"It Came from the Refrigerator" Tiny Terry chapter 7 by KoroKoroAi

Terry looked up at the movie board, then back at Hazel's expectant face, then at the growing line of annoyed mallgoers behind them.

 

"Horror," he said quickly, just to end this. "The horror one."

 

Hazel's eyes went wide. Her mouth formed a perfect little O.

 

"Horror? Really? Oh, Terry, I don't know..." She bit her lip, her brow furrowing. "What if I get scared? What if there's blood? I don't like blood. Blood is yucky. Remember when Kayla cut her finger and I almost fainted? (´;ω;`)"

 

"You'll be fine," Terry said. "It's just a movie. It's probably not even that scary. It's called 'It Came From The Refrigerator.' That sounds stupid. It's probably a comedy."

 

Hazel gasped, offended. "It is NOT stupid! It's a HORROR movie! The trailer had screaming in it!"

 

The ticket girl smacked her gum and sighed so loud it echoed.

 

"Ma'am," the ticket girl said again. "People are waiting."

 

"Oh, sorry!" Hazel chirped, spinning back around. "Two tickets for It Came From The Refrigerator please! And the biggest popcorn you have! The BIGGEST one! With extra butter!"

 

The ticket girl tapped at her screen, her eyes still flicking down to Hazel's chest every few seconds. She printed the tickets, took their mom's credit card, handed everything over. Hazel shoved the tickets into the pocket of her dress and practically skipped toward the concession stand.

 

"I'm so excited!" Hazel squealed, bouncing with each step. Terry bounced in her palm. Her breasts bounced in her dress. Everything bounced. "I haven't seen a horror movie in the theater since that one about the doll! Remember that one? I screamed so loud the lady in front of me threw her soda! It was so embarrassing! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)"

 

The concession stand was packed. Hazel squeezed her way to the front, holding Terry up like a trophy, and beamed at the pimple-faced boy behind the counter.

 

"One extra large popcorn please! The biggest bucket you have! With extra butter! And two straws for the soda machine!"

 

The boy blinked at her. Then his eyes dropped to her chest. Then back to her face. Then back to her chest.

 

"Uh," he said. "Yeah. Okay. One sec."

 

He disappeared into the back and came out holding a bucket so large it looked like a kiddie pool. It was wider than Hazel's torso, a massive cardboard tub that could probably fit a small dog.

 

"Whoa," Hazel breathed. "That's huge! (✪ω✪)"

 

She put Terry down on the counter, his feet touching the sticky surface, and grabbed the bucket with both hands. But the bucket was too big. Too wide. She couldn't hold it and hold Terry at the same time. Her fingers scrambled against the printed cardboard, trying to find a grip, and the bucket wobbled dangerously.

 

"Terry, hold on!" she said. "I need... I need both hands... just wait..."

 

She looked down at him, then at the butter dispenser, then back at him. An idea formed behind her eyes.

 

"Okay, okay, I got this. Just stay there!"

 

She scooped him up again, quick as a flash, and placed him on the rim of the bucket. Then she grabbed the bucket with one hand and the butter pump with the other. She pressed the pump. Golden, warm, salty butter squirted out in a thick stream, coating the popcorn in a glossy sheen.

 

But the butter pump was slippery. Her hand slipped. The nozzle turned.

 

And a jet of warm, buttery oil shot directly at Terry.

 

It hit him square in the chest. The heat was immediate, not burning but definitely hot, and the smell was overwhelming. Salt. Butter. Oil. It soaked through his shirt in seconds, clinging to his skin, dripping down his legs. He was drenched. Completely soaked in movie theater butter.

 

"AH!" Hazel gasped. "Terry! I'm so sorry! Oh no, oh no, oh no!"

 

She grabbed him, her fingers slick with butter, and lifted him up to her face. He was dripping. Greasy and shiny and absolutely reeking of fake butter flavoring.

 

"You're all buttery!" Hazel laughed, and she couldn't stop laughing, her shoulders shaking, her eyes crinkling. "Oh my gosh, Terry, you look like a little popcorn chicken! (≧▽≦)"

 

She licked her thumb and wiped it across his cheek, smearing the butter more than cleaning it. Then she giggled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, her lips sticky and warm.

 

"Sorry, sorry," she said, still giggling. "I didn't mean to. You're just so tiny and I got excited and... okay, okay, I have an idea!"

 

She looked at the popcorn bucket. She looked at Terry. She looked at the bucket again.

 

"Up you go!"

 

Before Terry could protest, Hazel lifted him up and dropped him onto the pile of popcorn. He landed with a soft crunch, sinking into the warm, salty kernels. Butter soaked into his clothes, his hair, his skin. The popcorn shifted under his weight, and he had to scramble to keep from falling into the abyss.

 

"There!" Hazel said, beaming. "Now you can watch the movie from the popcorn! And you're already buttery so it's perfect! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶"

 

She picked up the bucket with both hands, cradling it against her chest, and walked toward the theater doors. Terry clung to a piece of popcorn, his fingers digging into the fluffy kernel, and tried not to think about how humiliating this was.

 

The theater was dark and cold and smelled like old soda and feet. Hazel found two seats in the middle, the big plush kind that reclined and had cup holders in the armrests. She settled into one of them with a satisfied sigh, the bucket resting on her lap, and pulled out her phone to check the time.

 

"We're just in time!" she whispered. "The previews are starting!"

 

She grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it into her mouth, chewing happily. Kernels crunched between her teeth. Terry had to dodge her fingers as they dove back in for more.

 

"Stay on top, little bro!" Hazel said, her voice muffled by popcorn. "I don't want to accidentally eat you! (•᷄⌓•᷅)"

 

The previews started. Loud. Explosions. Car chases. A romantic comedy where two people clearly hated each other but were going to fall in love anyway. Hazel commented on every single one.

 

"Oh, that dress is so pretty!"
"His hair looks weird."
"Wow, that explosion was so fake!"
"I want to go to Paris so bad!"

 

Terry shushed her.

 

"Sorry," she whispered, grinning.

 

The lights dimmed further. The screen went black. And then the movie began.

 

"It Came From The Refrigerator" was exactly as stupid as Terry expected. The plot was barely there. A family moved into a new house. Their refrigerator was old and creepy. Strange noises came from it at night. The mom opened it and something green and slimy grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.

 

Hazel screamed.

 

"SHH!" Terry hissed.

 

"Sorry!"

 

The movie continued. The family discovered that the refrigerator was a portal to another dimension. The slimy monster thing was actually a alien that wanted to eat human flesh. The special effects were terrible. The monster looked like a pile of green jello with teeth. Every time it appeared, Hazel gasped or squealed or grabbed the armrest.

 

"This is so scary!" she whispered, her eyes huge. "Terry, are you scared? I'm scared! Hold my hand!"

 

She shoved her hand into the popcorn bucket, her fingers searching for his, and wrapped them around his body. Her grip was warm and buttery and she squeezed him gently, like a stress ball.

 

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll protect you. (◕‿◕✿)"

 

The monster ate the dad. The mom cried. The teenage daughter tried to call for help but the phone lines were dead. A jump scare made Hazel yelp so loud that the person in front of her turned around and glared.

 

"Sorry," Hazel whispered, her cheeks pink.

 

Then, about halfway through the movie, a woman spoke up from a few seats over.

 

"Can you please be quiet?"

 

The voice was sharp. Annoyed. Terry turned his head and saw a girl sitting two seats away. She was maybe 19, with bright red hair pulled into a high ponytail, and she was wearing a tight black tank top that showed off breasts that were even bigger than Hazel's. They were enormous, straining against the fabric, and she had her arms crossed under them in a way that pushed them up even more. Her face was bratty. Perfect makeup. Glossy lips pulled into a frown. She looked at Hazel like Hazel was a bug she wanted to squash.

 

"Oh," Hazel said, her voice small. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be loud. I just get really into movies. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)"

 

"Well, get less into them," the redhead said. She flicked her ponytail and turned back to the screen. "Some of us are trying to watch."

 

Hazel's bottom lip trembled. She looked down at Terry, her eyes wide and watery.

 

"I'm being annoying," she whispered. "She thinks I'm annoying. (｡╯︵╰｡)"

 

"Just be quiet," Terry whispered back. "It's fine."

 

Hazel nodded and pressed her lips together. She grabbed another handful of popcorn and stuffed it into her mouth, chewing silently, her eyes fixed on the screen.

 

The movie got dumber. The monster grew bigger. The teenage girl discovered that the only way to kill the monster was to throw a battery pack into the refrigerator, which somehow caused a time paradox that made the monster explode. But then there were even more monsters. It made no sense. The dialogue was terrible. The acting was worse.

 

But Hazel loved every second of it. Her eyes sparkled. Her mouth hung open. She gasped at the right moments and clutched Terry through the popcorn and kicked her feet against the floor whenever something exciting happened.

 

The climax of the movie arrived. The teenage girl stood in front of the gigantic mother refrigerator in another dimension, battery pack in hand, ready to throw it inside. The monster was catching up behind her, slimy and green and covered in teeth. The music swelled. The girl looked back at the monster, screamed, and threw the battery pack.

 

But then the door swung open. A green, slimy tentacle shot out. And the mother of the monsters burst out of the refrigerator. It was huge. Bigger than all the others. Covered in slime and teeth and eyes that rolled in every direction. It roared, a sound that shook the theater speakers, and lunged toward the screen.

 

"AHHH!"

 

Hazel screamed. Not a little gasp. A full, throaty, terrified scream. Her entire body jerked in her seat. Her legs kicked out. Her arms flailed. And Terry went flying. The popcorn bucket tipped. Kernels scattered through the air like confetti. And Terry, tiny and butter-soaked and weightless, was launched into the darkness. He tumbled. He spun. The theater lights were dim, the screen was bright, and everything was a blur of motion and sound.

 

But where was he going to land?