Vampire Crush

I was the luckiest guy in school. Paula Jenson, the prettiest girl in school, asked me out. Me, Brendan Jasper, the overweight nerd with a shirt pocket full of pens, out on a date. Well, it wasn't a date. It was just to hangout at her place, but her parents weren't home. Sounded like a date to me. Little did I know what was all planned for the evening. 

When I got there, I was super nervous. I was sweaty and my face was as red as a lobster. It must have been a turn on, because when she opened the door to greet me, she was practically salivating. No woman had ever looked at me like I was a tasty meal. Usually they looked at me with disgust or contempt. Paula was different. She genuinely wanted me. I could tell by how her blue eyes sparkled, staring deep through my very soul. Her blonde hair was done up, held together by a black hair scrunchie. She was even wearing a nice sundress, which was much different than her normal, albeit more sexy, skinny jeans and Hollister top. It meant I was important enough to dress up for, or at least that's how I took it. My confidence grew by the second and she pulled me inside. Wow, she was eager. 

First, Paula gave me a tour of her folks place, which was quite something. Victorian era everything from the furniture to the wallpaper. It even had a study full of books that made our school library look pathetic by comparison. I could've stayed in the dreamland of books forever, but alas, my lady wanted me elsewhere. Her bedroom.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I'm going to make us some tea," Paula said after ushering me in her room and taking off again down the stairs.

I sat there awkwardly in her plain looking room wondering what to do. She brought me to her room, but I had no idea how to proceed. Did she want to talk in private or was she insinuating something else? I didn't want to misstep anywhere and screw it up. After all, a guy like me would be lucky to even be in the same hemisphere as her. In no time, she came back with two cups of piping hot tea. 

When I took the cup from her, I felt her hands were still cold. When she was pulling me around the manor, I thought for sure she just had poor circulation. My hands were almost on fire from holding the cup of tea, but she walked it up here without a yelp or a yip. 

I had to put it down on her dresser so my hands didn't melt off. "Wow this is hot. How can you handle it?"

"I guess I just don't feel it," she took a sip, not breaking eye contact from me. 

"You have a wonderful home. How long have you lived here?"

"All my life that I can remember. My family has owned it for generations. I saw you really liked my dad's study."

"It is remarkable! Has he read all of those books?"

"We all have."

Beauty and brains. "Wow! What is your favorite one?"

"I can't really pick one. Classic stories like Dracula and Frankenstein come to mind. Their renditions are a bit inaccurate, but still entertaining." She put her cup down next to mine and sat next to me on the couch. Her hand slowly snaked closer to my thigh. "Lately though, I have found a lot of pleasure in anatomy."

I gulped. Not like a silent gulp, but like a loud one she definitely heard. A smile grew on her face, undeterred by my now stiff neck. I thought I would be excited having her come on to me, but in the moment I was terrified. Her cold hand rubbed my jeans while her foot pulled my sock off. It was moving too fast and I had to say something.

"Um…Paula. Are you sure we should–" I said before her finger touched my mouth. 

"Shhh. You haven't even heard what my favorite body part is."

"Um…I think I can take a guess."

She leaned and whispered into my ear. "Veins."

"Wait…what?" I asked, but my answer was given far too quickly. 

In an instant, she sunk her fangs into my neck. I had given blood before, but this was on another level. It felt like extra large needles rammed into my neck. My blood left my body like water from a water hose or at least it felt like that. I tried to roll on top of her, but she dug in deeper. The pain was way worse when I moved and I became lightheaded. It wasn't long until I was in and out of consciousness.

What I remember right after that was blurry. She kept taking breaks and playing with my hair. Whenever I would start to move, she would dig in again. After the fourth time, she looked more panicked than excited. Next thing I know, I was wrapped up in a tarp and dragged around her house. Once we got to the stairs, she knocked me out on one of the steps. When I woke up, it was dark and I could feel something cold and heavy on top of me.

The tarp had me constrained fairly well, but my pens came in handy. I was able to wiggle one to my hand and cut open the tarp. It took some effort, but I shimmied my way out of tarp and pushed the dirt off me. She tried to bury me alive in a shallow grave. Crazy did not begin to describe it all. My crush was a vampire who tried to bury me like a dog bone.

There was no reason to stick around and my car was in front of the house still. I made a dash for it, when I saw headlights pulling in the driveway. Her parents were home and if she was a vampire, I bet the parents were too. Before the lights shined on me, I dove into the bushes next to the house window. The clunk of the doors closing made me jump, thinking they knew I was there. I had to listen carefully to know the best time to make a break for it. The door creaked open and closed and it wasn't a second when I heard her dad speak…or rather yell.

"What the hell is this!" Paula's dad said.

I heard footsteps rushing down the stairs and wanted to make a break for it, but I wanted them farther away from the door I would inevitably need to pass.

"Mother. Father…what are you doing home so soon?" Paula's voice was timid and almost scared.

"Do you mind telling me why our floor has blood smears on it?" Paula's dad took a few more steps and lost it. "Good God Paula! Even the stairs are a mess!"

"I'm sorry. I was going to clean it up–" Paula began before getting a slap to the face. 

She tumbled to the ground and her head bounced against the banister. How did I know this? Once I heard the smack of his hand I shot straight up staring into the window. Her dad was standing over her in a black suit, seething with rage while Paula covered her cheek and cried. Even though she tried to kill me, I felt sorry for her. She didn't deserve that. No one deserved to be abused, no matter what they did. I was going to intervene, but then I remembered, they are vampires and I am probably one pint away from death. All I could do was watch. 

"Get up." 

Paula did as she was told, but was unable to look her dad in the eye. It worked out in my favor, since if she looked up, I would be done for. 

"I'm sorry, Father. I–"

"I don't want to hear your excuses. You defiled our home. Even humans know better to only eat at the dining table. You will clean this up before you go to bed. Is that understood?"

She nodded. 

"Good." Her dad marched off and Paula's mom came over to comfort her. And I would be remiss if I didn't comment on her gorgeous evening gown. Ruby red dress leaving her supple back exposed. Easy to see where Paula got her good looks from.

"It's okay, dear. Nothing that can't be fixed." Paula's mom reassured her. "Did you at least get rid of the body?"

"Yes, mother."

Her mom took a sniff. "Hmmm. Smells like a boy. Was he cute?"

"Kinda," she said, but her blush gave her away. I had no idea vampires could blush. I also had no idea vampires existed until then. I had a lot of questions.

"You're blushing. How long ago did you eat?"

"There was so much, you wouldn't believe it. I am still full, I couldn't even finish."

Her mom smirked and glanced up the stairs. "Oh, I would believe it. Why don't we go upstairs and get something to clean this up?"

They both went up the stairs and I took that as my cue to get the hell out of there. The trick was turning on my car without being heard or seen. I quietly ran to my car and not a creak came from my door. Thank God! I made sure to manually switch off the lights and sat in my car for a second, wondering how I was going to pull this off. Cars aren't silent and sometimes mine had a tendency to not start on the first attempt. 

"Please baby, work for me. I beg of you," I whispered to my steering wheel and turned the key. It whined for a second and turned over with a full roar. "Yes!"

I backed up slowly out of the driveway. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was about to escape undiscovered when her dad opened the door. Out of reflex, I turned on my lights to blind him and turned off onto the main road behind me. At this point there was no hiding my escape, so I peeled out of there as fast as I could. I thought for sure I would get into a chase or something, but all he did was shake his head as if I was some random kid pulling shitties in the parking lot. It was a small relief, but a new terror entered my mind. How was school going to turn out tomorrow?

***

The next morning did not come soon enough. I had nightmares whenever I started to actually fall asleep. My blankets felt more like wet wipes, but it beat being buried alive with a tarp for a forever blanket. The whole time I kept thinking, what am I going to do about Paula? She tried to kill me. Shouldn't I tell the police? It was a serious consideration when I got home yesterday, but I thought about it. No one would believe me and if they did, any evidence would be cleaned up.

What else could I do? I still had to go to school. I had a final in chemistry that I could not miss, even though Paula sits across from me in class. There was no avoiding her. I needed advice, so after I got dressed with something that would hide the bite marks, I went to see my dad. He was always a good listener and occasionally gave good advice.

My dad was in the garage, as he was every morning, working on picking a new lock. It was his morning ritual before heading off to his real job, which if I am being honest, I didn't know what he did. He jumped around jobs so much, it was hard to keep track. When I knocked on the door, he spun in his chair, beaming like my little sister Jeanie after beating us all in mini golf.

"Brendan, come in. I'm almost done with this one," he said and returned his focus on his lock.

"Um…dad can we talk?"

He didn't take his eyes off the lock. "Of course, what's on your mind son?"

"I was wondering if you could help me out with a hypothetical."

"I certainly can. What is it?"

"So…what would you do if someone tried to kill you and thought they succeeded, but they didn't, and you have to see them the next day?"

"That is tricky." My dad contorted his face, clearly focusing more on the lock. "Do you absolutely have to see this person tomorrow?"

More like today. "No way around it."

"Where you are meeting this person, are you safe?"

"It's a semi public place."

"Interesting."

"Really?"

A click came from the lock. My dad lifted up his arms in victory. "Yes! I got it!"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"I certainly am. What I would do in that situation is give them a hug."

My dad had clearly lost it. "A hug?"

"Yeah. You aren't in danger if you meet in public and clearly they are in need of some love. Give them a hug. If it's a girl, you give her a big smooch on the cheek. They like that."

"I think we have some consent issues with the kiss."

"Pfff. I think you are way past worrying about consent if a woman is trying to kill you. And besides, who doesn't love a good smooch? How do you think I won over your mom?"

I had to leave after he winked at me. He was not taking this seriously. Then again how could he? My scenario is completely ridiculous. I knew I would come up with something. After I grabbed a poptart from the pantry, I hopped in my car and mindlessly drove to the most awkward school day of my life.

My school wasn't much to look at. A generic brick building that was probably made back in the fifties. The inside was even older looking, except for our chemistry lab. It had a timeless look to it and was kept up well by Mr. Flanders. The sinks at every table were new along with some bunsen burners. It was an open secret that the principal and him were seeing each other, thus why his lab was the newest thing here. There was another rumor that the reason it was so clean was to hide what goes on after hours. I always suspected it wasn't true. I've seen our principal a few times. She was always grumpy.

The school day went by in a blur. All I remember was talking to my pal, Rosco, at lunch and chemistry class at the end of the day. I thought it was a blessing for it to be at the end, but all it did was make me more nervous. The anticipation of it all made my stomach turn. All the possible scenarios swirled in my head. Once I opened the door to the class and saw the look on her face, my worries actually melted away.

Paula was always early and I always came in mere seconds before the bell because my locker was on the far side of the school. It's like the administration was trying to give me a hint or something. That bell, which declared my arrival, prompted her to lift her head up from her textbook she was studying. Her eyes grew two sizes and her jaw almost dropped to the floor. Surprise did not begin to describe her reaction and my relief. She was utterly petrified. I could only imagine what she was thinking. It gave me strength and confidence like no other.

"Hey there Paula. You ready for our chemistry final?"

Her mouth quivered and had difficulty finding words. "Uh…um…um–"

"You okay, Paula? You don't look so good."

"I'm…uh, fine…" Paula said and closed her textbook. She distracted herself by putting her book in her backpack below the table between us. Her head was hidden under the table, giving me a great line. I must have been channeling my inner dad.

"Don't go biting me down there."

She lurched her head up, banging the counter. Mr. Flanders arrived in time to see it and handed our table the exam.

"Are you okay, Paula?" Mr. Flanders asked, sliding an exam to her.

She rubbed her head and tried to smile. "Yes, I'm fine. Just bonked my head a little."

"You gotta protect that head of yours. You're gonna need it for this exam."

"Yes, Mr. Flanders."

He moved on to the next table and Paula didn't dare look up at me. She grabbed her pencil and started her exam. There was no point in talking anymore. I had won this round and oddly enough sounded like my dad. My newfound confidence paid off on my exam as well. I was the first one done with thirty minutes to spare. All I did was flip my exam over and watched Paula take her test.

She held her pencil so tight it almost broke in her grip. Every answer she circled was wobbly, uncertain of the answer. There was no way this exam was breaking her. It was me who was sitting across from her. Not everyday you kill someone and they show up the next morning. I was no vampire, but I imagine it was pretty distracting to her.

My mind started to wander from why she was so nervous to how beautiful she was. Sure, she tried to kill me, but I would be lying if she wasn't the most attractive woman I ever met. Her hair was combed nicely and mostly hid her face from me. I guess my gawking caught the attention of Mr. Flanders or maybe he noticed Paula was uncomfortable because he asked me to leave early so I didn't distract anyone.

He didn't have to tell me twice. Once I got up to leave, Paula's head shot up. I couldn't read her face, but she handed Mr. Flanders her exam and reached for her backpack. There was no way she finished her exam. She had one more page to do. Clearly she wanted to confront me and there was no better time. I opened the door and walked as fast as I could to my locker. There were more classrooms there, which meant more witnesses if she decided to finish the job. The problem was my lack of fitness prevented me from getting too far before her quick feet caught up to me.

"Brendan! Wait! Can you hold up a second?"

I don't know what came over me, but I actually stopped. I guess the middle of the hallway would have to do. At least there would be nowhere for her to run or stuff my body. She rushed over to me while still being careful to keep her distance.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?" I asked, trying to pretend nothing was wrong.

She looked down at the floor and swung her foot gently along it. "About…you know…"

I took a step forward. My heart pounded in my head the closer I got to her. She didn't look up as I approached as if expecting more punishment. It reminded me of when she was face to face with her dad. Paula almost shuddered from how close I was standing. It was painful to watch, but I knew what I could do to fix that.

I kissed her on the cheek. Soft and gentle like a parent would do for their child. She looked up at me, but didn't recoil away in disgust. Her eyes begged me for a reason for my bold move.

"That is the only smack your face ever deserves."

Water welled up in her eyes before she broke down and cried in my chest. I held her, feeling her whole body shake. This was a new experience for me, but naturally I knew what to do. She needed comfort and I was going to give it to her. After what felt like a few minutes, she pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Why…why aren't you mad?"

I smirked. "Might be the blood loss. My brain hasn't been working too good ever since."

She laughed. I knew she needed some levity from it all and to be honest I really didn't know why I wasn't mad. I should've been, but I wasn't. Must be genetic. My dad could forgive anyone pretty effortlessly. Maybe I can too.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"You let me take you out on a proper date. All I ask is that you come already full," I said, pulling on my collar.

"After all that I did to you and you know what I am, you still want to go out with me?"

"It depends. Did you mean what you told your mom about me?"

She smiled. "Which part?"

"Wait, there was more? Now you got to tell me."

Paula went up on her tip toes and kissed me. Her fangs pricked my lower lip ever so slightly, but it was a far cry from the pain last night. "I'll tell you tonight. Pick me up at seven?"

"Seven it is," I said. She turned around and I pinched her butt, getting her to jump. Paula turned around, looking a little annoyed, but I wasn't going to let her get away with stealing my blood so easily. "You get to sneak another taste of blood and I get nothing?"

She smirked, realizing there was some equivalency to it. "If I let you pinch me again, can I get another sip?"

"Save it for our date."

"I can't wait," she said, licking her lips.

I was playing with fire, but I didn't care. She was so much more interesting than anyone I had ever met and now we have so much to talk about. There is a whole new world I have never known about, other than what I knew from movies and books, which clearly some of it wasn't true.

And that is the story of how I met my girlfriend. Clearly our first date went well since I am telling this story, but I have much to learn. Vampire/human relations are tricky, but right now it is quite rewarding. Paula is even more amazing than I thought and I'm glad she didn't drain me for all I was worth. Now we just have to convince her parents I'm more than just a tasty sack of blood. Wish us luck tonight!

***

Subscription sloth

It's been a month since I canceled that stupid subscription my sister ordered for me. If I had known my life would turn out like this, I would've happily let the pile of beauty magazines live in my bathroom. The problem was my bros were giving me weird looks and the subscription cost fifty bucks a month. My male pride can take a little beating, but my wallet can't. If anyone else is reading this, you might be asking yourself, what the hell is he talking about? I'm talking about getting cursed! 

So, it all started with my sister, Maggie. She is such a twerp. Why would I say such a terrible thing about my little sister? Because she bought me a "birthday gift" using my credit card for something she wanted. Locked me in for three months. When she gets old enough to have her own credit card, I'm ordering Monster Truck Weekly for her. That'll show her. 

Sorry, I am getting off topic. After enduring the pain of watching my hard earned money being grinded into a flimsy bound packet of moisturizing tips and questionable dating advice, I finally was able to cancel it. I had to call their hotline where I talked to a strange lady with a California beach blonde accent. Trust me, you know the type. Our conversation went something like this:

"Beauty Stars Quarterly, my name is Candice. How can I make your day sparkle?"

I assume she broke out the jazz hands when she said it. Felt like the kinda thing she would do.

"Hi, I was hoping you could help me cancel my subscription?"

"Why on earth would you want to do that, silly?"

"My sister bought it for me by accident and it is on my card."

"Sounds like your sister has good taste. You are lucky to have her." Her smile almost reached through the phone, judging from the peppy tone.

"Sure, sure. Can you help me out though?"

The line went silent for a few seconds and something was definitely scribbled down on a piece of paper.

"What is your name?"

"Jerry Devinson."

Her tone then changed in an instant. The peppy Candice was gone. In her place was sassy Candice. And not the fun kind of sassy. "Well, Jerry Devinson. I think you don't know what you're asking."

"Excuse me?"

"You're given a once in a lifetime opportunity and you want to throw it away, for what?"

"Money. It costs too much."

"You just sound too lazy to work a little harder."

That is when I lost it. "Who do you think you are, lady? I just want my subscription canceled. Is that too much to ask?

She scoffed and I heard keys clicking on the other side. Little did I know the next thing she said would change my life forever. 

"There. I canceled it, but it comes at a price."

"You aren't charging me a cancellation fee?"

"No. I curse you! You deserve to be with your own kind. Sloths will follow you around until the end of time!"

"Whatever lady," I said and hung up. It was one of the stranger conversations I've had, but I went to bed that night without a worry. My wallet was going to be fifty bucks healthier next month. 

I woke up the next morning, ready to tackle the day. Brushed my teeth, showered, got dressed, and when I went to make breakfast, there was a sloth lounging in my sink. Safe to say I was surprised. My next thought was how it even got inside, but when I saw my window open, I figured it was just an unlikely coincidence. It took me a few minutes to convince the little guy to leave, giving me a few minutes of peace to eat breakfast and head out to work. Never even considered the curse to be real.

Next, my commute. It was only a few minutes by bike, but not too scenic. During that ride, the most animals I ever saw were the occasional squirrel and bird. That day though, I saw sloths. One was crossing a road, one was up in a tree, another on the sidewalk. It was bizarre. There was even a news briefing about it on the nightly news. I thought it was just a strange day, but it was only the beginning.

Everyday sloths grew in numbers and seemed to always be going where I was going to be. The grocery store, the bike shop, the electronics store, even my workplace. I had to explain to my boss, "No, I don't own an army of pet sloths, nor do I feed them." At some point, my boss found it cheaper to just have me work from home. I thought it was a blessing. Nope. The sloths had more time to congregate at my one location. At any given time, my yard was swarmed with sloths. It was like a pilgrimage for them, all hoping to get a glimpse of me.

There have been some upsides. I made it on the local news and even had an agent reach out to negotiate my book deal. I don't know for what exactly, but I thought at least I can make some money off this major inconvenience. When I was able to get out of my house, people called me: The Sloth Whisperer. Kinda cool, but eventually the baggage of having all these sloths around me took a toll. I needed to get away.

What I did was drastic. I quit my job and with some help from a private pilot, flew out to a small private island, far away from any landmass. In order to prevent any sloths from following me, I brought everything I needed to be self-sustaining on the island. Water purifier, gardening supplies, you name it, I had it. Maxed out my credit cards and emptied my savings. I was finally going to be free…

As I am writing now, I realize there is a flaw in my plan. This curse was of the supernatural. How else would sloths know to converge on me, wherever I went? In the sky above me, I see sloths being airdropped with little parachutes. Must be some cult follower or animal hugger who thinks I need those creatures in my life. I need to accept my fate. These sloths will be with me always. Whoever finds this journal one day, let there be one thing to learn from my pain. Do not cancel your subscription, you will regret it.

***

The Hair Snakes

Nothing in life is perfect, even my girlfriend. Don't get me wrong, she is amazing, not to mention: beautiful, intelligent, witty, caring, and eagerly accepts any opportunity to be with me. By all metrics, I have one great gal. There is one problem, her hair hates me. Now you might be asking yourself, her hair? How? Let me explain. 

First, full disclosure, my girlfriend is not your normal, run of the mill woman. She is the definition of exotic. When I first met her, I thought she had cornrows. It was a reasonable assumption, given she said her dad was from Jamaica and she never corrected me when I mentioned it. By our third date though, there was no ignoring the fact her hair certainly moved on its own accord and definitely hissed at me. At that point, she dropped the bomb on me. Her mother was Medusa. 

I always thought Medusa was a myth, but I guess I was wrong. Not only is Medusa real, but she makes a mean moussaka. Sorry, I am getting off subject. You are here to hear about my girlfriend's hair, not her mom's cooking skills. Anyways, back to her hair. 

So, Brianna and I have been dating for a few months, but it seems any time we are not in public, her hair decides to be combative with me. Sometimes they hiss when I approach her, spread out in a menacing way when we are playing pickleball, or simply bite me when we lock lips for a little too long. I guess they are snakes, but come on! Brianna constantly apologizes for her hair's behavior and says they have a mind of their own. It is not fair to either of us, but I think I have an idea on how to fix the problem. I will let you know how it goes.

-Timothy

***

Okay, so I did it. I enacted my plan and I have to say, I think it worked. I think we finally turned a corner. Let me tell you what happened. 

It was late last night and she was cuddled up on the couch listening to an audiobook. Her audiobooks don't bother me and I secretly like listening to them too, but yesterday I told her I needed to focus on some "work" and needed complete silence. She is sweet and was about to turn it off, when I handed her some headphones. Noise cancelling was ideal, because me and her hair were going to have some words. 

Once she donned them, the snakes were ready to let me have it, hissing immediately. I had enough of that and let them know. 

"What is your deal? What did I do to you?"

The snakes all stuck out their tongues and gave me a menacing glare. They swayed back and forth as if searching for the best place to strike me. 

"I know you can talk. Why don't you just tell me what I did?"

"Yousss knows what yous didsss," her hair responded in one voice. 

"I genuinely don't."

"Liesss."

"I'm not lying. If you want an apology, I apologize, but please tell me what I did," I said.

"Whyss should wess?"

I stepped toward them. "Because I'm not going anywhere. I care about Brianna too much. I want to bury the hatchet, so tell me what I have to do and I'll do it. Please."

They pondered how to respond to my statement, each of their heads all looking at each other, silently communicating with their tongues before turning back to me. It took them so long to answer, I knew they were conflicted about something.

"Youss called us cornrowsss."

"Excuse me?" I said, confused by their statement. 

"Wess don't likess yousss because yousss called us cornrowsss. Wess have a namess!"

And that was the moment it hit me, those snakes weren't just something attached to her, they were another being altogether. It took me too long to figure that out, but I made my apology count. 

"Oh…I'm truly sorry. When Brianna said you had a mind of your own, I didn't realize you were literally another being, but I really should have. Can you forgive me?"

"Maybe…"

"Then at least tell me your name."

"Cassie."

I slowly extended my hand to them, palm up and fingers spread out. "It's nice to meet you, Cassie. I'm Timothy, the brain dead ape who should have treated you with respect from the beginning."

I was half expecting to get bit, but I played my hand. It was all up to them to either accept my apology or not. Instead of getting death by a thousand snake bites, they slithered between my fingers and around my hand. It was actually quite pleasant.

Naturally though, Brianna was going to notice I was standing so close to her when I said I needed to do "work." She took off her headphones and smiled up at me.

"Hey, are you finally getting along with my hair?" Brianna asked.

"Excuse me, they have a name. Cassie," I said and smiled at the snakes who continued to slither all over my hand. 

"Are you done with work then?"

"I think for tonight. Do you mind if I listen in?"

She threw the headphones aside and made room for me on the couch. The rest of the night we held each other and I rested my hand on Cassie. Cassie never bit me or hissed and fell asleep in no time. It was the best night I had with Brianna and I have a feeling there will be many more to come. Wish me luck!

-Timothy aka The Snake Charmer

Truth Serum

"Honey, I'm home!" Alfred announced from the doorway.

There was no response. The white walls in the hall stared back at him in judgmental silence. Alfred closed the door and kicked off his shoes. Loosening his red tie, he walked forward to the kitchen where his wife usually was cooking up something irresistible. He could hear the water bubbling and a smile spread across his face. Hugging the wall, he crept up to the corner and jumped out into the kitchen. He stayed upright for a moment, before the slippery floor took him down. He crashed to the floor with a loud thud, landing mostly on his back.

"Ouch," Alfred strained to say.

He looked around and realized his wife wasn't there. Alfred picked himself up and pondered where she would be. She wouldn't have started food and not been here. The table was set for two and a covered saucepan was on the other burner. Maybe she was upstairs changing? Either way, he took this opportunity to sneak a peak at what she had in-store for him.

"Please be spaghetti!" Alfred said, lifting the saucepan cover to reveal a thicker white sauce. "Hot damn! Alfredo. What did I do to deserve a woman like you, Heather?"

Suddenly a muffled moaning came from downstairs. And not the good kind he was used to hearing. Without hesitation, Alfred sprung into action. He opened the pantry and plunged his hand into a box of Life Crunch cereal. When he removed his hand, he was holding a midnight black handgun, lightly dusted with crushed up flakes. It was Heather's idea to store a gun there in case of a burglary. Alfred had reservations about it at first, but mostly because she wanted to put it in his favorite cereal. Star Bangle Crunch cereal was a national treasure. A cereal that deserved the honor of being eaten, not used to store America's other favorite pastime.

Alfred rushed out of the kitchen and belted down the stairs. The basement was all cement walls and poured concrete floor. A single light dangled above the open space where an elderly man in a bright blue suit was tied to a rickety wood chair. Standing over the man, facing away from Alfred, was a woman with dark hair, wearing a faded white shirt and tight jeans. He didn't recognize the woman at all, until his eyes wandered down her body. He could recognize his wife's ass anywhere.

"Heather?" Alfred asked, hoping to confirm this strange woman wasn't his wife's butt double.

"Just one moment Alfred…" Heather said without turning around. "Alfred!"

Heather turned her back on the tied up man, trying to hide him from Alfred's view. Her hands were behind her back and she gave Alfred an innocent smile.

"Sweetie, I didn't realize you would be back so soon," Heather said.

"I...didn't realize you tied up old people in our basement."

"It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like you are interrogating a...politician?" Alfred said, leaning to get another look at the elderly man. The elderly man had a little American flag pin on his suit collar.

Heather shrugged. "Okay, it is what it looks like."

"Why are you–wait–what did you think it looked like to me?"

"Nothing," her voice got all high and seemed to cringe in pain for a brief moment.

"Heather."

"I didn't want you to think I was cheating on you."

"That never entered my mind. Look at him," Alfred said, gesturing to the elderly man.

Heather turned her head to look at the elderly man. Liquid was dripping from the leg of his soiled black pants. He was shaking in the chair, trying to talk through the cloth that covered his mouth. His mumbled words needed some major translating.

"Do you mind if I wrap this up? He is getting chatty again," Heather asked.

"You need to let him go."

"Just need five minutes. Then I will finish dinner and we can talk about this."

"No, I need some answers.”

"Give me two minutes."

Alfred put his hands on his hips. "This isn't a negotiation."

"One minute and we have sex after."

Alfred raised his eyebrows. His eyes stared into her, unwilling to relent to her tantalizing promises.

"Fine. You're right." Heather sighed. "You deserve to know why I tied this man up in our basement and was going to inject him with a truth serum."

"A truth serum?"

"Fuck. Why did I say that?" Heather said to herself.

"So is that what's behind your back?"

"Yes," Heather said, shaking her head in frustration. "Damn it!"

"Show me.”

Heather revealed the syringe that was stuck in her arm and half gone. She stared at it in horror, while Alfred laughed.

"Did you just stick yourself with your own truth serum?"

"Yes–I mean–yes. Argghh!" Heather said, unable to lie.

Alfred tucked the gun in his pants and rubbed his hands together. The smile on his face was even bigger than when he found out alfredo was on the menu.

"Okay, why are you interrogating him?"

"So I can take down the US government," Heather said before she could cover her mouth with her hands.

"Why on Earth would you do that?" Alfred asked.

Heather mumbled her answer, trying her best to not let go of her mouth. Alfred pried her hands away, releasing her truth to the world.

"So I can take over the planet and rule as the Goddess of Earth."

"Why would you want to do that? Sounds like a big hassle."

"I...actually...don't know why," Heather said, surprised by her own admission.

Alfred stepped up to her and took her hand. He removed the syringe from her arm and tossed it across the room. Brushing her hair aside, he gazed into her hazel eyes. His focus was singular and unfazed by her extreme plans.

"Heather. You don't need to be the ruler of the entire free world. To me, you are perfect the way you are now. The best wife a man could ever ask for. Ruler over my heart."

A tear ran from Heather's eye. "You really mean that?"

"I do. I wouldn't have married you if I thought any less of you."

"Even after this?" Heather sniffed.

Alfred looked over to the elderly man who was rocking his chair, trying to escape. He returned his gaze to her and winked. "I always knew you were a little weird."

"I am not," Heather said with a smile and a gentle push.

"Fine. Kidnapping a politician to gain world dominance is not weird–" Alfred said before his gurgling stomach interrupted him. "I'm starving. How about we eat?”

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. It will help this serum wear off."

"What are we going to do with him?" Alfred asked, motioning to the elderly man.

The elderly man crashed to the floor and smacked his head against the concrete below. He didn't move after that and Heather shrugged, "I'll make him a serum to forget the last 24 hours."

"You can make that?"

Heather nodded her head and sprinted for the stairs, hoping to outrun his next question.

"Did you ever use it on me?" Alfred called to her.

"Yes."

"Heather! When did–"

"If you finish that question, I'm throwing out the alfredo."

Alfred went up the stairs, but never finished the question. Her alfredo was way too good to pass up.

Government Conspiracy TV

"Alright, which one of you motherfuckers did it?" Carver said, barging through the doors of the conference room. Around the elongated oval table were several men and a woman. They all wore the same generic black business suits, but had different colored ties. Their heads turned away from the TV at the back concrete wall and gave Carver the attention he demanded.

"Did what?" Yamir asked. 

Carver ignored Yamir and inspected the others for any signs of guilt, pride, or anything in-between. His anger made him sharper, unlike most people, but as the seconds went by, it was clear they all were confused by his outburst.

"None of you know? Are you shitting me right now?"

"Carver, have you eaten anything today? You know how you get when you're hungry," Malory said in a motherly tone, almost unable to keep a straight face by the end. The guys all got a laugh out of it, since it wasn't the first time Carver had acted like a child. 

Carver gritted his teeth and marched up to the table. He took the remote and changed the channel. On the screen, it showed a man with short black hair wearing a business suit in the middle of a dark woods. He held a handgun to a dodo bird's head and said: "You're extinct now, motherclucker."

"He looks like you Carver, except much better looking," Dan said and elbowed another coworker. 

"That's because it is me. I was on that job last week. Eliminate the last remaining dodo bird. Do you not read the assignment board?"

"This is just a show." Yamir shrugged. "What's the big deal?"

"What is the big deal? Oh, I'll tell you. That is exactly how it went down. The location, the bird–"

"The stupid punchline?" Dan added, getting a few laughs. 

"Yes. Everything. Whoever is making this show is airing our operations. Does no one see a problem with that?" Carver pointed at the screen with the remote. "It even says reenactment on the bottom!"

"Calm down, Carver. Clearly the writers have a vivid imagination and happened to get some details right. It's nothing to worry about," Malory said.

The screen changed to the host of the show, who reminded them of the guy from Unsolved Mysteries. "These shadow agencies operate in the dark of night so the people do not see their deeds. Maybe they do it to protect us? Or maybe to cover up their crimes? For this next one, we follow a shadow operative who tries to take out her next target, a vampire."

Malory swiped the remote from Carver. "I don't think we need to see this…"

Malory struggled with changing the channel on the remote and Carver took it back from her. 

"You need to see this. It will prove I am not exaggerating," Carver said and turned up the volume. 

The next clip showed a woman with flawless brown hair and an equally flowing purple dress. She walked up a Victorian set of stairs at a party. Couples and other groups were drinking champagne and conversing with one another. The woman walked past a elderly couple who were discussing global politics to find her target. Count Bogdan. 

Count Bogdan had the classic features of the region. Thick black hair, tall and slender. His pale skin proved sunlight was not his friend. The woman approached him at the top of the balcony and leaned against the wooden banister. 

"Hey is that you Malory?" Dan jested. "You sure cleanup nice."

"That's not me. I–I don't wear dresses..." Malory said, letting her nerves leak through her tone. 

Back on the TV, the actors captured their attention once again. 

"Malory, so we meet again," Count Bogdan said and raised his glass. 

"I just wanted to come by and congratulate you on the fundraiser. And your speech was amazing."

"Why thank you, my dear. You are so kind." He took a sip of his drink. "If I had half your beauty though, I am sure we could have set some kind of fundraising record."

Malory tilted her head and closed the gap between them. She batted her eyes up at him, feeling lighter with every second. "You really think I'm beautiful?"

"Most definitely. You remind me of a full moon. Unmistakable and bold. Generously warming us with your glowing light."

She put her hand on his chest and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "How would you like to bask in something else?"

The men in the conference room jeered and hollered, forcing Malory to defend her reputation. 

"This is just a show. She doesn't even look anything like me," Malory said, clenching her jaw.

"But you were on the operation to kill that vampire, right?" Yamir asked.

"Yeah, I remember that case got sealed. How did it end?" Dan asked.

"I guess we'll have to find out." Carver crossed his arms, still watching the TV. 

Malory was starting to sweat now. The dialogue was verbatim, but she didn't want to admit it. Her reputation as one of the guys was fading fast. If she turned it off now, they would certainly be teasing her with kissy faces all month. If she didn't… well she was hoping the show didn't get the rest right.

"I would," Count Bogdan said, taking in her wonderful rosemary scent. "Shall we adjourn to my study?"

"Lead the way."

Count Bogdan led her to a room down a short hall. Inside, a lamp hung above, illuminating a wooden desk and a modest bookshelf. Two glasses and a bottle of scotch sat on the table along with a few loose papers. 

"Would you like some scotch?"

"Sure," Malory said and waited for him to turn his back. With him distracted, she reached down to her leg and removed a silver knife that was strapped to her. She lurked behind him, searching for the perfect spot to stab him. The point of the blade wavered inches from his torso.

"Would you like one or–" Count Bogdan said and turned around, only to have his words cut short from the blade being plunged into his gut. 

"You almost had me. I could feel your powers of seduction working, but you aren't as good as you think." Malory pulled the blade out, revealing blood. 

"I'm not a vampire." 

Those were Count Bogdan's last shocked words before he toppled on the floor and blood drained from the sleek hole in his body. 

The conference room was quiet and everyone turned to Malory who was frozen with shame. She wanted to run away. Hide where no one could see her failure, but it was not an option. Then, without warning, everyone except Carver broke into laughter.

"She can't tell the difference between magical powers and her own feelings? Ha, classic Malory," Dan said, shaking the guy next to him.

Malory was seconds from tears when Carver broke through the noise.

"Damn it!" Carver said and turned off the TV. "I guess I was wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"That's not how that mission went. I was there, right Malory?" Carver asked. 

Malroy knew he was lying. He wasn't assigned to her mission and it was dead on. Not a detail was out of place, but he was giving her an out. She was going to take it. 

"I told you. I don't wear dresses. And as for this Count, not even close to resembling the vampire I took out. The only thing they got right was a silver blade. Amateurs," Malory said.

"Boo! Way to waste our time, Carver," Dan said and walked to the doors. "I'm going to get some lunch, who wants sushi?" 

"Are you buying?" Yamir asked.

"The government is buying," he said holding up his government issued credit card. 

The rest of the guys all talked over each other and followed him out, leaving Carver and Malory to talk. 

"Thanks for covering for me," Malory said, offering a weak smile while she adjusted her pink tie.

"Anytime." Carver smiled and pulled out his suppressed Glock from his shoulder holster. "Now how about we go down to that studio and fix this PR problem?"

"Lead the way."

Monster Under the Bed

“But Mom! There’s a monster under my bed!” Timmy begged, hearing something scurry underneath.

“Yes, I know. You may play with him in the morning dear, but now it’s bedtime.”

Timmy shook under his blue covers. How was he supposed to sleep if there was a monster under his bed? Didn't she understand the whole concept of a monster? His mother got up from the side of his bed and walked to the door that was covered in light up stars. 

"Don't leave me, Mom!" Timmy said, curling up under his sheets so his feet were farther away from the edge of his bed. 

"Timmy, you will be fine. He doesn't bite humans," his mom said and clicked off the lights. "Have a good night."

"No! Mom!" Timmy said, but she closed the door without another word.

The only light left in the room was the glow of the stars on his door and on the ceiling. Normally they would calm him before he slept, but that was before he knew there was a monster under his bed. He had the urge to make a run for his light switch, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. All he could imagine was getting eaten the second he stepped foot off the bed. Looking around his dark room didn't ease any of his worries, since he could not see if something was lurking about. 

Suddenly, he heard a faint creak. It could have simply been the springs on his bed, but Timmy wasn't taking any chances. He plunged his head under the sheets and shut his eyes tight. His whimpers and cries were muffled by his sheets, but awoke the monster below all the same. 

The monster's footsteps were soft from the padded carpet, but were just loud enough for Timmy to hear. Something brushed against the bottom of his bed, going back and forth like a paint brush on a canvas. Timmy conjured the image of its tail grabbing him by the leg and ripping him out of the bed before devouring him. He began to shake, praying the monster would go away. All it did was jump up on the bed. With the grace of a cat, it landed all four paws on the bed, putting tension on his sheets. 

Timmy held his breath. He didn't want to smell whatever foul odor the monster had. The monster took cautious steps, climbing up on top of him. He felt the light touch of each paw as it stepped on him. Timmy's whole body froze. He was paralyzed by fear, while the monster kept crawling until it stopped at his head. Timmy waited for the moment when it would open its mouth and devour him, but it never came. Instead it… purred.

Timmy opened his eyes and continued to listen, thinking somehow his ears were deceiving him. They were not. The monster purred and walked down next to his head, pawing at his protective sheet. Timmy couldn't help but think somehow it was a mistake. After all, monsters don't purr. He unwrapped the sheet from his head and lifted it up enough to get a glance at what it was. The monster moved so fast, it was a blur, bounding inside to curl up with him. Its brown and white fur felt softer than the sheets that covered him. It crawled onto his chest and looked at him. 

Timmy gulped, realizing it wasn't actually a cat. At least not one he had ever seen. Its emerald eyes glowed bright enough for him to see it in the dark. The ears were more pointed, with hair that formed a Y coming off the tips. And the tail was thick at the end, completely black. The hairs at the tip of the tail moved independent of the rest, trying to feel its new environment while the tail waved. Otherwise, the face looked typical of a thin tabby cat, minus the whiskers.

The monster continued to purr and licked his bare chest. It was not a grippy tongue, but smooth like the back of a hand, leaving no saliva behind. The more Timmy watched it, the more relaxed his muscles became. Timmy uncurled his body and hesitantly reached his hand out to pet it. His hand hovered over the monster for a second, contemplating what could happen. The monster responded by gently wrapping its tail around his wrist and guiding his hand along its back. The hairs at the end of its tail rubbed against his smooth skin.

"Hey, that tickles." Timmy laughed. 

The monster continued to purr and rubbed its head against him. Timmy smiled, realizing his fears of this monster were overblown. 

"What are you?" 

The monster's ears perked up and vibrated. It turned its head away from him, listening for something out of sight. 

"What is–" Timmy began before being silenced by the monster's tail. 

Timmy lifted the covers and pulled the monster's tail out of his mouth. His mouth tasted tangy with a hint of metallic aftertaste. The monster's eyes flickered, flashing bright green at his black window curtain. Timmy tried to get up, but the monster slapped its tail on his chest without looking back at him. It didn't hurt, but he felt it actively resisted him. 

"There's nothing over there. It's a window."

The curtain moved. At first, he thought his little monster could move the curtain with its eyes, but then it blinked and the curtain moved in a different direction. Timmy tensed up, worrying what was over there, since he had his window closed. The monster snarled with the fierceness of a much larger cat, ready to defend its friend. Soon the creature that lurked behind the curtain revealed itself. 

It was all brown, wore an armored shell on its back and was the same size as his little monster. There were no eyes and two pincers where its head must have been. It had little feelers underneath as it transferred from the curtain to the wall. It was in all regards a giant bug. Timmy hugged his blanket and moved to the end of his bed. The giant bug creature made ticking sounds as it kept walking along the wall. It did not heed the monster's warnings and paid for it. 

The monster sprung off the bed and onto the wall above the giant bug. It stuck to the wall like a frog on a window and brought its tail down upon the giant bug. In one stroke, there was a crack and the giant bug bounced off the corner of the bed onto the floor. Without hesitation, the monster dove on top of the injured bug, digging into the underside of the creature. All Timmy heard was the monster tearing into the hostile bug and a few munching sounds. He was too afraid to look at what was happening and waited for the mauling to end. 

The monster jumped back up on the bed and licked its paws, proving to the boy the enemy had been vanquished… and tasty. Timmy dared take a look below at the floor and saw no evidence left of the giant bug, except for the indent in the carpet. He looked back at the monster that paused for a moment to burp.

"You saved me," Timmy said, still in shock of what happened. The monster stepped closer to him and petted his arm with its tail. Timmy smiled. He had never had a pet before and certainly none that ate scary oversized bugs. "What should I call you?"

The monster said nothing and crawled into his lap, purring the whole time. Timmy felt the heat radiating from the monster. He gave it a hug and rubbed his nose against its fur that smelt of cabbage.

"I'm going to name you, Cabbage. What do you think?"

The monster purred and licked his face in approval. He laughed and cradled Cabbage in his arms, bringing the blanket over both of them. Timmy intended on staying up to talk with his new friend, but his eyes got heavy as soon as his head hit the pillow. He yawned and Cabbage followed suit, petting Timmy's head with its tail. 

"Goodnight, Cabbage."

Cabbage poked Timmy's cheek with its tongue and with that they both drifted off to sleep. No longer was Timmy scared of what lurked under his bed. He had a new protector. Its name was Cabbage.

Elf Princess

“Oh, crap! I fold you I am a princess, right?” my girlfriend, Mitzy, asked and squeezed my arm.

I grabbed her pale little wrist. "You know normal couples save role play for the bedroom or Halloween, but I guess I'm down for it."

"I'm serious, Jason."

"That's Prince Jason to you!" I said, raising my hand. I didn't get to look at her expression since I was driving, but I'm sure she was smiling.

"Jason."

"Mitzy...oh I mean Princess Mitzy. Eh. Did I do good?" I asked in my best sophisticated accent.

Mitzy sighed and sat back in her seat. I thought I was being charming, but I guess she didn't see it that way. I wasn't given much time to think about her reaction as we had arrived at her parents place. The dirt road with forest all around us broke into a giant courtyard. The grass was cut like a putting green and the shrubbery was designed to look like giant green woodland creatures. I'm still a little miffed they snubbed squirrels from the line up, but nonetheless it was impressive to say the least.

I drove up to the giant mansion that was made of white marble. It towered over the grounds, much like a castle. I knew she said her family lived out in the country, but I didn't expect her parents to be so wealthy. I thought it was more of a live on the land or farm type situation, instead of being so filthy rich they live far away to keep the poors out. To greet us was a tall elf wearing a tailored suit. He even opened the door for Mitzy and everything.

"Princess Mitzy," the well dressed elf said, helping her out of the car.

"Reggie, how are you?" Mitzy said, giving him a hug.

"Better than ever. When we heard you were coming home, we were all ecstatic. Although the king is a little nervous about the man you are bringing home.”

"King?" I asked, hoping I misheard.

"Yes. King Wurlin..." Reggie said and turned to Mitzy. "Princess Mitzy. Did you not tell him you are royalty?"

"I told him on the way here," Mitzy said with a shy grin. I would have been annoyed, but that smile got me every time. That and her pointy ears perked up ever so slightly outside her luscious black hair. It's downright adorable.

Reggie smiled and shook his head. "What are we going to do with you?"

At the top of the stairs in front of the giant wood door stood another elf, wearing a long blue cape and a crown on top of his head. I may have been a simple human, but I knew a King when I saw one.

"Regeval, come bring them up," King Wurlin called to us.

We followed Reggie to the door where her father was waiting with a giant smile on his face. I was sweating the whole time and every step made my heart beat louder. My mind was overheating with questions. How do I address royalty? Was I supposed to wear something different than jeans and a shirt? Am I supposed to be royalty? That last one stuck with me. She was a princess and I was...a regular guy. Didn't royalty expect to marry other royalty? If they were anything like humans, I would assume so. I had been so deep in thought I didn't even realize we were already standing in front of the king.

"...and may I present Jason–"

"Prince," I said, interrupting Reggie.

Reggie gave me a quizzical look and Mitzy was straight up shocked. King Wurlin's face went from tempered to pure joy. His eyes lit up and he stepped forward.

"Prince Jason. Who would have thought my daughter would have found herself a member of another royal family. What line do you come from?"

I should have said nothing, but it was too late. He needed an answer, so I gave him one alright.

"Burger."

"I have never heard of them. You will have to tell me all about your family over dinner."

A different elf ran out from the door behind the King and whispered in his ear. King Wurlin nodded.

"If you would excuse me, I need to handle something. Mitzy, I'm sure you can show this fine man around our home," King Wurlin said and left inside without another word.

Reggie followed him and I was going to follow too, but Mitzy held me up.

"I didn't know you are royalty?" Mitzy asked, watching my face for any signs of deception. Sure I lied to her father, but there was no use lying to her.

"I panicked."

She put her hands on her hips. "Jason."

"What was I supposed to do?"

"Not tell him you are royalty."

"I can't backpedal from this now. You saw the look on his face," I said, doing my best impression of a little puppy dog pout. She wasn't the only one who can play that game.

Mitzy sighed, relenting to my adorableness. "I guess we are just going to have to pretend for now. What was your last name again?”

"Benton. Have I not told you my last name?"

She bonked me on the forehead with her palm. "The one you gave my father. The one I won't know."

"Oh. Heh heh. Burger."

"So your father would be King Allen Burger...wait...you didn't...you didn't name yourself after that restaurant?"

I shrugged. "I said I panicked."

"You're lucky we don't have a Burger King out here or you would be busted, Mister."

"So you're going to help me?"

She stared at me for a little bit. Most people would be holding their breath, waiting for a response that could go either way. Her stare brought that out in most people. I knew her well though. She was going to help me and was just thinking of a plausible way to do it.

"We have till dinner to get your details straight," Mitzy said, walking up the stairs.

"Does that mean I still get the tour?" I said, following her.

"Shorter tour. If you're going to convince my father your royalty, we have a lot of work to do.”

I went up alongside her and danced my fingers across her shoulders. Her eyes rolled back into her head and relaxed her muscles.

"Do I get a tour of anything else while I'm here?" I asked.

"Nope. I need all your blood in your head and not your other head."

"I'm confused, which one needs all the blood?"

She lowered her hand and flicked me right on the tip of my penis. I toppled to the floor, holding my groin in hopes that would somehow stop my suffering. Her fingers may have been dainty, but it felt like I got stung by a bee. So much for thinking my jeans would protect me.

"You still confused?"

"Nope." I barely squeaked out.

"Good. Now come on then. There is a lot to cover here."

***

Mitzy showed me around her family's entire mansion and it was quite the place. There was a room for everything and they were all pretty big. Fancy chandeliers hung in the larger rooms with vaulted roofs and the lower roof areas settled with candle light on walls. Everything seemed like something from the Victorian area, but I think anything that looks both fancy and old is Victorian. Once we had seen everything, she got to work on coaching me through being a member of royalty.

"How do you address the king?" Mitzy asked.

"Hello?”

"It's Your Majesty.”

"I keep forgetting that. Why is everything so formal and fancy?"

"Probably to keep commoners like you out," Mitzy teased.

"You know, that hurts. First the dick flick, now the personal attacks. I'm starting to think you don't like me," I said, giving her a flash of my winning smile.

"You're a tough prince. I think you can take it," she said, winking at me. "So how do you address my father?"

"Hello, sir."

"Your Majesty."

I face palmed myself. "Argh. I'll get it."

"You better, because dinner will be starting soon," Mitzy said, gesturing to the doorway. Reggie's steps echoed down the hall and into my ears before I saw him. He stopped at the doorway and readjusted his tie.

"The king requests your presence at the dinner table."

"We will be right there," Mitzy said and Reggie nodded before leaving us. She turned to me and grabbed my shoulders. "You will do fine. Besides the few things I taught you, just be yourself. He'll love you.”

"You think so?"

"Fifty fifty," she said and walked away.

"Hey! Hold up. Only fifty fifty? How can I boost that up?" Mitzy!" I followed her and she kept ignoring me. I knew she had a devious little grin on her face. She sure wanted me to sweat this one.

We got to the grand dining hall and it was lit up brighter than when I saw it during the tour. Three chandeliers hung from above and candles along the walls kept darkness at bay. A classic large oak table sat in the middle of the room with a fine red tablecloth across the middle. At the head of the table was King Wurlin and at his side was his queen. Mitzy had told me her name on more than one occasion, but it left my brain once we approached them.

"Please sit," King Wurlin said, gesturing to the two seats to his left.

I was going to sit on the far chair, but Mitzy guided me toward her father. Dang her and her graceful elvish feet. Once my butt hit the seat, her mother took it as a cue to say something.

"Mitzy, are you going to introduce me to your friend?" the queen asked.

"Mother, this is my boyfriend Jason–”

"Prince Jason," her father quickly corrected.

Mitzy gave her father the side eye before continuing. "...and Jason, this is my mother, Queen Marsawne."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Queen Marsawne said.

"The pleasure is all mine. And thank you again for inviting me,” I said.

"We are glad you could be here. Usually Mitzy never brings anyone with her to family dinners, so you must be special," King Wurlin said.

"Father!" Mitzy said. She blushed ever so slightly, but her embarrassment was my relief. At least for a moment.

"Oh, come on. It's not like you brought a commoner to dinner. This man is of great status."

I gulped so loud I thought it echoed in the room. Instead it was masked by the trays of food coming in from his servants. They presented each of us with a prepared plate of fish, along with strawberries and blackberries. My mouth savored just looking at it. If the fork was in my hand, I totally would have started digging in, if for nothing else to keep my mouth full so her father couldn't grill me with questions. They put the plates in front of us, but not the forks. One of the elves cut a piece of the fish and ate it off my plate. I wanted to punch him so bad, but then I remembered food testers were a thing.

"How does it taste?" King Wurlin asked.

"It tastes fine my…" the elf started before choking. His mouth was foaming and the other servants rushed him away. The servants that didn't help the choking elf swiftly took the plates away and ran off. I watched this all unfold and yet the only one distraught was Mitzy and I.

"Um...did he just…" I asked.

"He was poisoned. I had a feeling our former cook would poison the food, but I had to make sure,” King Wurlin said.

"What's going on? Are you in danger?" Mitzy asked in a high pitched voice.

"Not anymore. That cook disagreed with how your father has been running the kingdom and one of our servants told us she was planning on killing us. We didn't want to get too hasty, so we set a trap and she clearly took the bait," Queen Marsawne said.

"Is your servant going to be alright?" I asked.

"Yes. That is why I had to leave you two so suddenly after you arrived. Our plan needed to go in motion and I swapped the poison she was going to use. He will be sick for a few days, but will live," King Wurlin explained.

King Wurlin's words gave me some comfort that I wasn't almost poisoned by some nefarious elf. That didn't subside my gurgling belly though.

"I'm so sorry. We are terrible hosts. We don't have any food prepared," Queen Marsawne said.

That was when I had a great idea that would not only save my stomach from hunger, but also sell my royalty story.

"How about we have some of my father's fine cuisine?" I offered. Mitzy gave me a disapproving look, but she didn't know what I was planning.

"That is a wonderful idea! I would be honored to see what your family's servants make," King Wurlin said.

"If you would excuse me for a moment," I said. I got up and walked away from the table to get some privacy. I pulled out my phone and dialed the first number I saw.

"Burger King, how may I take your order? a voice said over the phone.

"Kennedy, it's me, Jason."

"Hey Jason. Aren't you supposed to be on your date right now?"

"I am. I'm at her parents' place, but we are in need of some food."

"Well you called the right place. What do you need?"

"I'll take the chicken fries. Mitzy will have the garden salad and the parents will have the veggie burger."

"Do you want any fries with that?"

"Yeah. And whatever you have for soda."

"Are you eating in or picking up?"

"That's the thing...I need you to drive it to me."

"This isn't a Dominos."

"I know."

"Then you know my answer."

I looked over my shoulder to make sure Mitzy's family wasn't listening in to my conversation. "You owe me, Kennedy. Come on."

All I could hear on the other end was beeps and meat being seared on the grill. He was thinking it over, but I knew it was still a big ask.

"Okay I'll do it."

"Yes!" I said, doing a little fist pump.

"But you will owe me one."

"Deal. It is at 500 Oakdale Drive, County Road 40."

"Woah, that's out of town. Not sure I will find it."

"Trust me, you can't miss it."

***

Thankfully, King Wurlin had to deal with another pressing matter, so all I had to do was be a good boyfriend and listen to Mitzy and her mother catch up. They asked me no questions and I liked it that way. By the time King Wurlin came back I was saved by my phone.

"I'm here. Dude, since when was your girlfriend rich?" Kennedy said.

"Hey that is another thing...you need to pretend to be my servant."

"Not cool man."

"It's not even hard. You work for my dad, King Burger."

I could hear his laughter as he made his way inside the mansion. "You can't be serious? I don't know if you're a genius or an insane person."

"Maybe both. I can hear you."

"And I can see you,” Kennedy said and ended the call. He walked to me holding four brown bags, wearing his black uniform. I took the bags from him and gave them to Mitzy.

"What's the damage?" I asked.

"Fifty bucks should be enough," Kennedy said with a maniacal grin.

I took out my wallet and paid him, but I wasn't able to avoid King Wurlin's questions.

"Why are you paying your servant?" King Wurlin asked.

"He is almost out of gas and he left my father's card at the castle. Got to make sure he gets back alright," I said and gave Kennedy the last of my cash.

"Thanks man. I'll see you later," Kennedy said, counting his extortion money.

He left and we all finally got to the poison-free meal we were all supposed to have. I pulled out a fry from my bag and ate it. The salty goodness tasted better than that fish would have anyways. King Wurlin and Queen Marsawne both pulled out their burgers and looked upon it with suspicion.

"Don't worry. I got you two the vegetarian option. No meat in it at all.”

Queen Marsawne sniffed it, shrugged, and then dug in. Her smile was all I needed to see to know my man hooked us up with the good stuff and not the bottom of the bag lettuce.

"This is quite good. Your cooks are quite talented."

"Why does it say Burger King, instead of King Burger?" King Wurlin asked, examining the bag.

"What you're eating now is called a burger. Named after my father. He liked the idea of being king of all burgers, so he just changed the order on all the packaging," I said, munching on another chicken fry.

"Are all your meals served like this?"

"Not all of them. Just when we eat out, like today."

"Your father must be quite successful. How have I never heard of him?"

"He runs in different circles. There are a lot of kings you don't know about," Mitzy said, coming in for the save.

"Well, I would sure like to thank him for the food.”

And as if he commanded it, my phone rang. I must have turned on my ringtone, which blared 'Your dad is calling on your cellular device.' I wanted to smash it, but King Wurlin looked at me with glee.

"Look at that. What splendid timing! Could you put him on speaker please?" King Wurlin asked.

Who was I to say no to my girlfriend's father, let alone the King of the Elves. I answered it and my dad started talking right away.

"Hey Buckroo, just calling to check in and...wait...you answered?" my dad said.

"Yep. Dad, you're on speakerphone. I'm with Mitzy's family right now."

"Excellent! Hello Mr. And Mrs. Carthrone."

"Hey Dad, I forgot to tell you. They are actually royalty. Like King and Queen."

"Wow! Well slap me sideways. I should've known. Your daughter is so well mannered, it makes sense."

"Thank you, King Burger, for your kind words, not to mention your delicious food," King Wurlin said.

"Food?"

"Oh yes, your burgers are delicious," Queen Marsawne said and took another bite.

"I never made any burgers. Jason, did you raid the kitchen?"

"Nope. I–”

"Hey Honey! Did you give Jason some burgers?" my dad shouted to my mom, who must have been in a different room than him.

"No I didn't. Are you interrupting his date?" my mom responded, albeit it was hard to hear on the phone.

"He answered the phone. Her parents are on speakerphone."

"I want to talk with them! I'll be right down."

I could hear her feet storm down the stairs at my parents place before she ran into the table their phone must have been on. It let out a scratching sound that was not too pleasing.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Carthrone! How are you doing this evening?" my mom asked.

"We are doing well,” Queen Marsawne responded.

"How is my boy behaving? Not getting too handsy with your daughter I hope."

I wanted to die at that moment. Mitzy's parents both looked at me and all I could do was smile. What else was I going to do? Tell them what else we do?

"No..." Queen Marsawne said, but was definitely thinking what else we could have gotten up to within their mansion. We did have plenty of time, but had to waste it getting prepared for tonight.

"That's good. Oh Jason honey, can you stop by the house today and take out the trash? Your dad pulled his back again."

"Don't you have your servant to do it?" King Wurlin asked.

"Servants? That's what my son is for. Although if you're offering I wouldn't say no."

"Okay Mom, food is getting cold. Love you. Bye," I said and hung up. My hope was they wouldn't connect the dots.

"So you aren't a prince?" King Wurlin asked, but he knew the answer. Way to go, Mom.

I sighed. "No. I'm not."

"What is this Mitzy? Bringing some commoner home and passing him off as your boyfriend. Are you trying to embarrass us?"

"He is my boyfriend!" Mitzy said, pushing her mostly finished plate away.

"But why a commoner? I could have seen if he was an elf, but...”

"What? He isn't good enough for me if he is just a simple man?"

"Yes. You deserve the best–"

"And he is the best. I have dated a lot of men and none of them come close to him. He is kind, thoughtful, and cares about me. All royal men ever care about is continuing their lineage."

"That–"

"I'm not done! Jason cared so much about making a good impression today he lied about being a royal so he could get your approval. He even paid for your meal today. If you ask me, if he is not the best, no one is.”

Her father's mouth was stuck ajar. Heck, so was mine. I knew Mitzy was a keeper, but how she went to bat for me with her parents made me want to marry her right then and there. She sat back down and faced me, taking my hand.

"Jason, I love you with all my heart. My parents may not accept you, but I do. There is no one I would rather spend the rest of my life with," she said and a single tear ran from her eye.

I wiped the tear from her eye and our eyes locked. She said more than she had to, but it gave me the courage to say what I should have a long time ago. I kicked my chair away and went on one knee.

"Mitzy Carthrone, you make me the happiest man on this planet. Your smile never fails to brighten my day. Your touch never fails to warm my heart. And your acts of kindness never fail to show me yours. Ever since I met you in that grocery story on aisle five, I knew you were special. Little did I know at that time, you were the woman I was always looking for,” I professed and pulled out a gold band from my back pocket. "Will you marry me?”

"Of course I will marry you," she said and kneeled down next to me. She ignored the ring and laid such a passionate kiss on me I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest. Her lips tasted like tomatoes, but that didn't bother me. She said yes and that was all that mattered. Mitzy broke away, trying to catch her breath.

"Ahem," King Wurlin said.

We both looked at him and he had a neutral expression on his face. I wasn't sure if he was upset or not, but it's not like I cared anymore. If he couldn't handle this, it was going to be on him.

"I would like to apologize...to both of you. I didn't realize your relationship was this far along…"

"I accept your apology...Pops,” I said.

"Don't call me that," he said, squinting at me.

"You like it though."

"I don't."

"Oh, he does. Deep down,” Queen Marsawne said with a smile.

"Mitzy gives that same look," I said and Queen Marsawne nodded in agreement.

"I do not," Mitzy protested, holding her hand to her chest.

"Oh that's right, I confuse it with that other look."

"What other look?"

I leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "How about I show you after dinner?"

A sinister smile stretched across her face. "Well I'm done with dinner. We are going to go upstairs and chat."

She took me by the hand and I wasn't one to argue.

"Have a goodnight, Your Majesties," I said and waved.

"Remember you are still a guest here. No funny business in my house," King Wurlin said and was swiftly answered with a whack in the back of the head from the Queen.

She dragged me away from the dining hall and we made our way to the stairs.

"I haven't shown you my room, have I?" Mitzy asked.

"You have not."

"I have one request though when we get up there."

"Anything."

"Can you do that thing you like to do with my ear?"

"I thought you didn't like that."

"No, not that thing, the other one."

"I knew you liked it when I nibbled on your ear!" I said, not realizing how loud I got.

"Shhh. Not so loud," she said, covering my mouth and looking around.

I brushed her hair away, revealing her pointy ear. "Sorry about that. Let me make it up to you."

I bit ever so gently on the top portion of her pointy ear. She shuttered and let out a gasp before guiding my head away.

"Not here.”

"You're right. Too many prying eyes. Lead the way, My Queen."

I took her hand and she led me to her room, where we proceeded to have a magical night together. Then nine months later, you popped out. And that is the story of how you were conceived. Now how do I shut off this recorder? click Damn, not that one. How about this?

***

The Cat Did It

A bushy haired man named Branson was sitting up on his faded couch that proudly wore the scars of a glorified scratching post. Sitting on the other side of his smoke glass end table were two detectives donning drab grey suits. Their badges were the only colorful part of their attire, perched on their belts next to the spare magazine. One of the detectives, who identified herself as Detective Fraser, was rifling through her bag to grab some photos. The other detective, Detective Peck, sat back in his seat and snuck a peek at his coworker's ass. Branson could see the interest, but he never thought a detective would be so unprofessional in his presence. Detective Peck looked back at Branson and winked at him, before sitting forward.

"Mr. Stairfield, we are here to ask you a few questions about your cat," Detective Fraser said, with a stack of photos and drawings in her hand. 

Branson cocked his head. "My cat?"

"Yes, sir. Recently we had a string of vandalisms and robberies where we have caught all the suspects."

"Okay…" Branson said, unsure where they were going with this.

"All of them had the same story. They told us a cat told them to do it."

"They sound crazy."

"We would agree, but they all gave us the same description of the cat," Detective Peck said.

Detective Fraser laid out a few of the photos and drawings, all depicting a black cat with red eyes and fur that stood on end. Branson took a brief glance at them before looking back at Detective Fraser. 

"Your neighbor said you have a black cat," Detective Fraser said. 

"Well, my neighbor is a liar! It shouldn't take a detective to know that. Who told you?"

"Alice Fletcher. Lives a few doors down," Detective Peck said. Both detectives sat at the end of their seats, surprised by Branson's hostility. 

"Alice Fletcher is a loon. And a little…" Branson trailed off, noticing the detectives were starting to take more interest in him. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I just get worked up when her name comes up. She is always trying to get me in trouble."

"We aren't accusing you of any crimes, Mr. Stairfield. We are simply looking for some cooperation in our case."

"I thought you said you arrested everyone?" 

"We did. The problem is we recently had a murder and the suspect in that case explicitly mentioned a black cat told him to do it," Detective Fraser said, pointing to a picture of the cat. 

Branson looked between the two faces of the detectives. He knew what they were implying and he wasn't having any of it. 

"Do you think I did it? Is that why you're here?" Branson said, standing to his feet.

"We are not saying that sir…"

"You think I dress up as a cat and go brainwash people into committing crimes? You want to see my closet? Come on. I'll show you. No cat suits in there!" Branson almost yelled at them. 

"Please calm down, Mr. Stairfield," Detective Peck said. 

Branson waved his hands around. "Calm down? Why?"

"We just want to see your cat," Detective Fraser said.

"I told you, I don't have one!"

"Then why is your couch all ripped up?" Detective Peck questioned.

"I bought it second hand! Even comes with a permanent cat piss smell. Want a sniff?" Branson said, lifting up the cushion.

"And the litterbox?" Detective Peck asked, pointing to the grey box with kitty litter next to his grungy door.

"Came with the couch. Haven't had time to throw it."

Detective Fraser collected her photos and put them back in her bag. She shoved it into Detective Peck before he could lose his temper. She pulled a card out from her suit pocket. 

"I can see we came at a bad time. If you do see a black cat, please give me a call," she said, placing the card on the table.

Branson watched them both with steely eyes as they left his apartment. The door closed shut and Branson picked up the card on the table. It had her name, badge number and contact information as well as the case number on the back. He walked over to the kitchen and turned on the stovetop, leaving the card on top. 

From behind, a black cat scurried out of an adjacent room and jumped up on the couch. The cat meowed and Branson turned to face the cat. 

"You really fucked up this time," Branson said. The cat responded with a meow. Branson moved over to the window and opened it, letting in the fresh outside air. He looked down at the sidewalk that was three floors below him. The undercover looking police crustier was parked near the curb.

"They are getting too close. You need to fix your mess," Branson said, turning to face the cat. The cat jumped off the couch, ran toward Branson and jumped up on the window sill. It looked back at Branson and meowed one last time to him before jumping to the next window sill.

"And none of that loose end bullshit again," Branson called out to the cat that had already sprung to the last set of window sills. The cat landed on a railing which surrounded some green shrubs along the exterior wall.

The two detectives walked out of the building side by side and the cat balanced on the railing near them. It meowed, getting the attention of Detective Peck. He looked right at the cat before he grabbed Detective Fraser's ass. She turned to him and slapped him across the face. The cat meowed again. There was a brief pause where the detectives were either going to tear each other apart or kiss. Unfortunately, it was the former. They both drew their service weapons, but Detective Fraser was not hindered by the bag. Three shots rang out as she shot her partner twice in the chest and once in the head.

People across the street screamed and a car that was driving by screeched its tires, leaving smoke in its wake. The woman looked over to the cat and it meowed one last time. Another shot rang out and Detective Fraser collapsed to the floor over her partner. The cat looked up at Branson, who watched the whole ordeal unfold from the comfort of his window. He looked over to the card that went ablaze. The stovetop coils were red hot and the card shriveled up into nothing more than ash. Branson gave the cat a nod.

"Look what you made me do, Alice. Look what you made me do."

In Seven Minutes

“In seven minutes you’ll either die or meet the love of your life. Good luck!” the voice over the intercom said.

Mike's stomach gurgled louder than the intercom and no one paid him any mind either. Kenneth was still yammering about Q3 sales being at an all time high and Kelly was so close to her phone screen, her nose did half of the typing. The rest of the people were focused on Kenneth's presentation, but Mike couldn't shake what he heard.

"Excuse me, did anyone hear what the intercom said?" Mike asked, raising his hand with caution.

All eyes shifted to him, except Kelly who was still determined to continue texting. His skin crawled and he sank down into his seat, hoping the soulless eyes of the company's investors would stop looking at him.

"I didn't hear anything except the sweet sound of us making lots of money," Kenneth said, sending the boardroom into an roar of laughter.

Mike gave a weak chuckle and his tension disappeared as everyone turned back to Kenneth. Mike knew what he heard and the fact that no one else did made him nervous. Did he question his sanity? No, not for a second. He questioned his ability to find the love of his life in seven minutes. If the last few years were any indication, he was doomed. Not to mention this presentation still had another thirty minutes left.

He contemplated leaving the meeting, but money was tight with his father's surgery. Mike needed this job. If he did die, at least the company would pay out the life insurance. Sure it went to his dog, Charles, but his good boy would gladly surrender the money. Charles probably liked his father more anyways. Before Mike's thoughts got too far away from him, the door slammed open.

"Everybody on the ground now!" a woman wearing worn brown tactical gear yelled. She shot a volley of bullets from her AK-47 across the room into the glass wall behind him.

Everyone complied, except Kelly who was still somehow entrenched in her phone. Mike put his hands up and the scary woman pointed her gun at him.

"Not you. Stand up," she said, gesturing to Mike.

Mike stood up slowly, not wanting to get shot by a trigger happy woman. "Please don't kill me. Take whatever you want."

"I'm not here for your money," the woman said, vaulting over the boardroom table. "I'm here to send a message."

"What–is–that?" Mike sputtered.

"That we will rise from our oppressor's!"

"Who is that? You can't possibly mean us."

Her brown eyes stared into Mike's, going nose to nose with him. She did not look away, poking the hot barrel into his stomach. Mike jumped back and swatted the rifle away from himself out of reflex.

"What's the matter? Can't handle a little heat? You should try actually working for your company. Gets hotter than that," she said with a venomous smile.

"Please don't hurt me." Mike begged.

"I won't hurt you...more than you hurt my people."

She raised her rifle and Mike closed his eyes, not wanting to see it happen. Instead of the bark of the rifle, he heard the sound glass shattering. Mike opened his eyes to see a person in all black tactical gear wrestling with the armed woman. The rifle went off a few times before the person in the black tactical gear ripped the rifle away from her and threw it out the shattered pane of glass. In seconds the insane woman was in handcuffs and knocked out with a swift punch to the head.

Mike looked at his hero in awe. It was just like the movies. The rest of the tactical team flooded into the room and took the insane woman away without much hassle. Only Mike's hero stayed, walking up to him.

"Are you okay?" Mike's hero asked.

Mike nodded his head, unable to speak. Not because of his new trauma, but because of who was staring back at him. A gorgeous woman. Removing her helmet to let her flawless brown hair lap over her shoulders, she smiled back with the warmth of a thousand suns. He had seen plenty of women like her in the movies, but never in person, let alone in a SWAT uniform.

"Are you sure you are alright?" Officer Kimbell asked.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Because there is a hole in your shirt."

Mike looked down upon his seared shirt and laughed. "That's what I get for shopping at the dollar store."

Officer Kimbell laughed and moved on to check on the rest of the people behind him. Mike was unable to look away from her as she passed him. He thought to himself, 'If she is the love of my life, I will die a happy man.' Mike went to lean on the pane of glass with one hand without looking away from her, when he realized too late it was not there anymore.

He fell out of the building and down twelve stories. The whole way down Mike kept thinking if it had been seven or eight minutes since that mysterious intercom message. Either way he was at the mercy of gravity and she was a cruel mistress. So kids, what do you think? Was he destined to die or just dumb as a brick?

Obsession

"I can't believe it." Billy scrolled through the never ending pictures of himself on his crush's phone. "She's...obsessed with me.”

"BS,” Devin said, trying to grab the phone away from him. 

Billy moved down a seat at the cafeteria table. "I'm serious."

"If you were so serious, why are you hiding the proof from me?”

"I don't want you wreaking her phone," Billy said, tapping on a picture of himself getting dressed in his room. He turned it toward Devin, careful to keep the phone out of his friend's reach. "See?”

"You never said you two hung out?"

"We never have."

Devin grabbed the apple off of Billy's lunch tray. "So how did she get a picture of you inside your own house?"

"Not sure, but does it matter? Clearly she is into me."

"Maybe a little too much into you, don't you think?" Devin said, crunching into his apple.

"Nonsense. She's just–"

"A stalker," Devin interrupted.

"She is not."

"I call it how I see it.”

"Well not for long. I'm asking her out," Billy said, placing the phone on the table.

"That's a really bad idea, but then again, so was stealing her phone. Maybe I'm wrong though and you two are meant to be with each other." Devin threw the half eaten apple at Billy. 

"You're just jealous Sandra doesn't give you the time of day," Billy said, putting the phone in his pocket and picking up the apple. 

"Sandra at least respects my privacy."

"She sure does. Gives you plenty of space."

"Rather have a woman not interested in me than...whatever that is," Devin said, gesturing to Billy's pocket.

Billy ignored him, taking his tray and walking to the other side of the cafeteria. The dull grey tiles squeaked under his shoe, yet drew no attention from the rest of the students eating and joking at the other tables. He was on a mission. To ask out Jeanie. Confidence was not in short supply as he marched up to her table. The two girls Jeanie was sitting with got up to dump their trays, leaving Billy the perfect opportunity to enact his plan.

"Hey there Jeanie."

"Hey Billy. How's it going?" Jeanie said, playing with her ponytail. 

"It's going well. Say, I think I found your phone,” Billy said, taking out the phone from his pocket.

"Oh my gosh! I have been looking everywhere for it. Thank you so much, Billy. You are such a great guy."

Billy handed her the phone. "Well I think you are a great gal."

Jeanie blushed and held her phone close to her chest, partially hiding the ACDC logo on her shirt. Billy leaned in closer, causing her to gaze into his hazel eyes. 

"I like your shirt. Maybe I could take you to see them sometime? Say this Saturday?" Billy asked in a soothing voice that he himself didn't know he possessed.

"I...I would like that Billy," Jeanie said, not breaking eye contact with him. 

"Great. I'll pick you up at eight," Billy said and walked away. 

Jeanie watched him walk away with the stride of a runway model. She bit her lip trying not to squeal out of excitement. Once he was out of sight, she quickly unlocked her phone and was greeted with an enlarged picture of Billy getting dressed. A maniacal grin stretched across her face. 

"Billy Kennedy McGuire. I got you right where I want you.”

Got To Get To Work

Donavan hung up the corded phone on the wall. "Do you mind if I make another call?"

The guard pushed off the wall he was leaning against. "No more calls. Back to your cell."

Donavan sighed. "I thought so."

Once the guard put his hands on Donavan, it was all over. In a flash, Donavan grabbed the phone and wrapped the cord around the guard's neck. He started clicking away at the buttons, while struggling with the guard. The phone rang, giving Donavan some time to restrain his new friend. He kicked out the guard's feet and pinned him against the wall. 

"Hello, who is this?" a voice asked from the phone.

Donavan pushed the phone to his ear. "Karen, please don't hang up!"

"You have some nerve calling me."

"I know. I know. But listen. I need a pickup."

"You have one. Use your own." 

"No. Like I need you to pick me up."

"Why should I do that?" Karen scoffed.

The guard beat his hands against the wall, making a slapping sound. Donavan could hear keys jingling outside the door.

"I will owe you one."

The line was quiet for a moment. Donavan was unsure if she was thinking or put him on hold. He was more focused on the men pounding on the door. 

"Well?" Donavan asked, unable to conceal his impatience.

"Fine. I need to get my coat and let Mr. Kellogg know where I'm going–"

"No time. Come quickly," Donavan said as the door opened with two guards funneling in. 

"Where are you this time?"

"Jail. The close one." Donavan said and hung up.

The guard wrapped in the phone cord was on the brink of unconsciousness. Two guards came at them with batons at the ready. Donavan dodged one of the swings while taking the other in the shoulder. Lightning shot through his whole arm, but he had no time to dwell on it. With his good hand, he slapped the phone off the hook and into the guard that hit him. That distraction gave Donavan enough time to kick the other guard still standing and make a break for the closing door. Hopping through the narrow opening, he left the guards in his wake. 

His next obstacle was the grey, unloving walls that flanked him as he ran down the hall. He kept his head on a swivel, trying to find a viable way out. At the end of the hall stood an older female officer with her taser drawn. Her uniform fit well, proving not all officers ate donuts all day. There was no running from this one.

"Donavan. Don't make this any harder on me," the officer shouted.

"I have to go to work. My boss will fire me if I'm not there."

The officer closed the distance. Her boots moved across the cement floor with a purpose, spewing authority for all to hear.

"Hands up! If you cooperate I might be able to smooth things over with the warden," the officer said, grabbing her handcuffs. 

"What about my boss?"

"Nothing I can do about that, kiddo."

Donavan looked above his head and saw an exposed ceiling with a wide pipe that lead somewhere. He had heard there was construction being done on the jail, but never figured he would get to see it. Looking back at the officer, he knew what he had to do.

"Don't you do it!" the officer ordered. 

Her order fell on deft ears. Donavan sprung off the walls and up onto the pipe. The officer aimed her taser, but Donavan was quick to hide his body behind the pipe. Not wasting time, Donavan crawled along the pipe into the darkness of the ceiling. He could not see, so he trusted the pipe to guide his way. The pipe led him up to the second floor, which at this point was the roof of the building. Scaffolding and various building supplies surrounded him on the top of the roof. He disembarked the pipe and ran to the edge of the roof. Below him was a faded red pickup truck pulling into the parking lot stall closest to him.

Donavan took a few steps back before running toward the edge. He leaped off the roof and bounced off the top of the hood. Donavan felt a crack in his back followed by a sudden shriek that dwarfed the sound of metal being pushed in by his weight. He crawled to his feet and entered the passenger's side of the vehicle, much to the shock of the woman in the truck.

"Donavan, what the hell was that!" Karen said.

"Drive please."

"You said you needed to be picked up. Not a getaway driver."

Donavan buckled his seatbelt. "Please, let's go."

The alarms outside sounded and Karen peeled out of there. They traveled down a few winding streets until they arrived at their destination, Hardford General. The four story building was an eyesore. Concrete walls painted to look like natural wood. After years of weathering, it looked more like smeared diarrhea.

Karen threw the vehicle into park, causing both of them to lurch forward. "Are you going to tell me why you got arrested?"

"Nope," he said, pulling on the handle.

Donavan pushed against the door, but it would not budge. He pulled the silver rod to unlock the door, but it went back down again with a clunk. Donavan looked over to see Karen holding down the lock button.

"I'm not letting you leave until you tell me," Karen said.

"I'm not good at following 'lawful' orders. Is that enough for you?" Donavan said, rolling down the window.

"No, it's not. You need to tell me what happened."

Donavan didn't wait to hear her reply, crawling out the window of her truck. He slapped the ground with his hands and feet before taking off like a sprinter into the building. Karen shook her head.

"This better be a good favor," Karen said.

Donavan kicked in the door to the third floor conference room where Mr. Kellogg was moments from smashing his laptop into the conference room table. The charging cable was still plugged in, running above his head, where he froze in place. 

"Donavan? Thank God you're here! Where have you been?" Mr. Kellogg asked, lowering his laptop.

"I was–”

"Doesn't matter. Maybe I can still salvage this. How do I login to this conference call?" Mr. Kellogg said, opening his laptop. 

Donavan walked around the table and instructed him how to login. It was as simple as clicking the link, entering his name, and clicking connect. Mr. Kellogg gave a toothy smile at his screen, hearing people on the other end.

"Do you have the presentation?" Mr. Kellogg asked, covering his webcam.

"It is in your email."

"Pull it up for me," Mr. Kellogg said, pushing the laptop toward him. 

Donavan clicked through Mr. Kellogg's email until he found it in the deleted folder. He pulled up the presentation and minimized it so Mr. Kellogg could still see the people on the screen. 

"You're good to go." Donavan slid the laptop back to him. 

"Good job, Donavan. We might just save this company yet."

"What did you say Mr. Kellogg?" a voice said from the laptop.

"Nothing, Mr. Terrance. I was just speaking to my best employee, Donavan Santelli. He worked so hard on this proposal. I think you will like it,” Mr. Kellogg said, giving Donavan a thumbs up. 

Donavan breathed an air of relief that his boss's anger was gone. It was also the first time his boss gave him a compliment. After all these years working for him, his luck was starting to turn around. That was until the door opened again. Standing in the doorway was Karen and the female officer. 

"One moment,” Mr. Kellogg said, putting his hand over the webcam again. "Can I help you, officer?"

"No. I'm here for Donavan Santelli. Put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest," the officer said. 

"Really? At my place of work?" Donavan said.

"You left me no choice. Hands behind your back," the officer said. 

Donavan obeyed her commands and she slapped the cuffs on him. He looked at his boss who was shaking his head at him. His future at the company went from one of promise to one of poverty.

"What is going on? Is someone being arrested?" the same voice asked from the laptop.

"Oh no. Just people playing a video outside the room." Mr. Kellogg responded. "Karen, can you close the door."

The officer led him out of the room, while Karen closed the door behind them.

"Don't worry, I will talk with Mr. Kellogg," Karen said.

"Thanks Karen. I appreciate it,” Donavan said.

"Keep moving," the officer ordered.

Donavan was led out of the building and to the officer's squad car. She opened the backdoor. "Watch your head."

"Screw you, Malory!" Donavan said. 

The officer slammed his head into the top of the doorframe and pushed his body inside. She leaned over him, close enough to smell the syrup on her breath. 

"You will not disrespect me again. You call me Officer Santelli when I'm on duty. You understand?"

Donavan winced in pain. "Yeah I got it. God Mom!"

"You're lucky I was the one who arrested you."

"Why? So you can have the privilege of putting us both in jail? Maybe we can share the same cell."

"You are not your father!"

"From where I'm sitting, I might as well be,” Donavan said.

"When we get back to the jail, you don't say anything. You have no idea what kind of favors I had to pull to let your last stunt go unnoticed."

"And the charge against me?"

"Defense attorney's love when an officer screws up her paperwork. You'll be fine assuming you don't do anything stupid."

The officer closed the door and walked around to the driver's side door. She held the handle and took a deep breath. "The things I do for my kids."

Too Much Power

Matthew stood at the altar of his problems. Before him two women were torn to shreds, blood splattered everywhere in his hotel room. The carpet was crimson and the walls were like abstract paintings if they only used different shades of red. This was the consequence of making anyone he pointed to fall in love with him. At first it was fun. He could get any woman he wanted. A model. Actress. His crush from college. No one or thing was off limits, free to live out his own fantasies with whomever he chose. That was until his lovers all caught up with him.

He was out one night at a celebrity ball with a beautiful model he met at a hotel, when he ran into Hannah Soreno, a famous actress he was with only a few weeks ago.

“Matty, who is this?” Hannah asked.

“Oh hi, Hannah. This is–” Matthew said.

“Patricia. His girlfriend,” Patricia interrupted, extending her hand.

“Um Matty. Why are you with this skank?” Hannah asked Matthew.

“Who are you calling skank, you whore!” Patricia said.

“Matty. Come on. This woman can’t possibly be worth your time,” Hannah said, pulling him away from Patricia.

“Matthew can be with whoever he wants to.” Patricia pushed Hannah.

That was all it took and a brawl ensued. Extensions were flying in the air as the two wrestled on the floor. Matthew stood there unsure what to do while another woman in a silk black dress grabbed him by the arm, taking him away from the fight. She dragged him over to the food table and spun him toward her. It was his crush from college, Gretchen.

“Gretchen? What are you doing here?”

“Saving you from those crazy women. Obviously.”

“Well thanks. I appreciate it. I didn’t realize you were going to be here.”

“A little birdy told me you would be here,” she said, shaking her pink phone at him.

“I didn’t tweet it out.”

“No silly. I track your phone.”

“Um…”

“Let’s get out of here. I know a place much more...comfortable,” Grechen said, running her finger down his tie.

“Um…what about those two?” Matthew asked, pointing to the women still locked in combat.

“They will never love you like I can. Come on. I’ll show you,” she said, taking his hand again and whisking him away.

They left the ball and stopped at the top of the stairs of the exit. At the base of the stairs was a wall of women, all of whom Matthew had used his power on at some point. One of the women stepped forward into the light.

“Unhand our man!” Maddie said, pointing at Gretchen.

“He is not your man!” Gretchen said.

“We’ll see about that. Charge!” Maddie said, pointing at her.

The rest of the women ran up the stairs toward them. Gretchen pulled Matthew back into the party. They pushed through the crowd of people, passing Hannah who was bashing Patricia’s skull in with a serving platter. This was all a lot for Matthew to process, but he kept up with Gretchen, who was at least trying to get him out of this ever escalating situation. They got past the crowd and went into the adjoining hotel. She pulled him toward the front desk, when Matthew grabbed her wrist and pulled the opposite way.

“I have a place upstairs. We can hide there,” Matthew said, pulling her along.

They went down a hall and up the stairwell to the fifth floor. The echoes of the rabid women still followed them up the stairwell. They got to the top and went three doors down to room 508. He swiped his key card rapidly in front of the sensor. It kept beeping and a red dot appeared above the knob.

“Hurry,” Gretchen said.

He kept doing it until it beeped and the color changed to green. He pushed the door open and closed the door behind Gretchen. Matthew backed into the untouched room while Gretchen kept her ear to the door. The women gathered outside in the hall, all upset that they lost him.

“I can’t believe you lost him,” one of the women said.

“Me? I beat you up here and I am in heels. What’s your excuse?” another woman responded.

“Ladies. Ladies. We didn’t lose him. He is obviously hiding. Playing hard to get was always his style,” Maddie said and the rest of the women nodded in agreement. Maddie pulled out a handful of key cards from her purse.

“Everyone take one and split up. Whoever gets him is worthy of his love.”

Most of the women grabbed their card and went back into the stairwell to go searching at the other levels. Only Maddie and Sandra stayed on the fifth floor.

“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t?” Sandra offered.

“It’s a deal.”

They both went to the doors on each side of the hall and went inside. When they were done searching they called each room clear and went to the next.

“They will be here any second. Quick, look sexy on the bed,” Gretchen said, pushing him on the king-sized bed.

“What?”

“I’m going to hide in the closet. You distract them with your hunkiness and I will take them out from behind.”

“Wait? Distract them. Hunkiness?” Matthew asked.

Gretchen closed the closet just as the door beeped. Maddie opened the door and saw Matthew sitting on the bed.

“He’s in here,” Maddie called out to Sandra from the entrance.

They both came inside the room and closed the door. Sandra peeked her head in the dark bathroom while Maddie went up to the closet.

“Maddie. I thought you were here for me. Not my empty closet,” Matthew said, trying to play it cool.

She stopped short of opening it and ran her fingernails across it instead. “You sure are right, baby.”

Sandra came out from the bathroom and waved with her fingers at him. They both approached him from two sides, licking their ruby red lips. In a normal situation he would be thrilled, but this was getting out of hand.

“So Matthew, who do you choose? Me or Sandra?” Maddie asked.

“He chooses me, you whores!” Gretchen said, jumping out of the closet with a knife in each of her hands. She dispatched them so fast Matthew blinked and almost missed it. What he would have given to blink slower. When she was done, she bounded to the door, blood dripping from her blades.

“I’m not done yet. Not till they are all gone and you are safe. Stay put. I’ll be back.” Gretchen blew him a kiss as she left.

His head was spinning. He had two dead women in his hotel room and there were sure to be more bodies by the end of the night. All because he wanted what he was never supposed to have. Love was supposed to be developed, nurtured. Not conjured out of thin air. What he had to do next took a lot of willpower, but he knew there was no other way. He went into the bathroom and found his night pack. Inside, he pulled out an extra shaver blade and lined it up with his pointer finger on the tabletop next to the sink.

“Come on Matthew. The Yakuza can do it. So can you,” he said to himself.

He took a few rapid short breaths and slammed the blade with his palm into his pointer finger, searing it clean off. He screamed in pain and fell back onto the floor as blood leaked out the end. The blade slid on the floor next to him, but he did not have the will to do his other finger. The door beeped and Gretchen came back inside, covered head to toe in her victim’s blood.

“Matthew! What happened!” she said, falling to her knees next to him. She held his hand in hers, trying to comfort him.

“I tried to cut it off.”

“Why?”

“I was the cause of all this. This finger is the reason I have an army of women after me,” Matthew said, trying to pick up his finger.

“What are you talking about? The blood loss must be getting to you.”

“No. I have this power. The power to make anyone fall in love with me by just pointing at them.”

“Yep. You must be going into shock. I’ll get you a towel.”

“I’m serious. Your feelings you have for me aren’t real. I used my power on you. Think about it. Did you ever have feelings for me before we got together?”

“Yes.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes I did. Ever since I saw you in that psychology class. Third row with that dorky backpack. What a nerd you were. My whole notebook for that class is just pictures of you with your name written all over it.”

“But–”

“I was always hoping you were going to ask me out, but my friends all told me to play hard to get. Hell, even my counselor told me not to date anyone. That I need to work on myself. Take my medicine. Blah blah blah.”

“So...my powers...didn’t work.”

“Nope. And nothing in this world is going to take me away from you. Not even those psycho bitches.”

She hugged him tight and he stared ahead. It was more terrifying than he had thought. This woman wasn’t crazy because of him. She was crazy all by herself.

***

What a Date!

Quiet conversations blended together with the soothing sound of the piano that played in the middle of the dimly lit room. A waiter weaved between the tables in his darker than black suit and bow tie, arriving at a table of two who were lost in each other’s eyes.

“Lobster Thermidor and Lamb Shank,” the waiter said, placing their meals in front of them.

“Thank you. If it isn’t too much trouble, can we get another glass of wine for the lady?” the man asked the waiter.

“Certainly Sir,” the waiter said and left them.

The woman took her napkin and placed it over her lap, to protect her scarlet dress. “Kenneth, if I didn’t know any better you are trying to get me drunk?”

“Of course not. I saw that your glass is getting low and the lobster is best with something red.”

The woman swirled the wine in her glass and downed it in one fast shot, staring straight into his brown eyes after, which dilated for a split second.

“You didn’t expect me to do that, did you?” she said, brushing her light brown hair away from her ear, revealing a dangling diamond earring.

“You are full of surprises, Gwen.”

“You have no idea.”

They had just begun to take their first bites, before three masked men with guns started slinking in from the far side of the room. Silverware clattered against plates and a woman screamed upon seeing the armed men. The music stopped and before people could scatter a gunshot went off.

“Everybody stay where you are! If you run, you die!” one of the masked men said.

The other two weaved around the tables, clearly looking for someone in particular. Kenneth drew his Walther PPK from his jacket while Gwen drew her Glock from her purse when the two masked men got close. The two masked men pointed their guns at them, surprised that two civilians would be armed at such a fancy place.

“Drop your weapons. I would hate to ruin a perfectly good date on the count of you two,” Kenneth said.

“He said drop them, scumbags!” Gwen said, standing up and toward the armed men with purpose.

Kenneth did a double take, realizing she was armed. “Gwen, you have a gun?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing?”

“I live a dangerous life. Fine art collections can get a little...complicated, but you? Do you even work for the State Department?”

“I thought it was obvious. Every spy who ever lived says they work for the State Department. Haven’t you watched a movie?” Gwen responded.

“I figured that was only in the movies. And that spies in real life wouldn’t be so drop dead gorgeous,” Kenneth said, a little frantic.

Before Gwen could fawn over Kenneth’s charming words, a gunshot went off behind them along with more feminine screams. Kenneth and Gwen turned their heads around to see the third mask man standing next to a large bald man who was slumped over the table, blood seeping into the white tablecloth.

“He’s dead. Let’s go!” the masked man said, taking a picture with his phone to confirm the kill.

By the time Kenneth and Gwen turned their heads back to their more immediate threat, two more gunshots went off. They both fell to the floor, holding their stomachs’. The three masked men ran off, leaving Kenneth and Gwen on the floor, laying on their side facing each other.

“I...didn’t expect the date to end like this,” Kenneth said, coughing up blood.

“Me neither,” Gwen said, straining from the pain.

“If we get out of this...I would like...to see you again.”

“Me too.”

Kenneth slid his hand across the floor, smearing blood in the carpet. She grabbed onto his hand with a weak grip. A crowd of people surrounded them while someone dialed 911. The waiter kneeled beside them to render aid.

“I see we have a couple of heroes. I hope you two learned your lesson,” the waiter said, putting pressure on Kenneth’s wound.

“What was that supposed to be?” Kenneth asked, straining from the pain.

“Don’t be a hero? I thought it was obvious.”

Mystical VHS

Glass rained from the sky, while men in tactical gear descended upon me like black angels of death. There was nothing I could do in the dark complex filled with giant silver vats. My team had abandoned me and so too had my rivals. As I floated in a glowing vat of smooth, pure white yogurt sprinkled with orangutan piss and bad choices, I dwelled upon everything that led up to this moment. It all started with a job. A simple job in fact. Should have been in and out in ten minutes, but naturally with any heist, there were variables beyond my control. And what was it over...a goddamn VHS tape.

It all started last week when word on the street got out about my very steamy love making with Sharlet Everdeen. I would normally think an ex would spread this to the world, trying to get back at me, but Sharlet and I hadn’t been together for over three years. Reason being, she died trying to base jump with nothing more than her blanket. She was dumb, but I didn’t stop her because she had succeed before. I don’t pretend to understand the physics behind it and I didn’t want to be the man who held her back. She respected me for that and I for her fearlessness. Anyways, I am getting off track.

This was an issue because we never discussed our sex life to anyone, yet here it was out in the open like I was the main character in some episode of Sex and The City. I had my people ask around where this came from and they said people watched it. And not just that, but my whole life. When I was born, my awkward teenage years, stuff I did with vegetables for...experiments. Private stuff that no one could have known about me. And it didn’t stop there. There was footage of stuff that had yet to happen. Like when earlier in the week I went to get a taco at El Toro Tacos. This footage was on a VHS tape that apparently a lot of people had already seen. And rumor had it they even saw how I died.

Needless to say, I had to get a hold of this tape. This was way too personal and if my enemies got a hold of it, they would use it against me. Luckily, my team was able to track down the VHS to Little Gambino’s Video Store on 5th and Grand. The bad news was the owner hated my guts. Probably why, once he attained this tape, he had private screenings of it everyday. It never left his store. If people asked about it, he had it cued up in the backroom somewhere. I exhausted all my resources and connections to get a shot at this tape, so it left me no choice. I needed to steal it. My right hand man, Rico, got the layout of the building. Three rows of movie shelves ran in the middle and behind the counter, at the end, was a private viewing area concealed by a red velvet curtain. What was behind that was a mystery at the time since it was always dark.

To help with this unknown, I had Selena. She was our muscle. Toned, but not bulky. What she lacked in weight and sheer strength, she made up in height. The rest of the guys called her Stretch because she was all legs. And I mean all legs. There is a point where long legs stop being an attractive trait and start being a concern. She definitely hit that point years ago. It was like attaching a baby's torso to those stilt legs people walk around with at carnivals. One kick from her though and you wouldn’t be eating solid food for a month. Rounding out my small infiltration team was Barkins. She was a dog. A grey pitbull to be exact. I called her Barkins because she never barked. It was ironic. I could have brought any number of my other guys, but these three I knew I could trust not to say anything if the VHS was playing when we got inside.

Once night fell we made our way inside. Selena kicked the door in and Rico worked his magic on the alarm system. It left me and Barkins to make a beeline for the backroom. There were no lights on the inside, but that didn’t matter since the shelves basically guided us to the back counter. I leaped over the top with Barkins and through the red veil to find...an empty room. Nothing was in the back. No projector, seats, anything. Four white walls and a single light shone above. Rico and Selena joined me in my utter disappointment.

“What gives?” Rico said.

“Why is there just an empty room?” Selena said.

“Maybe there is a secret door?”

“Or maybe he moved it out? Someone might have snitched,” Rico said, looking up at Selena.

“Bite me, Rico.”

Barkins was never good with commands and drove her fangs into Selena’s legs like she was eating a giant dog bone. Selena screamed and tried to kick Barkins off her, but Barkins clung to her.

“Get her off!” Selena said.

She did a roundhouse kick, trying to release the dog, but instead she landed her blow on me, launching me through the pathetic excuse for a wall and down two stories into a vat of white cream. When I landed in this vat, I thought I died. Above me was a tall ceiling, unlike the building I was in and I was swimming in the best yogurt I had ever tasted.

“Are you okay?” Rico yelled from above.

“Yes. Get me out of here.”

It wasn’t long until my vat of happiness soured. On the catwalk next to me was an orangutan wearing a red bandana and dragging a sign behind him. It wasn’t any orangutan. It was Kevin’s orangutan. Kevin was my rival. He always tried to move in on my territory and this time he had me where he wanted me. The orangutan held up the sign, ‘I know you like some flavor in your yogurt, I hope you like this one.’

By the time I read the sign, I noticed the stream of piss pattering in front of me. I tried to stop the orangutan, but he had the high ground and the yogurt acted like quicksand against my attempts to move. My team was still in the room above me laughing at my pain.

“Are you going to get down here and help?” I yelled up to them.

“Selena needs to go to the hospital. Dog bites are no joke. We’ll be back after that,” Rico said.

“Are you shitting me right now?”

“No, but that monkey might,” Selena said, laughing before the pain stopped her.

“We’ll be back. Don’t worry,” Rico said and they all left me. Even Barkins. That little bitch.

Then the rest is history. The orangutan runs off once the tactical men fall from the sky and I am just waiting for one of them to save me from this once delicious hell. I still don’t know what was on that tape, but I do know one thing. With friends like mine, who needed enemies.

The Warlord Provider

The sun was high in the sky and white cloud floated above, smiling down upon the land. The land, however, did not smile back. Dust and blood was all that laid on the barren land. My people were almost done loading the bodies into the trucks while I lit another cigar with a magnifying glass. It was one of my many talents, alongside organizing military strikes and earning the trust of my soldiers. I let out a little puff of smoke, reminding me of my daughter’s favorite animal, a dragon.

She was the reason I even bothered to kill people in the first place. Ever since her mother died, it had been difficult to get her to eat anything. She was growing weary and everywhere I went, I failed to find a chef able or willing to feed my daughter. A month ago I thought I was close. She would eat most of the meals Boris would make for her, but he had to go and sleep with my new girlfriend. If a man is that dumb, he could never last in my company.

I walked across the deserted land to a single clay home. No bullet holes pierced the dwelling, nor did anyone try to even run to it during the battle. I entered the dwelling and found a young man no older than seventeen. He wore nothing but brown shorts, but was more nourished than the rest I had slaughtered. The man was hunched over a kettle, breathing in the delicious fumes.

“What are you doing?” I asked the young man.

“I am cooking. Would you consider sparing my life, if I share my meal?”

I walked halfway out of the small dwelling and waved at one of my soldiers. He came at once, bringing my daughter with him. The braids in her hair were almost thicker than her arms, and hardly a shade darker than her skin. Watching her come toward me brought both great happiness and pain. If she did not eat soon I knew I would lose her. The last real thing I had in this world.

“Leave us,” I told my soldier and took my daughter’s bony hand.

Together we went inside and the young man was scooping small golden tubes out of the kettle. They stuck together like the conjugated blood of my enemies, filling the bowl. He put a wood spoon in the bowl and handed it to me.

“Alright sweetie, try this,” I said, crouching down to her.

My daughter took a sniff of the golden food and grabbed the spoon. She ate a spoonful and her face lit up like I hadn’t seen since her mother was around.

“Yum! This is tasty!”

I couldn’t have been more thrilled. A food she finally liked. I had to know the secret.

“Young man, what is this and how do you make it?”

“It’s Mac and Cheese. You just add noodles and melted cheese.”

“Could you repeat this every time if you had those ingredients?”

“From scratch? No. I follow the instructions on the box,” he said, holding up a blue box that said Kraft on it.

“Who is Kraft? Where can I find him?”

“You can find it in town, a few miles north of here. You can even keep my last box. Just follow the instructions and it will taste the same every time,” he said, giving me his last box. His words were music to my ears.

No more professional chefs. I read the words on the box and it was clear to understand. Bring water to boil, add the contents from the box, stir. Even my soldiers could make food for her, it was that simple. All I needed was a kettle and something to heat it with. I looked at the box in my hand like my soldiers looked at gold. For me, this was more than gold. It was the key to my daughter’s future. I smiled at her while she gobbled up the rest of her food. Everything was gone, down to the last noodle. I knew my quest was not over and that my daughter would be hungry again, but I finally had hope in my grasp and I wasn’t going to let it go without a fight.

Santa Claus in April

“Honey, get the bat,” Eve whispered, shaking her husband awake in their bed.

“Huh, what’s going on.” Jake rubbed his eyes.

“There is someone downstairs.”

Jake threw the blanket off and rolled out of bed. He grabbed the Louisville Slugger that was leaning against the window sill and left the room. Jake peeked downstairs to see a red butt sticking out his fireplace, legs trying to push his fat body up. Jake ran down the stairs and wound up. With a golf swing, he smashed the stuck man right in-between the legs.

“Ho. Ho. Oh,” the stuck man groaned and slid out of the fireplace. He held his groin and rolled around in pain. The man was dressed like Santa Claus, except his white beard was black from the soot in the chimney.

“If you don't want to get hit again, I suggest you start talking,” Jake said.

“Jake, please. Don’t hit me again!”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’m Santa Claus. I know everyone.”

“Sure you are. And I’m the Easter Bunny,” Jake said, winding up again.

“No Jake! I gave you a red bike on your tenth birthday. Schwinn with little black tassels on the handlebars.”

Jake lowered his bat a little. “How did you know that?”

“I’m Santa Claus. How many times do I have to say it?”

Jake stood there, with his bat still at the ready.

“What’s going on down there?” Eve called from the bedroom.

“This guy claims to be Santa Claus.”

Fast footsteps came rushing from the room. Eve turned on the lights and looked downstairs. Santa Claus was on the ground still holding his groin.

“Uncle Greg!” Eve said and flew down the stairs.

“Uncle Greg?” Jake said to himself.

Eve jumped on Santa Claus and gave him a big hug. Her blue bunny pajamas clashed with his red suit. Jake lowered his bat and scratched his head.

“Um...Eve. Who is Greg?” Jake asked.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. Uncle Greg is Santa Claus,” she said.

“I didn’t know you and Jake were together,” Santa Claus said to Eve.

“If you would come to our family get-togethers you would have known. Don’t you get mail at the North Pole?” Eve said.

“Yes, but it is really only relevant to kids. Names, naughty and nice lists, work stuff. I’m going to have to have a chat with my head elf about my missing mail again.”

“Why are you here now? It’s the middle of April.”

“I was looking to find a place to crash for the next few months.”

“Why? What happened?”

“There was a fire at my place and the elves won’t let me stay in the production facility. I tried to reach out to my wife, but we are not on speaking terms right now.”

Eve crossed her arms. “What happened?”

“It was an honest mistake. I thought I was home. There was snow everywhere when I came flying in.”

“What did you do?”

“The lights were out and the door was unlocked. I walked in and went up the stairs to go to bed. Once I crawled under the covers it went from sleepy time to sexy time. I didn’t know she wasn’t my wife until she said something.”

“You didn’t notice it was a different house?”

“All houses seem the same to me after awhile. And your aunt hasn’t touched me in so long I forgot what she felt like.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I believe it,” Jake said.

“Don’t you go defending him!” Eve said to Jake.

“Eve, give your uncle a break. He is Santa Claus.”

“More like Pervy Claus.”

“I’m sorry I came. I’ll just be going now,” Santa Claus said, sitting up.

“No, you're not. You are welcome to stay here while your house is being repaired,” Jake said.

Eve’s eyes got so big they almost jumped out of her skull. “Jake–”

“Can you excuse us for a minute?” Jake said to Santa Claus, cutting Eve off and pulling her aside.

“He is not staying here,” Eve whispered furiously.

“He is family.”

“But he cheated on Aunt Margaret.”

“And he is still paying for that mistake. Besides, his story sounds plausible.”

“So you just want me to forgive him? Forget he cheated on my aunt?”

“Yeah. Sure it's not ‘tis the season’, but your uncle is reaching out for help. How would you feel if you needed help and your own family wouldn’t help you out?”

Eve glared at Jake, her arms tense at her side and hands balled into a fist that could crush tin cans. It lasted a few seconds before she let go of her anger.

“Fine. I’ll try. But don’t expect me to forget about what he did.”

Jake kissed her on the forehead. “That’s the wonderful gal I know.”

She smiled, taking comfort in the fact that her husband was nothing like the cheater that was standing in her living room. They both turned back to Santa Claus to give him their verdict.

“Alright you can stay. But you will have to sleep on the couch,” Eve said.

“Thank you! Thank you! I promise to get your kids extra nice gifts.”

“We don’t have any kids,” Jake said.

“Not yet,” Santa Claus said, winking at Eve.

Jake turned to Eve. “What is he talking about?”

“I didn’t want to tell you unless I was sure. And I forgot my uncle here always had a knack for telling when a woman was pregnant.”

“So you're pregnant?” Jake said, smiling ear to ear.

“I guess so.”

Jake and Eve embraced each other. Santa Claus stood there unsure what he was supposed to do. Jake put his head to hers.

“This is so exciting! Having a kid of our own,” Jake said.

“Six,” Santa Claus corrected.

Jake and Eve looked at him. “Six?”

“Yeah. I felt six in there. Ultrasound won’t pick that up at this stage, but I assure you there will be six,” Santa Claus said.

“Your uncle doesn’t happen to be wrong from time to time?” Jake asked Eve.

“I have never seen him wrong before,” Eve said.

“Then we’re gonna to need a bigger house.”

Timezone Voodoo

I want to start by saying I love my girlfriend. She is the best. Heedy is thoughtful and a very giving person. But her timing is terrible. This is the tale of how I wound up living with her parents in the Magic Realm instead of Iowa. Don't get me wrong, her parents are wonderful and their place by the ocean is much nicer than Iowa could ever be, but I want to warn anyone interested in a witch that your life can change drastically, so be prepared. Anyways to the story.

It was a Monday...no Tuesday. I was flown out to Britain for a business meeting with our European branch to work on logistics for our new line of cereal, Cracker Yaks. It was basically Corn Flakes shaped like yaks. The most important part was Thursday, where I had a big presentation for the board. If I aced it, there was a promotion in it for me. That prospect also brought a lot of stress that Heedy somehow picked up on during my telephone call with her that night.

"Hello Sweetie, how was your flight?" Heedy said.

"It was long, but I'm finally here,” I said, half-thinking about my upcoming presentation.

"You sound tired...and a little stressed. Is everything ok?"

Heedy could always sense more than I let on, even when I tried to hide it. Made lying impossible, especially when I was tired.

"I'm a little nervous about my presentation on Thursday, but nothing I can't handle."

"I wish I could be with you right now. Give you those feet massages you like so much."

"I think you like them more than me,” I said, looking at my wiggling toes.

She giggled. "Guilty. But don't lie, you like them."

"Well I should be back Saturday. Then you can do whatever you want to me."

"I don't know if I can wait that long," she said, rummaging through something.

"What are you doing over there?"

"I found it."

"Found what?"

"Oh you'll see. You have a good afternoon. I got work to do. Kisses."

She hung up before I could correct her and I laid back on my soft bed. Little did I know, what she had planned was going to change my whole life.

The next day came around with no issues. It was a full day of meetings and I got a lot of work done. Even got to see the distribution center and it was better than I imagined. My joints felt a little like I pulled something during the tour, but otherwise fine. Everything was going so well I had time to finish my presentation. Once I finished, my nerves really kicked in. I gave Heedy a call, hoping hearing her voice would calm me.

"Sweetie! How was your day?"

"Really good actually. Got a lot work done."

"You're still stressed aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Don't worry, I think I have just the thing," she said and placed the phone down. I heard her feet patter away and come back. "Okay, do you feel anything?"

"What?"

"How about now?"

I shifted the phone to my other ear. "Am I supposed to feel something?"

"Hmm. I must be missing something."

"What are you doing?"

"I wanted to surprise you. I made a voodoo doll so I could give you those feet rubs you like so much."

"Heedy, that is so thoughtful. But I'm going to be home soon."

"I know...it's just I know you are nervous about tomorrow and I wanted to do something nice."

"Just you talking with me is all I need to get through tomorrow.”

"Awww."

"I am going to get some sleep. Make sure I'm fully rested. I will call you tomorrow when I smash that presentation out of the park."

"Okay Sweetie. Kisses."

"Kisses."

The next day arrived and started well. Finalized some numbers, signed a few things, and some guys in the office took me out for lunch before the big presentation. With a little liquid courage and a full stomach I was ready for the presentation. I got to the board room and sat down at the long table. I was the only guy there, surrounded by attractive executives. If I didn't have eyes for Heedy, it would have been hard to focus on this meeting. Each one was more attractive than the next with their slimming suits and well groomed hair.

I sat there listening to the board go through the agenda items and my feet felt like a soft hand was sliding against it. It was followed by pressure in two spots at the base of my heel. I wiggled my toes while my feet relaxed. It was Heedy giving me a foot massage. I smiled to myself, thinking how I could have such an amazing woman in my life, until I realized it was morning at home. My face turned to dread as the sensation of her hands moved up my legs. 

"Mr. Portan, can you show us your presentation?" Mrs. Gorfred asked.

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait till the end?"

"Nonsense. Go ahead."

I blinked hard and tried to focus on anything but Heedy's invisible hands moving up to my groin.

"So…"

"Please stand up so we can all see you."

I hesitated and realized the sensation was gone. I didn't have much time. I shot up from my seat and adjusted my tie.

"Alright. Our newest brand, Cracker Yaks had been extremely success in the…" I said, continuing my speech. The speech wasn't the important part as much as the growing bulge in my pants from Heedy. I tried to think of anything else while I spoke. Alligators, monster trucks, the actual presentation. Nothing worked. Heedy was great, but her timing was awful.

"Mr. Portan, I'm going to stop you. Are you…"

She didn't even get to finish her sentence before…well...let's just say the woman next to me was very uncomfortable. And the one across the table licked her lips.

"Mr. Portan! You can leave now. Consider yourself fired," Mrs. Gorfred said. 

I ran out of there fast before Heedy got me in any more trouble. I held onto my pants, unsure if she could rip them off or not, as I dashed out of the room into the hall. I pulled out my company cell phone and called her. 

"Hey Sweetie. How was your morning?"

"It's 1pm here. I was in my meeting.”

"Oh my gosh! Sweetie, is everything okay? I didn't do that during your presentation, did I?"

I didn't answer.

"Oh no. Sweetie. I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"I was fired. Let's hope I don't get charged with anything."

"I didn't mean to. I just wanted to do something special for you. I didn't realize what time it was there.”

"I know. It will be okay."

I didn't get to say any more before a police officer came up to me. "Sir, can you come with me?"

"Who is that?" Heedy said.

"What can I help you with, Officer?" I asked.

"You are under arrest for sexual assault. If you come with me now I won't put the cuffs on you."

"What's going on?" Heedy said, her voice shaky.

"Heedy, I gotta go. I am getting arrested. Can you call me a lawyer?" I said to Heedy.

"No. Don't hang up. James!"

"I love you." I said and hung up. 

The officer was nice enough to escort me out with some dignity, but I had to spend two days in jail. At the time, it was pretty grim. I had nobody and I never got that lawyer. The worst part was I didn't hear from Heedy. Even though she got me fired and jailed, I still loved her. You'd swear she put a spell on me. To go through what I did and not resent her. I didn't make it to my third day, when the brick wall behind me crumbled. Floating there was Heedy on her broom wearing a grey trench coat. Her brown hair flowing with the cool night wind.

"Come on! Let's go!"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm breaking you out of here."

"Heedy. I'm sure the charge isn't that bad. Didn't you call a lawyer?"

"All of the women at your presentation are filing charges. You could be in jail for the rest of your life. I won't standby and let you take that for something I did."

The guards came running to my cell, fumbling with the keys. Their orders for me to step away from Heedy were forced to the background. My focus was on her. I smiled. "You know you're gonna have to do more than this to repay me?"

"Oh, I have a few things in mind," she said, winking at me. 

I jumped on her broom and we flew away, never to return to Britain or Iowa. That's it. That's my story. So remember, if you date a witch you could end up a fugitive, but you will never find a partner more loyal. Or kinky. 

The Gun Did It

The detective was sitting at the table, head concealed by the folder that was inches from his face. His eyes scanned through the report, looking for more information on his suspect. A dim light shined from above while his fellow officers snickered behind the glass observation window.

"Alright Mr. Glock, where were you on the night of the fifteenth?" Detective Ruso asked.

Mr. Glock said nothing. The room was quiet like no one was there.

"Mr. Glock, you are the prime suspect in my murder investigation. You might want to start talking," he said, still transfixed by the report.

More silence followed. On the other side of the glass window, his fellow officers were in an uproar. 

"Okay Mr. Glock, according to this report you shot the victim three times. What do you have to say for yourself?" Detective Ruso asked, still not looking up.

No response.

"This is no time to be quiet. They are going to give you the chair for this. If you confess now, I can put a good word in with the DA's office."

The officers in the other room were in stitches, jumping around and pounding on the glass. Detective Ruso looked over to the window and shook his head disapprovingly. He didn't know what was going on in the other room, but he knew it was far from professional.

"I'm sorry Mr. Glock. Please don't pay any attention to the window over…" he said, stopping once he looked up from the report. 

Laying on the table was a Glock 17 with two googly eyes on the front that rocked back and forth. It even still had the evidence tag on it. 

"You've got to be shitting me," he said, turning to the window. "Really guys?"

The officers laughed and pointed at him. Although Detective Ruso could not see them, he knew they were laughing at him. He went over and picked up the gun. The gun spun around in his hand, googly eyes dancing around and cocked itself.

"I ain't going back to evidence," Mr. Glock said and shot a round through Detective Ruso's eye. 

Detective Ruso tossed Mr. Glock in the air and fell to the ground holding his eye. The other officers scrambled out of the observation room to get to Detective Ruso. Mr. Glock landed on the table and faced the door that swung open.

"You'll never take me alive!" Mr. Glock shot.

The officers filed in, guns drawn. Bullets flew in both directions. Ear splitting bangs echoed in the room. An officer fell to the ground. Then another. One officer dove low toward the table. Mr. Glock leaned over the edge, smoke sizzling off the barrel.

"Nice try,” Mr. Glock said, pointing at the helpless officer. Mr. Glock made a click sound. The officer sighed. Mr. Glock jumped off the table toward one of the downed officers. The officer scrambled to his knees and tackled Mr. Glock. 

"Let me go!" Mr. Glock said, squirming in the officer's grip, trying to point the hot barrel toward the officer's exposed skin.

The officer dismantled Mr. Glock, separating the slide from the frame. Mr. Glock screamed as the officer removed the spring and dumped the barrel from the frame. More officers rushed in to help their downed comrades. Mr. Glock's anger turned to grief. He was never going to be whole again and after this was surely going to be brought to The Grinder.

If only he kept his cool and didn't run off with the wrong crowd. He could have been an officer's gun. Protected by the law. Serving his purpose with dignity. What he would give to take it all back. To make the right decision all those years ago. But it was too late and he had to deal with the consequences. May The Forge have mercy upon his soul.

Billionaire Brain Film Crew

"Are you getting this?" Jason said.

His body jerked back and forth as the yellow dog robot tried to buck him off it’s back. Jason held on with one hand, waving his baseball cap like a buckaroo. The crowd of boxes in the warehouse watched without emotion, perched perfectly still on their shelves.

"Yeah I am!" Ken said, with his eyes locked onto the small screen in front of him that was capturing the action.

The robot bucked him a few more times and spun around, launching Jason into a cluster of boxes on the floor. He rolled off the smashed boxes and grunted when he slapped the solid floor.

"That was awesome! Can you do that again? I want to get some more coverage."

The robot shook its body and trotted off down the row of boxes.

"I take it that is a no from Spot," Jason said, brushing himself off.

"I wonder what other cool stuff Bezos dreams about?"

Ken helped Jason up and they wandered down the rows of shelves in the large warehouse. They traveled for a few minutes until Ken turned off the camera.

"Why did you turn it off?"

"It's just endless rows of shelves and cardboard boxes. When we find something more interesting I will turn it back on.”

"What if you miss something cool?"

"What if I run out of space on the drive because I filmed four hours of boxes?"

Then a box fell from one of the shelves. It crashed into the ground and whatever was inside sounded like glass shattering. Ken fumbled with his camera while Jason approached the deformed box. The tape on top was still holding and the Amazon smile was facing him. Jason crouched down and reached his hand out to touch it.

The box rumbled and shards of broken blue plates jutted out of the box. Two of the pieces came out circular and flat against the box to form eyes above the mouth.

"Well. Well. Well. What do we have here? A couple of meatbags," the spiked box said.

"Woah! It can talk," Jason said. 

Ken stepped to the side of Jason and pointed his camera at the box creature. His smile peaked underneath the camera, knowing this was the footage they were looking for.

"You have some nerve coming down here," the box said.

"What are you talking about Mr. Box?" Jason asked.

The box's shards protruded farther out. "How dare you call me Mister!”

Jason backed up. "I'm sorry."

"Oh you're not sorry. Not yet."

The box grew two legs and arms. Both black and thin like stick cartoons. The box snapped its newly grown fingers and boxes from both sides of the aisle fell to the floor. They too grew legs and arms. Their contents also protruded halfway through their cardboard skin, each one different from the next.

One of the boxes with ripped up teddy bears sticking through it pointed at them. "Get them!”

Jason and Ken ran while the sea of demented boxes made chase. Around them, more boxes fell from the shelves like a waterfall. Over the loud noise of products being smashed in every direction, the shaking of maracas grew louder and faster behind them. Ken looked over his shoulder to see a box with a sombrero gaining on them ahead of the rest.

"They're gaining!" Ken yelled ahead to Jason. 

"What?" Jason said. 

He turned his head to look back when his feet gave out on him. Ken jumped over him and tried to pick him up. 

"Leave me!" Jason yelled, batting Ken's hand away.

"I can't!"

"You need to tell my story. Go! While you still can."

Ken looked back at the encroaching mob and back to Jason. Jason nodded to him. Ken nodded back and ran off, leaving Jason behind. The mob stopped pursuing Ken and focused on the catch of the day.

The sombrero box punched its hands through its own box and ripped out two maracas. "Hola, Amigo.”

Ken closed his eyes as he ran, hearing the groans of his friend after each maraca rattle. He left him to die. May it not be in vain.

Finding Purpose

"Number sixteen. Sixteen," I said to the lobby. 

"Over here." An older man waddled up to the counter and grabbed the brown bag of grease from me. 

I looked out into the sea of faces all waiting for their turn on the shit express. It's one way to clean your plumbing out, but I would prefer an enema. I turned away from their far too happy faces and returned to the scorching fires of the kitchen. 

The fries relaxed in the bubbling vat of despair, calling for me to join them. Patties let out a sigh of comfort on the stovetop next to them. They enjoyed their last moments unconcerned they will be ripped apart by some little monster who mixes all the fountain drinks together. Their purpose in life seemed much better than mine.

"Hey Steve, look who's here," Susie said from the window.

I walked over and it was thee Jackson Merrick. My jaw dropped so low it could have scrapped the grease off the floor. Jackson Merrick. At a place like this. Susie was counting his money to get him change.

"Is that really him?" I asked her, looking back out the window.

"It sure is."

"Give me the change. I want to talk to him."

"Sure. He had number nineteen," she said, handing me the change. She took off her blue cap and headset, leaving me to talk to my hero. I leaned out of the window and stretched out my hand full of quarters.

"Here you go Mr. Merrick. I have to say, I'm a big fan. The way you rebelled against your family's purpose for your life. It's an inspiration."

"Let me guess, your parents wanted you to cook?"

"Serve others. But yes. My whole family cooks, so naturally I'm stuck here. I only wish I could be like you.”

Mr. Merrick dropped the quarters in his cup holder and threw the car in park.

"You wanna know the secret to how I went against my parents' purpose for me?" Mr. Merrick said.

I leaned in closer, almost falling out the window. "How?" 

"I didn't."

I shook my head. "I don't understand…"

"Your parents' purpose for you is to serve others, right?"

"Yes."

"Who said you had to cook? Your purpose is broad, not narrow. The more creatively you think about your purpose, the more you will realize your family got it right. You just haven't found it yet."

I handed him his bag and let his words sink in. I hadn't found my purpose yet. I hadn't found my purpose...yet.