Like being held prisoner in the Magic Kingdom
Anyone who knows me in person has encountered the Chipmunk Voice at some point or another. I don't really know how I make it work, but it's this squeaky, giggly cartoonish twitter, sounding not unlike a pink spun-sugar teddy bear on a tank of helium, which I use to say things either adorable, horrifying, perverted, or some combination of the three. People's reaction to hearing the Chipmunk Voice comes in two flavors: there are those who love it, and those who want to punch me. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
figmentj and belgatherial, luckily for me, both fall in the first category. (During the latter's July visit, I once dropped both women to the carpet in a diabetic coma when I put on my best Bambi eyes of contrition and said, "I don't mean to be naughty, but I stole your toesies.") shadesong, on the other hand, is decidedly anti-Chipmunk, going so far as to ban the voice from her home entirely, except for brief demonstrations for the benefit of the uninitiated.
Which meant the gods' eventual justice was ever so much sweeter. On New Years Day,shadesong was in the waning stages of recovering from a nasty cold, and even though she was feeling better, the illness was still playing Duck Duck Goose with her immune system. In particular, it was at the point where the last of the mucus had settled right in the ideal spot to affect her vocal chords. When that happens to me, it leads to the usual mandatory Elmer Fudd impression (and thus a day or two of singing "Kill the rabbit! Kill the rabbit!" at full volume). But she is female and more wee and higher pitched than I, so every time she opened her mouth? Chipmunk Voice. Dead-bang perfect every time. And she couldn't stop.
And it was adorable, people. She would try to be serious, but the effect was like Cindy Lou Who addressing Congress. Finally, after some teasing, she did the only thing one can do when saddled with such a voice: abuse the living snot out of it, first by using it to get her way ("But I'm sick!"), then by throwing her hands in the air and tiny-shouting random horrors to the room. "MISANDRYYYYY!" for instance, or later, "DOUBLE-HEADED DILDOOOO!" I am deeply sorry that no one got a recording of this—think of the ring tone potential—but for the few hours before the phlegmata settled further down all I could think was, "Welcome to my world, cupcake."
And then I did the voice again, and she glared as if wanting to punch me. C'est la guerre.
figmentj and belgatherial, luckily for me, both fall in the first category. (During the latter's July visit, I once dropped both women to the carpet in a diabetic coma when I put on my best Bambi eyes of contrition and said, "I don't mean to be naughty, but I stole your toesies.") shadesong, on the other hand, is decidedly anti-Chipmunk, going so far as to ban the voice from her home entirely, except for brief demonstrations for the benefit of the uninitiated.Which meant the gods' eventual justice was ever so much sweeter. On New Years Day,
shadesong was in the waning stages of recovering from a nasty cold, and even though she was feeling better, the illness was still playing Duck Duck Goose with her immune system. In particular, it was at the point where the last of the mucus had settled right in the ideal spot to affect her vocal chords. When that happens to me, it leads to the usual mandatory Elmer Fudd impression (and thus a day or two of singing "Kill the rabbit! Kill the rabbit!" at full volume). But she is female and more wee and higher pitched than I, so every time she opened her mouth? Chipmunk Voice. Dead-bang perfect every time. And she couldn't stop.And it was adorable, people. She would try to be serious, but the effect was like Cindy Lou Who addressing Congress. Finally, after some teasing, she did the only thing one can do when saddled with such a voice: abuse the living snot out of it, first by using it to get her way ("But I'm sick!"), then by throwing her hands in the air and tiny-shouting random horrors to the room. "MISANDRYYYYY!" for instance, or later, "DOUBLE-HEADED DILDOOOO!" I am deeply sorry that no one got a recording of this—think of the ring tone potential—but for the few hours before the phlegmata settled further down all I could think was, "Welcome to my world, cupcake."
And then I did the voice again, and she glared as if wanting to punch me. C'est la guerre.