Jane And Her Box

Happy birthday to me. And quite the birthday it’s been so far. My parents don’t care, my friends haven’t said anything about it, Mason couldn’t care less about me unless I’m on the clock, and Phoibe just won’t talk to me. Oh, yeah. This is a birthday for the ages. To think that other 25 year olds are probably planning to get absolutely wasted right about now. And here I am, sitting at home with a TV dinner, all by myself, waiting for it to pass by. Quarter of a century, ladies and gentlemen. This is what life leads to. Whoopty doo.

I flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch. I’m not just gonna be unloved and bored on top of it. But as I’m channel surfing, I get a knock on my door and a few rings on my doorbell, taking me off guard. Oh, I knew it. I knew they’d never just leave me alone on my birthday. Friends really are the best thing on Earth.

I step out of bed and step in front of the mirror, making sure I don’t look too gross. And…I’m manageable, I guess. I put on my sneakers and walk downstairs in pursuit of the door so this birthday can officially get started. I open the door to reveal…the mailman. Yup. That’s how it works. I should’ve known.

“Hey, there,” he greets, reading his notepad, “Nicholas Drow?”

“Yup,” I say with a sigh,

“Alright, Mr. Drow. I’ve got a package for ya.”

“Thanks.”

He hands me a pretty sizable box. Um…ok, nevermind the fact that I think I’m supposed to sign for this, but also, I don’t remember buying anything. As I gander at the box, I hear him say,

“Alrighty, have a great rest of your day. Oh, and don’t be so down. It is your birthday.”

This immediately catches my attention. I’ve never even seen this guy before. How could he possibly know that? I lift my head up to ask him, but once I do, he’s gone. Ok. Ominous. Well, I’ve still got this box. Nothing wrong with a free gift, I guess.

I shut the door and walk back upstairs, observing the box in my hands. Who could’ve sent me this? I thought everyone was either too busy or didn’t care. Could they just have felt guilty and just wanted to get me something to make up for not being here? I mean, I’ll take it. As long as I’m still remembered. Thanks, you guys.

I remove the lid of the box, revealing something I haven’t even heard of in years. I didn’t even know that they still made these. I mean, to be fair, what kid nowadays is gonna ask for a Jack-in-a-box. Oh, ha ha, guys. Yeah, I’m an oldie. Thanks for the reminder. The 25 in my age didn’t tell me that I’m old already. Glad to have you guys for reassurance. Why do I even have friends?

I take the box out, getting a better look at it. But as I do, I notice some obvious differences in other Jack-in-a-box toys and this one. First, it’s not Jack. It says Jane-in-a-box. And there’s a note on the side of it that reads,

“Congratulations! You’re in possession of your very own Jane-in-a-box: a compact friend for any occasion if you find yourself alone. Just give her a crank and if you so desire, she will return the favor. 😉 Use responsibly.”

Alright, that’s a weird way to boost sales. I guess it’s solid for an adult themed toy. That last part kinda indicates that to be the case. And if it is what I think it is, I don’t think I’ve ever been so immensely insulted in my entire life. Not only are you just gonna make me think that you forgot about me and not only are you calling me old, but you’re just gonna make fun of me for being a virgin, too? These guys are the Grand Central Station of a good time, apparently. But you know what? What the hell? They already went through all this trouble. So fine, anonymous jokester. I’ll humor you. I sit on my bed before grabbing the crank and turning it.

“Round and round the cobbler’s bench

The monkey chased the weasel,

The monkey thought ’twas all in fun”

I keep turning, trying to reach the climax of the song, but it’s not happening. Great. So not only am I being laughed at, but now I’m left dissatisfied. Cause why not give me a defective toy? This has Daniel’s dumbass name written all over it. I turn around to grab my phone and call him, but I can’t seem to find it. What the hell?

“Looking for this?” I hear a light British voice say as I see my phone dangling in my face.

Who. The fuck. Said that? I’m frozen in place. Who else is here? This is my house. I didn’t invite anyone over. I didn’t even hear anything before this. I eventually gather the balls to turn around to see a girl. She looks…strange. She’s wearing a very vibrant jester costume, complete with a red nose, a white shirt with rainbow stripes along with suspenders covering her b cup chest, pearly white gloves, colorful frilly thigh high stockings complemented with a black polka dot patterned skirt, a short french bob hairstyle with a half black and half red pattern, and two smiley faces painted on her cheeks.

I’m in pure shock. Who is this girl? Where did she come from? What’s with that costume? Why does she have my phone? What is going on?

“Hiya,” she says, sparatically waving at me, “I’m your Jane. Nice to meetcha.”

Uh…what?

“My…Jane?” is all I can manage to utter out,

“Well, yeah. You read the box, didn’t you? See? Right here.”

She picks up the box and presents it to me, pointing at the note.

“‘Your very own Jane-in-a-box’,” she quotes, “Says so right there. I’m officially yours. Yours to do anything you desire. Any kind of fun that you wanna have, I’m right here to do it with ya. Forever.”

I’m so lost right now. What is going on right now? I’m not dreaming. Everything’s too consistent. I don’t drink or anything, so that’s out of the question. So what the hell?

“Well, don’t just stand there like a tuna,” she says, confusing me even more before she nudges me, “Let’s have some fun. What are ya in the mood for? Gaming while I blow you? Cockwarming while watching the game? You wanna play with my ass, while I bark for you? You wanna be my daddy? Whatever your heart desires, so shall it be.”

Ok, woah. That’s just…wow. She’s not afraid to get to the point, is she?

“Ok, ok, hold on,” I say, “I don’t even know you. What are you doing in my house? How’d you even get in here? Nothing about this makes any sense.”

“Oooh, so you’re one of those,” she replies with a laugh, “You like to get dirty after introductions. I can respect that. Well, I’m a magical being that arrived from this box, here. See? That’s me.”

That picture was not there before. What the hell?

“Anyway,” she continues, “Whenever you turn this crank, I show up like this.”

She turns the crank, reaching the climax of the song, earning a little toy version of her to pop from the box.

“Aww, ain’t she a cutie?” she says, staring in adoration at the toy before tossing it aside, “And after I come, I’ll make sure you do, too. You can be as rough, soft, passionate, dirty, long, or short with me as you want. Then when you’re satisfied, just say the word and I’ll be back in the box, getting out of your way until you wanna be drained again. Or if you really want me to show how wife material I am, I can also make you dinner if you so choose. Results may vary. So that’s basically everything. Anything else you wanna know before we get started?”

Alright, so I’ve officially gone insane. There’s no way that any of this is reality. But fuck it. If I’m gonna forever be trapped in my own twisted mind, I guess I’ll just play along.

“Ok, Jane, the magical being,” I start, “With all this stuff that you say you can do, does that mean you’ve been in the business since the beginning of time?”

“Not really,” she answers, “I’ve just been in business for around 60 years.”

“60, huh?”

“Yup.