Chapter Text
“My name is Mary Keay,” his mother said, shaking the hand of the man wearing the ridiculously bright costume. “I appreciate you meeting with me.”
“Of course,” Mr. Sunshine said with a smile that looked more a grimace than anything else. “Always happy to meet a fan. And who’s this little tyke with you?”
Gerry suppressed the urge to scoff. It was demeaning, being fully fifteen years old and still getting referred to as a ‘tyke’ by this man in his clownish overcoat and thick television makeup, but his mother had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to be on his best behavior. He didn’t feel like finding out what the consequences would be if he wasn’t.
“This is my son, Gerard,” Mary said, flashing her best doting mother smile as she ushered him towards the man. “We’re both such big fans of your program. He still brushes his teeth to the theme song.”
“Is that right?” the Mr. Sunshine said, looking down at him with what Gerry could tell was disdain.
“Every night,” Gerry lied. He’d never heard of ‘The Sunshine Smile Hour’ until his mother had informed him of the show’s existence earlier this week.
“Good!” the man nodded, seeming approving for the first time since the conversation had started. “Let’s keep those pearly whites in place. Just don’t forget to floss, also.”
“He doesn’t,” his mother said, cutting in. “We make sure of that. Now about why I’m here…”
“Yes,” the man said, grinning, all teeth, “I heard you’re looking to get us a British release!”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Mary said patiently, “But essentially, yes. Do you have an office we could discuss specifics in?”
“I do,” Mr. Sunshine said, gesturing down a hallway leading off of the soundstage, and starting in that direction.
“Oh!” Mary said, as though just thinking of something. Gerry rolled his eyes, and then glanced up to make sure she hadn’t noticed.
“Yes?” asked Mr. Sunshine.
“Oh, I was just thinking… it’s going to be a long conversation, I’m sure, and I wouldn’t want to bore Gerard. Would you mind terribly if he looked around the set while we talked?”
Mr. Sunshine smiled his grimace-smile again and nodded. “Why not. We’ll be right down the hall if you need us, son.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gerry said on cue, and Mary smiled at him before following Mr. Sunshine to his office.
As soon as they were out of sight, Gerry tugged at the neck of his polo shirt, and frowned. His mother had insisted he “dress nicely for once,” which is how he had ended up in the offending garment with his normally mussed hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She had made him take out his lip ring, too. He didn’t like going without it. He knew the hole wouldn’t grow over in the few hours he had before getting back to the hotel room, but even after only having it for six months, he felt weirdly naked without it. He tried to brush the train of thought from his mind. The sooner he could find something to bring back to his mother, the sooner they could leave. That was the deal.
He turned back to look at the set. The crew was finished with this one for the day, it seemed, wheeling away cameras and lights to some other corner of the soundstage. Actors in more ridiculous costumes wandered to and fro. There was enough hustle and bustle that he’d be fairly under the radar, as long as he didn’t draw attention to himself.
He walked towards the set, slipping his hands into the pockets of the ridiculous khaki trousers he had on, trying to look casual. He was beyond looking cool, he knew that, but he could at least act cool about it. He thought back to the crash course on the show that he’d been given over the last few days. It was a kids show, centered around dental hygiene, which was weird enough on its own, without whatever his mother thought was behind it. As usual, she hadn’t told him her theories about what aspect of fear the show was cultivating, expecting him to draw his own conclusions, but as far as he could tell it seemed pretty straightforward. Teeth fell pretty clearly under the Flesh as far as he was concerned, especially with how these freaks seemed to worship them.
He would never admit it, but he was a little nervous to find anything. He’d only had one run in with anything Flesh-related that was even remotely active, and it had ended pretty badly. And this time his mother wouldn’t be here to help. Granted, she had lured away the biggest threat, as far as either of them knew. And anyway that disaster was a long time ago. He was adult enough now. His mum trusted him.
He looked up at the archway proclaiming him to be in the “Gummy Glades” and didn’t bother hiding his look of disgust. The whole set was painted in a sick pink color. The strange matting they had made the floor out of squished slightly underneath his feet, as though the whole thing was swollen. Giant shiny white teeth erupted from it, looking almost like cysts. Definitely Flesh. He almost expected his shoes to stick as he wandered carefully through it.
Something loud thudded at the other end of the building, and made Gerry jump. He shook himself to get a grip, and started looking for props, scripts, anything that might be Flesh related. He made his way to a messy table at the edge of the set. It was covered in papers, which was as good a place as any to start when you knew how often books were infused with horrible fear magic.
Something lunged out at him from behind one of the teeth. He yelped and scrambled back.
“I’m Brushee! What’s your name?” said the child that had just jumped out at him.
“What the fuck!” he shouted angrily.
“Hey!” called another voice. “Don’t curse at him!” Gerry looked over to see another kid, about his own age stomping towards him.
“He jumped out at me!” Gerry said defensively.
“That doesn’t mean you can just say that!” he said, reaching down to pull Brushee closer to him and away from Gerry.
“Sorry for scaring you,” Brushee said apologetically.
Gerry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, it’s… it’s whatever.”
“What are you doing here?” asked the other boy.
“I’m supposed to be here,” Gerry said. “I mean, um, my mum is meeting with Mr. Sunshine and he said I could look around. My name’s Gerry.”
“Flosso.”
“Excuse me?”
“Flosso. It’s my name.”
“Are those your real names?” Gerry asked skeptically.
“Is Gerry your real name?” Flosso asked back sarcastically.
Gerry shook his head. “Whatever.” He turned back to the table, and started sorting through the papers.
“What are you looking for?” asked Brushee.
“Something important,” Gerry said.
“It is for papa?” Brushee asked.
“What?” Gerry asked.
“Mr. Sunshine is our father,” Flosso explained.
“Um, yeah,” Gerry lied again. “He sent me to pick up a book for him. He said it was really important.”
“A book?” Flosso asked. “You mean the show bible?”
“That’s it!” Gerry said.
“It should be in the writers room,” Flosso said. “Do you want help looking for it?”
“No, no, I should be able to find it,” Gerry said.
“Do you know where the writers room is?” Flosso asked suspiciously.
“…no,” Gerry was forced to admit.
“So I guess you do want some help looking for it. Come on, Brushee.” Flosso waved to his brother and they started down the hall.
“Um, sorry for cursing earlier,” Gerry apologized awkwardly.
“It’s alright,” Flosso shrugged. “Brushee knows he’s not supposed to jump out at people like that. Your mama’s the one who’s going to try and get us a release in England?”
“Yeah,” Gerry said, affirming the story his mum had come up with. “She thinks there could be a huge market over there.”
“It’s always good to spread the Pearly Truth!” Brushee said.
“What?” Gerry asked, perking up. That definitely sounded like cult shit.
“He just means that there’s nothing more important than clean teeth,” Flosso said. “The further our reach, the better.”
“Yeah,” Gerry agreed tentatively. “Clean teeth, that’s why we’re here.”
Flosso opened a door, revealing a room with a large, cluttered conference table in the middle. The walls were lined with taped up papers and sketches. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t covered in stuff. Gerry felt his stomach drop.
“It’s been a bit of a mess ever since papa tried cutting the Puppet Posse from the show,” Flosso explained apologetically. “But you know what they say—that’s showbusiness.”
Gerry filed the mention of puppets away for later. It might mean nothing.
Brushee and Flosso started looking around on the table. Gerry took the opportunity to do some snooping of his own. He started rifling through old drafts.
“Are you in high school?” Brushee asked him as he dug around in a drawer.
“I’m uh, homeschooled,” Gerry said.
Brushee nodded. “About 40% of our viewing audience is.”
“How about you guys?” Gerry asked, sensing he was supposed to.
“We’re also homeschooled,” Brushee said.
“We wouldn’t be able to do the show otherwise,” Flosso said, moving to another pile.
Gerry spotted a dusty box at the back of a shelf, and glanced around before reaching in to open it. Inside was an ivory carving of some kind. A thick cursive on a 3x5 notecard identified the object as “The Talisman of Gingiva.” That sounded promising. Carefully he snatched the thing and closed the box. He slipped it into his pocket as subtly as possible, feeling around the shape. The texture was wrong for ivory and he grimly realized that it was probably a bone of some kind. He pulled his hand from his pocket and did his best to not scrub his hand on his khakis to forget the feeling. He felt like the texture of dry bone had stuck to his fingers and he couldn’t get it off.
“I found it!” Brushee said, holding up a thick stack of papers held together by brass fasteners.
Gerry thanked his lucky stars that he had found something before anyone had had time to get suspicious. “Sweet. Thanks.”
“We’ll walk you back to papa’s office,” Brushee offered. Gerry stopped himself from frowning. The sooner he could shake these two, the better.
“I think I can find my way,” Gerry said.
“We’ll have to walk you halfway there anyway,” Flosso said. “We’re shooting some scenes with the Floss Flock today, and that set is back the way we came.”
“Okay,” Gerry said, cursing his bad luck. Just because he was pretty certain he could take both of them out if it came to that didn’t mean he wanted the chance to be proven right. He’d just have to hope these weird kids didn’t figure out he’d stolen their bone and decide to attack him. He planned as they walked. He’d go for the little one first. He would be easier to shove into a room and slam the door.
Halfway down the hallway, Flosso started to wobble. “Oh no,” he said, and put out a hand to brace himself on the wall. Brushee jumped, and Gerry tensed up, anticipating a surprise attack, but Brushee just ran past him to help steady his brother. Flosso was hyperventilating. He fished around in his shirt pocket and pulled out a syringe. With shaking hands, he pulled the cap off, and as carefully as he could, plunged it into his arm. He let out a sharp cry of pain and gasped, clutching at the wall and at his stomach. Gerry stayed ready to run. Gradually Flosso’s breathing slowed, and he composed himself again.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said.
“He’s just sick,” Brushee explained to Gerry.
“I’m sorry,” Gerry said as Flosso recovered.
“It’s alright,” Flosso said, smiling at him, toothy and wide. “I have faith, and so does papa.”
Gerry wasn’t sure how to respond, but that answer almost definitely meant there was some weird meat cult. He wanted to leave this television station as soon as possible.
“It was nice meeting you!” Brushee said as they came back to the main room with its vaulted ceilings and scattered sets. “Have a suntabulous bicuspid of a day!” He waved at Gerry, and so did Flosso as the two left in another direction. Gerry let out a breath and made a beeline for Mr. Sunshine’s office before he could be intercepted again.
* * *
His mother didn’t drop her act until they’d left the building. He watched as the smile on her face vanished as soon as she was out of eyeshot of the windows.
“I wasn’t expecting you back quite so soon,” his mother said, and he thought he heard praise in her tone.
“I had some help,” Gerry admitted. “I ran into Mr. Sunshine’s sons, and they were more than happy to help me find the massive pile of papers I brought in.”
“Hmm,” his mother said. “And what did you find?”
“Well,” he said, and cleared his throat, “I think we’re definitely dealing with something Flesh-related. That’s the power that usually governs bones and teeth. I saw some of the sets and they’re pretty freaky. I don’t know if any kids actually watch this show, but I don’t think they should be”
“Stay on topic, Gerard,” his mother said boredly.
“Sorry,” he said. “The kids I ran into kept saying weird pseudo-religious shit, so I think we’re dealing with a cult here.”
“That much is obvious,” Mary said.
Gerry faltered for a moment at her dismissive tone. “Um, one of them did a self-injection of something while I was there. He got really weak and he had to take some kind of medication to… I don’t know, stabilize himself or whatever. That could be connected.”
“Or he’s a diabetic.”
Gerry felt his face grow hot. It was like this every time with her. He wasn’t sure why he thought this time would be different. He had spent so much time convincing himself that she was starting to trust him, and now, yet again, she was treating him like a child. He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and cursed himself for reacting so strongly. Instead of responding to her, he reached back and pulled the hair tie out of his ponytail, letting his artificially dark hair fall around his face so his mother couldn’t see it.
“It was just a theory I was working on,” he defended.
“Did you find anything that I wasn’t able to deduce from my initial research?” she asked.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and glowered at the concrete in front of him, stalking alongside her as he rides the wave of anger growing in his chest.
“I found this,” he managed to get out without his voice cracking. He held out the bone on the flat of his palm.
“And what is that?” Mary asked curiously, looking it over.
“I think it’s a bone. Maybe a toe or a finger? It was labelled as a talisman of some sort, so I grabbed it.”
Mary gingerly picked up the bone, and turned it over. She examined it carefully, turning it in the light. The look on her face turned from hopeful to disappointed. “I suppose you deserve points for effort, Gerard, but this isn’t anything.”
Gerry felt his face burning. “What do you mean?”
“Feel it for yourself,” Mary scoffed. “You’ve interacted with enough real artifacts that you ought to recognize a phony when you see one.”
Gerry snatched the bone away from her and threw it back down the street as hard as he could. It bounced once against the sidewalk, and into a pay phone booth.
He turned his back and started walking more quickly ahead of her.
“A tantrum isn’t going to fix anything, Gerard,” he heard her call calmly from behind him. He knew that she was right, and he hated her for it. He hated himself for hating her. “I’m going to be doing some more research tonight, so you can mope around in the hotel room. I’m sure you’ll feel better after that.”
He focused on taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself. It wasn’t his mum’s fault that he hadn’t found whatever artifact they were looking for. He’d had plenty of time. “Maybe we can compare notes in the morning,” he said, keeping the waver out of his voice, and managing to not let any tears escape.
“You know I’m only doing this to help you, Gerard,” his mum said. “There’s a lot of scary things in the world, and I just want you to be prepared for that. I’m not always going to be here to protect you.”
That was the last straw. The dam broke and Gerry felt tears streaming down his cheeks, leaving cold trails where the winter air hit them. “I know, mum, I’m sorry,” he cried, and grabbed onto her, burying his face in the lapels of her coat.
He felt her arms close around him, felt her rub his back the way she always had during hugs. “I can’t do this without you, Gerard,” she said softly.
“I know,” Gerry sobbed. “I know.”