters: "QUEEN OF THE WHALES."

"How do you know what the glow means?" "Because mine does the same thing." Grace held up her own hand. Let it glow softly. "When I'm scared, I glow. When I'm angry, I crackle. When I'm happy, I just—shimmer. Like this." The glow became warm. Golden. Beautiful. Maya stared. "You're five years old." "You said that last night too." "It's still surprising." "I know." Grace stood. "Come downstairs. Reaper made real breakfast. Not burned this time."

The last time I modeled it, his eyes widened in excitement. It’s a plain denim spaghetti strap short romper. That has little flowers on the straps and outlining the pockets, with a matching belt and long silk headband. I use the scarf as a neck sash to camouflage my throat. I don’t have to hide my bruises, but this looks cute. I hope he likes it. I watch a makeup tutorial from Gio and a lovely model. With it, I’m able to hide the discolorations on my face. I did a decent job, and it gave me time to write, as that’s all I’ve been doing.