Invasion of the Diaper Elves: Thanksgiving (Patreon)

Madison Greene inspected her home, searching for anything out of place. The interior decorators had done a fine job. Her long banquet-style kitchen table was covered in a crisp white tablecloth, contrasting nicely with the fall-foliage theme of the placemats and centerpiece. Pine cones featured heavily into their design, which Madison guessed was a major savings on their part, but still, it looked nice. The carpet had been shampooed the previous morning. Meredith had been tempted to simply have it replaced, but after looking over every inch of it carefully, she could find no stain or smudge that might have excused the expense. Silver trays of traditional Thanksgiving treats such as dried figs and dates had been arranged so artfully that no one would dream of eating any. Every dish in the house was clean and neatly stacked in the cupboards. The plates and silver on the table now were rented for the occasion. The paintings on the walls were tastefully arranged, especially the one that was covering the hole that the movers had made when they brought the table in (she had had a long conversation about that, and a suitable discount had been arranged).

Madison knew she was being paranoid. But as City Treasurer for the town of Sturgis, South Dakota, she had an image to uphold. She had just successfully completed her re-election campaign earlier in the month, and now it was looking like the Mayor's office would be her next destination.

Along a wall near the door were a collection of Thanksgiving-themed children's handicrafts: Images of turkeys for the most part, done in crayon, glitter, felt, and in one case actual feathers. They weren't made by her children, for she had none. A local elementary-school teacher had loaned them to her for the look of the thing. Madison  had to maintain a maternal, family-values image to maintain her chances of reaching high office. That was what this Thanksgiving was all about. One of Madison's numerous political allies was an influential local blogger named Daisy O'Hare. Daisy had agreed to feature Madison's Thanksgiving Day celebration in a puff-piece, ostensibly about the supposed decline in the values of hospitality and gratitude in American culture. The counterpoint of the article would be Madison herself, presiding over a traditional Thanksgiving feast with her family and friends. The 'friends' in question would be wealthy members of the community and high-ranking officials in the city government, all of whom were also eager to be seen in conjunction with family, traditional values, and domestic bliss. The feast was being arranged, essentially, as a photo-op in which Madison's family, good taste, and personal wealth would be on display. In a tasteful way, of course.

That was why Madison was leaving nothing to chance. Everything from the decorations to the actual cooking was being done professionally. She had discreetly hired chef and restaurateur Alphonse de Chastain to cater the event. He and his extensive staff would be setting up in her kitchen tomorrow morning, ready to prepare a feast that Madison could present to her family and friends with pride. She wouldn't actually state that she had cooked it herself, of course. That would be lying. And if a photo of her bringing a picture-perfect roast turkey to the table while wearing a clean autumn-themed apron happened to circulate in the press, that would not a lie either. It would just be a good look.

So, Madison found herself up late, nervously pacing around her home and wondering what tiny detail might ruin her chance to impress her constituents. Most of her actual relatives would have to sit out the occasion, of course. Only her sister Ashley, her niece Joanne, her cousin Wanda, and Wanda's husband Mike had made the cut. She had considered inviting some of her less-well off relatives, particularly those who might bring their children, but that simply added too many variables to her well-balanced equation. With so much riding on the success of the event, and so many of her influential colleagues in attendance, it was critical that high standards be maintained. Only clean, sensible, reliable people could be part of this important occasion.

She had just about managed to calm down enough to consider turning in for the night when she heard a sound coming from the kitchen. She frowned. It sounded like two people whispering and giggling to each other. She heard the sound of a window being closed with a slight click. She couldn't imagine who it might be. Her lights were on and her car was in the driveway, so a burglar seemed unlikely. Perhaps it was some local teenagers pulling a prank of some kind. Feeling somewhat vindicated for her nervousness, she stood up straight, took a deep breath, and walked into the kitchen.

Even as she was about to flip on the lights, she saw them. They were beautiful. Two women, one in her late forties and another in her twenties, were hovering above her island sink. The older one had dark brown hair tied into a bun, and wore a dark green Hawaiian shirt with elaborate gold palm tree designs. The younger one had long, voluminous hair of bright red and wore gold-rimmed glasses and an old-fashioned pilot's jacket with a white fur trim around the wrists and collar. Both of them hovered above the tiled floor as though suspended on invisible strings. Both had ears that came to delicate points. Both wore crisp, white, disposable diapers that shone with an unearthly bluish glow.

Madison could only stare at them a moment. They stared back at her with faint smiles and dreamy eyes.

Madison sighed deeply with relief. “Oh, thank goodness!” she said aloud. “I was worried that it was something serious. Just a stress hallucination. Never had one of those before, but there's a first time for everything.”

The one with the red hair waved. “Hi there! Happy Thanksgiving!”

The one in the Hawaiian shirt curtsied, lifting a non-existent skirt above her knees.

“...Happy Thanksgiving.” chuckled Madison. She turned and headed toward her bedroom.

“Hold on, dear. We're not finished yet.” said the one in the Hawaiian shirt, as though reminding a child of some minor but unpleasant chore.

Madison hummed to herself, trying to block out the voices. She started up the stairs. There was faint breeze behind her, and suddenly the one with the red hair was hovering on the stairs in front of her , blocking the way.

Madison shut her eyes and flapped her hands in front of her to block the weird image out as she walked upstairs. Her hands encountered smooth skin and soft plastic backing. She opened her eyes.

“Hiiii!” said the one with the red hair. Madison realized that she was touching the younger woman's bare navel and disposable diaper.

Madison's face blanched and she jumped backward, forgetting that she was standing on the stairs. She tumbled backward. Gentle hands caught her and lifted her to her feet.

“Whoopsy-daisy!” said the one in the Hawaiian shirt cheerfully.

Madison found her feet and pushed the strange being off of her forcefully. The one in the Hawaiian shirt floated away and sat suspended in the air, smiling warmly at her as she tried to compose herself.

“This is...what is this?” Madison demanded. Now that she had felt the skin of her two visitors, it was impossible to pretend that they were mere figments of her imagination. That left her with no category to file them into, however.

“We're just here for some black licorice.” explained the one with red hair. She crossed her bare legs and adjusted her glasses.

Madison gradually brought her breathing under control. She still half-expected to find herself safe in her bed, or for the unearthly beings around her to simply vanish as easily as they had come. As seconds ticked by, neither of those things happened. Reluctantly, she decided that she would simply have to deal with the situation as it presented itself.

“Black licorice? You broke into my house for candy?” she asked.

“We didn't break anything.” said the one with the red hair, sounding offended.

“We just need it.” said the one in the Hawaiian shirt. “Now please: Do you have any?”

Madison had no earthly clue whether she had any or not. So many people had been through her kitchen today cleaning up and decorating that just about anything might be in there.

“What if I don't have any? What happens then?” she asked.

Her levitating intruders both shifted in the air uncomfortably.

“That would be...unpleasant.” said the one in the Hawaiian shirt. Her smile wavered a little, as though she were contemplating something nasty.

“Weeee'd have to give you a punishment.” said the one with the red hair, rubbing her index fingers together. She sounded apologetic.

“What? What punishment?” demanded Madison.

“Oh, its different every time.” said the one with the red hair.

“Except for that one thing.” pointed out the one in the Hawaiian shirt, as though to remind her younger colleague.

“Oh yeah! Right.” she said with a nod.

Madison was becoming frightened. At first, these two had seemed too ridiculous-looking to take seriously, but the way they spoke left no room for doubt. They were absolutely confident that they could and would do something awful if she couldn't produce some licorice for them. She had no idea what this punishment would entail, but it had to be something fairly nasty, to judge from how they seemed to dislike the subject.

“...fine. You want black licorice? I'll get you some. And then you'll leave me alone?” she asked.

“Oh, we'll do more than that!” said the one in the Hawaiian shirt.

“We'll give you a nice reward!” said the one with the red hair.

Madison was curious what kind of reward they were offering. If these creatures were as powerful as they seemed to think they were, their reward might actually be something she would want. Still, first she had to find some licorice. Returning to the kitchen, she began searching.

As she rifled through the cabinets and opened the refrigerator time and time again, she began to wonder if she were having a nervous breakdown. After working so hard to make sure every detail of tomorrow's celebration had been carefully accounted for, she was being blindsided by something completely and genuinely unheard of. How are you supposed to plan for magical beings who show up late at night demanding treats?

As she searched, she grew more desperate. Her two visitors watched her with sympathetic looks in their eyes. They knew she was in trouble. They knew she was stalling. But they just watched as she tore her immaculate kitchen apart in search of black licorice.

When she had almost given up all hope, inspiration struck her. She remembered the carefully arranged goodies laid out on the kitchen table on silver trays. Sure enough, wedged snugly between the dried apricots and the chocolate orange sticks were a dozen pieces of black licorice. She snatched it desperately and thrust it toward her visitors.

“There! I found it! Is that enough for you? Will you leave now?”

The one with the Hawaiian shirt accepted the candy with a smile. “Wonderful! Thank you so much!”

She turned to her colleague, and the two of them carefully divided their loot among themselves. They began stuffing the little ropes of black confectionery into their mouths with delight both visible and audible. They spun around gracefully through the air and moaned appreciation as they feasted. Madison watched them with hands on hips. There was something vaguely lewd about their clear, unconcealed enjoyment of the candy.

Finally, the licorice was gone, and the sighs of joy and contentment settled down. Madison stood with growing contempt in her eyes, waiting for the two bizarre creatures to leave.

“That was...amazing.” said the one with the red hair. She wiped her glasses on her sleeve.

“Every time.” agreed the one with the Hawaiian shirt. A glisten of sweat was visible in her forehead.

“Great. Are you going now?” demanded Madison.

“Of course. You have a big day tomorrow don't you?” asked the one with the Hawaiian shirt.

“Yes. I do.” said Madison through her teeth. Her patience was clearly wearing thin.

“We can help with that!” announced the one with the red hair. “Let's see...”

The strange bluish glow that emanated from the two floating women intensified. For a moment, Madison was blinded by the intense light from their two diapers. The whole house seemed to soften and melt like warm butter. The table in the dining room and the clean countertops in the kitchen became clouds of white nothingness. Slowly, the light faded and the shapes resolved themselves.

Madison stared. The table and the countertops were covered with food. Dozens of pies of every kind coated the counters, freshly-baked if the smell was any indication. Next to the stove were two turkeys, three geese, and a plucked bird that Madison could not identify, all stuffed, seasoned, marinated, and ready to go in the oven. Several large wooden bowls and one wicker cornucopia contained fruits, nuts, mushrooms, and various vegetables from all over the world. Casks of beer, wine, and cider sat neatly beside the table, already tapped. Wheels of cheese, pots of honey, and a selection of fine chocolates completed the supplies. There was now enough food in the house to feed a small army.

The two hovering beings looked fondly down at their handiwork with the same relaxed smiles. Madison looked up at them, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Are you finished? Is that all?” she asked.

“Yep! Good night!” said the one with the red hair cheerily.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” called the one with the Hawaiian shirt as she drifted out the window and into the moonlit night.

Madison fumed and muttered under her breath as she looked around her home. Just when she had been checking to make sure everything was perfect for her guests, these freaks appear from nowhere and fill the house with random nonsense. She considered briefly whether to a actually use any of the food they had materialized.

She discarded the idea. Who knew what gifts from such creatures might do to whoever was foolish enough to eat them? The catering staff would already be bringing all the food that anyone could want, and they would need all this space to be clear. Besides, what business did those two have just showing up in her home, demanding candy, and then showering her with food as though she were some charity case? She knew what she had to do. Sighing heavily and grabbing a small hand-truck from the garage, she got to work.

Far above her, only visible if one happened to be looking at just the right spot, two elfin women watched as Madison came in and out of her front door. She brought out the pies in one uneven column, and dropped them into the trash without ceremony. Next came the turkeys, the geese, and the stuffed pheasant. The casks of beer, wine, and cider she emptied into the gutter before stacking the empty barrels next to the bin. Load after load piled onto the trash, until the lid could not even sit on top. The pair watched as every gift they had bestowed was discarded.

“I can't believe this bitch!” hissed the one with the red hair.

“It breaks your heart.” agreed the one with the Hawaiian shirt. “I wish we could have given all that to a food bank instead.”

“Seriously! What is wrong with this woman? She could have just asked the neighbors if they wanted any!” said the one with the red hair.

“Didn't even say 'thank you'. I mean, we said it. You'd think she could take the hint.” said the one with the Hawaiian shirt.

The two magical beings sat in the air, watching as Madison tossed the last wheel of Camembert cheese into the garbage.

“Sooo, what are we gonna do to her?” asked the one with the red hair, lacing her fingers together.

“Do?” asked the one with the Hawaiian shirt. “Why, we can't do anything. You know the rules as well as I do. She gave us black licorice, so our hands are tied. We can't touch her or anything she owns, no matter how much she may deserve it.”

“Sooo unfair.” whined the one with the red hair.

“Yeah. This life we've chosen has its bitter moments, as well as sweet.” said the one with the Hawaiian shirt. She folded her hands in front of her sadly.

The pair hung in silence for a long moment. The cold wind whipped through their hair.

Their mouths strained. The one with the Hawaiian shirt snorted. Soon, the pair were laughing. They rolled around in the moonlight air, struggling for breath.

“Ohmagawd! I think I wet my diaper a little.” said the one with the red hair, wiping a tear from her eye.

The one with the Hawaiian shirt gasped and sputtered to a halt. “Come on. I think we have a few...unscheduled stops to make tonight.”

The two women slowly faded away, like a dream.

The next morning, Madison awoke, feeling much better. As long as she didn't look at her clearly overburdened dumpster, it was just possible to believe that her two visitors had been nothing but the product of her own imagination. She showered, delicately applied her make-up, and dressed in her finest. Sure enough, the catering staff were already setting up in the kitchen, preparing a feast fit for kings. Madison busied herself rehearsing her speech in front of the mirror, and making calls to all her invited guests, wary of any last-minute cancellations. There were none. Everything was in place for a marvelous feast.

The smell of turkey, baked brie, and hearty butternut squash soup wafted from the kitchen. She watched nervously as the white-smocked workers ran to and fro. Not once did she consider that any of them might have families of their own they might wish to see today.

Soon, the table was set. Chef Alphonse and his staff piled back into their vans and departed. Finally, the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the first of her guests.

Madison tied her autumnal apron around her waist, put on a pair of matching oven mits, and picked up a tray of candied yams, as though she had just been pulling them from the oven. She put on her most maternal, nurturing smile, and went to answer the door.

One by one, the guests trickled in and made themselves at home. First was Pastor Walter Mansfield and his wife, Ruth, who was on the city council. Next came Madison's cousin, Wanda, with her husband Mike. Wanda was a professor of Economics at Caltech. Mike was a high-ranking chemical engineer for Dow. Madison had been a little worried about Mike, but was pleased to see that Wanda had him properly suited and booted for the occasion, per her explicit instructions.

Next came Julia Weltschmerz, who owned most of the farmland within thirty miles, and Jared Southmoor, one of the city's Commissioners. Jared was a respected colleague who could be counted on to support Madison's aspirations provided that she brought him along for the ride. Julia had been a risky invitation. Someone like her added gallons of class to the occasion, but her high status was a potential threat to Madison's own position as hostess. Madison took her fur coat and directed her to the couch to make conversation before dinner.

The next to arrive was the most important of all, the one and only Daisy O' Hare. Oh, Julia Weltschmerz may have been the most prestigious guest, but prestige cannot exist unless someone is there to observe it. Daisy was the one whose thoughts and observations would be read by thousands of Sturgis residents, including most of Madison's future constituents.

Finally, Madison's sister Ashley arrived, accompanied by her daughter Joanne. Ashley was a successful trial lawyer who was expected to become a judge in the coming year. Joanne was following in her footsteps, having just recently completed her degree from Stanford Law School. Madison greeted her sister with a hug.

“You made it! So good to see you!” greeted Madison excitedly.

“Oh, I missed you! You'll have to get me caught up all the latest gossip!” said Ashley with a wide smile.

In truth, the two sisters hadn't parted under the best of circumstances. They had had a disagreement over the election a few years back, which had developed into a screaming match. They hadn't spoken to one another in nearly two years. Still, the eyes of the world were all around them, and they were both social climbers. Madison didn't always agree with her sister, but at least she understood the value of keeping up appearances.

Madison turned to her niece and proffered a hand. “And I do believe this is the next great legal mind in the family!”

“Oh, stop it!” said Joanne, flicking her wrist and rolling her eyes in a display of performative modesty.

The guests mingled in the foyer for a little over an hour. The topics of conversation ranged from next year's civic budget, the fluctuations in various commodities markets, to the prospects of several the local sports teams. Finally, it was time for the main event. Madison directed her guests to sit around the long table, each at a location marked with a small decorative card. Madison pulled the massive turkey from the oven (where it had been sitting on low heat since Chef Alphonse left) and brought it to the table with a beatific smile on her face. Daisy, Ashley, and Wanda were all snapping pictures of her on their phones, as had been arranged beforehand. Settling the turkey at the head of the table, Madison raised her wine glass and gently tapped her fork against it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, Welcome. It makes me so happy to see so many wonderful people, all gathered together to express our thanks for the wonderful world we live in, and the many ways that each of our lives have been blessed! Now, as has long been the custom in the Greene family, let's each go around the table and announce something that we are thankful for this year. Let me be the first: I'm grateful that each of you traveled so far just to be with me on this special day!”

The table applauded as Madison sat down. Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Pastor Mansfield stood to speak next. “Well, I for one am grateful for this lovely feast that Madison worked so hard to prepare!”

Madison smiled demurely at the clapping that followed, neither confirming nor correcting her friend's assertion.

His wife Ruth was next. “I'm just thankful that we have so many kind and caring friends to share this day with!”

Madison clapped and cheered along with the rest of the table, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

Mark stood next. “Well, I suppose this is the best time to make an important announcement. Actually, Wanda, could you stand as well?”

Wanda grinned and stood beside her husband. “Yes, I think you're right, dear. We are both so very grateful.”

Madison's face was frozen, but underneath she was concerned. No one had mentioned an important announcement to her.

“Shall I tell them or shall you?” asked Mike theatrically.

“Ooh, can we both say it together?” said Wanda.

Madison gritted her teeth. These two had been married for over six years. Why were they acting like excited newlyweds?

“One...Two...Three...” counted down Wanda.

“We're back in diapers!” they announced together in a sing-song voice.

Madison froze. Mike and Wanda were standing there with huge grins on their faces, while the other guests seemed utterly baffled. Questioning glances shot back and forth around the table.

“B...Beg pardon?” asked Pastor Mansfield.

“I think I must have misheard you...” said Julia.

“Diapers. We're both going to wear diapers now.” clarified Wanda, still with a huge grin. “Y'know, like what babies wear.”

“That's what we're the most grateful for.” said Mike, dropping an arm around his wife's shoulders. “It's so wonderful not to have to use the potty anymore!”

Madison felt her face drain of all color. It was as though a ringing in her ears was growing louder and louder as she struggled to maintain her composure. She was certain now that this was was some devilish trick by those two floating creatures.

Ashley raised her hand uncertainly. “Uh, just, y'know, out of curiosity...did this come about...recently?”

“Oh, yes. Very recently!” said Mike enthusiastically.

“We were just getting packed up for the trip out last night.” said Wanda.

“And all of the sudden, these two beautiful ladies came in through the window, and asked if we had any black licorice.” continued Mike.

Madison's buried her face in her hands. She was tempted to crawl under the table.

“We didn't have any, but they were really nice about it.” said Wanda, still seemingly oblivious to the horrified expressions of the other guests.

“And then they took away your potty-training.” said Ashley, looking more curious than horrified.

“Yep!” confirmed Wanda happily. “They rubbed their butts all over our faces, and when they were done, we realized that we had no idea how to us the potty anymore!”

“But then they filled up our garage with all these big packages of diapers!” said Mark. “We have at least a year's supply now. And they're so comfy!”

He patted his butt for emphasis. Now that she was looking, she saw that Mike and Wanda both had a tell-tale bulge in their pants.

“It'll be an adjustment, of course.” said Wanda. “It seems like my Mikey is always a little soggy down there, isn't he?”

Madison pinched herself, hoping desperately that this was all a horrible nightmare.

“I sure am!” agreed Mike. “And Baby Wanda seems to always need changing. I had to pull over twice on the way here to get into fresh pampers. Speaking of which...”

Mike pulled up Wanda's skirt, revealing a very thick disposable diaper. Gasps sounded from the guests. Colorful unicorns pranced across the front panel. Mike dipped a finger into the waistband.

“I don't...I don't understand.” whispered Ruth.

“What's happening? Is this meant to be a joke?” asked Jared.

“All dry! Who's my nice clean girl?” asked Mike. Wanda giggled and began undoing Mike's belt.

Madison shot to her feet. “Stop it!” she shrieked at them. “What is wrong with you? Stop!”

“Oh, they're fine!” said Ashley, also standing up. “They're just excited to show off their new diapers. I know I am!”

With that, Ashley unzipped and pulled down her formal black dress, revealing a diaper of her own. This one was decorated with happy cartoon lions.

Mike's pants and shoes were pulled off and cast aside. “Wow! Did you see the floating ladies too?” he asked.

“Sure did! I really wish I had some licorice for them, but they didn't really seem all that bothered. Now I can just poop and pee wherever I happen to be! I'm so thankful!”

Joanne raised her wineglass. “Here's to wearing your bathroom!”

The other three members of Madison's family raised their glasses and cheered. Madison felt herself start to tear up.

“Y...you too?” asked Daisy, looking utterly stunned.

“Uh-huh! It was really cool! This lady with this cool flight jacket rubbed her diaper butt on my face, and then my panties turned into a diaper!”

“I was mad at first, especially when they said I would have to change her diapers again.” said Ashley, taking a sip of wine. “But then they rubbed their butts on me too, and I realized how much fun it would be!”

“Yeah!” agreed Joanne. “They said I could watch cartoons, and play with with my stuffed animals, and even suck my thumb whenever I want. Mommy can change me when I need it, and I'll change her! Those ladies are so nice!”

“I...I think I ought to leave.” said Mrs. Weltschmerz, getting up from the table.

“Oh, don't go!” said Wanda. “You haven't seen the best part yet!”

“Yeah!” said Mike excitedly. “Here, let me show you.” He bent over and let loose a noisy, wet fart.

Like Mike, the room began to evacuate. Julia, Daisy, Jared, Ruth, and Walter all fled the house as Mike noisily filled his unicorn diapers.

“No fair! I wanna be poopy too!” said Ashley, as she got into position to follow suit. Joanne rolled her eyes.  “Again Mommy? I just changed you!”

The family laughed and cheered as they each took turns filling their diapers. Madison lay with her head resting on her plate. Joanne brought out a changing mat, and they took it in turns to change one another in between feasting on gourmet food. The party soon developed into a series of piggy-back rides, tickle fights, and several rounds of sing-along. Everyone seemed to have a wonderful time, with one notable exception. Despite their juvenile behavior, they all were all sure to thank Madison for her excellent and generous hospitality. They understood the importance of gratitude.

For her part, Madison polished off most of the wine, and found herself wishing that she had kept that cask of beer.