The Human Remote

Everyone has known at least one person that talks so much you wish you could box him or her up, slap a label on their box, ship them out, and if they were a toy they would (guaranteed) be returned because there was no ‘off’ button. At one point in my life I knew a girl that I wanted so much to box her up, and ‘accidently’ forget to write the return address. She never shut up. I know I talk a lot but sometimes my lips stop moving. She even went as far as talking in her sleep. I’ll call her Chatty Kathy.
It was just another rainy day at the ranch, and Chatty Kathy was even more talkative than normal, if that were possible. I had explored the house to try and rid myself of the boredom. I figured I might find something that would entertain me until my mom came to pick me up. The only thing I found during my search was an old TV remote. The ranch owner, Ms. T, had brought the old TV to a recycling place but couldn’t find the remote. It was an old black Samsung remote control with gnaw marks on one end. Chalupa must have gotten at it. “Crazy chiwawa” I had muttered when I saw that. It was light even though it was big. I opened the back, “No batteries.” Even if the TV were still around it would not work. It was useless, or so I thought.
After walking around some more, I walked into the living room where everyone else was, remote still in my clutch. Spiderman was on for the second time that day and everyone was half asleep. Everyone but Chatty Kathy. She was blabbing away about everything, from the first time she saw Spiderman to what names she should name her new puppy.
To me she sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher. In annoyance, but not expecting any response I held up the remote, catching the attention of everyone in the room, except for the chiwawa. I pressed the mute button and said, “Mute.” She continued talking but no words came out of her mouth. She looked over at me and winked. For an annoying little eight year old she was pretty smart sometimes. I pressed the button again and said, “Unmute” and she continued talking, “and Sandy looks beautiful going around the barrels in that red Navaho pad and black saddle. I wish…”
Everyone was amazed but I saw some faces look a bit peeved that I unmuted her. So I pressed the pause button and said, “Pause.” I caught her in the middle of a word and her hands up in the air. “Rewind.” Her hands flew around and her lips moved awkwardly. “Play.” “beautiful going around the barrels…” the remote was ripped out of my handed by Mr. J and he jabbed at the buttons and said, “Stop!” Everyone froze and looked at him. He leaned back in his leather reclining chair, put his old dirty hat over his eyes and was asleep before any of us could say anything.
Chatty Kathy sat silent and still and all of us sat in relief for a moment. Then she moved her right hand up to the nape of her neck and started off again. We all glared confusedly at her. She stopped and said, “It’s my reset button.”

Writing Prompt # 99 from:
200 Writing Prompts
By, David Stoddard

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