Biffy {SYMBOL 227 \f "Symbol"} 1994 Scott Ridgeway
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This text originally appeared in      [ Ex Libris ]   
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                                                                                      BIFFY

     Biffy lived in a land not very far , far away from here.  She was a punkish girl who always dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with gaping holes in the buttocks and knees and black t-shirts emblazoned with the names of rock bands who inevitably had the word 'Death' in their logos.
     All in all, Biffy was a good girl who did all the good girl things good little girls in her land did:  she concerned herself with the Homeless People Thing and The Environmental thing and The Road Killed Kitten Thing and all sorts of other Problem Things.
     On the day that our story takes place, Biffy was very involved with a  Problem Thing.  In fact, a lot of Problem Things had been brought to her attention that very morning at a lecture by she had attended by the great feminist of her land, Andrea Dworkin.  Indeed, it seemed her head was going to explode from all the Problem-Things she was thinking about that day!  Why, the lecture felt too heavy to even be sitting on Biffy's little girl brain!.  
    It had something to do with a Gender Rape Sorta Thing.  This was an altogether new Thing to Biffy (as were all sorts of things said in the lecture) and she was having quite a time trying to wrap her mind around it.  The words from the lecture -- or, more correctly, Biffy's feeling of inspiration as yet unrelated to thought and sifted through for truth -- seemed to just drift around in her head as all sorts of Little Things which she could not quite gather into one big Gender Rape Sort of Thing.  It was all so very confusing!
     Biffy thought maybe she could understand the Gender Rape Sorta Thing if she just concentrated real, real hard... and she did!  In fact, she was concentrating so very hard that when she got home after the lecture, she ran right in the front door of her families suburban style ranch house,  and rushed right through the living room where her family was sitting in their favorite spots in front of the television without even noticing they were there!  Why....  she was concentrating so very hard that she barely even noticed opening her bedroom door or entering her room or even slamming the door closed behind her and putting on her favorite album and cranking the volume up so high that 'The Dead Lovers In Potato Crates' almost blew out her speakers!    
     As Biffy's body began bouncing to the music, she pulled out a cigarette and lit up with her unicorn lighter and began smoking furiously -- as she always did when Things needed thinking about.
     But, even though Biffy had not noticed her family as she passed through the living room, they had indeed noticed Biffy.  And when she turned on the stereo and strange music began pounding and pounding through her door and drowning out the important talk of the sports caster on the television...  why, they noticed her even more!
     Biffy's father cast a stern look at Biffy's door when that creepy, screechy voice screamed out through the living room singing, "Death is a cool old fool, baby.  A cool, kinda, sorta, thing....  Baby, baby, baby, my little baby thing."
     Now, this was not the first time Biffy had forgotten that if she turned the music up real loud that it became dang near impossible to hear the television in the living room.  Normally, when she turned her music up that loud Father just clucked his tongue and used his somewhat bemused, 'Oh, that silly Biffer," voice  to tell Biffy's big brother, Skipper, to go on back to Biffy's room and tell she had better turn down that stereo off she knew what was good for her....   But not that day.  Father was very, very angry that day.  Not only did the crazy words of the song not sit very well with him, but Biffy's music was drowning out the important half-time talk of a sports caster expressing his many wondrous views on topics of interest to sports fans everywhere -- which was father's most very favorite part of the whole game!
    The voice smashing through Biffy's door suddenly began screaming, "Baby, baby, baby, my little baby thing.  Baby, baby, baby, my little baby thing," over and over again, faster and faster.  When Biffy's father looked at the television and saw the lips of the sports caster's flapping away like they were singing in that screechy, creepy voice, he grew even more angry!  His ears turned as red as ripe tomatoes and he jerked off his favorite baseball cap ( the one with his very favorite team written across the brim) and threw it right into the middle of the living room floor!   Mother looked up from her knitting at the blue and cap lying on the mint green shag carpet and with a sad look on her face said, "Well, I guess it is time our little girl learned some respect for other people's feelings."
     Then Mother began removing a gray, nasty old chain from her knitting bag. 
     Father watched Mother until she had the entire chain out of her bag, then he reached under the cushion of the sofa and pulled out a long, brown rope.
     Mother got up from her chair and began straightening the doilies on the arm and head rest.  Then she looked at Father quizzically and he gave her the thumbs up and stood up, as well.  Skipper looked up at his parents from his perch on the floor in front of the television and said in his whiniest voice, "Awww, Geez!  Can't this wait at least until the game is over?"
    Mother frowned down at Skipper, got all stern and said, "That little lady happens to be your sister.  As her older brother, Mr. Skipper-Doo, you should welcome the chance to help your sister."
     Skipper was still none too happy over leaving his favorite spot in front of the television, but with a dour look on his face, he followed Mother and Father through he short hall to Biffy's bedroom.  when they arrived at Biffy's door, the screechy, creepy voice ended the song it was screaming with, "Death, Death, Daddy-O-Death, and fast cars with gnarly paint jobs... and things.  I guess. Baby."
    Suddenly from the living room they could hear the sports caster's voice.  Fathers let out a long breath and seemed to calm down quite a bit as he listened to the sports caster say, "Herb, I found that to be about the craziest thing I have ever seen in my twenty fond years of being associated with this fine game.  Herb?  Say, Herb, let me send this back over to you and ask, was that thing not just one of the craziest things?"
     But, before Herb could answer the important the highly half-time question, the music started up again!  This time the music sounded like metal scrapping against metal in some industrial machine!  Steam practically shot out of the Father's and he pushed Mother and skipper back away from the door and through gritted teeth, said, "I'll handle this, By-Gumption!"  Then he grabbed the door-handle and jerked  Biffy's door right open.   
    At the sight of what was happening inside Biffy's room, three jaws dropped almost to the floor!    Biffy was bouncing up and down like some crazy pogo-stick and waving around a highly frowned upon, cancer causing cigarette as she jerked her head forward and back, forward and back  -- like a woodpecker!   Her orange hair was bouncing all over tarnation!  
      Mother began falling back and stumbling as she covered her eyes with one hand and waved the other over her head.
     Skipper jumped behind Mother and shoved his little hands under her arms just as she began collapsing like a puppet  cut away from its strings.  Mother was so very much bigger than Skipper that she knocked him back against the wall and he bumped into father's favorite painting in the whole world -- the one he bought at The Starving Artist's sale at the Ramada Inn after comparing the browns of the mountain-scape with a chip of beige paint from the hall.  
    The painting swung this way and that...  then crashed to the floor!
    Father was already pretty angry at the sight of the bouncing Biffy (not to mention missing Herb's important answer to the half-time question!), but somehow he looked even angrier when he turned around and saw that the mock-wood frame of his very, very favorite work of art had pulled apart at the corners.  His entire body began trembling in rage!
    Biffy had her eyes closed all this while so she was oblivious to the mayhem she was causing and just kept dancing and smoking and listening to the loud music and thinking about Things as her very fate was being determined!
     
    When Mother finally pulled herself together, she stood up straight and patted little Skipper on the head.  Then she took just one look over at her enraged husband and jerked her head from side to side in that perky parakeet manner of hers and said, "That little girl needs a lesson in life.  Bind her tight, boys."
     Skipper and Father both nodded a firm, 'Yes,' rolled up their shirt sleeves,  and rushed into the bedroom.
     They grabbed the bouncing Biffy just as she shot upward and the momentum was such that Biffy impaled herself on their fingernails and tore bloody red gory gashed in the milky white flesh of her shoulders.
      "Ouch!"  Biffy cried.
    Skipper and Father ignored Biffy's whimpering and crying as they forced her down onto her knees and then stooped beside her to hold her arms tightly by her sides.
     Mother strutted into the room, grabbed the album off the spinning turntable, gripped it with both hands and smashed it over Biffy's orange head.  Then she stood in front of her kneeling daughter, crossed her fore-arms over her pert breasts, threw back her head and laughed like a jackal before growing  soft and putting the tips of her index fingers on Biffy's temples,  and closing her eyes to offer a silent prayer.
     When Mother was done praying, she spit into the palm of her hands, rubbed them together, then started briskly shoving her dampened palms down the sides of Biffy's spiky, orange haired head.
     "It's all for your own good, dear,"  Mother told the very, very confused and bleeding Biffy.    To the ceiling, she added, "This hair!  Lord help us!"
    Biffy liked her hair just as it was, and when she realized what her Mother was trying o do she began tossing her head back and forth to throw off Mother's hands.  Mother stepped back, put her closed fists on her hips, cocked her thigh out a bit to the right, and, towering over the defiant Biffy, said,  "You will have normal hair.  Hold her, boys.  I'll be right back."
     Then she left the room.
     Biffy looked pleadingly from her father to Skipper, but neither of them would look Biffy in the eyes.   They just stared straight ahead with blank expressions which really scared Biffy.  Why, she felt as she hardly knew either of them, and before she could think of anything to say to the strangers in Skipper and Father's bodies, Mother returned with the rechargeable curling iron Father had bought her for Mother's Day.
     Mother smiled as she reached down and grabbed a handful of Biffy's orange hair and jerked her head back until Biffy's chin pointed toward the ceiling and her neck was exposed.  Mother then and Father and Skipper all struggled very hard to keep Biffy from thrashing away as Mother pressed the searing hot metal of the curling iron down into the white flesh of Biffy's throat.
     Biffy jerked her hair this way and that as she tried to pull away from the hot metal sizzling and sputtering on her neck!   Finally, she got her head loose from Mother's grip for a second, but in the process a handful of her orange hair was ripped at their roots.
     "Ouch!"  Biffy cried.
     Mother was altogether determined to burn Biffy's throat until she was darn good and ready to stop, so she just tossed aside that handful of orange hair and grabbed another and jerked Biffy's head back once more and again pressed the white hot metal into Biffy's throat.   "This hurts me more than it hurts you, dear, Mother told Biffy.
      After what seemed like forever to poor Biffy, Mother finally decided that was enough of that curling iron and she tried to pull it away from Biffy's throat, but some of Biffy's skin was cooked right into the hot metal and stuck there.  Mother twisted and jerked the curling iron as she tried to get it loose from the blackened, scorched flesh of Biffy's neck, and finally, with a look of determination on her face, Mother gave a pull on that iron and it ripped right off...  along with a big patch of Biffy's throat which flapped about and dripped red gunk on the carpet.
     "Ouch!" Biffy  cried.
     "Are you going to mind, now?  Mother asked?
    Biffy had not liked being scarred for life one little bit so she smiled up though her tears at her towering mother and said, "Oh, yes, Mother.  I'll get my hair done in Bee Hive -- just like yours.  I swear!  Can I get up, please?"
     "Well... "  Mother told Biffy, "First we have to something about these spikes."
     Then Mother proceeded to clamp some of Biffy's hair in the curling iron and started trying to get the very, very moussed spikes to conform into a curl.  It took awhile, but Mother finally made a poofy little curl right over Biffy's forehead.
     Mother stood back and looked at that curl and sounded pleased as she said, "Well, at least a bit of that orange mess is under control.  It's going to take a lot more work, obviously.  But it looks oh so much better!"
 Then Mother's voice got very, very nice (like it almost always was) and she added, "Oh, that's just so much better, honey.  It'll just be a matter of getting used to it, you'll see.  You'll like it better in the end.  And so will the boys.  Isn't that right, boys?"
     Father gave Biffy a little peck on the cheek and told her, "Gosh, I didn't know you were so pretty!"
    "Skipper?"  Mother said in a questioning yet commanding voice.
     Without even looking at Biffy, Skipper bounced his head from side to side and said, "  Oh, Geez.  Alright, it looks better."
     "Now, Mr. Skipper-doo, you go on and really look,"  Mother said in her stern voice.
     Skipper looked his sister full in the face and he was astounded and said, "Gosh, you know, it really does look better,  Maybe I'll let you come to one of my games, now.  If you want to, that is...  Do you want to come?"
     Biffy had never cared for baseball, but everyone was being too weird that day and she was still being held rather tightly and had been scarred for life, so she decided to go along with anything and told Skipper she'd love to go to one of his games.  Then she looked up at her Mother and asked, "Can I get up , now?"
     "Biffer, dear," Mother responded, "we have a lot more work to do, and after that little display a minute ago when I tried to help you with you hair, well...  I'm afraid you've forced me to feel I can't take any chances at all on your getting away before I'm done with you.  You'll thank us later, dear."
     Mother turned to leave the room, and over her shoulder she called out, "Chain her to the bed, boys."
     Biffy thought about trying to fight off Father and Skipper again, but she felt the charred skin of her neck hurting oh so very badly and figured nothing could be worse than what she had already gone through, so she let then have their way with her...  but Biffy thought maybe she should have fought anyway when she realized Father and skipper had tied her wrists so very tightly to the bedposts that her hands were beginning to turn purple.
     "Father," Biffy asked, "Do the ropes have to be this tight for Mother to give me a different hair-do?  I mean...  Mother's just going to get hair spray and stuff to give me a Bee-Hive, right?"
     But all Father would say was, "You just lie there and take it!" In a strange, voice that Biffy had never heard him use before.  
     Then Biffy got real scared as a bizarre whirring sound came from the kitchen and she started making a noise like a mouse caught under the metal latch of a trap.  She went, "Errrrrrk!   Errrrrrrk!"
     Mother was making the whirring sound in the kitchen as she prepared a batter in the cuisenart.  Mother was putting all sorts of things into the mix:  there were faded and yellowing columns from Dear Abby that she had saved over the years, a handy-dandy calorie counting booklet of just the right size for small purses, photos of Brooke Shields and other models that mother had just melted over throughout the years, and all sorts of other special things Mother had always meant to pass on to Biffy.   Why, there was even a rosary which Mother's Mother had given her on a day much like that very day!
     Each time Mother added another item to the cuisenart she turned on the swirling blades and pureed her favorite momentos into the smooth while still somewhat thick consistency with the consistency that the recipe called for.
    Father listened as the whirring sound rose up, then went away, rose up, then went away, and soon he had such a hankering to wander out into the kitchen that he did just that,  Skipper was just itching to out to the kitchen too, and it was not long before he followed right behind.
     Father crept quietly down the hall, snuck into the kitchen and came up behind Mother and surprised her with a big hug from behind,  Mother snuggled her buttocks right against Father's crotch in that way she had,  and then turned around in his arms so they could embrace properly.
     Father hugged her very tight, and as he did he surreptitiously reached around behind her and added a photo of the Virgin Mary to the batter.
     Skipper saw that photo slip into the batter, but Father gave him a wink over Mother's shoulder so Skipper knew it was one of their little secrets.  Skipper winked back and gave Father the thumbs up.  Then, with a sly look on his face, he started looking around for something he could sneak into the batter, too.  Skipper always liked to do everything his father did.  But Skipper was so impatient that he just grabbed the closest thing -- which was a mop hanging from a little hook Father had drilled right into the wall.,  The mop was way too big to sneak into the batter, so Skipper just held the mop up in front of him a and proudly displayed it to his parents and asked, "Can I put this in?  Please, can I?"
    Mother looked at the big mop, then at the little Skipper, and just had to laugh as she said, "I don't think that's going to fit, but you can try, dear."
    Mother and Father moved out of the way and put their arms around each other's waists while they watched Skipper crawl onto the counter, stand over the cuisinart, and shove the mop handle into the mix.  He used his toe to turn it on and when those swirling blades began striking the wooden handle it was all Skipper could do not to start spinning himself!   Mother and Father exchanged quite a few proud and amused smiles as they watched Skipper's determined but comical struggle.  It was apparent right from the start that the job was too much for their little man, so after a couple minutes, Father swaggered up behind Skipper, gave him a little punch on the shoulder and said,  "son, I'll finish putting the mop in the batter if you'll do me a big favor and run out to the garage and get that red funnel I use to put transmission fluid in the Buick and rinse it out real clean with the hose, okay?"
     But Skipper kept a firm grip on the mop even after Father reached up and placed his fingers around the handle  He wasn't no quitter and he pleadingly said, "Dad, I can do this, really I can."
     "Oh, I know you can, son,"  Father said in a serious and sad voice, "and it would take me twice as long as it would take you to get this mop in there, anywise.  You...  go ahead.  But, Gee, I need that funnel really clean, and these old eyes are failing me.  well, I sure hope I don't miss a spot or two with that hose...."
     "Geez, Dad, here.  I don't care about no stupid old mop.  I'll take care of that funnel, though," Skipper told his father in a determined voice, "and I'm going to make the funnel so clean, you'll see."
     "Son, I know you will,"  Father said as he turned and winked at Mother.
     Skipper excitedly jumped off the counter and ran out the garage to begin cleaning the funnel!
     "He's going to grow up to be just like you"  Mother told her beaming man.
     "And she like you, you'll see."
    "Oh, I do so hope so dear."
     Mother and Father then took turns adding items to the batter from a pile mother had very neatly lain out on the kitchen table.  They even took turns pushing the button to make the blades whir and whir.  By the time skipper returned with the funnel, the batter was all done.
     Mother poured the batter into a huge bowl,  It was bubbly and green and Skipper said it looked like snot, but still, he could not resist dabbing his finger into he bowl and scooping out a bit of the batter so he could have a little taste.  As he raised his fingertip to his mouth, Mother looked at Father and saw he was practically licking his lips because he was so eager to taste that batter too (though he wouldn't admit it), so she held out the bowl and Father took a bit on his fingertip, as well.
    Father tasted the batter and said, "Wonderful, as always, you little love nest."
    "Gosh, Mom," Skipper chirped in. "This stuff is great!"
     Mother smiled warmly at the compliments.   She always took a lot of pride in her cooking.    Smiling and triumphant,  Mother held the bowl of batter out in front of her and raised it up over her head, and with a little dance to her step,  she led  Skipper and Father back into the bedroom.
     Biffy had been growing more and more terrified all the while the family was gone. The whirring sound rose and fell, rose and fell... By the time her family came back into the bedroom she was shivering like she was cold and making the mouse sound, "Errrrk!  Errrrk!"  over and over again.  But Biffy came to her senses a little when she saw the batter and the huge red funnel.
     She began struggling against her bonds like a wild animal, but Father and skipper had tied the rough, scratchy twine rope so tightly that as she tried to jerk her arms out she tore the skin right off her wrists! 
     "Ouch!"  Biffy cried.
     Skipper grabbed Biffy's hair and twisted her head to the side so her ear pointed straight up toward the ceiling,  Father crouched down beside the bed, aimed the funnel at Biffy's ear canal, and then, with all the strength he could muster, Father shoved the tip of the red funnel down, down, deep into Biffy's ear and yellow and red gunk squirted out and splattered all over Father's face and arms.
     Biffy's eyes suddenly shot wide, wide open !  Then slammed shut!  Her lips became a circle getting big, then smaller, bigger, then smaller -- like a goldfish gasping for air in a filthy bowl!
     Father turned to Mother and cheerfully said, "She's all yours, dear.
     Mother stepped over to the bed and poured every bit of that batter into he funnel without spilling a drop!
     The Skipper and Father and Mother all stepped back from the bed and watched the shivering Biffy as if they were waiting for something special and interesting to happen to her.
     Meanwhile, inside Biffy's  head, the  batter seeped down into the cracks of  her pulsing, spongy, peach colored brain.
     Oh so very soon, all of the strange Problem Things in Biffy's head seemed to melt right away!  Her eyes shot open and she looked somehow altogether different and warm!
     Skipper and Father could see the change right away and they moved quickly to unbind Biffy.
     When Biffy was free, the New and Improved Biffy leapt up from her bed with a springy step, turned from one face to another and gave a cheery smile to one and all before saying, "Geez, I guess it's about time I dyed this crazy, orange hair back to brown, huh?"
     The entire family broke out into laughter and there were hugs and hugs for everyone!  And then, they all lived happily ever after.  Really!

     
     




    
     

     
     
    
