It was Thursday morning. Marilyn hadn’t slept too well. Regardless, she still got into the shower before Alice was even out of bed.

Alice got to hit snooze 5 times. The 6th time her phone vibrated, it was Jiji. Alice’s picture of Jiji was of Jiji hugging a goat. It made Alice want to get up more than her 5 alarms.

“Hey?” Alice yawned.

“Hey babe! What this about you losing your car to aliens?”

“Marilyn squealed?”

“She asked me if I had enough magic to make a new car. And I said ‘kinda, because there’s way too many parts that go into a car for me to make a model from the ground up. So it’d be easier to copy and paste a working version of that model car. But that would still drain me for the day. But I can make a magic card to pay it off easier’. So…”

Alice let the silence linger. She knew where this was going. And she wasn’t interested in the finish.

Jiji sang, “I’m using a magic phone~. I know you can hear me~.”

“Don’t sass me, you bottom. It’s too early.”

“Well, how about I brighten up your morning with a new car!”

Alice’s phone projected Jiji’s options. A series of 1960 -1980’s cars filled Alice’s room. Above her bed were holograms of muscle cars, beach vans, and pickup trucks. Accompanied by game show music and big ‘on sale’ arrows.

Jiji stepped in from behind a camper like a game show girl. Pink dress and microphone in hand. She was lit up by individual dots just like the projections. Alice saw it as ‘neon-lit pointillism’.

“All of these models are close by and take all forms of payment. All you have to do is take your pick! And I’ll handle the bill!”

Alice sat up. Amused, annoyed, and flattered all at once.

“I appreciate this, bun. But, no.”

“Oh? You want something more modern?” Jiji asked, about to snap her fingers.

“No, I mean: I don’t want you to buy me a car.”

The call hung up. The images all disappeared with the tone. Not 2 seconds later, Alice’s door slammed open!

Jiji, still in her pink dress and ponytail, “What do you mean ‘you don’t want a car’?!”

Marilyn shouted from the shower, “Don’t slam doors in my house, please!”

“Sorry, my darling! I love you!” Jiji gently closed the door. “What do you mean ‘you don’t want a car’?”

Alice decided now was a good time to get out of bed.

“I don’t want to owe you a car.”

Jiji persisted, “You won’t ‘owe’ me anything. It’s a gift for my girlfriend. Not a loan.”

Alice started to pull clothes out of her closet.

“I'm not comfortable being given something that extravagant.”

Jiji sat next to the skirt she had made herself. She pointed at the wardrobe Alice was going through. A closet full of Jiji’s designs.

Alice sighed, “I only accepted because you love making clothes and half my leggings had holes in them. It was mutual.”

“Exactly, you need a new car like how you needed new clothes.”

“There’s a difference between a $75 skirt and a $7500 CAR!”

“Alice, money isn’t real. It’s something you humans came up with.” She clapped her hands and unraveled a giant check for $100,000,000. “This has no value to me. It’s a piece of paper with ink on it proclaiming a value Americans agreed on.”

Alice had to admit. Watching that much money vanish in flames was like a punch to the chest.

Jiji continued, “That’s why I’m offering to ‘pay’ for a car.”

Alice was trying not to yell. Her left hand was a fist. She brushed her hair back with her right. The deep inhale told Jiji everything before Alice said a word.

“It’s not a pragmatic thing, Jiji. It’s personal. Something that big is just. I can’t accept it. It’s too much.”

Did Jiji understand Alice’s perspective? Did Alice make her case in a way Jiji understood? Was Jiji too dense to keep pushing the issue?

“Sorry, Alice. I’ll back off.” Jiji stood up, “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

Could Alice stay mad at Jiji? With her big brown eyes. Looking up at her like a pet that broke a lamp.

“Ugh, fine. Come here.” Alice hugged her. “Horny rabbit.”

“Yeah. But I’m your <horny rabbit>.”

Alice pulled back, “My what?”

“‘Horny rabbit’ in Japanese.”

“Bun, where did you,” Alice paused, “Did you assume I spoke fluent Japanese because I’m Japanese?”

Marilyn, out of the shower, “We were watching anime and you said the subtitles were distracting.”

“Because multiple people were talking! Not because I understand Japanese!”

“So you admit it!” Jiji boasted.

Alice rubbed her temple, “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

-Later-

Branding is just as important as the product being sold. It doesn’t matter if a hamburger chain has the most delicious beef on earth. No one would eat at ‘McBooger’s Burgers’.

This was Jiji’s current dilemma. Tatiana had managed to convince her to start over with her social media. To relaunch with better organization. As well as an actual website to act as a hub.

What Jiji didn’t have was a layout. Her fire tattoos could act as the logo/symbol/signature. But what about the color palette? Font style? Name for her brand?

Dante entered Jiji’s room to the image of Jiji lying on the couch. Dozens of paper airplanes over her head. Flying around like cars on an invisible highway.

Dante unfolded a list of site names.

She read aloud:
Jinn Modeling & Cosplay
Jiji Jinn The Model
J.J Modeling
J.B Modeling
J.J.B Modeling
Tea Time Modeling
Ifrit Cosplay
Genie Modeling
Am I overthinking this?
I want some vodka
Or a pony
What’s Alice up to?

Jiji stopped her with an, “I was rambling.”

Dante sat on the couch arm. She picked a few designs from the air traffic. Mock-ups of how the site would look under different color combinations. Mostly gold on blue or gold on pink variations.

“I assume this is a form of task paralysis?” Dante guessed.

“I guess,” Jiji answered.

“How long?”

“An hour.”

Dante sent the paper planes back into flight, “Need to step out for a minute?”

“Marilyn’s talking with her cheer team about Friday’s game. Alice has a test. Also, she got her car stolen because of paperwork, so I’m trying not to go over and burn down Mercedes’ ‘Safe Landing’.”

Dante made a note to see about getting Jiji into cognitive behavioral therapy.

“Please continue to do so,” Dante commented.

“I still want to go over there.”

“Please don’t.”

“Professor, I offered to pay for a car, but Alice said no. I reminded her that I could snap my fingers and,”

The papers unfolded as they shrunk. They turned green. Then they all flew into a nice pile. Of $100 bills next to the fire pit.

Dante cared very much that the pit was on. She carefully grabbed the stack. Then debated throwing it into the pit after seeing who was on it.

Madam President Dante Barrett.

“You’ve still got that card?”

Dante snapped her fingers, summoning it, “Came in handy when I needed gas.”

“Exactly!” Jiji sat up, “That took like, 2 percent of my magic to make! I can pay off all of her bills! Buy her food! Spoil her rotten! And she…she said ‘no’!”

Dante found the problem right away. She just had to guide Jiji through it.

“You’re upset because you want to be Alice’s sugar momma, and she won’t let you?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Let’s flip this: what do you want from Alice?”

“Nothing. I just want to read books with her. Watch a football game.” Jiji’s tone softened, “Give her kisses goodnight. Listen to her voice.”

“And what do you think Alice wants from you?”

Jiji sat normally on her couch. Legs crossed. Hand fidgeting with her hair. As if the answer would untangle from strands.

“Well, I know she doesn’t want sex.”

Dante withheld sarcastic comments.

“What does she want?” Dante reiterated

“She…wants,” Jiji pondered.

Not for very long. Not after she remembered what Tatiana said about Marilyn.

“I should ask her what she wants.”

Dante patted Jiji’s shoulder, “Good girl.” She used Jiji as leverage to get up. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Before Dante walked off, Jiji had to ask, “By the way, Professor, what do you think Ford might be?”

Professor Barrett was many things. A woman battling with anxiety. A history buff. The smartest person in her house. An over-thinker.

“You should ask him.”

A snitch was not one of them.

End