"Well, here we are again. Playing with the dust bunnies and trying not to sneeze."
"What's the name of this kid?"
"Timmy. They're always named Timmy. Or Billy, or Sammy, or if they're a girl, Mary or Sally. Why is we monsters always wait under the beds of little kids whose names end in Y? You'd think that adding that extra letter made them more of a delicacy. Me, the best tasting kid I ever had was named Jeremiah. You don't hear names like Jeremiah anymore. He was nice and plump and juicy, and had just the right amount of seasoning. Yummy, my mouth's watering just at the thought of him. So, why do you think a lot of kids have names that end in Y?"
"I don't know, Bill."
"So much dirt under here, I can barely keep from sneezing. I've lost more than a few meals that way. I have a very sensitive nose, Sam."
"I know that, Bill."
"But at least it's only dust here. Sometimes it's dirt, underwear and unwashed socks. Once I found a tuna sandwich under a bed. Thing had to be five, maybe six years old. It was covered in the most interesting fungus, and smelled like you wouldn't believe. While I like that stuff as much as any other monster, it does make it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. You'd think that folks would take pride in their homes."
"We're under the bed, Bill. No one ever comes down here; no one ever looks in here."
"Well, you'd still think they'd clean it. You know, for our sakes."
"For our sakes, Bill?
"Yes, for our sakes. Is that too much to ask? A clean area under the bed?"
"We're monsters, Bill. For one thing, some people don't even believe we exist."
"Why is that? What - do they think that shadow on the wall is really just a set of clothes? That the noise they heard was really just the house settling? Give me a break. Humans aren't that stupid."
"Well, all right, maybe they are. But still, a lot of folks do believe in us, especially the little ones. You'd think that they would take the extra effort to make things just a little more pleasant for us."
"Well, then there's the fact that most people don't like monsters very much."
"Oh, so the truth comes out. I was well aware of that, and I, for one am sick and tired of it! We should form an organization to combat that kind of thing. Maybe we could get the vampires and the ghosts in it too, all the things that go bump in the night."
"Don't stop me now, Sam. I'm on a roll! I can see my opening address now: AFriends! Our kind have been terrorized for years! From the horror of exorcism to the genocidal tool that is garlic, we can never be safe! The humans have hunted in angry mobs, armed with pitchforks and torches for centuries! They mock us with stereotypes like Casper and the Cookie Monster! I long for the day when a banshee can scream in peace, and a werewolf can enjoy a nice walk under the moon unafraid! My brothers and sisters, that time is near!'
"I can hear them now, Sam, the cheering and adoration. They'll call me Bill, the Liberator! After all, why should Monstrous-Americans be persecuted? Just because we have tentacles, scaly green skin, and often more than one head doesn't mean we'll eat them or something!"
"But we do eat them, Bill. We wait under their children's beds, grab them by the footsie pajamas. and scarf them down for a late-night snack!"
"Oh, can you still call me Bill the Liberator?"
"No, Bill, I won't do that."
"Oh, please! I've always hated my name. Other monsters get cool names like Torg the Hungry, or Grsxzkght He-That-Comes-At-Night, but what name do I get? Bill. Just plain old Bill. Doesn't exactly inspire terror, does it? Come on, Sam, if you call me Bill the Liberator I'll call you, uh, Sam the Groovy!'
"No, Bill, I'm rather fond of my name."
"Oh, well, when is this kid supposed to get here, anyway? I want to get home in time to watch Seinfeld."
"I think he heard you, Bill. I think he was alerted sometime during your shpiel on how Casper is a cruel stereotype, and he left. Thanks to you, we won't have any dinner tonight! I should really thank you, having a partner who rants on and on about nothing is a marvelous dieting tool!
"Well. This is really great! I come all the way here, I lie for hours under a dark, dusty bed aggravating my allergies, all for nothing! Why, I haven't been this disappointed since that time in Jersey!"
"Yes, Sam, what is it?"
"Shut up, Bill." 1
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.