@brooklynislandgirl
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It was ugly and there was no denying that. The fabrics had not wanted to behave, and the stuffing was everywhere. To the point she was still pulling it out of her vacuum cleaner even when she swore that none existed before she started. It had seemed easy enough. and then she started sewing the damn thing together. A choice she regretted as her finger tips were sore to the touch. But she would not be defeated. Even days after it was meant to be done.
Next time she would know better. Next time she would have started earlier. Next time she would not be fooled by the supposed three day instructions. As it was, she came through the front door. Not caring who was there or what was going on. She had just drug a ninety five pound six foot diameter bean bag up the stairs.
That stupid elevator was going to be the death of her. Baz said it was fine. Clint, the Landlord, kept telling them it worked perfectly. But nooo, it had to just not opened the doors. Jay should have been at a barbeque. But that was neither here nor there. “BETH! BEEEEETH!!” Jay heaved the bag up into her arms. Managed three steps and then everything shifted. Down. Down she fell, beanbag bed and all. She swore in every language she knew. Her but taking most of the impact before she was felled by blueish grey and white fabric.
Swallowed under the item she had crafted out of love. Blood, sweat, and one single tear going into the making of Brutisimus. That was the name she had given it. A parallel to the famed animatronic of ye classic horror movie. Because it had been about as big of a pain in the ass as Bruce had been.
“Someone?!” Jay called out, a wheezy sound as she was being half smothered. only her hands and hair being shown under the behemoth of a present.
“Anyone?”
