War Games

[Personalias]

War.

War never changes.

On October 23, 2077 the United States and China began and ended the Great War. In the span of two hours, all of human history had cultivated in the sky lighting on fire and the world being turned to cinders.  But humanity did not die and join the ashes.

Hundreds of Millions perished instantly. Billions died the slow agonizing death of radiation poisoning and starvation from nuclear winter.  Thousands lingered on as something else entirely.  But thousands more escaped the onset of holocaust by heading deep underground, into isolated and shielded facilities known as “vaults”.

What these denizens did not know, could not even conceive of, was that they were merely guinea pigs for a series of unorthodox and highly unethical experiments.  Vault-Tec, the company that had anticipated (perhaps even provoked) the Great War created these safe havens to preserve humanity, that is true, but they only endeavored to save what they considered the “best” or the “most necessary” sections of humanity. 

 Everyone else was just fodder.

A relative handful of vaults operated as advertised.  They provided safety and shelter to those who dwelled inside, re-opened once the radiation had dropped to acceptable levels, and supplied humanity with the tools necessary to rebuild civilization. Every other vault was a grand social experiment meant to operate without concern for the physical and mental well being of its inhabitants.

Vault 27 packed in double the intended occupants to see how a random selection of people would deal with dwindling and insufficient resources.

Vault 95 consisted entirely of chem addicts and alcoholics who were forced to get clean…just to see what happened five years later when a massive cache was introduced.

Vault 11 forced its occupants to sacrifice one of their own each year under threat that they would all die if they did not comply.

And then there was Vault 159…

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Rebecca woke up early that morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed as Coddlesworth often said. Though she didn’t really understand that expression- her eyes didn’t glow and she didn’t have a tail to wag-but she liked the sound of it.  

She liked it so much that she decided to play with it in her mouth a little bit while waiting for Coddlesworth to get her up for the day.  “Bright eyed,” she said. “Briiiiiiiigh-tuuuuuugh! Eeeeeeyeeeee-duh!  Bushy. Buuuuusssssshhhh.  Sh-sh-sh-sh! Tail-uh-duh! Tay-tay-tay-tay-tay-tay!”

She stopped to make a few spit bubbles and kept on babbling, all while batting at the Nuka-Cola mobile dangling from the head of her crib. Rebecca could have clobbered the dangling soda bottles and rocket ships if she just sat up slightly, but that wasn’t as much fun. It was more amusing to graze them with the very tips of her fingers and make them make the music sound off.

What if there was a place with all the zip of Nuka-Cola?
Wouldn’t that be the cheer-cheer-cheeriest place in all the world?
Where the rivers flow with Quantum and the mountaintops are fizz?
With fun and games and rides for all the moms and pops and kids?

Played slowly, it was a soothing lullaby to drift off to sleep to after a rousing day of play. Played fast, it was Rebecca’s ideal wake up call to start said day of play.  That’s why it was her favorite song. When she was smaller, she’d cried and screamed until Coddlesworth and all the other Mr. Handies and Miss Nannies taught her every single word.

What was a ‘mom’, anyway?  She assumed that it was another word for soda, like ‘pop’, but she wasn’t sure. 

“A vacation that refreshes,” she sang quietly to herself.  “A trip you won’t forget. A park with every minimum acceptable safety standard met.”  She didn’t know what most of the words meant, but that didn’t stop her from saying it. ‘Vacation’ was particularly fun to say. 

She didn’t know what a ‘bongo-bongo-bongo’ was or a ‘congo’, but liked singing that song, too. Especially the part at the end.  “Civilization! I’ll stay right heeeeeeeere!”  That was also her favorite song.

The door to Rebecca’s nursery whooshed open and Coddlesworth hovered inside. Three hundred years prior, the floating mechanical octopus would have been something terrible to behold; an abomination of science spitting in the face of nature.  Approximately, two-hundred years ago, it was an exciting cutting edge piece technology that created so many opportunities and convenience.  But Rebecca had known Coddlesworth and his manufactured ilk all of her life, and thus the robots that cared for her and her playmates were natural and normal.  Rebecca didn’t even think of Coddlesworth as a ‘robot’.  To her, he and every other person who took care of her was a Grown-Up.

“Good morning, Miss Rebecca,” Coddlesworth said through his speakers. “Had a restful night’s sleep, I trust?”  The Grown-Up wasted no time in going over to Rebecca’s dresser and fetching powder, washcloths, a onesie, and a fresh diaper.  All part of the morning routine.

“Yuh-huh,” Rebecca nodded and smiled up at the floating ball of chrome. Coddlesworth always made sure to keep at least one retractable eye on her when he was changing her.

“Excellent!” Coddlesworth replied.  “Then let’s get you changed, shall we?”

Rebecca laid still as Coddlesworth lowered the side of her crib and unbuttoned her blue Vault-Tec footie pajamas all the way down starting at the shoulder and slipped them off her legs.  The second the first fiber of fabric hit the hamper metallic tendrils and pincers gently attacked the safety pins holding her diaper together.

“Oh dear!,” Coddlesworth tutted. “It looks like someone was dreaming of going for a swim!”  This was Coddlesworth’s way of emphasizing just how close to leaking Rebecca had been.

Rebecca playfully popped her thumb in her mouth and giggled in reply.  She sucked and giggled on her digit while her metallic caregiver cleaned her sensitive and delicate areas with a specially warmed washcloth

“Thumb out of your mouth, Miss Rebecca,” Coddlesworth said. “That’s what your binky is for, dear.”.  

“Coddlesworth?” Rebecca asked while her ankles were crossed and her legs were raised for her so that the soaked diaper could be removed.  “Am I an educated savage?”

“What?” Coddlesworth replied. “Where did you…?” There was a sense of pause in the Mr. Handy’s voice but his mechanical arms had no hesitancy in disposing of the soggy bit diaper and slipping a nice thick clean one beneath the girl.  “Oh, that song,” he said. “I really do disagree with the decision to let that so-called radio station be broadcast in the main playroom, but the Overseer saw no reason to object to the entertainment. I prefer a good old fashioned nursery rhyme, don’t you?”

Rebecca had kept nibbling on her thumb while her caregiver dusted clean smelling powder on her caramel colored skin.  “You didn’t answer my question.” 

“And you’re still chewing on your thumb, silly girl.”

Rebecca pulled her thumb out of her mouth and whined  “Coddleswoooooorth!”

“Fine, fine,” Coddlesworth said.  “No need to get so fussy.” With precision that could best be described as machine driven, Coddlesworth pulled the fresh diaper up between the girl’s legs and started to gently fasten it on with safety pins.  “No, Miss Rebecca, you are not an educated savage. Quite the opposite, frankly.”

“What am I?” This question Rebecca already knew the answer to, but she loved hearing it.

With the dry diaper fastened on, the machine was free to pull Rebecca’s prone form up into a sitting position.  “I think the answer should be quite obvious, Miss Rebecca,” Coddlesworth replied. He waited until he pulled the clean Vault-Tech onesie over Rebecca’s head and unbunched the sleek yet breathable waterproof fabric down over her breasts  “You are a precious, adorable, baby girl!”
“Yaaaaaay!”  Rebecca clapped her hands in celebration.

“Not just any baby girl either,” Coddlesworth announced. “You’re a birthday girl as well!  Congratulations!”  A bit of confetti shot up into the air and.

Rebecca clapped her hand to her cheeks in delighted surprise. “I am?” She started bouncing on her fluffy bottomed seat.  “How old am I? How old am I?”

Coddlesworth gathered up Rebecca’s long black hair and started bunching it up together into two bushy pigtails tied in yellow ribbon. “Assuming my internal chronometer is still functioning, and I’m sure that it is, you are twenty-one years old today!”

The baby girl grinned with pride. “That’s the oldest I’ve been so far!”

“Quite right,” Coddlesworth agreed.  “It seems like just yesterday I was playing peekaboo to make you laugh and giving you a nice warm ba-ba before naptime to help you drift off to sleep.

“Coddlesworth!” Rebecca laughed. “That was yesterday!”

“Oh,” Coddleswroth remarked. “So it was!”  Specially designed reinforced metal tendrils cradled the girl and lifted her out of her crib. “Let’s get you some breakfast, birthday girl, then we’ll start our day of play!”

************************************************************************************************

Samantha woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  She didn’t know what that meant, because she’d never seen one, but she knew it had something to do with sleep since the Grown-Ups used ‘bed’ and ‘sleep’ interchangeably.  Still, it begged the question: How could somebody sleep wrong?

The light brown, almost red haired, little girl wasn’t sure, but she felt she’d accomplished the feat of operator error.  She’d tossed and turned in her crib all night and no amount of repositioning or rolling over helped her doze off.

Some silly stubborn part of her didn’t want to call out for help and cry. It’s not like she’d been sick or had a bad dream. Her toys hadn’t been moving and there weren’t radroaches under her crib.  She just couldn’t get comfy.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Poppy cooed down at her. “Did you have a practically perfect visit to slumberland Miss Samantha?”

Samantha grumbled something incoherent as Poppy’s warm washcloth bathed her backside. She rubbed her eyes and the first thing that came into focus was her own crossed ankles hoisted high towards the ceiling.  
“I think someone must have really enjoyed getting their forty winks to sleep so long.”  Samantha grumbled a bit more, while the old diaper was swapped out for the new one.  “It’s been ages since you’ve slept through your morning change!”

Samantha wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but she was literally not in a position to do so.  “Poppeeeeeee,” she whined.  “Staaaaaaahp!”

One prehensile camera-eye lowered itself and stared directly at her bare bottom.  “Oh dear, is that the beginnings of a rash I detect?  Someone must have made those stinkies late last night in their sleep.”

Samantha assumed the Miss Nanny was talking about her.  Maybe that’s why she had been having such trouble sleeping, she supposed.  She knew there was something uncomfortable keeping her up, but an itchy bottom hadn’t occurred to the girl. There had been a time when she was two or three…maybe four…when Samantha could tell she was making stinkies in her diaper, but that was a distant memory.  

At the time, she thought she heard the Grown-Ups say something about ‘Poppy Training’ but that didn’t sound right to her.  Anyways, that was a long time ago, and like a good baby Samantha’s brain had long forgotten any correlation to how her body felt and how her diaper felt a few minutes later.

Samantha winced out of her memory while the egg colored Grown-Up smeared thick white cream up and down her backside.  Her nose wrinkled at the gross chemical smell.  She hated the smell of diaper rash cream.  The smell of a stinky diaper was almost preferable in that at least it was natural.  “Poppy?” she asked, “Can you remember to use extra baby powder?”  Anything to cover up that unnatural chemical scent.

Dutifully, Poppy shook an extra cloud of the sweet smelling stuff all over Samantha’s rashy bottom.  “Hmmm,” she said as she lowered Samantha’s hips down to the thick fresh padding.  “It seems the irritation isn’t just on your bottom.  Were you up late playing naughty games last night, Miss Samantha? Is that why you didn’t cry out?”

Samantha blushed all over.  Come to think of it, she had been playing the naughty games that the Grown-Ups didn’t want her playing, rubbing between her legs all the way through the layers and layers of jammies and thick diapers. 

 “Maybe…” she admitted. “I was just trying to get to sleep.”  That part was true.  Samantha always felt good and sleepy after she got to play her naughty games with Mr. Buzzy every two weeks. But it was too late for Mr. Buzzy, so she did it herself and pretended her hands were Mr. Buzzy.

“Oh never mind, dear,” Poppy said.  From the sound of her voice, and the way her octopus eyes blinked and waggled back and forth, she would have been shaking her head if she were a kid.  But Samantha also knew her caregiver would be smiling, too.  “Little girls will be little girls.”
She finished diapering Samantha, nice and thick so that she probably wouldn’t need a change until at least naptime, and dressed her in her regulation Vault 159 onesie, same as everyday else.

“Oh, and I know I’m practically perfect in every way,” Poppy said, putting the finishing touches on Samantha’s hair with a loose and comfortable ponytail.  “But lest I forget. Happy birthday, darling!”

Samantha woke up, instantly, chasing all the sleepiness and grumpiness away. “It’s my birthday?!”  She sat up a little straighter.

“Yes darling, you’re a whole year older and none the wiser!”

The way she said it made Samantha feel good all over and bubble up.  “How old am I?”

“It’s been twenty-one years since Mr. Stork delivered you and your little friends to Vault 159!”

“Oh my gosh!” Samantha clapped.  She was going to have to play extra hard today!

Mr. Stork tended to deliver babies in bunches of bundles all at once to Vault 159, so at any given point five to ten different babies all had the same birthday. What none of the babies understood was that this was fairly unusual outside of the vault.  What none had any reason to suspect was that Mr. Stork and Mr. Buzzy were very good friends and had an intimate working relationship.

************************************************************************************************************

“HAAAAAAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOOO YOU!” The Grown-Ups finished warbling the birthday song as the last empty breakfast bowl was taken away. All the other kids who didn’t have the pointy birthday hats on clapped and cheered for the ones who did.

Rebecca leaned back in her highchair and let out a hearty belch, her matching dark blue bib catching some oatmeal and prune laced spittle. Samantha fiddled with the elastic string under her chin.  

Other Grown-Ups started releasing kids from their highchairs and shooing them off to play rooms. Those kids, both older and younger than today’s birthday batch, crawled and toddled as their full tummies and (for now) empty diapers allowed them.  For Rebecca, Samantha, and their agemates, there were a few more steps to attend to.

“Because we want your special day to be extra special,” Coddlesworth said, “we decided to give you your presents early!”

“Yes,” Poppy said, her various arms filled with gift wrapped boxes. “Let you have the entire day to enjoy them instead of waiting till after dinner and cake.”

“CAKE?!” a cry rose up from over half-a-dozen highchairs. Despite having gone through this ritual over twenty times now, and witnessed it even more, the fact that they got cake AND presents excited the boys and girls just as much as if it were the first.  

Coddlesworth grabbed a few more boxes. “Oh, I told you not to mention the see-ay-kay-ee.”

Neither Rebecca nor Samantha knew what see-ay-kay-ee was, but they would have leapt over their feeding trays if it meant they could get cake.

“Oh hush now” Poppy replied.  “Everything that can be done should have at least a little bit of fun.  You’re being neurotic, dear.”

“Well I never! The Overseer will be hearing about thi-”

“Not in front of the bee-ay-bee-eye-eez,” Poppy quickly interjected.  The babies were already starting to wiggle in their seats.  Despite having very full tummies, they were eyeing the gift wrapped boxes like hungry puppies after a bone. Samantha and Rebecca, in particular, were fighting to keep their smiles up.  They hated it when the grown-ups argued. Even if Coddlesworth didn’t like new things and Poppy tended to talk down to everyone.

“Quite right.”  Coddlesworth sighed. “We have more important things to do than to peck at each other like a couple of old hens.” A beat. “LIKE PASS OUT BIRTHDAY PRESENTS!”

Another cheer went up and the Grown-Ups started handing out presents. One by one, the gift boxes were passed out to each of the twenty-one year old babies, each one carefully wrapped and done up with a bow.  It was hard for Samantha because she was the last in the row to get a gift.  It was even harder for Rebecca because she was first.  

“Remember, dears,” Poppy reminded, “Good little boys and girls wait to open up their gifts until everyone has one.”

When finally everyone had a present laying on her tray, Coddlesworth gave the signal.“Three…Two…One,...GO!”

Had the falling scene consisted of anything other than wrapping paper and cardboard, it wouldn’t have been appropriate for children of any age.

“A dolly!” Rebecca cooed as she pulled the most adorable dolly out of her box. It was the cutest little ragdoll with a blue onesie on it just like hers, and a big puffy diaper pinned on just like hers, and it had beautiful blue.  Rebecca fell in love instantly and hugged it so hard that if its tummy were as full of oatmeal and prunes as hers, the dolly would have needed a change right away.

“A box?” Samantha said with a frown.  Who put a box inside of another box and called it a present?  “Coddlesworth!  Poppy!”  Samantha started to whine.  “I think my present is…”  The lid of the polished oaken box popped up and Samantha’s face froze.

A little blonde boy rose from out of the box, wearing a suit similar to Samantha’s onesie, except it covered his arms and legs too. He sat in front of a black piano, playing it while the pedestal he was on slowly spun in a circle.  Both the Vault Boy and the piano were so tiny that its jaunty little tune came out in tiny tinkling chimes.

“Ooooooooo!” Samantha gasped, mesmerized.  She didn’t know the words to the song, but loved it all the same.

In olden days, a glimpse of stocking
Was looked on as something shocking
But now, God knows…
Anything goes.

Rebecca knew the words.  It was her favorite song.  She stared longingly and sang along with the little Vault Boy on his piano. “Good authors too who once knew better words, now only use four-letter words writing prose…anything goes.”  Truly, it was her favorite song!

Samantha turned her head towards the sound of the singing and gasped. That dolly that Rebecca was squeezing! It had blue button eyes just like Samantha and its yarn hair almost perfectly matched Samantha’s reddish brownish mop! It even had the same dark blue onesie and poofy diaper underneath! It was her but in dolly form, and Samantha fell instantly in love.  

Neither tot realized their arms were reaching out for the other’s present and that only distance was stopping them from getting what they wanted more than anything in the world.

“Alright kiddos!” Coddlesworth announced. “Now that we’ve got all of that present business out of the way, let’s shuffle off to a playroom and party down as they say! Safely and responsibly of course!” he added.

Even after the trays from their highchairs were taken away and they were placed down on the kitchen floor,  Rebecca and Samantha were too busy staring greedily at one another’s gifts to notice that the group was toddling slowly but surely away from them.

“Come along my little ducklings,” Poppy coaxed them back into the present despite their presents presence.  “You can play with your birthday gifts as much as you like after we get you all tucked away and out from underfoot.”  She gestured with a tendril to the other, less personable Grown-Ups who were already beginning to clean up after the babies; washing dishes, mopping floors, and whatnot.

The girls eyed one another’s toys, adjusted their party hats, then each other, and nodded silently.  The only thing moving faster than their bare legs were their minds.

Rebecca wanted Samantha’s music box.

Samantha wanted Rebecca’s dolly.

And being twenty-one year old toddlers, neither one even considered trading.

War.

War never changes…

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“Alright kiddos,” Coddlesworth announced.  “Who’s up for a good old-fashioned game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey?”

Hands shot in the air immediately and a chittering of “Me-me-me-me-me-me-me!” filled the nursery style play room.  

“Excellent!” Coddlesworth said. “That’s the spirit lads and lasses!  Now which good little birthday boy or girl should I pick first?” 

Immediately hands went down and every baby sat up as straight as they could, looking positively angelic.  

“Oh this is going to be very difficult,” Poppy noted, scanning all of the toddlers suddenly on their best possible behavior.  “But I think…Rebecca is being particularly good.”

Rebecca beamed and cheered for her own good fortune.  Immediately, all pretense was abandoned and every other baby hung their heads in disappointment and let out an “Awwwww!’

The sound of a certain best song in the entire universe caused Rebecca’s ears to wiggle.  No longer worrying about going first, Samantha had decided to occupy herself by re-opening the delightful music box.  

Rebecca’s face started to heat up in jealousy and she squeezed her dolly with all her might.  Suddenly, she had an idea.  “Actually, Poppy,” she said in her best good-girl voice. “Can I give up my turn and give it to Samantha as a present?”

Samantha’s mouth opened in honest to goodness surprise.  “Really?” she asked.

“Really really!” Rebecca promised, crossing her fingers behind her back.

Samantha was overjoyed at getting to go first.  That is, until she saw Rebecca’s new dolly.  That was the present she actually wanted from Rebecca. She’d take what she could get, however, and climbed to her feet.  “How do I play?”

“It’s very simple, Miss Samantha,” Coddlesworth said, wasting no time in fastening the blindfold over the girl’s eyes.  “First we blind fold you like so.  Then we spin you around like so until you’re good and dizzy!”  

Samantha turned and turned with the shiny metal Grown-Up’s guidance again and again until she was so wobbly she might as well have been one of those funny inflatable clowns that she bopped around. “Whoah-whoah-whoah!”  All the other boys and girls giggled. “I did it!”

“Not quite, luv,” Poppy corrected.  Samantha found something long and pointy with a floppy end placed carefully into the palm of her hand.  “Now you have to pin the tail on the donkey.”

Due to her outfit and general lack of coordination, Samantha was already fairly wobbly.  Add in the spinning and blindness, and Samantha might as well be just learning to walk all over again.

“Go Sam-Sam!” Rebecca cheered. “You can do it!”

“Oh that’s right,” Coddlesworth remembered. “Do cheer her on and give her hints!”

“Go Sammy!”  

“Left! Left!”

“No!  Your other left! Haha!”

“Up! Up! WHOAH! Dooooown!”

“Haaaaa! You’re going the wrong way, now! Spin around again!”

All of this happy noise was perfect cover for Rebecca’s true goal. With the shouting and laughter filling up everyone’s ears, no one could hear the joyful tune of Samantha's music box.

When the Missus Ned McLean, God bless her
Can get Russian reds to yes her
Then I suppose… 
Anything goes.

Which, of course, meant that no one heard it when Rebecca closed the wooden box, dragged it to herself, and used it as a chair for her dolly.  She might have felt bad about the trick, but it was like the song said. Anything goes.

“Ooops!” Coddlesworth said. “Terribly sorry, Miss Samantha, but the tail most certainly doesn’t go there!”  Samantha lifted up her blindfold and laughed so hard she didn’t notice her diaper getting wetter.  How silly!  If donkeys had their tails there they wouldn’t need to blink!  “Go sit down, dear. Now who else is being a good little birthday boy and girl so that they can try pinning one on!”

Zigging and zagging from dizziness, a very giggly girl fell to her knees and crawled the rest of the way back to her spot on the carpet.  She wondered if the little Vault Boy on his tiny piano got dizzy from all the spinning.  It probably wasn’t fast enough, she knew, but she thought she could get a good idea if she stared at him a little…

Where was her music box?!  Samantahs lifted her rump and looked underneath her. Then she spread her legs extra wide and looked between them to make sure she hadn’t misplaced it.  Her present had been right in front of her before she stood up and then…and then…and then Rebecca…

Rebecca!

Samantha leaned over and stared at Rebecca, clapping as the next kid got blindfolded and cheering him on.  The other girl’s dolly was sitting on a wooden box. Samantha’s wooden box!

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Samantha cried and pointed at the thief. Crocodile tears flowed freely and the little dangly ball in the back of her throat jiggled while she banged. No fair! No fair! Samantha was going to do that too! Rebecca had just thought of it, first!

“Oh dear!” Poppy said, hovering up close.  “Samantha, darling, what’s wrong!”

“BECKY TOOK MY…MY…”

“Your what, poppet?”

A moment of terrible inspiration struck Samantha.  “REBECCA TOOK MY DOLLY!” 

“What?!” Rebecca gasped, clutching her present even tighter.  “It’s not your dolly! It’s mine! I got it as a birthday present!”

“Nuh-uh!” Samantha lied. “It’s my dolly! Coddlesworth and Poppy put it in my highchair special! That’s why it looks like me! Her name is Samantha Junior!”

“It! Is! Not!” Rebecca gasped. “Her name is…is…I hadn’t named her yet, but she’s still my dolly!” Rebecca cursed her rotten luck.  She should have hidden her precious dolly first and started crying like Samantha had stolen the music box.  Samantha had just thought of it first…

The floating Grown-Ups turned a camera eye on each other, keeping the other on one of the bickering toddlers at any given time.

“I don’t remember who I gave what to,” Coddlesworth said. “Do you?”

“Goodness no,” Poppy whispered. “Do you know how many birthdays we’ve had in the last two hundred years?  My servos have more important things to keep track of.”

They both turned their attention to the birthday girls sending death glares each other’s way.  “I hate it when they’re going through their terrible twenties.,” Coddlesworth moaned.

“Me too,” Poppy agreed.  “Let’s just give Samantha the doll and go from there.”

“But it’s not hers!”  Rebecca objected.

“Now, now.” Poppy said. “I won’t have any tantrums on your birthday. Not unless you need a turn on the naughty stool.”  The naughty stool wasn’t nearly as fun as the naughty game. Reluctantly, Rebecca gave up her brand new dolly and watched in silent agony when it was given over to Samantha.

“Oh Samantha Junior!” Samantha gushed, giving it a cuddle like it was really her dolly. “I missed you so much! Don’t you ever leave me again!”

Both girls had gotten the gift they had really wanted.  Both of them had done so using misdirection and deceit.  That should have settled the matter and they considered it even.

But as far as the big babies were concerned, this was war.

And war?

War never changes.

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“Ninety-Nine! One hundred!” The boy with his hands covering his face shouted. “Ready or not, here I come!”

“Master Brian,” Coddlesworth said. “You’re supposed to count to one-hundred and one-two-skip-a-few doesn’t quite pass muster if you know what I mean.”

The boy shook his head and giggled. “Nuh-uh.”

“Oh very well,” Coddlesworth said.  “We’ll settle for a slow twenty. Now repeat after me.”

Pin the tail on the donkey had ended, and a rousing game of Duck-Duck-Goose had followed. Unfortunately, both girls had had the same idea and ran with their ill-gotten presents when it was their turn to dash around the circle.  

Hide and seek, however, presented new opportunities and both girls, normally the best of playmates, scoured the nursery for not one, but two hiding places. One for them and one for the birthday present that they hadn’t gotten.

By the time Brandon reached ten, Rebecca had found the perfect spot for her new music box. Likewise Samantha had found the perfect hiding place for Samantha Junior.

“Nineteen,” Coddlesworth said. “Twenty!  Alright, now. Off you go!”

Thus, while Brian was searching in toy boxes and looking under blankets, Rebecca and Samantha slinked around, searching for each other’s stash.

“If I were Rebecca,” Samantha whispered to herself, slinking along the wall, being extra still so that Brian didn’t notice her, “Where would I put my music box.”  She frowned. “I mean my music box, not my music box…” her nose wrinkled. She knew what she meant, that was the most important part.  She bumped her head against a bookshelf, with an audible “oof!” and then had to hold her breath when Brian whipped his head around.

The search might have continued, but bumping the bookshelf had knocked something slightly loose; or rather, open.

When Rockefeller still can hoard enough money
To let Max Gordon produce his shows…
Anything goes

“Huh?” Samantha said, peeking around and taking a much closer look at the books on the shelf. Turned on its side and crammed between a copy of ‘You’re S.P.E.C.I.A.L’. and ‘Grognak The Baby Barbarian’ was Samantha’s music box, jostled slightly ajar so that the little Vault Boy inside was playing his piano again.  “Got it!” she whispered.  

At last, her real birthday present was in her grasp.  Now all she had to do was sneak back to where she’d left her dolly and hide it there! Everything was going according to plan.

Meanwhile, Rebecca was shimmying on the carpet, looking high and low (mostly low) for where Samantha might  have hid her dolly.  Not her dolly, she reminded herself, but her dolly.  “Where is Samantha anyways?” Rebecca asked herself.  

She covered her face so that Brian would think she was invisible while he passed by, then started carefully scouting the room. Brian was stomping around the room yelling “I found you!” at everything he saw.  Amanda was hiding in the toybox.  Rachel was disguising herself with a lamp shade.  Johnny was being a Stealth Boy with his hands over his face. Samantha was very very small and laying on top of the changing table.

“Wait a minute,” Rebecca said to herself.  “If that’s Samantha  getting a diaper change, why isn’t a Grown-Up helping her?” The realization hit her like a megaton bomb!  “That’s not Samantha!” 

She ran over to the changing table with full speed and snatched the dolly up, giving it a hug.  “I’m never losing you again,” she promised.  At last, her real birthday present was in her grasp.  Now all she had to do was sneak back to where she’d left her music box and hide it there! 

She might have felt bad for Samantha , but just like her favorite song said: “Into each life some rain must fall.”.  

“Hey!” A voice called out.  “Drop my dolly!”

Rebecca spun on her heel.  “Your dolly! It’s my…!”  Rebecca’s guts started to rumble.  Her morning oatmeal was catching up to her. “My…my…my…” Rebecca stopped talking, bent her knees, started grunted, and stared out into the middle distance, barely aware of her surroundings while the back of her diaper expanded and her onesie struggled to contain the oncoming mudslide.

“Your what?” Samantha started to ask.  Suddenly it dawned on her.  With lightning fast hands she snatched the Samantha Junior out of Rebecca’s thieving hands!  “Poppy! Coddlesworth!” Samantha crowed. “Rebecca’s making a stinky and needs a change!”  Samantha might not have realized when she was straining and adding her own bits of fallout into her pants, but the clever girl easily recognized it when another baby was doing it right in front of her!

Music box and dolly acquired, Samantha hurriedly ran away, snickering back over her shoulder.  

“Oh dear!” Poppy said, patting Rebecca’s mushy backside. “Where do you put it all?”

As if awakening from a trance or coming down from a dose of jet, Rebecca blinked and became aware of her surroundings a tad too late.  “But..but…but…!”

“Yes,” Poppy agreed, leading the girl back over to the changing table she’d just recently visited. “Let’s get yours up on that changing table, young lady. I won’t have you getting a rash.”  Rebecca grimaced, picturing having that yucky ointment Poppy loved smeared all over her bum.  That and the idea of Samantha getting both of her birthday presents filled her with a rage she hadn’t felt since the last time a Grown-Up had told her no.

She slipped the surly bonds of the Grown-Ups metallic appendages and charged straight for her retreating playmate.

So sure of her victory was she, that Samantha forgot that she was supposed to be playing hide and seek.

“Found you!” Brian pointed and yelled, finally correct in his accusation.  “You’re it!”

“Am not!” 

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Rebecca caught up to her and grabbed for the dolly.  “That’s my dolly!” Rebecca said. “Give it back!”

Samantha clutched both toys to her chest.  “No! She’s mine! Get your own birthday dolly!”

“I’ve got a yo-yo”  Brian offered.  “Do you wanna play with my yo-yo?”

“You stay out of this!” The girls said in unison, sending the boy into a fit of tears.”

Rebecca grabbed for the doll, but Samantha, in equal stubbornness held tight; each girl gripping the bit of cloth and fluff with both hands and pulling as hard as they could.

“Mine!”

“Mine!”

“Mine!”

“Girls! Girls!”  Coddlesworth tried to intervene.

“That isn’t very ladylike,” Poppy scolded.  

But neither twenty-one year old toddler was capable of listening at the moment. The music box fell from Samantha’s grasp, the last chorus of Rebecca’s favorite song tinkling for a precious few notes before crashing onto the ground, the little Vault Boy’s head coming clean off and the music going silent.  Now neither would hear that wonderful song again until the next time it played on the playroom radio!

“NOOOOOOOO!” They yelled in unison over the loss of one precious present.  But neither one was willing to give up their claim on the dolly.  If anything, each girl only gripped harder.

And so it was with sickening rip that stitches came loose and cotton puffs that were never meant to see open air spilled out into the light of day.  Both girls fell backwards, tripping over their own heels and landing onto their thoroughly padded backsides.

Rebecca landed and the shock sent her bladder into overdrive, spraying into her thirsty diaper so fast that not even the advanced fabric could soak up the liquid quickly enough, causing her to leak and dribble down her thighs.

 Samantha landed and kept sliding as her momentum sent her on her back with her legs up in the air.  She didn’t know what happened next, only that she felt incredible shock and relief as one-by-one the poppers on her onesie snapped open, the mass her body pushed into her diaper causing it to expand well past the point of no return.

The Great War of 2077 lasted two hours. The Great War of 2287 less than two minutes. One resulted in nuclear annihilation. The other ended with two adult babies being put in time-out for five whole minutes. 

The scope of each conflict couldn’t be more different.  But they were still very similar in some respects.  Both sides wanted everything and lost it all. And by the end of the hour, both girls had forgotten why they were mad and were cuddling with each other during naptime, not even missing or caring that they’d be without a particular toy until their birthday next year. They’d truly learned nothing. But that’s war.

And war?

War never changes.

But diapers do…

(The End?)