The Human Canvas, Part 2: Tee Pee

“Tell me something interesting about yourself,” Tess tells Martin. “Tell me something that you would keep as a secret from most people.”

“A secret? Whatever secrets I want to keep are kept for a reason.” Martin has no desire to mention the theft of Hilda’s car, his feelings about his sister or his parents, his hopes of somehow getting money from Landon...

“Yes, of course, but what major consequence would there be from telling me of all people?” Tess places another line of paint with a steady hand as Martin watches.

“I can’t say. It might give too much away.” Martin grins at Tess, but she just shakes her head.

“That’s childish. You could probably get more out of life if you were more honest.”

“Oh what, that’s the big conclusion you’ve come to after observing me for all of two days?”

“Not at all. I’d say that’s good advice for most anyone with your maturity level.” Tess continues to paint with a striking calm.

“Screw you,” Martin says, realizing too late that maybe storming off is a mark of immaturity. He follows through with it regardless. Whatever Tommy and Landon are discussing can’t be too important to interrupt, right? “Hey Tommy, when do you want to go do some open mic work?”

Tommy struggles to come up with a response. “Anytime? I don’t know. I was hoping you had something planned for me since I’m more or less at your beck and call right now.”

“He’s pretty funny, Martin,” says Landon. “I don’t know if his brand of humor is quite the same, but he’s got some good material.”

Martin looks down his nose at Tommy. “Good material, sure. We’ll see. Let’s go.”

“What? No,” Tommy says, “why don’t we hang around here a bit longer? I’m sure Tess is almost done with this painting.” Then Martin remembers that he actually does need to talk to Landon, but he doesn’t really have a scheme in mind for getting money from him.

“Fine. Landon, tell me about your numerous feats. You must have a zillion stories to tell.” Martin flops onto what looks to be the comfiest part of the couch.

Landon leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, apparently his storytelling pose, and begins. “I think my story for you doesn’t actually involve any heroic feats or heartwarming encounters with the less fortunate. You might appreciate this, Martin. I was at my publisher’s building to go over the manuscript of my first book, but they had me wait outside the editor’s office for whatever reason. One of his subordinates was outside in a cubicle doing some kind of busywork, maybe editing or retyping some manuscript that was illegible, in the wrong format...you get the idea. But I looked down at her foot, and there was a parade-sized streamer of toilet paper sticking out from her shoe.” Martin gives the most incredulous look at Landon that he can muster. It sounds made up. “I considered not telling her just to see how long it would take before someone else noticed.”

“Aw, of course you told her. Pfft.”

“Well, the worst part was not the size of it or its mere existence. Even from a distance, it looked like it was just covered in shit.”

“What?” Tommy isn’t buying it. “I’m calling bullshit.”

“Nope. It looked like it had been used to wipe up an enormous amount of crap, and it was trailing from her shoe.”

“That’s disgusting,” says Tommy.

“Yes, so I got up, went over to her, and I said, ‘Excuse me, but you have some toilet paper stuck to your shoe.’ Guess what she said to me,” Landon says excitedly.

Martin says, “‘Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing.’”

Tommy says, “‘Oh, that? That’s not mine.’”

Landon shakes his head. “As soon as she turned to look at me I knew something was off. When she looked down at the toilet paper, she immediately vomited all over her lap, her shoes, my shoes...it was a mess.”

“Ew,” Tommy says.

“Jesus Christ,” Martin says as he recoils. “Why is this a good story?”

“Sorry, I know it’s disgusting. It really was a shit-stained stretch of toilet paper. Apparently this girl had just gotten the job, and her manager was on her case about taking sick time within her first couple of weeks. Poor girl had food poisoning and was trying to just hold it in or hide it so she wouldn’t have to go home. She’d been in and out of the bathroom all morning.”

“That’s the nice part about being a comedian, I think. If I have stuff coming out of both ends of my digestive tract in the morning, it’s probably just from a good night of drinking, and there’s no management of sick time or hours involved.”

“Really? Is that all there is to being a comedian?” Tommy asks.

“Basically.” Martin shrugs. “So is there more to the story?”

“Oh yes. I go in a few weeks later to pick up some free copies of the book that I wanted to give to people. They said they could just send them to me, but I figured it was a waste if I’d be around their office. So when I go in, I notice the same girl in her own office. I asked the secretary how she got her own space. ‘Oh, her manager is...no longer with us,’ she said, so I didn’t ask questions. I figured I’d congratulate her on moving up in the publishing world, though, so I went to the door to her office, knocked, and said a bit loudly, ‘No more food problems around here anymore, you hear?’ Seemed like a harmless thing to say, but I hoped she would look back on that incident humbly and maybe attempt a laugh. So then I laughed a bit to try to get her started, but I must point out that she looked horrified. People were giving me weird looks as I left, and I didn’t think much of it until later. It started to bug me, so I called up my editor and asked him if I said something wrong. Turns out her manager had choked to death the week before, and that’s how she got moved up.”

“Holy shit,” Martin says.

“I can’t believe you managed to pick the most precisely offensive thing to say there,” Tommy adds.

“I...think that’s why it’s a decent story, if I may say so,” Landon says, beaming.

“I don’t even know what to say to that. Maybe you’re just a bad person,” suggests Martin.

“Oh hush. I didn’t realize what I was saying,” Landon rebuts.

Martin glares at him. “Okay.”

Tommy shakes his head in bewilderment. Then Martin notices Mary saying something to Tess before heading into the bathroom. They are apparently finished with making art for the day. Tess puts down her brush and stretches dramatically before walking to where the men are sitting, taking her place behind Landon.

“Gentlemen, Mary has been so kind as to invite us to a party if you’re interested,” says Tess.

Martin is instantly excited by the prospect of partying with this inky sprite. “That sounds good to me...”

“Yeah, I guess I’m down,” says Tommy. The idea of Tommy getting drunk and hooking up with a hideous skank tickles Martin, and so he is glad that his apprentice will be accompanying him.

Mary comes out of the bathroom wearing a blue sundress. The girl clearly has some style. "Aw, you put your clothes back on," says Martin. She shrugs.

"I can always just take them back off once I get home." Martin closes his eyes to picture this, and it relaxes him greatly.

"Mmm, yes. That's a good point."

She looks around at Tommy, Tess, and Landon. "So are you all coming to my party tonight?" Mary asks.

"I guess so, yeah," Tommy replies.

"What's this party for anyway?" Martin asks.

"My birthday!" is her enthusiastic response.

"Oh, how old are you?" Tommy asks.

"Mary has only just turned nineteen," Tess says. Martin's heart beats just a little faster.