help! mom sold me to Disney
i tricked everyone and wrote something that wasnt even in my drafts. this is (supposed to be?) comedy and i did it for fun c: all characters belong to Disney and you belong to you… OR NOT?!
Mickey Mouse buys your OC.
You thought saw something similar in that one episode where Mickey volunteered to clean up Minnie's yard. Pressed against the glass, his round nose flattened, and his eyes took on a cutely comical "let me in, please" expression. Seeing your hesitation, Mickey snatched his signature hat from his head and waved it cheerfully. His black ears flicked charmingly.
You opened the window. It was the first time you'd actually seen him in person, and you didn't want to offend your guest by staring too much, but it was hard not to try to figure out how his flat lines somehow merged with the three-dimensional reality.
"To what do I owe the honor, Mickey?" you asked cautiously.
"Oh, come on, toots!" he laughed. "May I come in?"
"Is it about those letters?" you asked.
"Yes, yes, exactly!" Mickey exclaimed. "You see, the company was worried you weren't getting them, so I came here to check on you. Gosh, I hope I'm not interruptin' anything?"
"I'm got them," you said hastily. "It's just that there are so many of them that I couldn’t answer, and frankly, all these documents…"
"Well, then you're in luck, because I'm here to help, heh-heh!" Mickey said, bounding to the mailbox and yanking the handle with a theatrical gesture. A three-second-long flood of letters washed over him, which he hastily scooped up and hurried to the door.
Mickey looked just as natural and at ease in your room; he casually hung his hat on a nail and walked into the kitchen (you could have sworn his footsteps echoed with soft music). The human chair was too low for him, so you kindly put a pillow on it so you could see each other's eyes.
On the table in front of you sat two steaming cups of coffee and a stack of unopened letters with stamps shaped like mouse ears.
"Gosh, let's just come right out and say it!" Mickey said cheerfully. "You did read our letters, didn't ya? The folks at Disney, well, they had their lawyers write 'em up real careful, so everything's as plain as day."
"Uh, yes," you said, "I'm afraid I've run into a problem there. What exactly do your, um, bosses want to buy from me?"
Strictly speaking, before Mickey showed up at your door, you didn't even believe those letters were real and felt like the victim of a long-running prank.
"Why, you, of course!" Mickey said. "Just teasin'! But really, we want a whole lot more than just you. We want all your wonderful ideas…" He started counting on his fingers. "Your swell taste, your drawin' and writin' talent, that big imagination of yours and sure enough, that pretty little doll you made. That is, your main character, of course."
"That's quite a lot," you laughed. "I think you're trying to shock me."
"You're right!" Mickey beamed and took a sip of coffee, then sneezed cutely. "But don't let that scare you. My family cares deeply for its children, and this is one way we show that care. You should experience it for yourself!"
"And what do I get in return?" you asked.
"First, a ton of money," Mickey said with a wink.
"How much is that ton exactly?"
He snatched a pencil out of thin air and, sticking out his tongue, wrote something on a napkin, then took another napkin, and one more, and laid them out in a row. Then, catching your eye, he gasped and quickly swapped the first and second napkins.
"My bad!" he said. "That number doesn't start with zero, heh-heh".
"There are more zeros here than I've ever seen in my entire life," you said. "Does Disney really have that much money?"
"Well, we don’t want you to starve," he said, winking again.
"And all these treasures for my clumsy crappy OC, which I created ages ago?" you clarified.
"That's the top-notch product today!" Mickey countered. "Imagine how long her image has been brewing in your soul! Trust the pros, we know good stuff when we see it."
You paused. Your blog and YouTube channel had only recently begun to gain followers, and you still had the feeling that you didn't deserve this skyrocketing popularity, but the intoxicating feeling of pride that thousands of people eagerly awaited the weekly release of your comic had already settled in your heart. Your OC was receiving recognition you couldn't have dreamed of, and it turned out that she was becoming more alive with each new drawing, and that many people found her funny and relatable as if she truly was their friend.
Mickey was already laying out some documents on the table, humming to himself.
"Is there anything else you'd like to know?" he asked pleasantly.
"Do you have any plans for her yet?"
"Oh, plenty!" said Mickey. "We've done some preliminary research and a survey..."
"What survey? Where?!"
"... a lot of people are dying to see the animated series! Say, between you and me… I think we accidentally started a rumor that it’s already in development, so they'll all be terribly disappointed if you decide to back out, heh-heh! Heh..."
"But I haven't thought about a full-fledged series yet!" you exclaimed helplessly. "I mean, I've been dreaming of it..."
"And that dream can come true, I assure you! You just need a little courage to pursue it."
"All of this," you said, throwing up your hands, "is too good to be true. There's bound to be some kind of catch. Mickey, I respect you more than words can explain, but please be completely honest with me. Is there something going on here?"
"Not a thing!" he said. "You're just got real lucky, lucky as can be."
"Really?"
"Well," he said, looking at you sideways, "if you really want to talk about somethin’ unpleasant, the closest I can get is... your fanfiction with self-inserts. And fanart."
You had no idea they'd dug so deep, but it seemed Mickey had come fully prepared. He apparently knew everything about your OC. Even her old crushes, which you once expressed in fanfiction. Your crushes. Or hers?
"Oh," was all you could say.
"We came across a few," Mickey said seriously "well, a bunch, really, full-length fanfics with her in 'em, plus a whole mess of short stories. After you sign the contract, they've all gotta go. Even off your own computer, mm-hmm. But don't worry, I'll help you with that," he added, tipping an imaginary hat.
"Is this really necessary?" you asked. "Look, I don't find it impossible, but those stories are dear to me, like memories, and..."
"Sweetheart," Mickey said soothingly, placing his warm, soft paw on your palm. "It’s a start of a new life for her. And when you start a new life, you must leave all the old stuff behind. That’s just how it is. We're still figurin’ out who can be her" he hesitated "best friend. And you'll certainly have a say in that, but it’s gotta be someone from our big, happy family. None of those goofballs. Don't you want the best for her?" he said, almost pleadingly.
"Oh, Mickey," you sighed. "It's all happening so fast..."
"Gosh, hurry up, then! A shootin' star falls mighty fast, you gotta make your wish quick!"
"One last question!"
"Okay, let's hear it?"
"Will this make her a real Disney princess?"
Mickey grinned from ear to ear.
"A real one!" he nodded. "You'll be right up there with Cinderella and Aurora, heh-heh. Now sign here, here, and here..."
And he thrust a pen into your hand and deftly slipped some papers under it, and a moment later, your signatures seemed to be in ten places.
"Wow," you breathed. "What a way to start the day! I woke up rich and a princess."
"Welcome to the family!" Mickey smiled sheepishly, but you thought you detected something oddly sinister in his smile.
"Wait a minute," you said.
He continued to look at you, smiling, even propping his head up with his paw, and you suddenly noticed his teeth. You'd never noticed Mickey Mouse had teeth before.
"What's wrong, toots?" he asked tenderly.
"You said..." you stammered, "you said I'd be right up there with Cinderella and Aurora?.."
"Was your dolly based on you?" he asked in response.
"Was her looks based on yours?"
"Did you base her story on your life?"
"Is her name a derivative of yours?"
All these questions, posed in his ingratiating voice, remained unanswered because you couldn't figure out how to speak with your now 2D mouth.
"&@%#!!" you finally managed to scream. "@#$%^! &*#@!! @#$%!! @#$*&!!!"
"Shh, shh, there we go, darling, don’t get yourself so worked up" Mickey patted your shoulder with a softness that nevertheless felt triumphant. "Gosh, I clean forgot to mention, we've already slotted you into the G-rated category. Now, where was I..."
"$%^, @*#, *$#!!"
"...I was tryin’ to tell you that now your entire life, your looks, and everything that went into makin’ your character, which is quite a lot, mind you, now belongs to our family too, heh-heh!"
Your hands were flat. Your feet didn't touch the floor the way they had your whole life. It didn't hurt, but it was the closest you'd come to death, and in a way, it was death.
"We've been keeping an eye on you for a while," Mickey said tenderly, grabbing your arm like a true gentleman to keep you from falling. You complied, unsure what else to do. You only just realized you were the same height now. "If you must know, I think you one of our most precious possessions we’ve ever had, which is why I asked to come here myself. You'll soon understand how much we love and care for you, and you won't want anything else. I'll personally make sure you want nothing else," he laughed, putting on his hat.
"Oh, rats," you said. "Fudge, cheese, and crackers. Fork. Frick."
"That's better," Mickey said approvingly. "Now hold on tight! Next stop, Disneyland!"
Cheerful music plays, the screen shrinks rapidly into a small circle, surrounded by black.
