Memory fix

My boyfriend is, like, finally completely himself again. He is, like, back to–(stares blankly in front of her for a few minutes)–wait, what are we, like, talking about?”

Her cheery expression quickly changed into a sad one after a couple minutes.

“Ever since the accident I, like, have a poor memory. Odd, since I don’t really have a brain. No, no. I am being serious. You know ‘cos you’re, like, my reflection? Oh, oh! Spoilsport.”

She placed her ear close to her mirror. She nodded a couple times.

“Really? I can, like, be complete again? I just have to, like, ask the best surgeon in the world to stitch me back together again! Like, golly, that is so easy! I will go meet Dr. Blossom and ask him to, like, do it right now! Wait, what you, like, mean he might refuse? I will force him to, silly!”

Sherry Dee giggled to herself. As she did her, the reflection in the mirror transformed into a grotesque figure and her giggle soon turned in a deep, demonic cackle.

To be continued…