When Pete sees the artifact, sitting innocently on the shelf in the Carroll aisle, he only thinks for two point five seconds before he pushes the button. He reads the screen “allows user to communicate directly with infant” and YES he would like to talk to Junior, he bets she would have super fun things to say, so he punches the button on McDonald’s baby monitor and waits.
When nothing happens he reads the next line – “must be within 100 feet of infant.” Oh. He wanders off down the aisle. Judith is probably in the office, right?
Sure enough, as he starts climbing the stairs he hears a sleepy little voice whispering in his head. “Cozy. Cozy. Warm.”
“Whoa that’s wild, it works!” he announces triumphantly when he spots her dozing off, tiny face nestled up against Myka as she hums and rocks back and forth from the ball of one foot to the other automatically, while reading some thick and dusty book about the history of trebuchets.
“What works? And shh, she’s almost out,” Myka says in that low even tone she reserves for when the baby’s going to sleep or when she’s telling crazy people (or Pete) they probably don’t want to pick that thing if they want to live.
“Judith whispered in my ear that she was feeling cozy, and look! Cozy times!” Pete whisper-shouts.
Myka narrows her eyes at him. “What did you push? And where did you push it?”
“Uhhh, some baby monitor, and don’t know, wasn’t paying that much attention.”
Myka groans. “Pete. Did you read to the bottom of the screen first? No wait, don’t answer that, I already know you didn’t.”
Pete shrugs. “I am who I am. It’s gonna be awesome. I’m going to be the baby whisperer, like literally Mykes!”
Myka rolls her eyes. “Oh… hooray. I’m sure you’ll be solving the mysteries of a three week old baby in no time.”
“You mock, but just you wait.” Pete yawns. “I’m gonna be… so… helpful.” He wanders over to the couch. “I just need a little nap first, ok? But if she wakes up and you need me, you just…” he waves his hand vaguely at Myka and then he’s out cold, snoring with his mouth open.
Myka stares at Pete, then a crooked grin starts to spread across her face.
“Hey Claud?” she whispers into her Farnsworth. “You’re coming in soon, right? Do you still have all your makeup from Halloween?”
Myka and Claudia are giggling so loudly they almost wake up both Pete and Judith as they snap the picture. Myka drags Claudia onto the balcony so they can collapse against the wall, they’re laughing so hard.
“This is too good to save for just us, right? I mean. We need to share the majesty of this moment.”
“I have Amanda’s number.”
“YES. Do it!”
Amanda texts back to say she always knew Pete was into glam rock in his heart of hearts. Kelly texts back five laugh emojis and asks if they have any wigs. They’re just about to investigate when the Univille Goodwill opens when Judith’s face screws up and turns red and she howls.
“Oh, ok honey, let’s go get you fixed up.” Myka turns to Claudia. “Be back in a minute.”
Pete’s yawning awake, too. “She’s… eww. She needs a diaper change, Myka. She says wet and cold and help.”
Myka is glad she’s already walking past Pete so he can’t see how far her eyes have rolled into her head. “Oh thanks, Pete, I’ll definitely get right on that.”
“You’re welcome. Baby whisperer to the rescue.”
“Hey baby whisperer, you might want to look in the mirror.”
Ten seconds later, from the bathroom: “Aww sweet! Gene Simmons!” Pete comes out with his tongue sticking out as far as it’ll go, and Myka snaps another close-up and immediately sends it out to everyone they know.
Little babies sleep a LOT.
The Univille Goodwill does indeed have wigs. And a clown nose. And mirror sunglasses.
They tell Steve. He protests immediately that he isn’t THAT kind of gay guy, but he does bring hairspray and lipstick from the drug store.
They tell Helena. She raises one eyebrow. “Have you considered the possibilities inherent in Photoshop?”
They don’t tell Artie. He would make them stop, surely.
As it turns out, to absolutely nobody’s surprise except Pete, tiny babies really only talk about being wet, hungry, cold or tired. Even Judith, who is a genius according to her Mum and her Uncle Pete. (Her MyMy, familiar with the pressures of that label, refuses to say aloud what a genius she is. Which she is. Obviously.) The most complicated thing she has to tell Pete in the whole three days this goes on is that she’s cold AND hungry.
By the time Artie notices that Pete falls asleep every time the baby does, and makes them re-goo the monitor, Pete has a new Instagram account with over 500 followers.
“I think my favorite one is the one where I’m all arms out like Jesus and you clipped the couch out from the background and made it look like I’m surfing in Hawaii. I look like a pretty rad dude!”
“That one’s good Pete. But what about this one where you’re doing Hamlet’s big monologue holding a skull, with drool hanging off your lip?”
“I still think this one where you made him into the Lion King is pretty inspired, Claud.”
“Well in my opinion, it’s hard to top Caveman Pete riding the Brachiosaurus. Inspired, truly.”
Artie cuts in. “First of all, you all have to delete that account. That’s a ridiculous lapse in security. I can't believe you made it in the first place, just stunningly poor judgement.”
“And second of all, it’s obvious which one is the best. Pete, you truly pulled off Dr. Frank N Furter. I think maybe you should invest in a pair of real fishnets, instead of just the digital kind.”