Page 47 of Tis the Season for Tentacles
“Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” I moan.
I back away from the button on the wall like it’s possessed and stumble into the side of the bed, where I collapse.
“Oh, God. How do we make it stop?” I ask Najar.
He’s frozen in place but looks equally horrified. “I don’t know. This is… words fail me.”
The dreaded automated voice begins speaking again. “Mattress motion activated.”
That’s when the bed underneath me begins to vibrate.
Because of course it does.
Fuck. My. Life.
I hurriedly look around for a way to make it stop, and Najar comes to assist me.
The bed’s vibrations grow stronger and I start tossing pillows in my efforts to find the damn off switch.
“Aha!” Najar cries. “I think I found the power button.”
Before I can protest that I’m not sure if we should be messing with any more buttons at this point, he presses it.
I hold my breath.
Amazingly, the bed stops vibrating.
I slump back in relief. “Oh, thank Go–”
The automated voice interrupts me. “Sexual restraint mode activated.”
Hidden bondage gear springs up from the sides of the mattress and wraps around my ankles and wrists, pulling me spread eagle on the bed.
“What is happening?” I cry out. “Help me!”
For the first time since I met him, Najar has a distinctly panicked look on his face.
He hurries to my side and tries removing the restraints with brute force, but they hold firm.
“Just so you know, I’m freaking the fuck out right now and am on the verge of a panic attack!”
He kneels on the side of the platform bedframe and we hear an ominousclick.
“Uh… Felix?”
“Don’t say it.”
“I seem to have pressed another button.”
The automated voice of doom returns. “Cocoon sleep mode activated.”
Beneath me, my side of the mattress starts to soften and I begin sinking into it.
“Abort, abort!” I struggle valiantly to escape but it just sucks me deeper into the fluffy void to hell. “I sawA Nightmare on Elm Streetwhen I was a teenager. No fucking way do I want to end up like Johnny Depp did in that waterbed!”
Am I a little bit screechy at this moment? Yes, but deservedly so. This fucking mattress wants to bury me alive.
I focus on my breathing so I don’t entirely lose my shit. “Najar,” I say in calm even tones, “get me the fuck out of this death trap pronto, or I am going to scream my motherfucking head off.”
