Carson McGuffy

It started with a twitch. A simple twitch. And Carson McGuffy was sure that he had seen it. So he didn't move for three days, watching the beast, the dirty piece of filth mannequin, waiting for a sign that his eyes hadn't deceived him. He kept on almost giving up, but then he kept remembering that twitch, that twitch that he was sure that he had seen. So he sat in the storehouse, waiting for what he was sure was inevitable, that the monster would eventually break its game of immovability and shift its position. But even after two days, the hard-willed imbecile didn't move. It just...stood there. Like a dummy. But how could a dummy move its finger on its own? It couldn't. So it wasn't a dummy. Carson wanted to sit down. He wanted to relax. To breathe. But he couldn't, he just couldn't! What if, when he moved, the mannequin acted and he didn't see it? So he hadn't sat down, not even altered his position that he had been in when he had first seen the twitch. The almost unnoticeable wiggle of a finger. But of a dead finger. How could anyone ignore that? It had moved, he swore it had, and no fool could just look away! How could anyone ignore the fact that a lifeless being had imitated life? And how dare it! How dare a dead figure pretend to be alive? What was it thinking? It wasn't right, it was disgusting, no, downright disturbing that any rock of a person would even have such a terrible thought cross its mind. That wasn't how it worked, nor would it ever be! Dead is dead, living is living! It could never change, never in a million years! Things wouldn't work that way! You couldn't just decide to be human or not. If the dead could live, nothing would ever be the same. Good would be evil, and evil good. Life would be hectic, and death even moreso! No, it just wasn't right for the mannequin to twitch, and Carson was extremely offended that the figure would do such a thing. Carson realized that he wasn't breathing. He started to inhale, but then stopped. What if the mannequin copied him? What if the mannequin started breathing, then started eating, and sleeping, and loving, and dying, and in general having emotion? What if no one knew? No, no! The whole thing would go to pot, rot, and ruin! It just wouldn't work, just wouldn't work, because how could it work? How could the figures of man become man, and man still live? Hearts would break, and eventually all of man would die. No, Carson wouldn't move, wouldn't let this little imp try to simulate life. Carson focused on his hand, which was raised between him and the lifeless beast. The fingers were rather white, weren't they? No, not just the fingers, but the whole hand. Yes, it was hard for the blood to reach it, raised like that. And all of the sudden, Carson noticed how cold it was, how very, very cold, and yet...and yet Carson couldn't feel it. He didn't feel exactly warm, neither did he feel exactly cold. Nor anything between. He noticed that his goosebumps that had been consistently running up and down his arms were gone. How long had that been the case? In fact, his arms felt absolutely smooth. If he glanced at them...but no. That dirty rotten mannequin would surely take advantage of his negligence, it would move all over the place and then go back to its original position before his eyes returned to it, and the dirtbag would do it just out of spite. Just like a mannequin, to do such a thing, wasn't it? On the other hand, though, Mannequins didn't really have feelings of hate, did they? Not that they had feelings of love, obviously, but who had ever heard of a hateful Mannequin? They were really quite nice. What really good person would want all those nasty biased opinions based on some foolish idea of person affection? Of what benefit was love, anyway? After all, it has been said that love and war go hand in hand, has it not? Yes, emotion of any kind was foolishness leading to destruction, to death! How could anyone take those chances? To feel love (a fleeting, unsure flash of passion) and to die, or to have no emotion, no war, no anger or foolishness...and to live forever? Yes, surely Mannequins were the good ones, the really bosom-friend type. The type that is a good person just to be a good person, and for no other reason. Yes, Mannequin-kind was full of real love...