Picture, if you will, a claymation-like short.
A woman pulls a sexy, sequined red dress from her closet, holds it against her body and twirls in front of the mirror. Satisfied, she hangs the dress on the door and heads into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The camera pans to a fancy party invite.
A disgruntled fork, tines slightly twisted, wedges itself into the small crack of the almost closed utensil drawer, breaking free and jumping to the floor. Using it’s two outer tines, it whistles and marches across the kitchen tile onto the hallway’s hardwood floor where he meets a trio of co-conspirators: A reluctant pair of scissors with social anxieties, a spool of thread with the excitement of a baby sibling that never gets invited to play, and a needle with a bad attitude but sharp wit. Without a word said they march forward in unison, a soft whispering of ‘Come to me, darlings’ floating above their heads.
Sequins shimmer and fabric ripples as a female voice filled with contempt speaks.
“What will it be tonight, my darlings? Do we ruin her evening with a broken zipper? How about raising the hem a ½ an inch, so the satin sheath beneath shows? Oh, we could snip a few strategic threads so the sequins unravel and fall loose to the floor with every step she takes. She’ll leave a trail as she runs into the night, humiliated.”
The fork shakes his head, an evil grin spreading across his face.
“All wonderful ideas, my lady, but they are not enough. These can be cast aside as merely bad luck events and no more, and do not inflict the kind of damage we seek. No. To truly achieve our goal we must cut her deep, on a level she can simply not overcome. We must attack her self-confidence, crumble it into rubble, until the dust is no more than a mild irritant she breathes.”
A haughty giggle accompanies the shimming dress, flashes of reflected brilliance blind the camera.
“I like what you are thinking, but how do you propose we accomplish this fantastic feat? We have only a short amount of time before she returns, and surely destroying her self-confidence will take years to accomplish.”
“Not at all. We have aught more to do than remove one inch from the waist.”
Needle snickers and a satisfied female voice purrs.
“Brilliant, begin at once.”
“As you wish.”
Fork bows and motions to his companions. Scissors slumps with a heavy sigh, spool bounces in anticipation, and needle shares a knowing glance with fork before the three march forward off camera.