The Sock That Lauched a Thousand Ships.

[Mercedes Langstrom]

"CHARLIE IM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Mercedes shriek could be heard down the hall and with the traveling of her voice a few of the residents walking down the hall sped up or ducked back into their rooms. They all knew that when Mercedes voice rose above the decibels of a jet engine all hell was about to break lose. Most knew what had landed her here. People had been warned and had seen Mercedes fly off the handle more then once. She was no stranger to the padded cell at the end of the hall.

The door of her room flew open with such force that when it hit the wall it bounced back almost closing on her and she slipped out her hand clenched white knuckled. Her eyes shot daggers at a passerby causing them to quickly skitter down the hall.

"CHARLIE"

Mercedes turned to the door next to hers and proceeded to bang on his door the object hanging lip in her hand. This was the last straw for Charlie. She knew he did it just for fun but ENOUGH. It was her room and she did not appreciate him defacing it every single day. She heard him shuffle in his room and her shoulders tensed. If he did not open this door in the next two seconds she was getting and attending. A little story of attempted suicide would make them open the door pretty fast.

The second charlie opened the door her hand flew up dangling the object in front of his face. It was....du du duuu a sock. Yes poor Charlie was about to die over a sock.

"HOW many times do I have to tell you it's NOT funny to leave your DIRTY man socks in MY ROOM!"

With a flick of her wrist the sock soared through the air and landed on his desk teetering dangerously on one of his trinkets and finally after a few breath holding seconds the object fell causing a domino affect across his desk until the last object fell landing in the waist bit on the floor.

"HA!"

[Charlie]

Charlie stood, frozen in peril as he watched the first object on his desk tumbled through the air, the air freshener landing in the trash. The impeding sock lying on his desk. When he turned, he hoped Mercedes wasn't still standing there.

He looked over his shoulder first, black bangs falling in his face. She was still there. A Grin plastered on her face.
"Merecedes, you are very lucky it's an odd weekend," Charlie said low, fists closing gently.
"I don't hit girls on odd weekends of the month. Now if it was next weekend, they'd need to call the orderlies to drug me to save you." He saw her grin falter for one moment before she turned and walked back to er stark white door, shutting it quietly behind her. Charlie walked back to his maple wood desk, picking the air freshener from the trash bin, easy to find on top of the neatly folded papers. He brushed it off twice with his left hand, blew on it twice, and set it back onits holder, smiling. he remebered this piece. Stolen from the rear view mirror of the hot french teacher that couldn't keep her hands to herself. He began picking up the other pieces, the same routine to clean them off. Brush twice with the left, blow twice, and place on the clear plastic stand. His desk held so many of the objects, it was easily half an hour before they were all stacked and ready. Something that took so long to assemble, yet less than a minute to knock down.

Charlie picked up the sock. Mercedes was wrong. The crisp white sock was clean. He knew because dirty sock are turned inside out and folded neatly in a basket in the small nightstand by the dresser. He smiled, Picking a few more clean socks out of his drawer, and left his room silently, he put his ear to the door, listening for any movement. Nothing. He opened the door a crack; she was reading. Charlies smile couldn't have been any bigger if he had opened the door to showering playmates.

Opening the door silently, he threw the socks in the air, watching them fall randomly over her room, and ran into his room and shut it behind him, plopping into his chair, rolling to the desk and proping his feet up with Hustler open in his hands and pants unzipped, but nothing exposed. He heard her scream, louder than the last, and smiled.

He dared her to be mad at him in this position.

[Mercedes Langstrom]

Mercedes silently watched as Charlie sat their threatening her with bodily harm. Did he not remember that she was the ninja wielder of frying pan...or anything heavy or hard for that matter. A chair perhaps? One of Charlie's special edition Playboys. The smile faltered off her lips and she just turned around knowing nothing she could say would cause more damage then the sock had. Oh the joy that small sock had caused.

The door closed with a snap behind her and she quickly crawled on her bed a book that she had been reading last night until the last second before lights out. The pages were worn well and the spine had had such use that it laid flat without anyone holding it down. The faded gold lettering on the top of the book caught the florescent lights slightly. With a strained eye you could just read the title.
Alice in Wonderland.
Reading it always made Mercedes see that her brain wasn't as fucked up as some peoples... I mean come on the caterpillar who is smoking a water bong and his words are spelled out in smoke. Ya that seems perfectly sane to me. The further she got into the book the more detached she got from reality. So detached that she hadn't seen of heard Charlie opening her door or the socks falling to the floor until one hit her foot.

Her heart seemed to beat out of her chest as she looked around the room seeing a dozen of so white socks littering her floor. She was in such shock that her mind seemed to stop. The book fell from her hands landing cover up on her bed and staying there as she tore out of the room and into Charlie's room. the white door opened quietly as she dove in skidding to a quick stop taking in Charlie's..."position". If he though that him masturbating was going to stop her rampage she was wrong.

With the speed of a lightening strike Mercedes hand flew out and gripped his Hustler, ripping it from his hands. If you can't beat them (literally) steal their "reading" material. Mercedes tore out of the open door and down the hall the Hustler raised high in the air and waving wildly as Mercedes sang.
"I have got a lovely bunch of coconuts. All of them a standing in a row."

She was about to head into the rec. room she her eyes caught sight of Dr. Martin talking to one of the patients that were sitting by the window. With the skill of a linebacker she changed her line of fire and careened around a corner hearing Charlie skid around the corner. Haha the socks fight back. Mercedes, like now, was usually found barefoot because she found it easier to run away from Charlie and Attendings.

With one last turn she burst into the woman's bathroom taking hold of a page and giving it a quick tug so that the *rip* that issued from it was loud enough for Charlie to hear. She knew she had all of three seconds to finish her plan before he was on her. She shouldered open a stall door dropping the centerfold in the toilet just as Charlie entered the bathroom to see her waving at the swirling water.

"Good By Miss Centerfold goodbyyyyyyyyye"

[Charlie]

Charlie saw Mercedes change her path from the rec rooms to the 3rd floor bathrooms, and the cause. Dr. Martin probably wouldn't like to see two patients, one still buttoning his pants chacing the other with a pornographic magazine waving in the air. He tried to make the same hairpin turn, and the cursed, backstabbing socks slipped out from under him. Charlie caught himself much like, and he hated to use a baseball reference, Derek Jeter hooking his hand around second, and regained his balance rather quickly and took off just in time to hear a loud ripping noise from the women's bathroom.

If she thought a women logo would stop him, Mercedes thought wrong. Charlie slammed through the door, found Mercedes in the third stall, waving goodbye to Miss Centerfold in the toilet. I looked over her shoulder, watching the crumpled piece of paper circle the drain then through the pipe. Theres no way that toilet will work later, Charlie caught himself thinking, rather than mourning over the centerfold. There were others.
"Come on, she had a nice rack man," he whined, taking the magazine back, walking out of the bathroom. Checking around the corner, Charlie scurried back down the hall to his room, dodging the other klepto kid, and shutting the door behind him. He put the magazine back in the drawer of his desk. Good thing it wasn't really his, he had stolen it from some guy in his boarding school. Mercedes evidently didn't care if had really been getting off. Unfortunately that made him want to get off. Instead of pulling out a better magazine, Charlie went to Mercedes room and picked up his socks, refolding them and putting them back in his dresser drawer.

He heard her shut the door next to him, and he sat on his bed, back against the footboard, as he wadded up a pair of his socks into a ball. Charlie smiled, knowing that even if he did hate playing or watching baseball, he did know how to play catch.

Bouncing the slightly squishy ball against the wall, he heard the sound of the socks hitting the wall clear enough, and knew it would annoy her more than the pile of socks.

I really do love you Mercedes, Charlie thought. But theres no one else to really pick on.