Nobody Likes Broken Vixen

Broken Vixen wakes up to his cell vibrating and answers it in a sweat.

"Hello?" Broken's heart is pumping fast, working it's way from second gear to third.

"Dude!" Broken's heart gets to third gear and keeps chugging because the voice on the other end of the phone belongs to Tommy Pickles.  Tommy is Broken's ex-best friend, only Tommy doesn't know that yet.  Broken presses the phone back into his ear.

"Dude!  I have all kinds of crazy shit for you to do today!"

Broken takes the phone from his ear, holds it in his hands.  He waits.  Nothing happens.  He presses the phone back into his ear.

"Hello?  Broken?  Broken?"

"I don't want to do crazy shit today," Broken says.  "I'm not broken anymore."

"What do you mean?  Of course you're Broken!  You're Broken Vixen!  Who else would you be?"

"No, I mean I'm not--"

"Broken, just calm down."

"Tommy listen--"

"No you listen, Broken.  I'm bored and I need you to entertain me.  Get ready.  I'm coming by."

Tommy clicks off.  Broken stares at the phone.  He sets the phone down, gets up, paces his house, goes into the bathroom.  He looks at himself in the mirror and splashes some water on his face.  He dries his face on a towel.  Then he stands in the center of his living room and waits for Tommy to arrive.

****

Tommy shows up grinning a disastrous smile packed with jagged teeth.  He aims the smile at the door knocker and knocks.  One, two, three, four.  He doesn't stop knocking until Broken answers the door.

"Broken!"  Tommy extends his arms for a hug, giving Broken a scenic view of Tommy's considerable girth packed into a lime green track suit.

"Hi Tommy," Broken says and weakly stands to one side, inviting Tommy in.  "What, no hug?" Tommy demands, but he marches into the house anyway.  Trailing behind Tommy are a baby stroller, a clown suit, and various whips and chains. 

"What, uh, is all this stuff," Broken asks nervously. 

"Oh," Tommy says, pointing his grin at Broken's face.  "It's all for you."  The grin doesn't stop devouring, it eats through flesh all the way to Broken's skull.  "Here's what we're gonna do.  You're gonna put on this clown suit and get in this stroller.  After that we're heading to Target and I'm going to film you."

"What about the whips?" Broken asks, eying the whips as Tommy begins pulling down Broken's pants. 

"Oh, you'll see," Tommy says with his hands on Broken's belt buckle.  "You'll see what about the whips."  The laugh bellowed by Tommy makes it sound like he's eating air.

Broken pushes Tommy's hands away from his belt buckle.  "Tommy, stop.  I told you.  I'm not broken anymore.  I'm making progress with my shrink and-- and-- I'm seeing this girl--"

"No you aren't," Tommy says.  "You're Broken.  Ask anybody in this town.  You think they don't know it?"  Tommy gestures towards the neighboring buildings in the gray fog of morning, and Broken knows that he's right.  "If you aren't Broken then who are you?  You're nobody!  Nobody even knows who you are."

Defeated, Broken begins to slump to the floor.  He knows Tommy's right.  He lets Tommy remove his pants.