Chapter 4: The Hold-the-doors

After lessons, Plotter was approached by Johnny of the Hold-the-door house. "C'mon, Mr. Plotter," he said, "You're supposed to stay with us tonight."

"And if I refuse, are you gonna sick Sonny on me?" Harried said, with a grin.

"Sonny's a wuss," said Johnny, matter-of-factly. "I'm the one who does all the dirty work."

Johnny, not being much of a talker, didn't say anything else until they arrived at another portrait, which presumably guarded the entrance like the one by the Brave-in-law house.

"HEEEEEEERE'S JOHNNY!" came two familiar voices from inside the portrait.

Johnny smiled and waved. "Hey Jerry. Hey Jax. How are things?"

"Just wonderful, Mate," said Jerry. "The Olympics were loads of fun..."

"....but that doesn't mean we're still in Australia," added Jax.

"Quite right," agreed Jerry. "Low profile, and all that..."

"I see you have Plotter with you," said Jax, in a less-than-friendly manner.

"Yeah, nice shorts," added Jerry.

Harried held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Now Jerry," he said, "I can kind of understand why you might be a little miffed after the way you were written out, but Jax...I gave you back your heart's desire. I reunited you with your beloved Brenda..."

"No, I reunited him with his beloved Brender," insisted Jerry. "Found 'er while I was givin' 'im a swirlie in the loo," he said, grinning widely. "Needless to say, he wasn't too keen about that big, sloppy reunion kiss, eh Jaxie?" he added, nudging his brother.

Jax winced at the memory and glared at Plotter. "What's the password?" he asked.

"Servitor," said Johnny, and the painting swung open. Johnny ushered Plotter into the Hold-the-door common room. Unlike the Brave-in-law welcome, this one seemed considerably warmer, as the moment he stepped into the room several of the menials appeared at his side, proffering an array of goodies and drink.

"Canape?" said Reginald.

"Scone?" said Mrs. Lansbury.

"Some of Mikkos Cassadine's finest port, perhaps?" said Andreas.

"Chili?" said Tammy.

"Cheese Fries?" said Claude.

"Beer?" said Jake.

"My, my so much to choose from..." said Harried, his hand hovering in limbo over the trays.

"WAIT! STOP!" yelled a ghost as it entered through the wall. As it flitted about the room, Harried noticed that it was practically two-dimensional. When you looked at it one way, it was very difficult to see, appearing as a thin line, but when it turned 90 degrees one way or the other, it seemed much larger and kind of spread out.

Mrs. Lansbury rolled her eyes. "What is she doing here?"

"Who is she?" asked Harried.

"Don't you recognize me, Mr. Plotter?" asked the ghost. "I'm Katherine Bell!"

"A-k-a 'Nearly-Flattened Kat'" added Reginald. "What's the matter, Katy, did Stefan and Helena get tired of lobbing you back and forth over the parapet?"

"Oh, ha-ha," said Katherine, with an arrogant toss of her big flat head. "I'm here to chat with Mr. Plotter, of course, and to save him from all of your 'just-desserts' trays."

Harried immediately dropped the scone he had selected. "You mean, these are all..."

"...poisoned, I'm sure," said Katherine. "Fortunately, I'm here to test them for you." And she did just that, wolfing down every offering with considerable relish. She patted her belly and gave a rather loud belch.

"I take it they were okay after all..." said Harried, looking at the now-empty trays.

"Even if they weren't, it wouldn't matter. I'm dead already!" she said, with a laugh. "You can only kill me so many times, you know!"

"Ain't that the truth!" said Reginald, Mrs. Lansbury, and Plotter in unison.

"At any rate, I'm sure that I have better things to do than to socialize with 'the help' and the writer responsible for my final demise," she said, a wide smirk spanning the considerable expanse of her face. "And it's only a matter of time before I find out what those better things are..."

With that, she turned sideways and disappeared.

"Why didn't I kill her the first time?" mused Harried.

Leticia put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. Others had tried before you," she said, casting a loving look at Reginald.

"I must say," said Plotter, "that you're all a whole lot nicer to me than the Brave-in-laws were, at first."

"It's in our nature to serve, you know," said Andreas.

"Yeah, despite what we might think of the serve-ees," added Reginald.

Uh-oh, here it comes, thought Plotter. "So, the snacks were poisoned after all?" he asked tentatively.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." said Mrs. Lansbury. "You were the one who controlled our dispositions. Be they ever so mercurial."

"Yeah, we were just plot devices to you, weren't we?" added Tammy.

Being outnumbered, as usual, Harried thought it best to tread carefully. "Really now, what do you expect?" he asked in a neutral tone. "The front-burner is a rather static place. Sure stuff happens occasionally, but mostly, it's a lot of conversation. In a world like that, someone's got to do the actual leg-work."

They stood silent for a moment, considering his words. "When you put it like that, we sound pretty important," said Claude.

"You are!" agreed Plotter.

"We're also quite disposable," added Andreas, with a glare. "As those who take action are the most likely to get acted upon."

"Well, that's probably true too," Plotter admitted. "But you're also the most unpredictable, the most dangerous of the characters. You wield a lot of power."

Reginald smiled. "Yeah. 'The butler did it'. I've always liked that line."

"Nevertheless," said Johnny (his polysyllabic interjection drawing a number of odd looks his way), "it'd be nice if we could have some kind of life outside of our jobs. Do you know how tired I get of staring at the penthouse elevator door all day?"

"I'm tired of being fired every other week," added Claude.

"I'm tired of being accosted," said Andreas. "Honestly, I think I've been in more head-locks than the governor of Minnesota..."

Plotter spread his hands. "There's really nothing I can do about that now, you know." he said. "And even if I could, remember that there's only so much room on the canvas..."

"Yes, but every canvas needs a little color," said Leticia. "And it wouldn't hurt to give a couple of us a little story of our own, now and then."

"After all," added Jake, with a wink. "We could be very interesting people..."

Plotter scanned the diverse group assembled before him, and found himself unable to disagree. He must have looked as tired as he felt, as Andreas suddenly appeared at his side with a drink in hand. "Care for a night cap before you retire, sir?" he asked.

Plotter eyed the mixture suspiciously, and declined.

"Coward," said Andreas, downing the drink himself.

Plotter slept fitfully that night, plagued by dreams of being back with the Disneys, serving up stories in the same manner that the menials had tried to serve him. The Disneys refused his offerings again and again, perhaps fearing that there might be something more in them than the usual ingredients...

On to Chapter 5

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