Man Down

Tinkletoes is down. From his position, on his back in the middle of the living room floor, the odor stifling. Tinkletoes tries breathing through his mouth but that just makes it worse.

Dobby takes this opportunity to make himself scarce.
“Breathe Dragon pee stink through your nose...down you go. Breathe Dragon pee stink through your mouth you're gonna pass out.” TP giggles.

“Dylan, get that pee outside, Quick!” Peter instructs. “Don't spill. Furnatche stay with me.” Furnatche whimpers looking up at Peter, the dragon takes a seat by his side. Both look down at Tinkletoes. “Things seem to be a little better.” Peter says after sniffing at the air, lightly.  

 Dylan comes back in the house. “Did you spill?” Peter asks.

The four year old shakes his head.

“Go wash your hands.” Peter instructs. “Now what do we do about this?”

“Give him mouth to mouth.” TP giggles.

Peter glares at the faerie, then hears a loud slurping noise coming from the his right side. He looks at Furnatche in time to see the baby dragon's big wet tongue return to it's mouth. Peter looks down at Tinkletoes whose head is dripping with dragon slobber.

“Mom?” Tinkletoes calls out.

Furnatche smiles. His tail swishes joyfully.

Peter looks up at TP. Both work hard to contain their laughter.

“Furnatche licked you. You passed out. He thought he was helping.”

Tinkletoes reaches out wiping his face. Opening his eyes, he looks at the slobber covering his hand. “The dragon pisses and I pass out. The dragon licks me and I wake up.”

Looking at Furnatche, “You got me from both ends didn't you?” Tinkletoes asks.

The baby dragon nods with enthusiasm, tongue dangling.

“What happened?" Tinkletoes asks Peter, "Two tours of duty in desert terrain, things rotting everywhere and I have never smelled anything like that before."

“Furnatche's a dragon silly.” TP says.

“Furnatche's waste is special. If it doesn't touch anything organic it has no smell and disappears in seconds. If it makes contact with something organic then it smells.”

“A LOT! More than anybody else's. Even Daddy.” Dylan says returning from the bathroom.

“That took a while.” Peter said looking at his little brother. “You weren't playing in the water were you?”

“I'm four. It's what I do.” Dylan answers.

Turning his attention back to the mercenary, “Because Furnatche is from a different world his waste decays at an alarming rate once it gets the smell.  The more organic surfaces it touches the stronger the smell becomes. The smell becomes so strong it seems like it takes forever to fade. That's what Paige says anyway.” Peter explains.

Tinkletoes looks at Peter. “You know you'll do a lot better in life if you didn't listen to everything girls tell you. They're driven by their emotions. There are some situations emotions don't belong in.”

“Says the man whose feelings are hurt.” TP finishes.

Tinkletoes glares at TP.  “Just remember kid. Women are the enemy.” Tinkletoes says looking Peter in the eyes. He stands, carefully. “I don't let myself care about such things."

Tinkletoes looks at TP, “My idea didn't work, Peter's and Dylan's ideas didn't work either. What's next?” he asks.

“TP gets a turn.” Dylan smiles.

“Okay. TP fix this.” Tinkletoes says as he folds his arms across his chest.

“I will fix this and I will fix things for you too. I will need your bag silly man. As well as your helpers.”

Tinkletoes gives Peter a quick nod. Peter picks up the artillery bag. The two boys and the baby dragon make their way to the far side of the living room. There is a huddle. Lots of whispering and pointing. They get to work. Peter and Dylan use small pieces of aluminum foil and wrap them around the tips of the branches. The pieces were small and the work goes quickly. In the less than an hour the tree is covered in foil.

When they are nearly finished Dylan wakes Tinkletoes from the nap he's stealing on the couch. “What?!”

“Mr. T.  Wake up. It's done.” Dylan says smiling in the mercenary's face.

Looking over the small boy's head Tinkletoes studies their work.  “I can see that. Writer Lady is going to love that. It looks like a bright, shiny boat.”

“Or a tin hat.” Peter points out.

An evil laugh escaped Tinkletoes' throat. “That it does kid. That it does. I guess we won, didn't we?”

“TP's not finished yet.”

TP floats over to the shiny tree, using some dance moves that are probably way cool in the land of faerie, he coats the foil with a generous layer of faerie dust. The faerie snaps his fingers when the pyrotechnical boom goes off behind him and the dust lights up. The living room is filled with rich, luminous color. Everyone is transported from Writer Lady's living room to an outside ball room inside the two remaining walls of an old castle in TP's home world. “I used to play here when I was little.”

“Where is this?” Peter asked.

“My backyard.” TP says.

“Woooow!” Dylan exclaims breathlessly. Furnatche lets out a yip of excitement bouncing through the tall buttercups that litter the field around the ballroom.

“I want to play tag! You're it Peter! You got to find me.” Dylan calls running away.

“Is it done?” Writer Lady asks walking into the incredible sight that used to be the living room. She is followed closely by Aunt Purdy and Paige.

"Yes. It is. Brilliant isn't it?"  Tinkletoes asks.  "We didn't move a single ornament either."  

 TP glares at Tinkletoes. Peter too. Dylan and Furnatche hear the words and stop playing to look up at the group standing in the remains of the ballroom. 

 "The shimmering is beautiful.  Which I know has to be TP's work.  Thank you TP.  But the tree looks so different.  It reminds me of something.  Something that's just annoying.  I can't think of what exactly.  This is going to drive me crazy until I think of it.  But when I do..."

 "A simple 'Thank You' will do."  Tinkletoes says.

 Writer Lady responds, "Thank you."  

"Say, 'Thank you for doing it without moving the ornaments.'" Tinkletoes presses on.

"Thank you, for doing it without removing the ornaments." Writer Lady says speaking more softly and quietly with every syllable.

"You're welcome.  You can go do girly things in the kitchen now if you like.  Everyone is hungry."  

Writer Lady's face reddens, "'Excuse me?!"  

"I'm sure they are starving!  Let me show you that new recipe I was talking about."  Aunt Purdy says guiding Writer Lady into the kitchen.  

"He sent me to my own kitchen.  No man sends me into my kitchen!  If it weren't for Dobby."  She looks at Aunt Purdy, "Someday...his ass is out of here."  Writer Lady mutters, glaring back at Tinkletoes who is proudly reclining on the couch.  

"But not today." He finishes.