So, as you may recall, I had a package coming my way. Except that it didn't. I bitched about the delay--something like a week, I'm not even sure--on Twitter, as you do, and then! Thomas the UPS Dude who read my Twilight recaps rode in on Twitter to save the day! The Brown SWAT was called in! Intel was decrypted! A dark and stormy day: THE PACKAGE ARRIVED.
The Company from which The Package was sent (and to whose warehouse it got bounced back) was also as helpful as you could possibly hope for. This, for example, is one of the emails they sent:
Of course, we will do whatever we can here on our end... please let me know...
Gosh, your poor Edward has been very well traveled!!
Keep me posted...
"OH MY GOD, LOOK AT YOU."
"Most women do. I'm tired of it, really."
You may gaze upon his fabulosity. Does he dazzle you?
"Well, you sure took long enough. What were you on, the Pony Express?"
"It was far too sunny," he said, straightening his coat. "You could hardly expect me to show myself in weather like that."
"Well, sit tight--uh, stand tight--for a moment. The People are going to want pictures of you."
"Of course they will," he sighed.
HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THE LITTLE SIDEBURNS ARE YOU KIDDING ME
(I did not really see the actor resemblance until I turned him to the side, with the flat profile and everything. Robert Pattinson, dude... I'm really sorry. I don't know if I'm more weirded out for your sake or for mine. If you ever google yourself and stumble across this page--I promise not to stick in voodoo pins or do freaky shit with your plastic likeness. Girl Scout's honor, I sold the cookies and everything.)
"Nice mom jeans, man."
"They had to include a flaw of some kind. The world does not deal well with perfection."
LOOK AT THAT, YOU GUYS. OMG. He has the little WRISTBAND with THE CULLEN CREST. LOOK AT THAT. And his BUTTERSCOTCH EYES. I really wasn't sure they'd remember that. O ME OF LITTLE FAITH.
And THE HAIR. I don't even know what's going on with that. It is shellacked down so hard, I can't even tell you. You'd have to get out a hammer and chisel to get that shit to move. I don't want to screw it up! But it's kind of terrifying! I don't know! I THINK IT IS TIME FOR A POLL.
Should I mess up Tonner Edward's hair?
(This is a multiple-choice poll, by the way.)
(Sadly, "OH MY GOD STOP TALKING ABOUT MY HAIR! *BUZZCUT*" will not be an option until Tonner invents a doll that can grow its hair back.)
So: the photoshoot done, we went upstairs.
On The Shelf, conversation ceased. Instinctively, Pan huddled up against Lyra's shoulder; Serafina drew closer to her. Helm's Deep Aragorn put away his pipe and looked around for Purple Arwen, who edged closer and took his hand; Fugagorn put his arm around White Arwen's waist, but she regarded the newcomer serenely. Both the Ellowynes perked up. The Littlest Edward was idly extemporizing at his piano; he looked up when the room went quiet. Tonner Edward gave him a smirk of disdain. The Littlest Edward narrowed his eyes.
"So," he said, eyes glittering, "what have you got to eat around here?"
(More from the Secret Life of Dolls; fan community)