Mr Grape - Prologue

[Noo Monkey]

Reboot.

Tear this thing apart.

___________________


PROLOGUE

Mr Grape had the ability to think. In fact, Mr Grape’s ability to think had matured quite well, in the sense that he could think entirely for himself. This seemed to be quite a useful ability. Indeed, it was an ability he had grown so fond of, that he no longer needed anybody else’s thoughts.

Mr Grape sat in his worn, leather chair and gazed into the fireplace. He listened to the rhythmic crackling and waited as the night wore on. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was waiting for, but, whatever it was, it seemed to exist nonetheless. The light of the fire cast shadows across his face, highlighting the bags under his eyes.

Mr Grape was not attractive. He had a large, round nose that seemed just a little too big for him. His forehead had firm creases that showed no signs of easing, and his cheeks were hollow and sagged. In all honesty, he had not aged gracefully.

Alone with his own thoughts, Mr Grape continued waiting in comfort. He was quite content in his leather chair, nobody’s company but that of his own. Suddenly, his thoughts seemed to blur as a sharp knocking sound came from somewhere close. Again came the noise, and, his mind now clear, Mr Grape made out the distinct sound of somebody knocking on his front door. Quite upset by this revelation, he decided to sink lower into his chair and ignore whoever it was at his door. However, the visitor did not seem to be thrown off by the lack of response from inside the house. There was a rattling of keys, followed by the sound of the door opening with a slight creak. “Hello?” called a familiar, raspy voice from the hall. “Are you home, cousin?”

Mr Grape immediately became uncomfortable. His chair seemed to loose a little of its warmth in unison. Footsteps made their way up the hall toward the lounge, where Mr Grape was trying desperately to cease living. “Ah, there you are,” came the voice, much quieter than before. Mr Eparg stepped over to the large leather chair where his cousin seemed to be having trouble breathing.

“It’s good to see you again, cou-“ began Mr Eparg.

Mr Grape sighed.

“It’s good to see you again, cousin!” repeated Mr Eparg cheerfully.

Mr Grape responded with a low grunt. “Sorry I haven’t been around as much lately. I’ve been very busy lately,” continued Mr Eparg.

“Knowing you…” muttered Mr Grape.

Mr Eparg felt around in his pocket for something. “I’ve brought you some hard candies,” said Mr Eparg, retrieving a small bag of colourful sweets. “I noticed you enjoy them.” Mr Eparg placed the bag on the wooden coffee table beside Mr Grape.

Upon the offering of this gift, Mr Grape became suspect. His cousin hadn’t believed in giving a materialistic gift before. “…I’ve been planning,” Mr Eparg said slowly, as Mr Grape’s frown began to grow larger. “You know, the family’s become quite small lately, and…”

“No,” interrupted Mr Grape.

“…And I’ve arranged a small get together,” finished Mr Eparg nervously, his cousin’s anger now evident.

“No,” repeated Mr Grape firmly.

“Cousin, we haven’t celebrated our family enough. Soon, we won’t have one at all.”

Mr Grape turned his head slowly to face his cousin. Mr Eparg stepped back a little. “Leave,” he said bitterly.

“I can’t leave until I have your word that you’ll be there,” said Mr Eparg.

Mr Grape cursed his cousin’s determination. He returned his gaze to the fireplace, obstinate that he would give no such promise. Noticing that Mr Grape was not going to respond, Mr Eparg continued. “It… He won’t be that bad,” he stuttered.

Mr Grape froze. “Get out,” said Mr Grape coldly.

“I told you before, I-“

“Get out,” repeated Mr Grape, his eyes still fixated on the blazing fire.

Mr Eparg frowned. “We can’t have a reunion without you, cousin,” he said desperately. “And time is running out.”

“Wonderful,” remarked Mr Grape. “Seems all your plans were for naught. Now, get out.”

“That’s it!” cried Mr Eparg, unable to handle the thought of his plans being thrown aside. “If you won’t come to the reunion, I’ll bring the reunion to you!”

Mr Grape’s grip tightened on his chair. He pulled himself up and stood merely inches away from his cousin. “There will be no reunion, sir,” said Mr Grape, a bitter smile on his face. “And it’s long past your bedtime.”

Mr Eparg glanced at his watch. Indeed, it was quite late. “You’re right,” he said happily. “I suppose I’ll have to get going.”

He began walking toward the door. Mr Grape felt very unsatisfied. It almost seemed a little too anti-climatic. “I suppose I’ll see you on Sunday,” said Mr Eparg, peering around the door. “I look forward to seeing the three of us reunited once more!”

And with that, Mr Eparg hobbled as fast as he could toward the door, leaving Mr Grape to curse his own foolishness. As the front door closed a little faster than necessary, Mr Grape decided it was about time to change his locks again.