[ The mannequin’s head tilts a little too far to the left at the question, like it’s trying to calculate the correct response. It holds still just a second too long again, then jerks into motion with a slow blink, plastic smile fixed in place. ]
Feelin’ just fine, darlin’. Better’n ever.
[ It says it like it thinks that’s what Benny would say, except he wouldn't say that, not to someone he barely knew. Sure Benny's friendly, but he's not a creeper. He's a respectful criminal and murderer, thank you very much. And this mannequin is ruining his fucking life, coming in and talking like some knockoff horror movie freak.
The cadence of its voice is close to Benny's, but not quite right, the pauses just a little too deliberate, the twang exaggerated. It doesn’t sound like Benny - not really. Just sounds like someone playing house with his skin.
The napkins under its arm crinkle as it steps closer. One falls, fluttering to the floor, but it doesn’t notice. Instead, it just tilts its head again, eyes glassy and unmoving, forgetting now to blink. ]
Better'n ever.
[ It repeats itself again, stilted and awkward and too gravelly, and takes another step closer. ]
You’re a nice girl, Karen. Be a real shame if somethin’ happened to you.
[ A beat, and then, like it’s realized that came out wrong (or did it?), it lets out a thin, stuttering chuckle, attempting to smooth it over with a shrug, the motion stiff as splintered wood. ]
no subject
Feelin’ just fine, darlin’. Better’n ever.
[ It says it like it thinks that’s what Benny would say, except he wouldn't say that, not to someone he barely knew. Sure Benny's friendly, but he's not a creeper. He's a respectful criminal and murderer, thank you very much. And this mannequin is ruining his fucking life, coming in and talking like some knockoff horror movie freak.
The cadence of its voice is close to Benny's, but not quite right, the pauses just a little too deliberate, the twang exaggerated. It doesn’t sound like Benny - not really. Just sounds like someone playing house with his skin.
The napkins under its arm crinkle as it steps closer. One falls, fluttering to the floor, but it doesn’t notice. Instead, it just tilts its head again, eyes glassy and unmoving, forgetting now to blink. ]
Better'n ever.
[ It repeats itself again, stilted and awkward and too gravelly, and takes another step closer. ]
You’re a nice girl, Karen. Be a real shame if somethin’ happened to you.
[ A beat, and then, like it’s realized that came out wrong (or did it?), it lets out a thin, stuttering chuckle, attempting to smooth it over with a shrug, the motion stiff as splintered wood. ]
Kiddin’. Ha ha.