Kande comes out of her room, dressed in sweats and a tee shirt. She and Heidi planned to wrassle for remote to the TV. As she enters the living room, she feels a draft and looks down at herself.

"Crap!" she screeches. "How did this happen?"

Satan turns from the TV screen and blanches. "My eyes! My eyes!" he wails, clutching his face and falling to the floor. The other Socks turn to see what set him off.

"Good golly, girl! What are you wearing?" Stan gasps.

Kande crosses her legs and hunches over trying to hide herself. She is clothed in a strap of cloth around her chest, sumo wrestler diapers, and argyle knee socks. The Socks who had gathered 'round behind her flee in terror when she bends over, exposing a vast expanse of rubbery hind end.

"Ooh," Kande seethes. "This is Heidi's fault! I came out here dressed respectfully, and this is what happens." She turns and starts stalking towards Heidi's bedroom, the Socks falling in behind and shielding their eyes from her wobbling rear end.

Throwing open the door, Kande bellows at Heidi. "Quit blogging and changing my clothes! This was supposed to be a respectable wrestling match." She stops and stares at her sister. All that can be seen beneath the pile of blankets is a quivering red nose. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm siiiiiiick," Heidi wails, her voice muffled from all the covers she's piled on top of herself. "Come closer, sister, so that I may bid you adieu."

Kande looks at her skeptically, but does as she asks. "You're talking funny too."

Heidi throws an arm theatrically over her forehead. Her eyes are watery hot orbs above chapped, flushed cheeks. "I think I was poisoned with cage troll sweat. Just throw me on top of a pyre with the rest of the plague victims!"

Kande turned to the Socks. "She's been watching 'Lord of the Rings' again, right? I told you guys to hide those DVD's!"

Dave looks puzzled. "There aren't any plague victims in Lord of the Rings. She must be delusional."

"Ooh," Stan enthuses. "Remember when Gandalf plunged into the pit with the fire demon? I cry every time!"

"That fire demon was one of mine," Satan informs them self-importantly. "Peter was so grateful I sent him, that he gave me tickets to the opening."

"Harold," Dave says sotto voice to the rest of the Socks. "Used to be an investment banker pre-Hell. Very full of himself."

Heidi has pushed herself up on the pillows as they were talking. "Best. Movies. Ever. You should watch them."

Kande frowns. "If you weren't blogging and made me wear this outfit, then who did?" She gestures towards the sumo diaper, which has started to sag.

"Hmm. Who else likes to see you wear ridiculous outfits?" Heidi muses.

All Dave Wants For Christmas

Satan stares intently at the computer screen. "C'mon, peoples. I know you're out there. Comment!"

"They're probably too busy with Santa stuff, Boss," Dave tells him helpfully, as he hangs his stocking over the fireplace.

"Since when did 'Ho, Ho, Ho' replace 'Muwahahahaha?'" Satan snarled as he slammed down the lid of the laptop.

"Probably since 'ho, ho, ho' comes with presents," Dave continues helpfully, and gets the *present* of a box on the ear from Satan. He sighs. He asked Santa for a lump of coal and a lighter. Contrary to popular belief, there are cold days in Hell. Sometimes Satan would send demons with whom he was displeased to an arctic waste deep in the depths of the most forbidding corner of Hell. It was so cold it burned the lungs and one could feel nostril hairs bristling and breaking off in the nose. Dave hoped the coal and lighter would help if he ever got sent there again.

Of course, he'd also asked Santa for a shameful secret gift: a harp.

Santa Monkey's coming to town...

"He sees you when you're sneaking.
He knows when you're passed out.
He knows when you've been nabbed by cops
So be discrete for cryin' out loud..."

The sock critters cover their ears, but can't completely block out the horrendous noise that is Heidi singing. Dave goes over to the radio and turns it up. It doesn't completely end the squeals, but it's a vast improvement.

"Stan, is there really a Santa Monkey?" As he asks, Cal sits at the feet of the worldly Stan. Or at least the critters think he's worldly. He does wear a smoking jacket, after all. Dave, Satan, GOB and his goat, and Dr. F gather around. Stan, realizing he has an audience, puffs out his chest.

"Of course there's a Santa Monkey!"

"Don't you mean Satan Monkey?" snorts Dave. Satan gives him a soul-leeching look. Dave blanches and moves closer to the witch.

Stan continues. "I remember this night back in '07 when Santa Monkey and I really painted the town. Ah, what a night. Santa had this gig where he would go down chimneys and hook up with the ladies. He was paid handsomely, too. All the milk and cookies he could imbibe."

"You mean...Santa Monkey is a gigolo?" asks an awe-struck Cal.

Digging himself an even deeper hole: "Yes. Yes he is. Or was, rather. He quit the night he went down Heidi's chimney. Did you know," he leans in and whispers to the group, "she walks around wearing nothing but ratty old lady underpants with knee-hi nylons and a halter top when she thinks no one is around?" He visibly shudders. "Boy, that's an image I'll never get out of my head."

As Usual, You've Lost Me

Heidi looks up from her book as Kande shuffles into the living room, wearing a paper hospital robe and leaving damp footprints in the carpet. The robe sticks to her body in wet patches and has staples in the hem. She's holding it together it in the back.

"What did you do with my clothes?" she says between clenched teeth.

"What clothes?" Heidi asks, still staring at her sister. Why would anyone wear a hospital robe willingly outside of a hospital?

Kande clutches at her hair, but then remembers the open back of the robe and the fact that her back is to the window on a busy street. "Why do you always do this to me on the blog?" she wails.

"Do what to you? I have no idea what you're talking about!" Heidi informs her in a hurt tone.

Meanwhile...back in the office Satan is typing away on the computer, while the other Sock Critters egg him on.

"Ooh, make her pull out a clump of her hair!" Stan tells him as Satan blogs away.

"Have Heidi order her back into the bathroom to put on her granny underwear," Dave chortles.

What's Heidi Doing You'd Like to Know?

Leaving Kande to her much-needed shower, the Socks use their collective strenth to push open the bedroom door and check on their beloved leader. Peering into the living room, they see Heidi, showered and dressed and with neatly shorn and brushed hair, sipping coffee with her legs tucked under her reading a book. The house is tidy, good smells are emitting from the kitchen, a fire burns merrily in the fireplace while snow falls softly outside.

"What?" asks Heidi politely.

"Just checkin'," Satan informs her. The Socks go back to waiting for massive amounts of fawning from fans.

We're Celebrities!

Stan gives his ears a final pat, and smoothes down the front of his plaid, polyester smoking jacket. Behind him, Satan and Demon Dave jostle for the mirror.

"Hell's Bells, Dave. You're covered in cat fur," Satan admonishes his minion while licking his finger and running it over his thin goatee and mustache. A final twitch to his black cape and he pronounces himself as the handsomest Sock Creature on the face of the planet.

"Critter," Dave informs him absently as he frantically tries to brush away all the cat fur adhering to his little black sock body.

"Pardone moi?" Satan asks him politely, although his eyes are slitted and his trigger finger is poised for battle.

"Heidi called us sock critters in her Xmas newsletter," Dave tells him nervously. The last thing he needs now is a singed ear on the eve of his chance at celebrity status. He is saved from just that by the entrance of Kande, grody from not yet having a shower. Her short hair sticks up on one side, her eyes are crusted with sleep boogers, and her breath reeks. Her haphazardly sewn boxer shorts are held up with string and her robe has rips from where the cats used it for a scratching post. She yawns, causing all the assembled sock critters to gasp and choke.

"Lucifer's lips!" Satan gags. "Brush much?"

Stan waves a paw in front of his nose. "Garlic pizza for breakfast?"

Kande snarls at them. "Three days ago is the answer to both of those questions. What's going on here?"

The sock critters gather themselves a respectable distance from her. "We're celebrities."

"Celebrities! Since when?" Kande barks.

"Let's see," Stan starts counting on his fingers. "Heidi sent her newsletter out last Thursday. The Iowa contigent of fans should have received it on Saturday. Any day now we're expecting a huge number of people reading and commenting on her the Sock Sisters blog."

"Hell-oooooo out there!" Satan bellows suddenly. "I'm the best looking Sock! And the most fun!"

"It's not like they're in the room, dinglebutt," Kande giggles.

All the Sock critters look around. "Oh, they're out there," Stan informs her in a hushed voice. "They're lurking right now. I'm sure we'll receive compliments any minute now."

"Comments, not compliments." Realizing that even now friends and family members might be judging her, Kande closes her robe and wishes she'd thought to shave her legs and cut her toe talons. "I'm off to take a shower."

"Close the door this time!" Satan hollers after her. "I just had breakfast."

The Socks Wanna Go Hunting

Bzzzt….bzzzt…bzzzt. Heidi groans as she rolls from her nice, warm bed to cross the room and turn off her alarm clock. Wiping gook from her eyes, she sleepwalks towards the bathroom, but stumbles over something hard. “Ouch! What the heck?”

Fumbling her way towards the light switch, Heidi gasps when the light reveals a posse of Sock critters armed with Robar rifles, complete with scopes. She swats at the red beam of light that appears to be aimed somewhere in the vicinity of her forehead.

“For Pete’s sake! Point that somewhere else!”

“Sorry,” Satan says unrepentantly. “Just practicing.”

“Go practice somewhere else,” Heidi tells him crossly. “No, wait. What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“Tonya invited us to go hunting with her and the first dude,” Stan tells her excitedly. “It’s part of kandemonkey’s grand plan.”

Heidi sits down hard on the side of the bed. “Grand plan for what?” she asks fearfully.

“We’re picking McCain & Co. off, one at a time,” Satan whispers out of the corner of his mouth. “The first dude thinks we’re going wolf hunting.”

“Oh God,” Heidi falls back on the bed. “You’re all going to get arrested. Or get me arrested. Or miss and shoot each other. I don’t know what’s worse. Are you sure this is kandemonkey’s idea?”

Stan scratched his head and looked at the others for help. Demon Dave shrugged. “Tonya said it was.”

“Do you guys never read Wikipedia? Tanya is a disaster on two legs.” Heidi informed them as she struggled upright. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.” She grabs Satan’s gun by the barrel. “Give me that.”

Satan tightens his grip. “Don’t be a spoilsport. I thought it sounded like a great idea. Kandemonkey needs all the help she can get.” The two fall to the ground. Demon Dave surrenders his gun, and Stan watches helplessly. A loud report is heard, and chunks of plaster from a sudden hole in the ceiling sprinkle the two with dust.

“ARGH. You just shot my ceiling!” Heidi screams, as with a final yank she pulls the rifle out of Satan’s hands.

“Great! Terrific! Now we’ve got to tell Tonya we can’t go,” Satan snarls.

Over by the window, Stan shakes his head. Headlights seem to spotlight him for a minute, and then they pass. “She’s already gone,” he said forlornly. “Now she’ll have the fun all to herself.”

The Socks Get Political

“Well, I know who I’m voting for,” Stan announced to the group one day, after spending half the afternoon on the computer.

Kande crammed another chip into her already full mouth. “Oo?”

“Kandemonkey!” Stan announced proudly. “I found his blog http://monkey4prez.blogspot.com/. He seems really current on the issues and get this: He’s a monkey!”

Kande swallowed hastily. “Maybe she’s a monkey.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Here’s a picture of him.” He holds out a piece of paper, and everyone crowds closer to get a better look. Satan even shoves Demon Dave out of the way to peer at the picture.

“That looks like some guy in a sock monkey mask,” Satan says skeptically.

“Oof. Talk about putting lipstick on a pig,” Heidi smirks.

“No, all sock monkeys’ lips are like that,” Stan informs her innocently.

“I think Kandemonkey looks like quite a catch,” Kande says staunchly. “And would probably make an excellent president. There is a bowling alley in the White House, right?”

“I’m sure KANDEmonkey would like that,” Heidi says sarcastically. “Speaking of which,” she grabs the paper out of Stan’s hands and holds it next to Kande’s oversized head, “does this remind you of anyone?”

“Uncle Fritz!” Stan pipes up in an excited voice. “It looks just like my Uncle Fritz.”

“Kandemonkey looks like a monkey’s uncle?” Satan said incredulously.

Heidi chuckles. “I’d be a monkey’s uncle if kandemonkey was your uncle.”

“You’re kandemonkey’s uncle?” Stan’s little French knot eyes get big and round.

“No, er…it’s just an expression.” Heidi explains. “It means I’d be surprised if kandemonkey turned out to be a sock monkey.”

Stan, Satan, Cody, and Demon Dave look at her expectantly.

“What? WHAT?” Heidi asks.

“You’re acting as if you know the illustrious kandemonkey,” Satan tells her. “Do tell.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’m not the one being a donkey’s ass,” Satan tells her. “Or a monkey’s uncle, or a dog’s paw. Who is kandemonkey?”

“It’s obviously…” Heidi begins.

“Oh, look at the time!” Kande exclaims, jumping up from the couch and spilling her bag of chips. “Time for Socks to go to bed!”

They all look at her. “It’s 4:30 in the afternoon.”

She clears her throat. “Right. So what kind of platform does kandemonkey have?”

“Let’s go look!” Stan says enthusiastically, and then leads the way as they all troop to the office computer and watch over Stan’s shoulder as he pulls up the website.

“Look, kandemonkey’s standing on a platform. Is that a gallows?” Satan asks gleefully.

“What? What kind of person stands on a gallows to deliver a message?” Heidi peers over Stan’s shoulder and then glares at her sister. “A very sick one, that’s who.”

“I like it,” Satan gloats. “And look, the running mate is Tanya Harding!”

Stan and Demon Dave looked at him. “Who?”

“The figure skater who’s husband kicked Nancy Kerrigan in the knee.” Satan stroked the screen. “She’s one of mine,” he said fondly.

“Ew. That’s a real vote of confidence,” Heidi moaned.

“I like it,” Stan announces decisively. “Kandemonkey needs a heavy hitter behind her. Vote for kandemonkey!” He starts marching around the room, pumping his paw in the air. Demon Dave joins him and pretty soon all the sock critters are having themselves a little rally. Kande watches from the sidelines with a big grin on her face, while Heidi rests her face in her hands.

Meet the characters: Cody

Well, not much more to say to introduce myself. You've read my story of how I became a zombie. I don't blame Stan, really. He doesn't want anyone to know this, but he's going bald. Yeah, that's right. A monkey going bald. A young one, at that. Tsk. Well, then, it's only fair that his best friend is a zombie. He's already thinking of ways to use me to get to the Barbies. Here's his latest idea: I'm supposed to lurch over to the gaggle of Barbies, drooling and saying, "Aagh. Brains." He thinks they'll go running to him to protect them. I'm not so sure. That smoking jacket may be hot, but it isn't exactly...manly.

The Sock Version of the Monkey's Paw - Otherwise Known As Cody's Story

The day Cody joined the leagues of the undead started like every other day in the school year. Well, almost.

I got up and slipped on the smoking jacket Kande had made for me out of an old dress of her grandmother’s. I loved the slick feel of the wildly patterned polyester beneath my paws. I put it on over my usual school uniform because today was the day I was going to impress a Barbie. Any Barbie.

Sure, Barbies didn’t usually go for Sock Monkeys. They hadn’t yet formed an appreciation for our gangly forms, our large protruding ears, or our Mick Jagger-style lips. I was hoping to change all that by appealing to the Barbies’ love of modern, stylish clothing.

I had just draped myself over the front steps of the Sock Sister home when Cody jogged up, his backpack thudding against the extra padding Kande had applied to his rear end. He was holding up his black felt shorts with one hand, and trying to tuck in his white felt shirt with the other. The tie knotted around his neck flopped from side to side as he ran up to me and skidded to a stop, tripped over a rock, and fell flat on his face.

“Hey, Stan. Whoa. Way hot smoking jacket,” he gasped as he rolled over to gape at me.
I gave him a knowing smirk. “I know. No Barbie will be able to resist me.” I turned so he could see my profile, and placed a cigarette to my lips.

Cody almost turned himself into a knot trying to place as much space between us as possible. “Stan! You know what fire does to socks!” he gasped. “We’re highly flammable.”

“Don’t be a footie, it’s not lit. It’s just for effect.” I held it up again to my mouth and squinted at him. With this look, Barbies would be teetering towards me on their perpetually arched feet from all directions.

Cody sulked. “I wish someone would make me a smoking jacket.” Ha. In his dreams. Kande would never make Cody a smoking jacket; the best thing Kande could do for Cody was learn how to put in elastic. Cody was forever losing his pants. Except for my smoking jacket, Kande only used felt to make clothes for all the Socks and she never put in waistbands.

Even if Kande could change her ways, Cody couldn’t possibly be trusted with the awe-inspiring hotness that was the smoking jacket. With his swollen upper lip, jagged teeth, wild yarn hair, and propensity for droopy drawers Cody didn’t need a smoking jacket because he’d never attract a Barbie. The Barbies went for the elite toys: the GI Joe’s, the talking robots, and the Ken’s. The Ken’s were so attractive to them, it wasn’t at all surprising to see an entire gaggle of Barbies flocked around one. So what was a smitten sock monkey like myself to do? Get a smoking jacket and hike up his hotness factor, that’s what. The Barbies knew their clothing.

As the two of us strolled toward school, my pride in the smoking jacket and the thought of the Barbies it would attract made me push out my chest higher and higher until I felt I towered over Cody. He didn’t seem to notice, rambling on about a basketball game the night before between the newest socks and the older sock monkeys. I was practicing my cigarette handling, when we turned the corner and my heart suddenly sped up. There was a whole flock of Barbies tittering on the front steps of the school, and nary a Ken or GI Joe in sight.

“It’s now or never, Cody,” I breathed, holding my cigarette to the side and hiking up my backpack with the other hand. Cody never even glanced at the Barbies. His entire attention was on an ice cream truck parked on the street corner.

“Stan! They’ve got that new flavor everyone’s talking about. Sock n’ dots!” Cody had just grabbed my sleeve as I was lifting the cigarette to my lips. I felt something tear.

“Cody! What have you done?” I whipped around and gasped when I spotted a miniscule tear in the fabric by my elbow. My chance of impressing the Barbies was gone; they’d never go for someone who wasn’t immaculately dressed. “You moron!”

I shoved Cody with all my strength, which I’m sorry to say, isn’t much. He teetered on the edge of the curb and it was then I heard the rumble of the school bus coming towards us. I turned to look and out of the corner of my eye saw Cody tumble towards the middle of the street as he tried to regain his footing. My eyes widened and I felt my heart leap towards my mouth. “CODY! NOOOOO!”

It was too late. Cody disappeared under the wheels of the bus.

The Wheels of the Bus Go 'Round and 'Round

I’ll never forget those first few moments when I stared in horror at my best friend, who was now just a limp sock in the middle of the street. All sound receded. All I could hear was my heart thumping in my ears and faint echoes of my scream from when I saw the wheels roll over my buddy. The Barbies had all turned as one at my scream, and stood in a line at the curb, watching me as I took my first tentative steps towards my friend. There was no way he could have survived the flattening from the bus. I fell on my knees and screamed at the heavens, “No, no, no, no, no! Why Cody? Why Lord, did you take my best friend?” I was still sobbing on his limp chest when the Sock Sisters arrived and took me away.

The Devil You Meet

When I arrived at the funeral home with a pair of Cody’s best pants, I discovered the Sock Sisters had beat me to it. Kande was trying to wrestle Cody’s limp form into a new pair of black felt pants, while Heidi was arguing with her about using a Superman costume she’d found at the Build-A-Bear workshop in the mall. Truth was, Cody would have loved the Superman costume and while alive would have worn it to school under his school uniform. He was weird that way. If I’d been any kind of friend I would have dressed him in the smoking jacket as a final gesture– especially when I considered its part in his demise – but I was still oddly reluctant to part with it. The Barbies loved funerals, there was still a good chance I’d snag a sympathetic one.

The Sock Sisters stopped their babbling when they saw me standing there. Heidi’s eyes filled with tears, while Kande stepped back with her arms crossed across her chest.

“Oh, Stan,” Heidi hugged me until my stuffing squeaked in protest. She drew back so she could look me in the eyes. “It was an accident. You didn’t mean to murder Cody.”

I opened my mouth to tell her I was no murderer, but then sealed my lips together. It was true. I’d murdered my best friend, and for what? To impress a Barbie. I glanced over at Kande who looked a tad murderous herself.

“Is that a tear I see in your new smoking jacket?” she snarled, as she grabbed my elbow. “It is! This is why I try to stick to felt!” she informed Heidi, roughly shrugging me out of the jacket and taking out a needle and some thread.

“Oh please. As if the Socks couldn’t rip felt just as easily,” Heidi turned her back on her sister and adjusted the doll pillow under Cody’s body. The Sisters hadn’t had time to make a coffin, so they’d put him in a coffin-shaped lunchbox.

Kande bit off the thread with a snip from her protruding front teeth and handed me back the jacket. “Here. Good as new.”

I knotted the tie of the jacket tightly around my waist, and fingered the cigarette butt I’d tucked into the front pocket. I wanted to have some time alone with Cody’s body to tell him my regrets and say my good-byes. As if they’d read my mind, the sisters decided at that moment they were both hungry and needed some sustenance before the funeral.

“Don’t you forget to eat too, Stan,” Heidi wagged a finger in my face as she prepared to leave. “I’m sure Cody wouldn’t have wanted you to faint before you gave his eulegy.”

The room was silent after the sisters clattered their way down the hall. Too quiet. I wound my way slowly over to the coffin lunchbox and stared down at my best friend. I was so intent on trying not to sob, I didn’t even hear the stranger tiptoe over to me on silent sock feet.

“Looks like you’re going to miss him,” a smooth, melodious voice purred in my ear.

Startled, I jerked back to see who was talking to me. The stranger had a red sock body, horns and a tail, a black cape and a strip of black goatee dotting his chin. “Yeah…I, I am going to miss him.”

“What would you say if I told you it didn’t have to be this way? That you could have your friend back?” The stranger gave me an intense, bold stare as he said this, as if gauging my character.

“What do you mean? Look at him, he’s dead.” I swept my hand towards Cody’s limp sock body. “He’s beyond help.”

“He’s not beyond my help. “ The stranger informed me as he smoothed the goatee on his chin. He snapped his fingers and a little black sock dude materialized next to him. “Dave, give it to me.”

“Sure, Boss.” Dave’s bloodshot eyes appraised me as he lifted his stumpy arm and handed the red stranger something.

“Behold! The monkey’s paw!” the red guy intoned, flourishing the object beneath my nose while sweeping his cape behind him.

“Ack! Uncle Fester!” I covered my mouth in horror. I recognized that paw. Uncle Fester had lost it in the Battle of the Banana last November.

The red guy smacked his forehead. “Hell’s bells, Dave, why didn’t you think of that? Hand me something else.”

“Sure, Boss.” The little Black dude rummaged in his pockets and came up with something white and furry.

“Behold! The lucky rabbit’s foot!” the red guy began, once again shoving the object in my face.

“Gah! Binky!” I gaped in horror. I always wondered what had happened to our pet rabbit from my childhood. Obviously, these guys had a serious paw fetish.

The red guy threw Binky’s foot on the ground, stomped his feet, and gnashed his teeth. Then he started bitch slapping poor Dave. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, presentation is everything!” he screamed. “Now, get me something I can use.”

Dave mopped his face with an enormous hanky he pulled out of nowhere and started rummaging in his pockets. “Gee boss…” he stuttered.

“NOW!” the red guy thundered and to my amazement, shot a flash of flame from his pinky finger at Dave’s feet, while Dave did a passable imitation of the Rumba to escape the flames.

“Say…who are you guys?” I asked. I had my suspicions.

The red guy calmed down immediately. “I have hundreds of names…” he began.

“Enough with the small talk,” I informed him. “Let’s just call you Satan.” I turned to the little black dude who was still feverishly sorting through a pile of junk he’d compiled from turning out his pockets. “And you are…?”

“Oh! Demon Dave, at your service, Sir,” he told me, putting out a hand to shake mine.

Satan slapped his hand. “The jig’s up, Dave. He knows who we are. We’re not here to make friends, let’s get down to business.” He turned to me, rubbing his hands together. “What would you give me to have your friend come back to life?”

“What would I give you? What was up with all the dismembered body parts? Seems to me you were trying to give me something,” I spat at him.

Satan waved his hand. “Oh, those. I just need something to focus on when I bring Socks back to life. Dave, have you found anything yet?”

Dave looked triumphant. “I found a lucky charm marshmallow!”

Satan grabbed the stale, grubby marshmallow from Dave’s paw. “Hmmph. Guess that will have to do.“ He peered at me. “Do we have a deal?”

I crossed my arms. “What would I have to give you? I’m not handing over my soul.”

“Pshaw. You shoved your friend out in front of a bus. Your soul is as good as mine,” he squinted his eyes and looked thoughtful. “However…I don’t have a smoking jacket, and that’s a pretty snazzy one you’re wearing.” He came closer and fingered the fabric on the lapels. “Don’t you think I’d look pretty good wearing this in Hell, Dave?”

“You’d be hot, Boss.” Dave started snuffling and squeaking, and I realized this was his version of a laugh.

I looked down at my smoking jacket. I rubbed a loving paw down the length of it and sighed. I was the one who murdered Cody; I was the one who was responsible then for bringing him back to life. Still, I didn’t think Cody would have wanted me to forfeit my chance to date a Barbie. “No deal.”

Satan’s mouth dropped open. “What?! You defy the Prince of Darkness?” he roared.

I shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not like anyone really expects Cody to come back to life. Kande can always make me another buddy. Besides, this jacket is my only chance at snagging a Barbie.”

Satan started chortling and holding his sides. Dave hesitated, then started his snuffly, squeaky laugh too. Pretty soon the two of them were rolling on the floor next to the coffin.

“What’s so funny?” I asked. I was not amused. Getting laid isn’t as easy as it sounds for a Sock Monkey. The smoking jacket was my only chance.

Satan stood up, wiping his eyes on the hem of his cape. “Your soul is blacker than I thought. What if I brought your buddy back to life AND made you irresistible to babes?”

I instantly held out my paw. “It’s a deal.”

We shook and then Satan pointed the pinky finger again and the jacket was instantly transported to his body.

“Hey! What about our deal?” Satan laughed and pointed at the lunchbox casket. It was empty.
I panicked. “Where’s Cody? What did you do with him?”

“Boss! Help!” I whipped around to see Cody gnawing on Demon Dave’s leg. “Get him off me!” Demon Dave whipped his leg out of Cody’s maw and then patted at the slobber dripping down his ankle with his hanky. Cody stood blank-eyed and drooling next to him.

“Wait just a cotton-pickin’ minute. I thought you said you’d bring Cody back to life.”

Satan smirked. “I did. At least, he’s no longer dead.” Satan pranced out of my reach, preening in front of the coffin in his (my) smoking jacket.

“He’s a zombie.” I studied Cody somberly. Hmm. I’d be the first person in my class to have a zombie as his best buddy. As I watched Cody list sideways around the room, drooling and groaning, I realized that he’d be more like a pet. I could buy him a spiked collar and walk him around town on a dog leash. I turned back to Satan. “I have to admit this seems to have some cool possibilities.”

“Oh, it does. It certainly does.” Satan bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

We didn’t have time to explore this further when the doors opened and Socks and various other toys started pouring in for the funeral, followed by the Sock Sisters. As soon as they set foot in the door, babes from all directions started flying at me.

The problem was, they were “babes” in the true sense of the word. Baby dolls were coming at me from all directions.

Satan ducked as a Cabbage Patch doll came flying overhead and stuck to my body like glue. “Oops.”

The Sock Sisters wound up having to cancel the funeral, partly because there was no longer a body, but also because I’d become a risk to everyone around me.

The next morning I woke up with a wet spot in bed. A Betsy Wetsy doll was naked next to me, one hand held coyly to her mouth.

“AAAAHHHH!” I screamed. This babe magnet stuff was for the birds.

Meet the characters: Grunt and Jeremy

Grunt: Grunt (headhunter, and not the employee recruiting kind), and Jeremy (shrunken head) here. We know what you're thinking. Where are you guys from and how is it you're best friends? Well, here's our story. I'm originally from Iowa and Jeremy is from Minnesota. Midwestern guys, that's what we are.

Jeremy: We met as freshmen in college when we were assigned as roommates. Grunt was attending on a physics scholarship, while I was trying to make the football team as a walk-on. During spring break of our sophomore year, while everyone else was headed to Florida (yawn), we decided to reenact Gilligan's Island. We set sail during a storm and washed up on shore. Turned out to be in Fort Lauderdale, so we spent spring break in Florida after all.

Grunt: Anyway, I lost my books during the storm so went to a used book store to find something to read. Feeling adventurous, I closed my eyes, stuck my hand in the bargain bin, and pulled out a book about the secret to shrinking heads. That night, while Jeremy was passed out in a drunken stupor, I tried it out. It worked! That was so cool! Except now Jeremy was just a shrunken head. Not wanting to leave my best friend alone in such a state, I attached a bone to my upper lip, dressed in a loin cloth, and suspended Jeremy over a pot of boiling water.

Jeremy: I wasn't too happy when I woke up. I knew I'd never make the football team now. How can I punt when I'm just a head? But when I saw what Grunt had done in solidarity, all was forgiven.

Grunt: I felt bad that Jeremy hasn't been able to live out his dream as a division III punter, but I think it's all worked out. Kind of hard to shave around this bone, though.

The Socks Break Out

“But how can we get out?” Demon Dave asked plaintively. “They’d see us if we tried to get out the door.”

“That is a stumper,” his boss admitted, after cuffing Dave on the head for being whiny. “Stan, any ideas?”

The Sock Monkey rubbed a paw over the bald pate of his head. Everyone looked at him expectantly; he was usually the first Sock to come up with a course of action. And yet, nothing came to mind. The doors were monitored, the windows had screens, and he had yet to find a mouse hole.

“Maybe we could con the demon child into taking one of us out? And then that Sock could let the others out?” Stan knew it was a lame idea as soon as it came out of his mouth.

“Are you cuckoo for cocoa puffs?” Satan asked in disbelief. “Who’s going to volunteer to go outside with that nut job? She’d dismember first, and lie about it later.”

Demon Dave had turned gray when Stan mentioned his idea and his usual sooty color came back as soon as Satan dismissed it. He’d been afraid they’d send him with Demon child. Just because they called her Demon child and he was a demon was where any resemblance between the two ended. He was evil because he was a demon. She was evil because she enjoyed it. This was a huge, mongo difference. One didn’t enjoy demonhood, one endured it.

Just then, the front door flew open and Kande stepped in with a laundry basket. “Whoa. This house is filthy. Did someone have a party where I wasn’t invited?”

Satan sniffed. “We’ve never invited you to a party, and yet you continue to show up like the bad seed you are.”

Kande scowled at him. “Keep talking smack and I won’t leave my laundry. Where’s my Sis?”

“I’m right here.” Heidi tiptoed gingerly into the room, moving ankle-deep through the debris the Socks had continued to scatter throughout their debate. “What do you mean, you’re leaving your laundry? Do YOU think I’m the maid too?”

“The S.O. is in Alaska,” Kande whined. “She usually does my laundry.”

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” Heidi sighed. “Fine. The Socks will carry it piece by piece into the laundry room.”

A chorus of ‘Are you crazy? Us work?’ breaks out.

Heidi holds up a hand. “Either you do as I ask, or the pizza gravy train ends here.”

Stan and Satan led the Socks into grabbing myriad pieces of Kande’s laundry and trailing toward the laundry room. Several of them had to be carried once they got a whiff of her socks. The Sock Sisters watched them making their sorry way out of the room.

Kande turned towards Heidi. “You feed them pizza gravy? No wonder they’re all looking like they’ve put on some junk in the trunk.”

As the sisters squabble about the Socks’ diet and resulting lumpiness, Stan and Satan led the crew into the laundry room.

“If you push me up, I can get into the washing machine and you can toss up the laundry,” Stan informed the assembled crew, turning tail first toward the group and waiting expectantly.

Satan sighed. “OK, get on my shoulders.”

Stan expertly clambered up while Satan staggered beneath his weight. “Oh my aching shoulders, you weigh a ton for a sock.”

Stan’s retort was muffled when he fell headfirst into a jumble of wet clothes. Finally, he emerged. “Crap, there’s a bunch of clothes in here we’re going to have to transfer to the dryer.”

Heidi suddenly popped her head in, scaring half the Socks into fainting fits. “I forgot to tell you, there’s damp clothes in the washer that you’ll need to transfer to the dryer.” She disappeared again.

Satan threw up his hands. “Good night, that woman is treating us like household slaves. “ He went down when Stan threw a sopping wet pair of jeans on him.

“Boss! Boss! Are you OK?” Demon Dave struggled to lift the jeans off his sprawled employer while the muffled cursing caused his cheeks to burn red.

Satan managed to struggle from beneath the jeans in spite of Demon Dave’s fumbled attempts at help. “Well. Now I suppose we’re somehow supposed to lift these into the dryer?” he spat, looking up at the dryer door. To a Sock, the door stood a whole head over the tallest Sock. He sighed. “Demon Dave, Mabel, get over here and give me a boost. And put down that rosary!” he barked at Mabel. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Satan put his foot on their joined hands, and the two boosted him up to the dryer opening. “Hey, there’s a hole back here!” he shouted down to the Socks.

Stan stopped throwing wet clothes out of the washer. “Really? Where does it go?”

“I don’t know.” Satan’s voice came out of the dryer, oddly distorted. “I’m going to check it out.”

The assembled Socks wait patiently at first, and then grow increasingly agitated as the minutes ticked by. Demon Dave’s eyes welled with tears. “Boss?” he called tremulously. “Boss!”

“Shhhh!” Stan jumped out of the washer and listened intently. “There’s a tapping noise. Hear it?”

The group all strained to hear. Sure enough, there was a noise that sounded suspiciously like someone pounding on a window, hoarsely screaming for them to ‘look up, look up, damnit!’

Runaway Socks

“Honeys, I’m home!” Heidi sang out as she attempted to step into the house after a long tedious day at work. “What the he--!” She turned the knob, but the door wouldn’t budge. She shoved harder on the door and it finally started to move inch by inch. She threw her whole weight behind it and the door flew open, causing her to sprawl face first onto the filthy kitchen floor. The pile of tiny shoes, toys, debris, and dishes that had been stashed behind the door fell on top of her.

“Oof. Ew. Sticky.” Heidi pulled her head up with a sucking sound, and carefully looked around her. There were papers on every flat surface, and dishes piled a foot high around the sink. Dirt from a broken pot and some strewn leaves were in a corner and toys were thrown everywhere. She peeked around the corner to see the socks all staring blankly at a show on TV. They were hemmed in by pop bottles, empty ice cream containers, and piles of crumpled up chip bags.

“Enough with those stupid Kadashians, already,” she fumed as she crawled across the floor and jabbed the remote viciously at the screen. “They’re stupid, ill-behaved people, and I can’t believe you guys have been sucked into that stupid show.”

“Nice juicy ass on the one,” Satan retorted, making an obscene gesture with his hands.

“I’m fascinated with Bruce Jenner myself,” Stan admitted, as he sucked the last drop from a juice box and tossed it over his shoulder. Heidi stared at him, speechless for once. Stan saw her staring and misinterpreted her dismay. “I know, I know! He shouldn’t be that interesting, but I can’t quite correlate the Olympic star with that guy on TV.”

Heidi jabbed a finger at the juice box, and the other pile of garbage that littered the floor. “Don’t you guys ever pick up after yourselves?”

Satan shrugged. “I thought that’s what you were for.” Demon Dave glanced at his boss and inched away from him when he noticed Heidi’s puce face.

“You think I’m your maid?” Heidi asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Satan still hadn’t noticed the danger signs. “Humans, my dear, have always been in service to the Lord of Darkness, the King of Despair. In other words…moi. So yes, I guess that means you could legitimately be called a maid. Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow!”

Heidi had picked up Satan by a non-existent ear and was shaking him wildly.

“I.am.not.the.maid.” she enunciated loudly and clearly. She glanced around the group, all who were watching in shocked silence and holding on to any protruding body parts in case Heidi got another wild hair and started grabbing willy-nilly. “Everyone clear on that?” They nodded. “Good. Clean this mess up.”

She tossed Satan onto the couch and disappeared into her bedroom. “ARGH!” they heard her scream and then a blessed silence, marred only by the occasional curse and banging of objects.

Satan sat above the others on the couch, rubbing his swollen head. “Honestly, the nerve of her. She is SO going to Hell for that.”

Demon Dave decided it was now safe to support his boss. “Yeah. Who does she think she is?”

Mabel held her rosary tight to her chest and looked around the room. Cookie crumbs were scattered all over the room from the food fight the Socks had held earlier. “It is a tad messy,” she admitted.

Stan jumped up from where he was sitting against a torn cushion from their earlier pillow fight, AFTER the food fight. “What does she expect? She leaves us alone all day, we’ve got to do something to amuse ourselves. And we ARE socks, it’s not like we have the strength to run the vacuum.”

There’s a few muttered “Hear, hear!” and “Yeah, who does she think she is?” among the group. KS offers to take Heidi down.

“Let’s not be too hasty,” Stan holds out his paws towards the group. “We don’t want to assassinate her, but maybe we could teach her a lesson.”

Grunt the cannibal and Jeremy immediately got excited. “A cooking lesson?”

Satan hopped down from his perch so that he was among the group. “After the 4th of July incident, where she left me to be dressed like a Barbie, I’ve been thinking maybe we don’t need the Sock Sisters.”

There was a prolonged silence after this statement. Finally, one of the smaller socks got up the nerve to ask the question they all wanted to know. “But…where would we get our food?”

Grunt held up his spear. “We could hunt! I’ve got a spear, and KS has all kinds of weaponry.”

KS pointed to the toolbelt around her waist. She had guns, knives, a length of rope, handcuffs, a chainsaw, and a teeny-tiny cat. She pulled up her pants legs to reveal more guns and knives. It soon becomes clear that not only does she have weaponry stashed in every conceivable crevice, but she’s also a weapon herself as she demonstrated her martial arts and biting skills.

Demon Dave rubbed liniment on a couple of socks that were bitten during the demonstration. “OK, so where would we go?”

Stan waved them all the the window and pointed to the wooded area in the backyard. “We’ll camp out over there. That way, we can raid the house if we need anything. And Heidi and Kande can look out and see what they’re missing. I.E., us!”

“Stan, you the man,” Satan said, rubbing his hands together. “Lead the way, dear monkey. Lead the way.”

Thus, the mass sock exodus had begun.

Meet the characters: Stan Lee Redbottom

My name is Stan Lee Redbottom, the playboy sock monkey. This photo was taken by the paparazzi that follow my every move. Oh, to be a celebrity today is a burden! All I was trying to do was to take some time off with my Barbie friends. A little drink, a little sun...is it my fault the Barbies decided to undress? I thought it was a bit chilly that day, which is why I'm wearing my snazzy smoking jacket.

When I'm not cavorting with the ladies, I spend my time at the home of the elder Kande Sister, along with some of my sock buddies, like Demon Dave and Scissors. You'll meet them later. They are a couple of characters, let me tell ya! Ha ha! Ah, the stories I could tell...

So a little about me. I was born in a mini-van, somewhere in the state of Iowa. I was quite happy with my intellectual pursuits until I received the smoking jacket in the mail a few weeks later. I immediately abandoned my research into creating an affordable alternative fuel and took up martinis and cigars. And the ladies. You've read the rest in People.

The Socks 4th of July

(The names in this story have been left out, to protect the people who thought I needed psychiatric treatment, BECAUSE THEY ARE WRONG.)

Stan, Satan, and Demon Dave were in the back of the van, doing a jig and singing. “We’re going to a PAR-TAY,” they chanted in rap rhythm. Stan was doing the head bop, Satan was doing a smooth swing, and Dave was workin’ a booty pop and pointing the occasional finger gun. Cody just shambled next to the trio, doing his own thing.

“Pipe down!” Heidi shouted back at them as she swerved to miss a biker. “I’m trying to drive up here. “ She craned her neck to look into the rearview mirror. “And sit on your bottoms and put your seat belts on.”

“Sit on your bottoms,” Satan grumbled as he finished snapping the seatbelt into place over the four of them. “I’m the Prince of Darkness. One doesn’t ever refer to my ‘bottom.’ And,” he said loudly, “one asks nicely.”

Heidi waved her hand at him. “Whatever.”

Heidi’s children and the Librarian just shook their heads. They were used to Heidi ranting and mumbling beneath her breath. They couldn’t understand why she felt it necessary to bring the four sock critters to the party with her, but were scared to ask. She had said something about introducing the critters to her writer friends. The three of them peered back at the sock critters, crowded together in one seat.

The sock critters looked back at them blankly. They saw no reason to be animated for every human they knew. Most children saw through their ‘toy’ façade, but the adults rarely did. Heidi and Kande – the Sock Sisters – were unique in that ability. (It also raised a question as to whether or not the two actually qualified as “adults.”)

Suddenly, Heidi stepped on the brake, causing everyone to jerk in their seats. “We’re here,” she announced as she pulled into the driveway of an old farm house. The group could see people wandering around with chairs and food around a couple of plank picnic tables.

The Librarian and the children collected the food and chairs from the van, while Heidi gathered the sock critters. “No arguing,” she whispered to them as she smoothed down hair and clothing, “and no fussing.”

“I don’t see any Barbies,” Stan said, as he attempted to peer around Heidi. “What’s a party without Barbies?”

Heidi sighed. “Just get your brain out of the gutter for once, would you? My friends want to meet you.”

“Would your friends happen to be Barbies?”
“No!” Heidi snapped. “They would not! “

Stan crossed his arms with a mutinous look on his face. Dave looked worried, Cody looked his usual vacant self, but Satan looked interested.

“Would your friends, by chance, be evil incarnate?” he asked. “As in… anyone I know?”

“Good question,” Heidi said and glanced furtively around. “Is there anyone here you know?” So I can avoid them, she thought to herself. Who wants to buddy up to a sociopath?

Satan looked around and then sighed. “No, they’re all strangers.”

“Good. I mean, poo,” Heidi said as she carried the foursome over to a grouping of chairs where sat two women and a man. “Hey guys, I brought sock critters.”

The man looked worried, but the brown-haired woman sitting next to him patted his knee. “Don’t worry, she writes about them.”

Heidi stooped and arranged the sock critters in a chair. “This is Stan Lee Redbottom, my sock monkey. This one is his best friend, Cody the zombie, and this is Satan and his henchman Demon Dave. Say hi to the nice people, guys.”

The sock critters stared blankly straight ahead and remained as she had arranged them except for Cody, who sloped over until his face was on his knees. Heidi jerked him upright. “What are you doing?” she hissed at the four. “Make nice right this instant. Stop acting like you’re dolls.”

The women and the man looked at Heidi, at each other, and back to the sock critters.
“What do you call someone who speaks to sock critters?” asked the man.

“Delusional,” said the blonde under her breath.

The brown-haired woman looked worried. “She looks so normal…” she began.

“But she’s definitely not,” finished the blonde. “No, indeedy.”

Heidi flushed. She put her hands on her hips and her face right up to the sock critters. “Say hello NOW.”

“Show me the Barbies first,” Stan whispered furiously without moving a yarn on his little socky head.

“You can’t make us talk to them,” Satan gloated, his beady black eyes steady. Fortunately for Stan and Satan, Heidi’s petite rumpus blocked her friends’ view, so they didn’t notice the sock rebellion.

“Heidi, I think you’ve had too much sun,” the two women took an arm each and propelled Heidi into the house. The man shook his head and wandered over to another group where he started gesturing toward the sock critters.

The sock critters were all for celebrating their victory by hopping down and helping themselves to the beer when they realized two children were standing in front of them.

“You moved, I saw you,” the boy said to Demon Dave. “I bet you’re hungry.” He jammed a hot dog into Demon Dave’s mouth before the little demon could say anything.

The girl eyed the remaining three, dug into her backpack, and pulled out a naked Barbie. Stan’s eyes lit up. “We’ll play dolls!” the girl announced happily.

An hour later, Heidi strolled over to pick up the sock critters. She carried Cody tightly tucked beneath her arm. “Fun’s over,” she told the other three as she picked them up. “You guys were supposed to be keeping an eye on Cody, I found him in the garden terrorizing field mice.”

“Dude,” Stan said, waving his paw over his nose as Heidi crushed him next to Cody. “You have mouse breath.” Cody just continued with his steady drool, a mouse whisker matted next to his mouth.

“That was excruciating,” Satan huffed as Heidi tucked the four of them back into their car seat. “I’m wearing a tiara.” He ripped it off and threw it, and then wriggled his way out of the Barbie ballgown. “I don’t know how those Barbies wear these hideous things.”

“At least you had clothes on.” Stan said forlornly. “I was mushed up against that Barbie and I couldn’t perform. “ The others gasp. “Because it was in front of a child, you ninnies! “ He slumped up against the chair and put his paw over his eyes. “My reputation is ruined.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Heidi chided. “The Barbies at home don’t know about your bout of monkey morals.”

“You obviously know nothing about Barbies,” Satan informed her. “They share a universal mind. What one Barbie knows, they all know.” Stan nodded his head glumly in agreement and slumped lower.

“Ouch.” Heidi grimaced. “Well, I’m sure then they’ll all know you couldn’t perform for moral reasons.”

“They’re not that deep,” Stan groaned. “And they have no morals. “

“And you.” Heidi poked Demon Dave into his weirdly distended belly. Dave promptly threw up on Satan. “Ew. I was going to ask you what you were doing, but it now seems obvious.”

“Sorry boss.” Demon Dave gestured weakly at Satan, who is looking down at his lap with his mouth open in astonishment and disgust. “That kid made me eat five hotdogs, two helpings of potato salad, six different desserts, and a daddy longlegs. Oh look, the spider’s still alive.”

The spider was gingerly making its way out of the goop covering Satan’s torso. Satan growled and crushed it in one little sock fist. “Not any more, it’s not. “

Heidi dabbed ineffectively at the vomit with a used Kleenex, gave up, and handed the Kleenex to Stan to finish the job. “Well, I hope you guys have learned your lesson today. This is what you get for ignoring me in front of my friends. Thanks to the four of you, they now think I’m psychotic.”

“Oh please, they already thought that. You can’t blame your mental state on us,” Satan archly informed her. He wrestled the used Kleenex away from Stan, who was smearing the vomit further and lit it on fire with his pinkie finger. He then pointed the finger at his torso and muttered something in Latin. The vomit disappeared and was replaced with a tuxedo.

“They may have thought it, but now they have proof. You’re just lucky they didn’t decide to have me committed then and there. What would have happened to the four of you?” Heidi ignored the tuxedo trick. She’d seen Satan do that little parlor trick before, and it had lost its appeal. She supposed she should consider herself lucky his powers were limited when he was in sock form.

The four sock critters looked at each other. What would they do without the Sock Sisters? Would life even be worth living? Or would it be better? It might be time to find out.

Bubba Gets His Revenge

"I can't believe you slimed me," Heidi sputtered to Bubba, as they slopped their way up the steps from the basement. Heidi is dripping green globules, and her hair is plastered to her head in a most unbecoming fashion. "That's so 'Ghostbusters.' Aliens don't slime, they..."

Bubba makes a hand gesture. Heidi paled.

"No, I most certainly would NOT have preferred to have been probed! Ghostbuster tactics are just fine," she snapped.

Bubba rubbed his bulbous head. Actually, what he asked had been would she have preferred splinters beneath her nails. This was a wonderful technique that KS, the little assassin sock, had told him about in great detail. It was just that when Bubba went down to the basement to enact his revenge on Heidi for taking the cat out of his mouth, she'd looked so pathetic spread-eagled beneath a large plaster of wallpaper that he'd taken pity on her. Hence, only the sliming.

Honestly, humans were lame. Probing was so 70's.

The Socks Hold a Wedding Shower

"Where the heck is Heidi?" Kande asks irritably, looking at her watch for the umpteenth millionth time. "I want to open some presents."

Kande is sitting on her forest green couch, surrounded by socks. Some are perched precariously on the back of the couch, while others huddle near her feet.

"Open ours first!" pipe up Grunt the Cannibal and Jeremy his tiny shrunken headed friend.

"No, he should open up Cal's first," Mabel butted between the two, knocking Jeremy head-first into the ranch dip. She gingerly picks him out, taking her little finger and wiping off the dip inside one ear. "They go together, remember?"

Kande is sceptical. Cal is a Cadaver sock, and his mother, Mabel, is forever speaking on his behalf. In fact, half the time she was the one moving him around too. When would Cal ever get out from under his mother's influence? But...she is here to open presents, after all. Too bad her S.O. stayed back in California to hang out with her sister another week. And speaking of sisters...

"Don't you think I should wait for Heidi? The shower was her idea." The question was rhetorical. Kande is already tearing into Cal's gift. "It's a...what is it exactly, Cal?"

Grunt speaks for Cal. "It's a length of his intestine!"

Kande drops the snaky thing back in the box. "Gee, what a personal gift. I'm not sure I should accept, he might need some of that." Then she remembers. "And you said your gift went with it?"

Grunt shoves his and Jeremy's gift into her hands. "Open it! Open it!" All the socks take up the cry. "Open it! Open it!"

Outnumbered, Kande feels she has no choice but to open the gift, which she does very carefully. There's no stench. And no obvious blood. Perhaps it's not anything to do with body parts. But alas, she'd jumped to conclusions too soon.

"It's uh...um...glutinous," she manages.

"It's the stomach contents of a vegetarian," Grunt gushes. "Jeremy and I know you don't eat meat, so we thought it would be perfect. And he didn't feel a thing, did he Jeremy?"

Kande's face is an interesting shade of green. "And you thought this would go with a length of intestine, how? No, no, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

More presents follow, thankfully containing no body parts or a body's contents. The rosary Mabel gave her is given a spot on the coffee table carefully away from the gaggle of demons Satan brought to the party with him.

Kande gives her watch another glance. "For Pete's sake! Where is my sister?"

There's a 'huh, huh, huh" sound behind her. Turning to look, she sees Satan's prime henchman Dave doubled over, grunting out a laugh in his gravelly voice. "Are you laughing, Dave?"

"Oh, hoo," Dave grunts out. "Where's your sister? You should ask the Boss. It's a good one, aint it Boss?"

Kande's head swivels to glare at Satan, who is studiously studying his fingernails. "She was bringing the cake, you big dark doofus. It's devil's food."

Satan throws up his little sock hands. "Oh hell and damnation! Dave, why didn't you tell me she was in charge of the cake?"

Dave stops giggling and looks dumbfounded. "But I thought what you did was your gift for Kande."

"Oh well, it is, but had I known she was bringing cake, I would have delayed it."

Kande stands and towers over the two. Actually, she towers over them while sitting and while lying down. "What have you done?"

Satan points at the phone, which promptly rings. "Hello?"

Kande hears a tinny voice at the other end of the line. "Hi Sis! Happy Wedding Shower Day!"

Kande's lips thin (even thinner than usual). "Where are you? And why aren't you here? And where's my cake?"

"Oh, well, you know how career counselors always tell you if you can't imagine your ideal job, you should at least outline your Hell job? Well, that's where I am. In Hell."

"Satan sent you to Hell?"

"Oh no, my boss did that."

"So what makes it Hell?"

"Oh..." Heidi hesitates, then it all comes out in a rush. "I'm in the basement wallpapering the auditor's office and I'm all wrapped up."

"Get unwrapped up and get over here. With my cake!"

"You don't understand. I'm literally wrapped up. You know, me, glue, wallpaper, a bad case of being unable to measure...it was a disaster in the making."

Kande closes her eyes. She gets it, all right. Heidi has managed to wallpaper over herself. She glares at the little demon minions who are high-fiving each other all over the coffee table, hopping around like fleas. Occasioanlly, one comes into contact with the rosary and disappears into a puff of smoke.

"I'll send someone right over. Bubba!"

Bubba's eyes light up. He still hadn't forgiven Heidi for taking away the cat when Kande was gone. Now's his big chance to get even.

Kande Gets Married

Heidi arrives at Kande's house with a sock crew in tow. Jiggling the lock with a wirepick she happened to borrow from KS -- the assassin sock -- she manages to break the doorknob and then kicks in the door.

"OK gang," She says an hour later, once she'd managed to get her foot extracted from the bottom of the screen door she'd kicked to splinters. "We're here on a reconnaissance. Bubba should be around here somewhere."

All the socks knew Bubba, the little alien Kande had taken in and treated like a slave when his spaceship had crashed in the poison ivy haven that was her backyard. It was Bubba who had nursed them through the initial shock of being sewn into being, and Bubba who released them into independence in Sockville when Kande would have preferred to turn them into sweatshop socks. All the socks carried the "Intergalactic Guide to Alien Hand Gestures" so they could communicate with Bubba. Both Kande and Heidi knew that Bubba used hand signals to communicate, but they preferred instead to intuit what he meant rather than sit down and memorize the book. This had led to many disastrous and occasionally hilarious miscommunications. Bubba actually preferred the ignorance, as it made his quest to take over the world easier.

"Bubba! Oh, Bubba Lou! Where are you?" Heidi warbled as she gingerly stepped over the sock guts, thread, and needles that were strewn all over the floor. "This is weird," she muttered to herself. "It looks like there was a massacre in here."

The socks remained by the door. It was looking more and more like a crimescene. It was a good thing that Kande and her S.O. had travelled to California to get married. No telling what would have happened to them if they'd stayed.

"Hey!" Heidi turned around and saw the socks huddling by the door. "Bubba won't eat you guys," she said soothingly. "He just eats cats." Her eyes widened. The cats! Of course Bubba would have gone after the cats. She strode to the door in two steps and started shoving socks towards entryways. "Shoo! Go! Search! I think Bubba's made a mess going after the cats."

The socks scattered. Several of them went to play basketball with the monkeys. A few of them started doing resuscitation efforts on one of Kande's bike socks laying by the couch. After a few minutes of enduring the stench, they all started reeling and gasping, falling on their backs on the floor. Heidi watched for a moment, shaking her head. "Oh for Pete's sake. I'll find Bubba by myself."

Suddenly, a shout is heard. "He's in here! I found him!" Heidi and the socks rush into the bedroom, where Bubba is lying on the bed wearing Kande's robe and a cat tail starting to disappear into his little mouth. Heidi grabbed him and started shaking him violently.

"Spit it out, you little green viper!" Bubba made a hurling sound and a very wet and very angry cat is hurled across the room, scattering the socks like bowling pins.

"Ooh, just wait until I get you home," Heidi growls at the little alien.

Stan Lee Redbottom

Kande and her S.O. agree to meet up with Heidi and the Librarian and their two children at a family reunion in Ft. Madison, Iowa.

"I know!" Kande excitedly tells her S.O. "I'll make Heidi a sock monkey! Won't she be surprised? And it will be 1,000 times cuter than any other ol' monkey because it will be my work of art."

"Whatever," her S.O. said. She was busy downloading Wilco music onto her ipod.

Later, Kande gazed at awe at her newest masterpiece. "I will call you Stan," she informed the sock monkey.

'What a sucky name,' thought the monkey. 'How will I make it with any girls with the name Stan? I sound like an actuary.'

Kande went out to pack the car and load the bikes onto the rack. At the last minute, she tossed Stan into the rearview mirror, only bringing him out so he could watch her eat piece after piece of banana cream pie at every little pie joint from D.C. to Iowa.

'Sadist,' thought Stan as he watched Kande pork out. 'If she eats any more, she'll burst out of her bike shorts.' This thought immediately cheered him up.

Kande and her S.O. FINALLY limped into the parking lot of the hotel. The car had blown a radiator hose just as they'd reached town. Kande couldn't wait to show Heidi Stan.

"Here!" she shouted, thrusting the hapless monkey into the arms of his new owner.

"Oh, he's so cute!" Heidi cooed. Stan immediately forgave her the cooing, recognizing a favored child when he saw one. And so nice! And so attractive her ownself! And so modest -- never would she go on and on about herself in a blogpost. Anyhoo. "What's his name?" she asked Kande.

"Stan. It fits him, don't you think?" Stan shot Kande his dirtiest look, but naturally it went right over her pie-laden head.

"Stanley," Heidi mused.

"Stan." Kande corrected her. "Not Stanley. Stan."

"He's my monkey. I'll name him Stan Lee Redbottom. He's showing his red bottom, which I think among monkeys means he's horny."

"My sock critters do NOT get horny," Kande informed her between gritted teeth.

Heidi cocked an eyebrow. "I beg to differ, dear sister."

Stan was both embarrassed and pleased. Embarrassed that his horniness could be seen so clearly. And pleased, because maybe now, Dear God, he could get laid. Surely there was a female sock critter somewhere?

Kande reached over to grab Stan out of her sister's arms when a little finger reached out and poked her in the nose. "You a boy."

"Eek! Demon Child!" Kande jumped on a chair and continued her girlish shrieking. Every time she saw her youngest child she threatened Kande. She was also the author and singer of the infamous song, "What Happens When You Die" which their father had taped and sent out to her. She gave Kande the heebie-jeebies.

She gave Stan the heebie-jeebies too. She fixed her bright blue gaze on him and snatched him from her mother, who thankfully snatched him right back. "Stan is mine. You have your toys, Stan is mine."

Stan smiled. At last! He was a boy toy.

And so it begins...

Kande sighed as she watched the Mystics on a cold, dreary Saturday. She picked lint off the couch and then pretended to pick it off her Significant Other (S.O.)

"Knock it off," her S.O. told her as she tried to concentrate on her laptop. She shifted irritably when Kande tried to get her to rub the top of her shorn head. "What's your problem?"

Kande threw herself sideways onto the couch. "I'm bored," she whined. "I don't have anything to do. And I already TiVo'ed this game."

"The dishes need to be washed," her S.O. informed her archly. Honestly, Kande never stirred her stumps to do any housework. She inclined her head towards the kitchen, where stacks of cutlery and plates were leaning precariously.

"Don't wanna." Kande stuck out her lower lip. She wanted to do something fun. She wanted to do something interesting. She did NOT want to do anything that even vaguely looked like work. She was no dummy, if doing dishes were fun there would be no stacks.

"Fine." Her S.O. carefully put the laptop down on the coffee table. "I have something you might like." She heaved herself off the couch and walked over to her desk and rummaged around in the top drawer. She glanced over at Kande who was watching her expectantly and took a deep breath and tossed a package in the general direction of the couch. Kande snagged it deftly out of mid-air before it crashed into the laptop.

"What's this?" She read the label. "A sock monkey?"

"Yes. Although..." her S.O. slanted her eyes towards Kande and then back at the laptop. "You know, maybe it's not such a good idea. I know you're not domestically inclined." She sighed. "In fact, maybe you should just give it back and I'll send it to your sister. She could probably make it. I don't think you're capable."

Kande glared at her. She was capable, she was sure of it. Sure, it involved socks, and needles, and cotton batting but she'd grown up with a seamstress mother. Nobody was going to tell Kande she wasn't capable. No way, no how. She looked at the label with the picture of a sock monkey and studies it for a moment. She could make a monkey that was ten times cuter than that insipid goon.

Ten weeks later, she called her sister Heidi. "Guess what I'm doing."

"Picking your toes?"

"No! I'm making sock monkeys."

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Excuse me, did you say you were making something? Sock Monkeys? Are you delusional?"

Kande scowled at the phone. "I'm capable. I can handle needles, and socks, and cotton batting."

"Huh. Do they look like sock monkeys?"

"Of course they look like sock monkeys! But I'm getting bored with sock monkeys, I need to branch out. Show off my talent."

On the other end of the line, Heidi looked at the phone incredulously. "Your talent? Just how many monkeys have you made?"

"Um...enough that I had to build a special shelf for all of them. Maybe 20 or so?"

Heidi dropped the phone and then picked it back up. "You made 20 sock monkeys? I don't believe it! Send me one..."

And that's when it all began.