Execution

Rufus was feasting. Little disintegrated bits of popcorn sprayed from his crumpling and uncrumpling fuzzy electric purple lips. None, of course, made it down his throat. That was his curse: his every wriggling conscious moment on the puppetteer's wrist was made sour by his craving for popcorn, and yet he could never actually eat even a mouthful. "Mmph, gromph, nomchomp. Gosh, I'm really sorry." said Rufus. "I can't help it when I'm nervous." "You can't ever help it." said Mary. Her voice was like a little piccolo, and three strands of yellow yarn hung down her pink canvas brow. She was gazing at Rufus with a confusing mixture of pity and reproach. "That's just you, isn't it? All appetite." "What creature isn't its appetite?" asked Dartagnan. He leaned back as he spoke, and turned slowly back and forth between Rufus and Mary. His arms hung perfectly slack at his sides, a picture of languid ease in his smart suit. His neck was comparably limp, and so his pale face lolled slightly as his mismatched button gaze swung. "Can any of us claim to have had anything?" he continued. "We don't eat. I don't even have a pocket. A little fantasy about consumption, well, it's only fitting." Right then, a cheerfu mumbling and a bucket had presented themselves a little below the other three. "Rasky! Rasky come up!" shouted Rufus, gyrating with delight. Raskolnikov rose bumping into view from below, bucket hat pulled low over his one remaining googly eye. His smile was broad, as usual. "Good afternoon Rufus," said Raskolnikov. "I was just tending to my little garden. My tomatoes are coming in nicely this year, don't you know! And corn besides--we might even be able to pop you some this summer, if--but ah! I'm forgetting, did we have a meeting called?" Dartagnan sighed, "I wonder what they keep you around for, you sap. Didn't you hear? The Detective is coming." Mary glared at Dartagnan. "Hmm? The Detective?" Raskolnikov asked. Mary bumbled over to Raskolnikov, still glaring at Dartagnan, and answered, "Yes, Rodya. We don't know why, but he's due to arrive any minute." "But we're all here!" said Rufus. "Who else could come? It's never been anyone besides us four." Dartagnan, unable to roll just his eyes, rolled his whole head in a still more exasperated sarcasm. He said, "Yes you great purple oaf. There's not much more room for a fifth, now is there?" Mary shuddered and slumped a little, but Rufus just shook his head and continued with his enthusiastic confusion "That's what I'm saying, D. How are we going to make room for a fifth?" At this, Mary cut in. She tipped hear head back to see up Rufus's long elastic-ribbed torso as she spoke "Rufus, it's going to be alright." she said. Her voice was quiet, but steady. "Dartagnan, I don't think you're helping at all. We're not all quite so fascinated as you might be." Dartagnan turned away sulking and working his jaw in silence. "I see," said Raskolnikov. He looked downward, and his eye swung back and forth a little, taking in his body and below. "There's just not enough room in our little world for a fifth, is there?" Rufus was beginning to gyrate a little, to shiver. Mary brought her pitying gaze back down from her shaggy friend and fixed it on Dartagnan. "Why is The Detective coming, anyway?" she asked. Dartagnan, without turning around, replied, "I hardly think that's the concern right now, Little Miss Mary. You know as well as I that one of us will have to--make room for him. Seems to me that now is a time for reflections and gratitude, not a witch-hunt." "Ugh, just like you." she said. "Well this time I'm not going to be taken in. You're always the one mussing with Raskolnikov's garden, making Rufus out to be the fool." "So? Weren't you just comforting Rufus through his pathetic nature? I didn't ask to understand the world, this one is just my lot. So please, take your high-minded judgements--no more than the paltry squabbles of a hare in a flooding warren." "A flooding what? But it's not raining." said Rufus. "Shhh, nevermind." said Mary, then to Dartagnan, "YOU! You probably summoned The Detective yourself! I see it now, and it is in your nature--testing the boundaries of our existence on a roll of the dice! Three in four, you witness. One in four you find out first-hand, eh? Well, Dartagnan, let's better your odds!" "Your blood is up, Mary. Best not lose our temper, little one." said Dartagnan, rising to his full height and turning toward the ferocious girl. "Stop! Stoy fighting!" said Rufus. His twitching had brought a static charge to his fuzzy coat, and his hairs stood alarmed all over his body. "I don't understand why you're fighting!" he wailed. Raskolnikov signed, then spoke soothingly to his friend "It's because--" "No!" said Mary, but Raskolnikov continued. "--because one of us will have to go away for the detective to arrive." "Why?" said Rufus, "Go where?" "Well, none of us knows." said Raskolnikov. "But I can't remember if I've ever gone away and come back before. It might just be the end." "And extinguishing." said Dartagnan drily. "A stingsheen?" said Rufus, beginning to tremble more severely, "I don't like the sound of that." "Ha!" said Dartagnan. "Like, dislike! I hardly know what counts anymore." "At least I brought some joy. I could hear the laughter." said Mary, choking on her voice, defiant. "Which is worth what, exactly? And to whom? Did that bring you purpose, Mary? Did a little laughter make it all worth it? The forces that gave us shape, did they want laughter out of you like juice from an orange? What did you want, Mary? Did you want the moon? Do you even know what the moon is?" Dartagnan was cackling. "Stop, you monster. You brought him, you called the detective, and you can make room for him!" Mary bellowed, advancing toward Dartagnan. "I don't want to go away." said Rufus, shaking now. "I know, buddy. But if I leave, will you check on my tomatoes in the spring?" said Raskolnikov. Rufus suddenly stopped shaking, and then whispered "I don't want to leave." He turned toward Raskolnikov. Raskolnikov nodded, and Rufus bit his head off. "RUFUS NO!" Mary screamed. Dartagnan was staring and gagging. Raskolnikov's corpse slumped and fell away. For a moment, only Rufus's messy chewing made any sound. A knock sounded, and a figure wrapped in a beige duster entered. Stuttering, Dartagnan asked "Detective? What brought you here?" He looked back and forth between them all, steely. "I understand there's been a murder."