I do not own any rights whatsoever to Edward Scissorhands. I neither endorse, nor do I intend to defame Mary Kay products in any way. (In other words, it's fiction, people: deal with it!)
This was supposed to be posted on April 1st, but The Site was being snarky.
Mary Sue Sells Mary Kay
Mary Sue Ledbetter was quite a success in her field. She made direct cosmetic sales look easy, and it was rumored by certain members of her downline (and no few of her competitors) that she was perfect. Miss Ledbetter would have laughed if anyone had said such a thing to her face; her, perfect? How silly! True, she had silky blonde hair that tumbled down her back in rippling waves, big blue eyes that sparkled merrily during her waking hours, and she had mastered the art of grooming - but perfect? Absurd! After all, her big blue eyes needed contact lenses, thunderstorms turned her into a quivering coward, and she had a terrible absent-minded streak - manifested by the gruesome death of any houseplant she attempted to succor, and a tendency to run out of gas at inconvenient times.
Although she was, at twenty-six, still single, she had a loving family: parents (two, happily married to each other), an older sister, a younger brother, and assorted relatives perched on various branches of the family tree. (In the case of her cousin Sam, literally - but that, dear Reader, is another tale - !) Recently, on a whim, she had responded to a personal ad from a gentleman who was looking for love, but he'd fallen for someone else before Mary Sue had gotten a chance to meet him. Still, he'd been very nice, compensating her generously for her cancelled travel plans as well as sending a case of Wonka's Vivacious Violet Creams (her favorite confection).
As a result of Mr. Wonka's gift, Mary Sue Ledbetter felt able to take a break from her eventful and satisfying career in order to visit her sister, Lisa Ann. Mary Sue had also lately achieved one of her highest ambitions, that of acquiring the Pretty Pink Car, so the idea of a trip from her home in Savannah to her sister's residence in Florida was quite appealing. Lisa Ann was happily married and had produced a twin son and daughter just a few months before our story begins, and Mary Sue looked forward to seeing her niece and nephew for the first time - aside from pictures, which aren't nearly as loveable, since they don't respond when you coo at them.
On her way to Utopia, where Lisa Ann resided en famile, Mary Sue was so happily engrossed in playing with the features of the Pretty Pink Car that she accidentally drove past an exit she should have taken. By the time she realized her error, she was forty miles past where she was supposed to be.
Since there was no special time that she had to be at her sister's home, Mary Sue wasn't worried on that account, but she was concerned when she realized that she was overdue for a fresh application of moisturizer and sunblock, a regular moisturizing regimen being essential to good skin care. She dreaded the prospect of sunburn, which might lead to - horrors! - peeling.
Mary Sue took the next available exit, hoping for a rest stop where she might forestall the incipient damage to her epidermis. However, the off-ramp she took emerged onto a two-lane road, quite undeveloped, and to add insult to injury, there was no on-ramp to return her the way she came.
After a moment of pondering, Mary Sue pointed the Pretty Pink car in the direction, she would've taken if she'd gotten off at the correct exit. There was little traffic on the road, and Mary Sue hoped she hadn't made a mistake. She seemed to be going in the right direction, though, and nearly an hour later, she was delighted to see a sign reading "Utopia, 5 miles".
As if on cue, the Pretty Pink car hiccuped and rolled to a stop. Mary Sue was out of gas. "Drat!" she said in mild vexation.
There was only one habitation nearby. How absolutely cliché, she thought, looking up at it. Not much was visible from the road, but it looked suspiciously like a castle. Having been a "Rocky Horror" cast member in her frivolous youth, she knew it ought to be raining. That looked like a possibility in the near future, so she put up the top on the Pretty Pink car, looked reflexively for the "Cleveland Plain Dealer" (which, of course, did not manifest itself; although there was a pink umbrella in with her luggage), then grabbed her purse and make up bag - the latter being much the larger of the two.
Marching boldly through the wrought-iron gates which stood conveniently ajar, she raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow at the sight of a thriving herd of topiary hippotomi. Promising herself that if the door was answered by Riff-Raff, she would flee, screaming, Mary Sue climbed the steps to the front door of the über-gothic mansion. She was not disappointed to find a big bronze knocker rather than a perfectly ordinary doorbell, or something equally outré.
The front door was simply spectacular. There were detailed carvings all over it, and she was fascinated. Bending to see the carvings better, she squinted at the minute details. The scene depicted was quite intricate, and as she blinked and tried to focus, the inevitable happened: she lost a contact lens.
Stooping to try to locate the errant optic aid, she was crouched in a rather undignified position when the heavy door swung inward. A pair of sturdy boots, originally black, but now quite worn confronted her. Just above the man's boots were slender legs, wrapped in black leather. In fact, there was quite a bit of black leather in evidence, garnished with studs and straps and buckles from his knees to his neck. She blinked, and felt her contact slide back into place. Ah, much better!
Mary Sue felt a pang of sympathy at the sight of him; all that black leather must be terribly uncomfortable in the Florida heat. The young man in the metal-goth regalia sported the biggest hair she'd seen in years. His unusually pale face was streaked by old and new scars. Despite that, his brown eyes were shyly friendly, and Mary Sue was reasonably sure he wasn't planning to lock her away in his dungeon or offer her up as a human sacrifice.
"Hi," she said, straightening up. "I'm on my way to Utopia, and my car ran out of gas. May I please use your phone?"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry." His voice was very soft, as if he didn't talk much. "I have no phone."
Rats. Well, the walk would be good exercise. "I'm so sorry I bothered you," she said, and turned to leave. Right on cue, the dark clouds overhead let loose their deluge. "Um, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could I wait here until it stops raining?"
"Please come in," he invited.
It wasn't until he closed the door behind her that she noticed the most striking thing about him, as if his appearence wasn't rather remarkable to begin with. Below his elbows, where one would usually find a person's hands, he had a series of articulated metal blades.
"Oh, my!" she said faintly, reconsidering the prospects of becoming a human sacrifice.
"I won't hurt you," the young man said earnestly. He didn't come any closer, and Mary Sue swallowed.
Somewhere - Reader's Digest, she thought - Mary Sue had read that when confronted by a potential homicidal maniac, the best thing to do was to speak soothingly and make them think of you as a fellow human being rather than a disposable object. She hoped it was true.
"My name is Mary Sue Ledbetter," she introduced herself.
"I'm Edward Scissorhands," said the potential homicidal maniac.
Swell.
Mary Sue hadn't risen high in the ranks of her chosen profession by being a shrinking violet, even if she did adore violet cremes. She talked about her sister and the twins, her trip, and at last, her business. To Edward's comment that he'd once had a friend who was an Avon lady, she managed not to roll her eyes, and offered him a free facial.
During the course of the very rainy afternoon, which turned into a "spa day", Mary Sue soon got over feeling intimidated by Edward. It didn't take her long to come to the conclusion that he was sweet and painfully shy, and not deliberately dangerous to anyone. He was a perfect gentleman, keeping his hands to himself in every sense of the word. Her adroit questions got the full story of how he'd been created, and his long-ago adventures in suburbia.
"I think those people sound awfully rude," she said indignantly. "Treating you like some kind of glorified hedge-trimmer! Or hitting on you for free haircuts! That's terrible!" Mary Sue realized how sad Edward looked. "I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else, I didn't mean to stir up unhappy memories."
By the time Mary Sue had finished her makeover on Edward, the scars were minimized; his skin tone was fair, but not stark, and although it wasn't part of the usual company procedure at all, Mary Sue had given him a sleek haircut that got the snarls out of his hair and complimented the shape of his face. The finished results looked less like a slasher from a horror film and more like a GQ model whose career had been cut short by an unfortunate accident.
The rain showed no sign of letting up, and it was getting late. Mary Sue gratefully accepted Edward's offer to stay the night, since thunder and lightning were beginning to accompany the rain, which until that point had simply been wet.
Edward showed her to a bedroom which he told her had been his creator's. It was still habitable...well, barely, she thought, looking around. The roof didn't leak, but there were dust and cobwebs everywhere. She could certainly do something about that, since she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep with the storm still crashing and booming. Putting on gloves so she wouldn't ruin her manicure, Mary Sue got to work.
A few hours later, she went looking for Edward, who had assured her that he didn't need sleep. "Do you know where those hands are?" she asked him. "Because I found this book, and I think I might be able to complete the installation for you." The heavy volume contained detailed notes, and amounted to an owner's manual for Edward. As she had hoped, Edward had kept the unused appendages "just in case".
Athough such a momentous task might have been daunting to a lesser woman, Mary Sue had once single-handedly assembled a computer armoire straight out of the box in forty-five minutes, using only a Swiss Army knife and a glass of iced sweet tea. This was much simpler.
"Edward, may I shake your hand?" she asked as he flexed his new fingers with a wondering expression on his face. He extended both hands at once, and with a smile, Mary Sue shook them both. The look on his face tickled her; he was blissful and surprised and curious all at the same time.
Slowly releasing her fingers from his, Edward lightly explored her palms, her fingers, nails, cuticles (She was very glad she'd worn the gloves to clean in.) then began to trace his way across the back of her hand. The tips of his fingers stroked the soft underside of her wrists...Mary Sue let her palm curl slightly upward to mirror the faint touch on his bare wrist, and Edward gasped at the sensation.
For a moment, he looked away from their hands and into her eyes, a searching look that made Mary Sue's heart beat faster.
Just then, a tremendous crash of thunder sounded all around them, and they both jumped. Edward's arms somehow wound up around Mary Sue, and Mary Sue's arms went around Edward. Mary Sue was shaking because Mother Nature was so close and Edward was shaking because Mary Sue was so close.
Overcoming his fear gradually, Edward held the shivering Mary Sue as she hid her face against his shoulder. He gently stroked her cascading golden tresses. Her hair was as soft as snowflakes, but ever-so-much warmer, and was lightly scented with a fragrance that made him of think of roses. Her knit cotton dress offered a different, but no less interesting, texture to his other hand, and there was something sticking out just a little...
Whatever it was, it moved, and so did the fabric, parting to allow his hand to caress the warm skin beneath.
"Edward," Mary Sue murmured, raising her head, "what are you doing with my zipper?"
"I'm sorry. Did I break it?"
There was another loud boom of thunder, but this time, Mary Sue didn't fully register it because Edward was much closer. "No, Edward honey," she answered, stroking the strong contours of his smooth jawline. "You're doing just fine."
The morning dawned clear and bright, not that Mary Sue was awake to greet it. Edward was awake, but he had watched a great many sunrises throughout his lonesome years, and found the sight of the slumbering Mary Sue Ledbetter much more interesting. It was with great difficulty that he restrained himself from reaching out to touch her tender pink skin with his marvelous new hands.
When she awoke, Mary Sue quickly took charge of the situation. First she gave Edward a lesson in facial cleansing and the proper application of foundation. She hurried out to the Pretty Pink car for her luggage, and was able to provide him with a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. The tee shirt was a bit loose, but the jeans were a good fit, and the man who had looked quite scary the day before looked, well, for want of a better word, yummy. Still a little worn around the edges, true, but now he radiated happiness and good grooming.
It turned out that there was a gas station less than a mile away, and they walked there together. This was the first time Edward had left the grounds of the mansion in a very long time, and he was fascinated by all the changes. Purchasing a can of gasoline and breakfast for them both, Mary Sue smiled as Edward eagerly offered to carry the gas can back to the Pretty Pink car. Wasn't it funny how running out of gas could actually be a good thing?
Lisa Ann, who was delighted to see her sister, was even more delighted to meet her sister's new boyfriend. While Edward was gazing, awestruck at the 48-inch flat screen TV in the family room, she gave her sister an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "You did good, little sister! He's a hottie!"
Mary Sue agreed. "He's also a good person," she told her sibling. "You have no idea what a sad life he's had, but he's still very sweet and tender."
"How does he feel about your career?"
There was a dimpled grin at the corners of Mary Sue's lovely lips and her big blue eyes twinkled as she looked toward the quiet man. "I think I've got a customer for life." Not that she really considered Edward a customer. He was simply Edward, and she took pleasure in the way he derived such enjoyment from simple things most people take for granted.
That she returned home from Florida with a boyfriend didn't surprise any of Mary Sue's friends in Savannah, who were resigned to things turning out fortuitously for the beautiful cosmetics purveyor.
In due course, she and Edward married, sold the Florida property for development as a gothic theme park, and lived happily ever after.
What can I say? Sometimes, a Mary Sue is the best thing that can happen to a guy.