TIMING: current LOCATION: felix's boiler room PARTIES: @zombiebabysitter, @gossipsnake, @ariadnewhitlock, @notstinky, & @recoveringdreamer SUMMARY: a group of rhyming allies come together to break a curse. CONTENT WARNINGS: descriptions and discussion of snakes eating
The rhyming had become⌠almost fun, if Felix was being entirely honest with themself. There was something kind of entertaining about it, even if it was technically a curse. It didnât seem to be hurting anything and, as a bonus, it seemed to annoy Leo enough that heâd been avoiding conversation with them. If it were only Felix cursed, they might have just⌠let it continue for a while. But they were pretty sure some of their friends were getting tired of it, and it didnât seem fair to subject all of them to a life of rhyming just because Felix didnât mind it.Â
So, theyâd called together a strategy session. A few of the people who were cursed â and no one who wasnât. The last thing they wanted was to spread this thing even further, so it seemed way safer to only include people already involved. It wasnât like someone could be cursed twice, right?Â
The boiler room was a little cramped, not really meant to house this many people at once, but that was okay. They wouldnât be in here long, hopefully. Felix had set the glass orange in the center of the room, like they all might need a reminder about why they were gathered here today. He squinted at it suspiciously from where he sat on the single office chair, elbows on his knees and hands folded and propping up their chin.Â
âWe need a plan of action,â Felix announced. âSo far, nothing weâve tried has had any real reaction. It canât be broken. And once youâve touched it, rhymes must be spoken. But every curse has to have an out. I think we all know that without a doubt. So, what should we do? I want to hear from all of you.â
â
As far as Charlie was concerned, rhyming kinda fucking rocked. He had been a lyric-writing machine as of late, speaking the words aloud and then writing them on paper if they sounded good. Yeah, Finn was annoyed any time Charlie opened his mouth to speak to him, seeing as how everything that came out of his mouth was a fucking rhyme, but that wasnât his fault. How was he supposed to know that ugly as sin Faberge egg was cursed with a rhyme scheme curse?
So thatâs how heâd ended up in Felixâs boiler room apartment after a shift at the pit, tired and a little out of sorts. Charlie looked around at the others in the room, then let out a sigh. âWell as far as Iâm concerned, thereâs nothing that weâve learned. Weâre stuck in a rhyme which is, as far as Iâm concerned? A total fucking crime. But also, Iâve been writing a lot and I feel kinda like a robot. So I can go either way, I write music by day.â He shrugged his shoulders.
As far as Charlie was concerned, this was a gift. He was able to write his music and not have to wrack his brain for rhyme schemes when he was cursed to do it automatically. It was great! Heâd written so many songs in such a short amount of time that he was allotting himself a break after all this was cleared up.Â
__
Thea had found a nice patch of damp for herself, tucked against the wall of Felixâs possibly still rat-infested boiler room. For hundreds of years, humans had been rhyming (probably, Thea had done no real research regarding the topic). But the couplet itself dates back to like, the medieval era, right? (She really shouldâve googled) Regardless, Thea felt connected to her poetry slinging ancestors in that she was certain she had poetry slinging ancestors. Really, could anyone confirm that she wasnât related to William Shakespeare? The rhymes said otherwise. There was a history of art she was connected to; a history of verse and meter and kids teasing each other on the playground rhyming âfartâ with âsmartâ. It was all really normal, when she thought about it.Â
Still, her ability to hold conversations was severely impaired and that ability was struggling before the rhyming. âWhat if the answer is a visual enhancer? Perhaps the answer isâŚmore advancer than basic thinking?â Thea had been testing the bounds of the rhymes; as long as they existedâslant, couplet, alternate, ballade, enclosed, triplet, limerick, villanelleâthe form didnât matter. âHickory Dickory Dockâ was as valid to her tongue as âI shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again (I think I made you up inside my head)â. She wasnât surprised that this had led to creativity for Charlie. âIâm pinking.â Thea brought her cold hands to her hot face; it was hard to say what she was about to but the truth was clear to her.Â
âI-It might be that state of head clear, so-called.â Thea gestured to her hair (which was growing in nicely!). âThat state of bald to which I was once appalled; in case any here recalled. That is to say, to our problem enthralled, perhaps we all must go bald?âÂ
â
The English language was complex and often confusing as a non-native speaker; and that was without being cursed to rhyme anytime one opened their mouth. Of course, as Anita had learned, the rhyming wasnât limited to speaking in English. Spanish was a much more beautiful language and lent itself better to forced rhyming in her opinion. But in this strange grouping of Felixâs friends, Spanish was not a realistic option. Despite her usual propensity to yap she had resigned to being slightly more silent to try and avoid having to rhyme. Being forced to do anything, even something as simple as rhyming, was not something she had interest in. It had grown old and at least in silence Anita felt like she was in control.Â
Both people who had spoken so far seemed strange and Anita didnât know them much at all. When the one sitting against the wall suggested they all go bald, Anitaâs face scrunched into a disgusted frown as her eyes rolled to the side in the direction of the woman. âNo, we are not entertaining that for one moment; and I surely hope I am not that suggestionâs only opponent.âÂ
Moving somewhat suddenly from where she was standing near Felix, Anita picked up the orange egg from the table and threw it against a wall on the other side of the small boiler room with all her strength. It, of course, didnât break. Theyâd tried that many times before. She sighed, walked over to pick it up in defeat and then placed it back in the center of the room where it had been. âIt doesnât break. And nothing happens when you feed it to a very large snake. I donât know much about curses and Iâm sure there are some exceptions, but the ones I do know of can last for generations.âÂ
â
Rhyming wasnât the worst, but Ariadne had never been a big fan of Dr. Seuss. That was too much, and she preferred an occasional rhyme rather than constant ones. Which was probably rude to say and think, but she couldnât help it. At least rhyming didnât seen to cause her or anybody around her any actual harm. That wouldâve been too much, and wouldnât have been something that she could so easily deal with. Some of the nightmares sheâd had to cause even wound up rhyming, which was a bit of a headache and had made for some less effective nightmares â something sheâd have normally been thrilled about, because less effective meant less harm, but it also meant she wasnât as quickly satiated, which meant she had to do more, which ended up meaning more harm.
But right now she was here to help Felix. Not to make things about herself and have some sort of a pity party about all of it.
âYouâve all got good thoughts.â Ariadne began. âI guess weâve just gotta figure out how to connect the dots.â She winched. âIâd rather not go bald, if itâs all the same to you. I bet thereâs something else that we can do!â
â
Okay, so some of the suggestions so far werenât the best. Felix wasnât really sure how going bald would help anything, and they rubbed a hand absently over their hair at the thought. Their mother used to shave their hair in the summers, but it had never looked quite right. Their brother always insisted it was because they had a lumpy head. Felix wasnât sure if that was true. They hoped it wasnât. âIâm not sure going bald is the best solution,â they said hesitantly, flashing Thea an apologetic smile. âIâm sure, between all of us, we can find another resolution!â
But, of course, throwing the orange wasnât helping much, either. Felix winced as it hit the wall uselessly, falling back onto the ground without breaking the same way it always did. They werenât even sure if breaking it would actually lift the curse. For all any of them knew, that would make things permanent. âWe canât afford to be pessimistic! How many of those generational curses are linguistic? I know we can find a good way out. There are some really smart people here, so I have no doubt. We know trying to break it wonât work. If we keep trying the same thing, weâll all end up going beserk. Letâs try to think of things we havenât done yet! Iâll start up a list so we donât forget.â They pulled out their phone, typing in the notes app. Breaking the orange was at the top of the does not work list. They added a last resort list and typed bald beneath the heading. âHas anyone tried anything on their own? Let me know so I can put it into my phone!â
â
There was a brief moment that Charlie considered the bald thing, a hand shooting up to his hair, and then thought better of it. âIâd rather rhyme forever than be bald.â He decided, pulling a face. He fell silent for a long moment, wracking his brain for ideas of how to be free of the curse. Sure, it was useful to get songwriting done, but it was a nightmare when trying to have a serious conversation with someone and youâre acting like fucking Dr. Seuss.Â
He frowned at the mention of generational curses and large snakes, looking at Anita a little funny before shaking his head and going back to the task at hand. Breaking the curse. âWhat happens if we dull its shine?â He asked, staring at the tacky object. âSurely if we find a way to tarnish it, weâll all be fine.â Charlie scratched at his head, unsure if that was a solution to anything or just a way to take his frustrations out on the orange.
Had he tried something on his own to break the curse? He thought about it for a minute, looking over to Felixâs phone. âI tried rhyming all the words I could think of that would rhyme with red. Took a while, but⌠it didnât work and I was filled with dread.â
__
Having an idea rejected was not a good feeling; having it rejected in rhyme was somehow worse. Thea slumped against her moldy pitch of wall. Yes, sheâd also rather rhyme forever than be bald and yet, she couldnât stop thinking that ever since her hair started coming back, her life was weird. Mostly that was because of the strange hair serum she insisted on but what if it was because she angered some baldness god by not respecting the bald? What if this curse was yet another warning from the bald man above? Thea sighed; probably not. Wait⌠Thea shot up, waving her arm in the air as though this were a classroom, but spoke despite anyone calling on her. She pointed to the older, very attractive woman. âSnickity snackity make, whatâs this about a snake?â Thea leaned back again. âWeâve gone through it, if a snake canât do it, maybe we quit?â But Felix was trying so hard, and no one wanted to rhyme, or be bald.Â
âYes.â Thea shrugged at Charlieâs red rhyming plight. âWhat a mess. Technically everything rhymes. I donât have lactose digesting enzymes.â Thea shook her head. âNo, what I mean to sayânot to playâis that rhymes slant, are still rhymes you can grant. Words imaginary are not a rhyming scary. It is true, though it makes me blue, that the English language hasâŚâ She paused. âWords known asâŚâ She paused again. âUnrhymable.â She sighed. âI thought I was ableâŚto break rhyme with these words fabledâŚinstead I became unstable.â Thea lifted a finger up. âListen: purple. What rhymes with purple? Purple rhymes with purple. Circle is not a perfect rhyme for purple. Jimminy jemminy nurple, I still rhyme with purple.â Thea hugged herself, trying to soothe the pain of purple rhyming. âMy point is that rhymes imperfect, are still rhymes you can perfect. And so what does it matter? Whatâs the point of all this chatter? For a curse that will never shatter?âÂ
â
Anita didnât care for being pointed at, but she did grin softly at the suggestion that if a snake couldnât solve this that it was perhaps unsolvable. A sentiment she, as the snake in question, wanted to agree with but also one she knew had to be untrue - because she knew that there had to be a way to stop this awful rhyming even if she wasnât the one who was able to figure it out. âWhy are you both trying to rhyme colors? Red, purple ⌠and all the others. You seem to be making this harder on yourselves than this all needs to be. Donât you see? You donât need to be Shakeperian with the words that you say. They just need to rhyme at the end of the day. It is harder in English that is no doubt, but that doesnât mean there isnât a solution we canât scout out.â
It wasnât something that she would admit aloud, but there was part of Anita that wondered if this was a permanent curse. Her ability to transform into a snake, the gift of the lamia, was technically a curse. An unbreakable one that traveled through a family for generations. She didnât really want to have a second curse upon her forcing her to rhyme until the end of time. âMaybe if we source this orange back to its origin weâll find a solution before we become permanent jesters. Preferably before the start of the new semester. Itâs one thing to have to rhyme, but I donât wish to feel like the lorax trying to find words that rhyme with antenna, glands, and thorax.âÂ
_Â
Ariadne did her best to stay mostly silent. All the rhyming was giving her more than a bit of a headache, and she wasnât always great with words to start, so suddenly rhyming perfectly was a bit unsettling. Which, again, was maybe a rude way of looking at things, but she couldnât quite help herself. It was important to try and think of ideas though, and she scrunched her face up, trying to think of more ideas â Thea and Felix and Anita and the dude called Charlie were all having really interesting ideas, and she wanted to do her best to at least try and contribute something.
âMaybe if we ask it to stop? I donât know if that ideaâs a flop.â But it couldnât hurt to suggest. Ariadne was always down to ask people, animals, or â objects, in this case, to do their very best. Give them the choice, even though she wasnât sure if this orange had a thought process â conscious â but if she could come back from the dead then maybe decorative oranges could think for themselves.
âThankfully if I have to rhyme when I do ballet â I shouldnât have to think all day.â Ariadne nodded, âPliĂŠ rhymes at least mostly with chassĂŠ, and so on.â So that much was a relief, that she wouldnât sound too weird during class. Though she was sure that some way would come about to make things sound weirder than they shouldâve. âUh, we could also leave it be? Go away and come back and maybe offer another plea?â
â
This really was a mess, wasnât it? Everyone was going back and forth about their experiences, and Felixâs feelings towards the curse were souring the more they realized that their friends were probably having less fun than they were. Charlie was full of dread, Thea was rambling about unrhymable words and baldness, Anita had classes to teach, Ariadne had ballet⌠but that was why they were all here, werenât they? If they banded together, theyâd surely find a way to break the curse.Â
Glancing up at Ariadne, they offered a small smile. âTalking to it was one of the first things I tried,â they admitted. âI asked it to let us stop rhyming, but it never replied.â Theyâd tried that tactic for longer than theyâd like to admit, in various different ways. Begging, pleading, making empty promises to the reflective glass⌠nothing had really done what they were hoping for. âIâm not sure making it dirty would do much, either. Itâd probably work as well as breaking it, and we tried that for so long that I had to stop to take a breather!â Breaking it seemed mean, anyway, and Felix didnât want to be mean. They squinted at the egg, inspecting it carefully.
âMaybe it wants us to make a specific kind of rhyme,â they suggested. âSomething to do with the thing itself this time? There could be some kind of secret password. Or maybe something we need to try to say backwards? Or it could just have to do with the egg. Or maybe we have to take it to the leg!â Could the leg be related? Leg did rhyme with egg, didnât it? Except⌠âI guess it doesnât look much like an egg, when you really look at it. The shape isnât quite right, so the word doesnât really fit.â They turned it over in their hands with a sigh. âI guess⌠itâs really more of an orange. I didnât even know they sold glass oranges, but apparently they do. Isnât that weird to think about?â They were rambling now⌠and unaware that those rambles no longer rhymed. Still turning the egg over, still perplexed, and just as clueless as always.
â
There were a lot of ideas being thrown around, and Charlie wasnât sure which one would make sense. Well, the orange egg thing wasnât lonely, so appeasing it seemed to be out. Rhyming words with difficult words to rhyme made sense. He was so lost in thought that he tuned out most of what was going on, only coming to when Felix began speaking again, going on and on about different rhymes.
Charlie stared at Felix as he rambled on, noticing that his words slipped from rhyme to just regular speech. âWait.â Charlie pointed at Felix, shaking his head. âNothing rhymes with Orange! Which meansâŚâ He paused a moment. âFelix, you fucking genius!â Charlie surged forward and shook his friend by the shoulders, grinning brightly. âThatâs it, nothing rhymes with orange! Weâre fucking free!â He placed his hands on either side of Felixâs face and nodding his head excitedly before letting go and doing a little dance now that he wasnât stuck rhyming everything. Now Finn wouldnât be reduced to murdering him for his rhymes! Amazing!
__
âNo, technically things do rhyme with orange.â Thea said quickly, ignoring the more celebratory aspect of Charlieâs words. âThere just arenât perfect rhymes. But whatâs a perfect rhyme even mean? What does itâI meanâwhat I was saying wasâŚâ Thea paused, staring at the group. She wasnât rhyming. Felix wasnât rhyming. Charlie wasnât rhyming. Their problem was solved! And yet, watching Charlie celebrate made her feel decidedly empty. âI guess weâre free?â Her words were back to being bland; her cadence was clumsy again. She was Thea. She frowned. What rhymed with free? âUh, I guess we have knees? Uh, tree?â It wasnât the sameâshe had to think about her words, she had to bear the ugly sound of her voice echoing in her ears. She was Thea, as she had been before all this. Rhyming wasnât so bad, when the alternative was this. Thea forced herself to perk up. âHey! Good job, Felix!âÂ
Pushing herself off the ground, she swiped dirt off her legs. âNow, what do we do about the orange?â Thea pointed at it. âIt is really nice, and I think it matches with the Garfield posters, but maybe we should, like, break it or something? Or put it in a case that says âdonât touch unless you want to rhymeâ? Or, uh, something?â Thea winced at herself; sheâd gotten used to the more eloquent rhyming.Â
â
For as much as Anita cared for Felix, she did not much care for this group of their friends and she cared even less for their ramblings and ideas regarding fixing this curse. Clearly there were no solutions down in this boiler room. Mentally planning a swift exit before things devolved into listening to the girl suggesting they go bald, Anita had not even noticed that people stopped rhyming until the excitable one burst across the room (not that it took much to burst across a room that size) and was exclaiming that they were free. She frowned, a bit annoyed that everyone was still talking about rhyming with colors. Hadnât they gotten past this.Â
âTons of words rhyme with orange in Spanish,â Anita muttered, mostly to herself and whomever else in the room spoke Spanish. âNaranja. Toronja. Corrija. Esponja. Puta.â As she listed of Spanish orange rhymes the realization of what the others were talking about settled in. Had the ridiculousness of the English language just saved them from this rhyming hell? Gross. Sheâd cogradulate Felix on the success later, maybe, it was their fault everyone was rhyming to begin with anyone. She certainly wasnât going to do it in front of these strangers, though. âDid you not see what happened earlier? How do you expect to break this thing? No, no. This thing must be locked away in a box of some kind, taken to a remote location, and buried a minimum of 12 feet underground. And then the key must be destroyed.âÂ
_Â
âAw, wellâŚâ but it did make Ariadne smile that Felix had already tried her idea. They were really great, and the fact that they didnât just immediately brush her idea off. Because there were plenty of people who mightâve done that. She wouldnât judge any of them for brushing it off, because that was just how things worked, sometimes, and there wasnât a reason to be judgmental about it right back to them. That wasnât kind, and she wanted to be kind whenever she could.
âThatâs â weâll think of something, I know it. Weâll figure stuff out.â Except she did a double-take, listening to everyone else. They werenât rhyming anymore. âI sort of like blue. Itâs a nice color.â Ariadne shook her head. âSorry, was â I just wanted to try it out, to see if Iâd ââ she smiled. âIf there was still rhyming going on. âThatâs true, orange is a tricky thing â word â to rhyme with.â She signed, but nodded to Theaâs idea, and Anitaâs. âWe could lock it up. Just to be safe?â
â
The rhyming curse was broken, it seemed, as easily as it had been cast in the first place. Touch an orange and rhyme. Speak the word âorangeâ at the end of your sentence and free yourself. It didnât make a lot of sense but, then, curses rarely did, did they? Felix felt a rush of⌠pride, maybe, as Charlie called them a genius, even though theyâd had no idea what they were doing when they broke the curse. They hadnât meant to free anyone any more than theyâd meant to curse them in the first place, but maybe intentions didnât mean much here. Maybe it was enough that theyâd broken the curse at all.
There were other matters to attend to, anyway. Felix looked to the orange skeptically, shifting their weight uncertainly between their feet. If Anita wanted to bury it, maybe they could bury it. But⌠âIâm not sure I can dig a hole thatâs 12 feet deep. Maybe we should just, um, chuck it into the ocean or something?â Did it still have its power? If they touched it again now, would the curse start anew? It was hard to say. âI can take care of it. Um, one way or another. I can make sure no one else gets cursed.â
â
Staring at the orange with a look of hesitation, Charlie frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. âMaybe you should handle it with a pair of tongs, yeah?â He suggested, looking over to Felix with a raised brow. âI mean, canât risk touching it again, you know?â He looked to Anita, nodding his head. âI definitely think the deeper the hole the better off we are, bury that shit away and hope no one digs it back up. The ocean is an idea too, throw it off the side of a boat Titanic style.â Charlie wiggled his brows, remembering the scene where she threw the necklace into the ocean.Â
âJust donât get yourself cursed in the process of getting rid of it. Because if you curse yourself and then throw it into the ocean, youâre fucking screwed, you know?â Charlie decided it was important enough to point that out, god forbid that poor Felix be stuck rhyming for the rest of his life.
__
âWhat if the fish start rhyming?â Thea asked with complete and honest seriousness. âWhen you throw it into the ocean? I mean, and, you gotta think aboutâlikeâŚâ She hated not rhyming. Everything sounded harsh and wrong. ââŚlike, pollution. Thereâs a lot of garbage in the ocean already, itâs not nice to dump things in it.â She frowned; maybe none of them really cared about the environment. And yes the ocean was vast, but that thing totally looked like it would just float and then what? âItâs like, you know in Oops, I did it again? They have that whole part in the music video. Which, um, yeahââ Thea gestured to Charlie. âYeah, like Titanic. I know thatâs not your point but people find things in the ocean eventually. Someone could find it.â The attractive woman was sure that it couldnât be brokenâeven if Thea thought they just needed to try harderâand Thea couldnât argue with an attractive person. It wasnât much better to bury it either; there would be rhyming worms.Â
Thea shrugged; rhyming wasnât the worst thing to her. âI trust you, Felix. Whatever you want to do with it, thatâd be good.â She agreed more with Ariadne, and the idea of locking it up. âEven if it slightly contributes to the declining environmental state of our planet.â Felix was allowed a little climate crime, she thought. They were owed that.Â
â
âOh my god!â Anita finally exclaimed, astonished and exhausted by all of the talking and discussion about what to do and how it might make the fish start rhyming. It was like the curse was lingering, trapping them into a cycle of hypotheticals and hesitations on how to destroy the stupid orange thing. She had given a perfect solution but its feasibility was questioned. Fine. But she was not going to sit around in this room any longer and have a philosophical discussion about how throwing the orange in the ocean may impact the environmental state of the planet.Â
Walking up to the egg again, Anita allowed her neck, jaw, and inner digestive tract to shift into the mojave rattlesnake. She did not know these people, and typically would not have exposed herself so obviously, but none of the questioned an orange figurine making the rhyme and they were all friends of Felixâs, in the boiler room of the Grit Pit - if there were ever a space safe from hunters this was it. Opening her mouth wide, she inhaled the orange and allowed it to travel through her body where it would hopefully, finally, meet its end.Â
Anita whipped her mouth after shifting back to her human appearance, scanned the room, making eye contact with each of the individuals present. âNow that that is settled, let us never speak of this again.â She paused, waiting to see if the orange in her stomach was going to make her rhyme again, âAnd look at that, no compulsion for poetry.â She grabbed her bag and made her way to the exit, seeing no need for her to stick around for even a second longer.Â
_Â
Ariadne found herself distracted by her relief, up until a lady partially turned into a snake? Or snake-like? Which caused her to do a fairly significant double take. âOr⌠that. That works too.â It did work, so long as it didnât hurt the woman whoâd eaten the orange and didnât hurt the orange, either. Even if it had caused all of them to just keep rhyming non-stop. Wynne had found it cute, maybe even charming, but it had been a bit dizzying.
âI wonât say anything about that, I promise.â Ariadne held up her hand, Girl Scout salute and all.
âI know I could use a rootbeer float, if anybody wants to come along?â She turned to leave. âFelix, if you want, we can go shopping for decor together sometime.â Ariadne nervously shifted from the ball of one foot to the other, wishing she had on shoes that were more flexible, desperately wishing to go by her dance studio. âBut we did it. That â good job, everyone!â She winced at herself.
â
Thea made a very good point. What about the environmental impact of a cursed glass orange sitting on the bottom of the ocean floor? Felix grappled with the lack of a perfect solution, heart stuttering uncertainly as they tried to come up with some magical answer that might resolve the issue with no kind of negative impact. Burying it in the dirt might find someone else digging it up, keeping it locked away always ran the risk of it being found. What options were available to them? How could they get rid of a thing that didnât seem to be able to be destroyed without risking someone, somewhere finding it and using it for some kind of poetic evil?Â
Their heart was pounding with the pressure, panic threatening to suffocate them, when Anita stepped forward. She made a quick beeline for the orange, and â she ate it. Felix blinked, watching it disappear down her throat. She spoke, not in rhyme, and Felix blinked again. The orange was gone. No one was cursed. This was the closest thing to a best-case scenario theyâd gotten in a while, wasnât it?
Their eyes scanned the group, wide and maybe a little confused, but no longer quite as stressed. Ariadne spoke up with offers of root beer floats and shopping, and Felix nodded. âYeah,â they agreed. âYeah! Okay! Root beer floats. Iâll pay for everyone. Um, as an apology. For the curse.â Wow, it still felt weird to not speak in rhymes. A slow smile spread over Felixâs face, in spite of everything. They sighed, content, and walked towards the door. âNext time,â they mused, leading everyone out into the hall and closing the door behind them, âI think Iâll buy a glass apple.â

















