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(A Trust Machines Story)by grapehyacinth
(Ragdoll TF)

Someone was knocking at Nathan's front door. He was well aware that he had a visitor, but he had no wish to let him or her in. He was sick of people and their stupidity, and, it was also rather hard for him to get out of the chair in the state he was in.

“Nathan! I know you're in there! Open up!” The knocking became more insistent, and Nathan groaned.

“Nathan, it's me! Come on, Katharine says you're home! I'm going to stay here until you open up!” His visitor pressed the doorbell and did not release it.

“Damn it, Marsha! It's so hard for me to move like this!” Nonetheless, the magician pulled himself across the floor, grumbling aloud. The doorbell continued to shrill, and he cursed as he tried his best to turn the lock.

“What's taking you so long?” the woman outside demanded crossly.

“Hell, you're lucky I got out of my chair for you!”

“I'm honored,” he heard the woman mutter as he finally managed to unlock the bolt.

The door swung open to reveal one of his assistants, who screamed out in fright at the sight of him. “Nathan! What the hell are you?”

For the first time in months, maybe years, a chuckle escaped Nathan's lips. “Scared you, huh?” Still snickering, he turned around and prepared to make his way back to his chair. “Entrez, s'il vous plait,” he called over his shoulder.

Marsha slammed the door shut and ran in front of him. “Cut the French crap. What the hell did you do to yourself?”

He yawned, and his spindly knees shook. “Gotta get back...to the chair...”

Marsha glared down at her employer, then scooped him up into her arms. “A ragdoll, Nathan? Why?”

“A worthless ragdoll,” he responded, turning from her gaze. “Oh, you have a nice perfume on. What is it?”

Shaking him in annoyance, Marsha demanded, “Why would you turn yourself into a worthless... animated...ragdoll version of yourself? I mean, damn, you're creepy!”

“I aim to please. It's what we do in the entertainment industry.”

“Oh, shut up, Nathan. You want your damned chair? Here,” roughly, she tossed him down and he fell sideways to the cushions.

“Hey,” he folded his floppy arms across his chest. “Watch the fabric!”

“Oh, it won't hurt you. Now what's with all the self- loathing?”

The doll's face drew into a pout. “It's nothing new.”

“Why the new form, then?”

“Well, why not? The goddamned Venn Machines have to do something good for me!”

Nodding with understanding, Marsha uttered, “Time for the Trust Machines rant.”

“To hell with those transformation machines. They've ruined my whole livelihood. Who needs a magician who does fake magic when you can have the real thing in those freaking...Mystery Machines.”

Marsha laughed heartily.

“What's so damned funny?” he scowled.

“Mystery Machines – that's Scooby-Doo.”

“Scooby-Doo can go to hell.”

“Stop being so crabby, Nathan. How'd you get back here from the Venn machine?”

“Katharine changed me and brought me here. She finally agreed to. If no one would, I was going to get that cute girl at the Trust Motel, that...Claire, was it? She helps desperate people like me do stupid things to themselves... They get into the damned machines and turn into...crayons and...harpoons...”

Marsha had been wearing a hat. She pulled it off to display two cat ears on her head – in addition to her human ones.

“So you're a cat girl now? I'm so not into that anthro stuff...not that you're not cute with ears. Although four sets of ears is kind of weird. Why'd you keep the human ones too?”

Marsha rubbed at them absently. “I'm not into the anthro stuff either, but we were experimenting with the Venn machines to see different combinations–”

She pulled down her pants, and Nathan shielded his doll eyes. “Hey! Watch it! Not here!”

“Oh, Nathan, you can't see anything on me. I just have crocodile legs on the bottom. Like my scales?”

“How'd you get into shoes like that?”

“I sort of kept my feet.”

“Eh. Whatever.”

She removed a shoe, displaying scaly feet with webbed toes. “Remember that book 'I Wish I Had Duck Feet'?”

“No.”

“Well I have duck feet now!”

The magician let out an exasperated breath. “You know, it's just laughable. Look what these amazing machines can do, and they're wasted on crap like duck feet and four ears!”

“Now you're defending them? I thought you hated them.”

“I do. They've made me obsolete! Who needs someone who can turn a handkerchief into flowers when anyone can do it for real with the damned machines...which came out of nowhere, and no one knows how they work...Why would people even use them if we don't know their origin or how they function? Some diabolical mastermind might be trying to take over the world with his machines of doom! And here we are, going along with it! 'Turn me into a toy and play with me!' 'Make me a dolphin and ride on my back!' Meanwhile the evil mastermind is laughing as we walk right into his trap!”

“Nathan, I don't like the way you have painted-on eyes but they move. You're really scary.”

The magician continued his rant as if she had not spoken. “Why are people so stupid? You don't get something for nothing! There's got to be a hidden agenda! Why use something they don't understand?”

“I don't understand microwaves too well and I still use them.”

“Why let them do stuff to your body when you don't know the effects? Why are these machines appearing everywhere?”

“Because they're cool?”

“Worldwide domination is cool?”

“You just used one of those machines to turn into Brother of Chucky. And you've used them before. Remember that magic show you did in the mall?”

Nathan made a disgusted face. “And no one cared that I turned the six-foot-five man into a flea. No one cared about my 'trained' alligators and rhinos and tigers, because everyone knew they were Venned people!”

“What about your sleight-of-hand tricks? You're great with them!”

“Who cares if someone pulls a rabbit out of a hat? Who cares if I pick the right card from a deck? People can turn into dinosaurs, for God's sake!”

“Well, tiny ones. They have to fit in the machine.”

“Ugh, Venn Machines. 'Trust' Machines. Who the hell are we trusting here?” The ragdoll sighed and mopped its brow, even though it wasn't sweating. “By the way, where were you last night? I was trying to call you.”

“I was a strudel for Larry.”

“A strudel.”

“Mm, he says I was good.”

“You're into that, huh? Ugh, you young kids today...”

“Nathan, you're not even twenty years older than me.”

His eyebrows raised, making most of his fabric face stretch with them. “I'm a whole other generation – who doesn't want to be cannibalized.”

“Oh, Nathan, you haven't been food yet? Forget being eaten, just being food is nice. I particularly like being baked goods, because I feel so light and fluffy, and then when someone sinks their teeth into me, compressing me, getting me all wet and chewed–”

“Okay. Too graphic. We're done now.”

“It is nice, Nathan.”

“Good. I'm happy for you...and Larry. Especially Larry.”

“Oh, he's been nice things for me too.”

“That's just great.”

“He was a loofah for me the other night.”

“A what?”

“A loofah. Like one of those bath sponges. He said it felt so good when I used him to scrub myself off.”

“Another picture I'd like to put out of my mind.”

Marsha took offense at this. “Hey, I wouldn't talk. You seriously look like you're right out of a horror movie. Why would you be a ragdoll that can move?”

“In case someone comes to the door to annoy me!” Nathan stood up, forgetting what he was made of, and he slid to the floor. “Hell,” he murmured, his face buried under a mass of fabric limbs and body.

Giggling, Marsha fished him back up and propped him on the chair.

“Watch where you touch me,” the ragdoll muttered.

“I'm not interested, Nathan – especially in male dolls. And seriously, why be a doll? Why not become an animal and submit to the wild instincts, run with the night...”

“Because I want to rest and relax. I don't want to be bothered with eating or breathing. I just want to be... the lump of worthlessness I am.”

“You're not worthless. And there's got to be a way to get the machines better involved in your show.”

“Bah, who needs them? Let's face it – nothing is shocking or impossible anymore. The last show, some asshole Venned into one of those horrors from 'Alien' was at the back of the auditorium, and no one gave him a second glance.”

She smiled. “The Xenomorph? That was Kenny Trachtenburg, from ICU Computers. He's dating Katharine.”

“He's an ass. Who does that kind of crap?”

“If that bothers you, you should have a no-Xenomorph policy at your shows.”

“Naa, people tried that and it backfired. It angered the Xenomorphs Anonymous group pretty badly.”

“Yes, and the NXL is trying to pass laws against Xenomorph discrimination.”

“NXL?”

“National Xenomorph League.”

The ragdoll's fake eyes blazed. “See? The damned things aren't even real and they still are forming all kinds of leagues and associations for their rights... Oh, God, I need a new career.” He flung his cottony arm over his head.

“VennFarms has openings in their pony-ride section, although it's not great pay. Usually the high schoolers do it as a summer job.”

“Funny, Marsha. I'm not turning into a pony and toting snotty preschoolers around on my back.”

“The kids would love you.”

“Marsha, please, just...go to hell.”