New Recruits

Writer Lady quietly shuffles into the kitchen through the morning's darkness.   She finds her way to the light switch and more importantly the coffee pot.   TP appears in a puff of smoke.

“Don't talk to me.”   Writer Lady says unsurprised by the faerie's entrance.

“Rise and shine.”  TP sings, giggling.

“That's not funny.”  Writer Lady says, picking up the carafe and filling it with water.

“It's really funny from here.”  TP giggles.

As the carafe fills Writer Lady's eyes begin to feel heavy, she nods off only to be awakened by water spilling out from the top and down the sides.  She mutters an expletive.  There is a knock on the door; muttering a bigger expletive she answers it.

“I'm back!”  Tinkletoes announces.  The self-proclaimed mercenary is smiling and looks well rested.

Writer Lady glares.

“Don't you want to say anything?  Hi.  I missed you.  How was your flight?”  He asks.

She continues glaring. 

“You don't look so good.  Are you sick?” He asks.

TP flutters near Tinkletoes' shoulder having followed Writer Lady to the door. “She's had kittens.”  The faerie giggles.

Writer Lady immediately turns her glare to the faerie.  “Don't do that again. You've been warned.”   She says turning on her heel.  She returns to the kitchen to make coffee.

Tinkletoes follows.  “Kittens?  You had kittens?  How did that happen?”  He asks, sitting down at the table.

Writer Lady finishes what she started and quietly watches the coffee maker brew.   “One night Mommy Cat and Daddy Cat meet at the ice cream shoppe.  Across the crowded shoppe their eyes meet and lock.  They start talking.   After several hours of getting to know each other and downing a big glass bottle of milk, they decide that they are in love, Daddy Cat follows Mommy Cat home and in nine to ten weeks kittens are born.  Six to eight weeks later the kittens are encouraged to find new lodgings.   Two found their way here.”  Writer Lady turns away from the counter and looks at Tinkletoes.  “I didn't give birth to kittens.  They moved in.”

“And now you're cranky.”   He says.

Her eyes narrow, her jaw tightens.   “I am not cranky.”

“You sound a little bit cranky.”

“I'm Not.”

Tinkletoes grins and starts to make another comment.

“It doesn't matter if I'm cranky or not.  Do you know what the fastest way is to get from 'Are you having a bad day?' to 'That fist came out of no where' is?”

Tinkletoes quietly waits for the answer.

“Telling people how they are feeling when they are already in a bad mood.”

Tinkletoes changes the subject.   “So what's been going on?”  He asks.

“They're kittens.  What do you think has been going on?”

“I don't know.  I've never met a kitten before.”

“Mew.”  A gentle high pitched sound comes from the entry leading into the living room.

Tinkletoes rises from his seat, grabs a knife from the counter, and stands in front of Writer Lady blocking her view.  “Don't ask any questions.  I have a lightsaber stashed in the cabinet above your head.  Quickly turn around, get it out, and give it to me.”

“Why?”

Not taking his eyes off of the newcomer he says. “I said, 'Don't ask any questions.'”

Writer Lady pushes her way past Tinkletoes' blockade.  “There you are.”  She says smiling.  “I bet you're hungry, aren't you?  Thirsty too.”   She continues sweetly.

“Mew.”  The kitten replies toddling across the kitchen to her.  Writer Lady scoops the kitten up and cradles it in her arms.

“Is that one of the?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Of course.   What did you think he was a space alien?”   Writer Lady asks smiling down at the kitten and rubbing noses with it.

“It's got really big ears and it's still kind of dark in here.   Honest mistake.”

“Neither E.T. or Paul had much going on in the way of ears.”

“That's because Yoda had all the ears.  A couple of big ones he had.  Yes...he did.”

Writer Lady and the kitten both look at Tinkletoes with blank expressions.

“What do you call him?”

“Spots.”

“That's a dog's name.”  Tinkletoes asks.

“He has a pair of spots on his back.”  Writer Lady says turning the kitten over to show Tinkletoes Spots' um...spots.   That was awkward.

“He looks odd.”  Tinkletoes says and gets a glare for his effort.  “Look at him.  He's white, striped, and spotted.  He's at least four different colors.”  Tinkletoes leans in and looks at the kitten more closely.  “His chin is dirty too.”

Writer Lady studies Spots' chin.  “That is also a patch of color.  Think of it as a goatee gone wrong.”

“Mew.”  Another gentle meow comes from the doorway.

“Look who's up.”  Writer Lady says.  She hands Spots to Tinkletoes who tries cradling the kitten the way Writer Lady did.

“Those ears are big.”  He says looking down at the kitten.  “I'll bet you can hear just about anything with those.”  Spots peers up at him.  “The biggest thing about you is those ears.”  He says looking at the kitten more closely.  “No, the feet.  Those feet are bigger.  You must be part rabbit or something.”

“This is Smudge.”   Writer Lady announces bringing the bigger kitten over.  “He is colored similarly but his markings are distinct in other ways.

“A suck up too.”  Tinkletoes says pointing to his own face.  “Brown nose.”

Smudge tenses a little and jumps out of Writer Lady's arms.  “He doesn't like cuddling when other people are around.”

“A private guy huh?” Tinkletoes asks.

Writer Lady nods.

“Why Smudge and Spots?”

“Mom named them and nothing else seemed to fit.  They have middle names too. Smudge is Smudge Mal.”

“A Browncoat name.   I like it.”

“Smudge Mal liked me first.  When it's quiet he's very sweet.   Spots is Spots Wash.”

“One helluva pilot?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Oral fixation.   He's always licking things.  The furniture, my arm, himself.” Writer Lady looks around.   “He might be licking the windows.   I haven't caught him at it.  Not yet anyway.  Ray's dying to see what he does with a cheese puff.”

The Bucket Brigade

“Here's what we need to do.”   Tinkletoes says.  He is standing by the stove with several stainless steel buckets lined up on the counter next to him.  TP, Ray, Carp, Dobby, Peter, Dylan, and Writer Lady are all across the room standing in the front of the kitchen sink.

“Bugsy told Dobby that the spells infused in the broth and the noodles are working.  He also says it will work better the faster we get the noodles into Diomedes.  There are six buckets here, we're going to fill up these buckets with broth and noodles.  Everyone is going to make a single file line and we're going to pass the buckets to the next person in line.   The person in front will give it to Diomedes.  When Diomedes empties that bucket he immediately gets the next bucket that way he gets the medicine quickly and efficiently.  The spells in his system get neutralized and no more diarrhea.”

“Cool.   Just like a western.”  Ray says.

Dylan looks at Peter questioningly.

“Do you remember the show with all the horses?  The house caught fire and everyone stood in a line passing the buckets of water?”  Peter asks, looking down at his little brother.

Dylan nods.

“It's like that.”  Peter says.

“Except that the fire we're fighting is in the belly of a dragon!  Only the intense bravery and sharp wits of our romantic hero can save us.”  Carp announces.

The entire room groans and rolls their eyes.

“What?  Too much?”  Carp asks.

“Line up men.”   Tinkletoes says.  He fills the first bucket of noodles thrusting it at Carp.  “To the front of the line.”   He says.  Carp accepts the bucket and heads for the bathroom.

“Dude you're in front?”  Ray asks as Carp walks by.  “Cool!”

Dylan looks at Ray.

“He's up front.   In the poop zone.”  Ray announces.

Tinkletoes puts a full bucket into Ray's waiting hands.  “Dude...”  Ray says.  “Do you know what this means?”  He asks.

“Uh huh.”  Tinkletoes nods.   “Back spray.”  The self-proclaimed mercenary grins.  “Bye bye.”  He says and waves.  “The rest of us are going to get in line.” Tinkletoes says to Dylan.  “TP will fill the buckets, Writer Lady will pick them up one at a time and bring them to me.  We'll pass it on to Peter and then it will continue on to Diomedes.”

“What about Dobby?”  Dylan asks.

“He makes sure we know how it's going up there.  He went back to the bathroom.”

“Any more questions?”  Tinkletoes asks Dylan.

The boy shakes his head.

“Okay,” Tinkletoes says, turning to take a bucket from a waiting Writer Lady,“on with the mission.” He says handing the bucket to Peter.

Within minutes the buckets had made their way down the line without so much as a fart coming from the dragon.  The last bucket makes its way out of Peter's hands and into Ray's disappearing into bathroom.  Everyone at the back of the line lets out a sigh of relief.

Dobby comes out of the bathroom and stops in front of Tinkletoes.  “We need more.”

“There is no more.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Bugsy says that there is an air bubble full of magic in one far corner of Diomedes' stomach.”

“I just sent the last bucket up.”

“Diomedes emptied it.”

“What if he rolls around on the floor?”

Dobby shakes his head.

“Jumps up and down?”

Dobby shakes his head again.

“What if Carp rubs his belly?”

“Bugsy says another cup of noodles is the only thing that will work.”

Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady who has been listening.  She disappears into the kitchen reappearing with one last cup.  A coffee cup.

“Don't spill.”  She says.

The cup is full of broth.  There is a handful of noodles in the cup.  “The noodles have the most magic in them.  If you a lose a noodle...”

“I get it, we're screwed.”  Tinkletoes says finishing her sentence.

“Can I help?”  Dylan's hopeful voice asks.

Tinkletoes and Writer Lady look at each other, neither saying a word.   After a few moments Writer Lady answers, “Of course, honey why don't you keep me company while I do the dishes and then we'll cook something for the rest of us.”

“I want to help take care of Diomedes.”  Dylan says looking up at Tinkletoes.

Writer Lady quietly shakes her head, encouraging Tinkletoes to say “no.”

  Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady.  “This is my mission.   It will not fail.”   He looks at Dylan.  “Just a sec.”  “Hold this for me.”  Tinkletoes says, handing the cup to Writer Lady, he looks down and briefs his young soldier on their mission.  “Bugsy, the bug living inside Diomedes says that Diomedes has not eaten enough yet. They need one more cup of noodles.  What is Writer Lady holding?”

Dylan turns to look at Writer Lady and turns back to Tinkletoes.  “A cup.”

“That's one cup of noodles.   The last cup.   If Diomedes doesn't get all of this, if a single drop of broth drips out...”

“We're screwed.”  The tow headed boy answers.

Writer Lady covers her mouth.  Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady and grins.

“Yeah we are.  In order to complete this mission successfully I'm gonna pick you up, we're both gonna hold on to that cup for all it's worth, and you're going to give it to the dragon.  Ready soldier?”   Tinkletoes asks.

Dylan nods.

Tinkletoes picks up the boy and takes the cup. Both hold on to it.

“I have to sneeze.”  Dylan announces.

“Let's double time it.”  Tinkletoes says and the two disappear into the combat zone just as the four year old sneezes.

“Thank you again.”  Writer Lady says, she and Tinkletoes are standing in the bonus room.  Diomedes has been cured and is resting, dinner for everyone else has been prepared and eaten, and the final clean up of the kitchen is nearly finished.  “You really saved the day.”

“Keeping noodles from being spilled wasn't very hero-y.”  Tinkletoes points out.

“Sometimes a hero is the person that keeps it all moving.”   Writer Lady clarifies.

“Someone who keeps the rotation going.”  Tinkletoes agrees.

“So that tomorrow can be another day.”  She says.

The self-proclaimed mercenary nods in quiet agreement.  “I don't think I'll come over tomorrow that way you can rest.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Dobby and the others will be bored by tomorrow afternoon.   Why don't you come over later in the day?”

“After lunch?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“After lunch.”  She confirms.

A silence grows between them.

“About that con thing...”  Tinkletoes begins.

“I hope that you and Anlace have a successful or is it better to say lucrative weekend?”

“I'd be happy with break a leg.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Break a leg.”  She says, smiling gently.

Tinkletoes gives Writer Lady a puzzled look and continues backing out through the door, slipping and nearly falling on a step, righting himself just in time.

“Don't break anything today.”  Writer Lady says.

“It's okay.   I've got it.”  He says, resituating himself.  He turns to leave, turning back to Writer Lady he says, “Have a nice day.”

Following him outside, she looks to the West and the setting sun, “Have a nice night.”

“Until tomorrow.”  He says.

“Until tomorrow.”  She confirms.

Writer Lady returns inside.  Dobby stops her in the bonus room.

“That's it?  You're just letting it go?”

“Yes, I'm dropping trying to figure out where the con he's going to is if that's what you're asking.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Dobby waits for further information but gets none.

“That's your entire answer, because?”

“Because Tinkletoes says he knows what he wants but for whatever reason his actions don't match his words.   I gave him a chance to take that big step when I offered to meet him at the con and he didn't.  I don't read minds.   I can't begin to fathom how he thinks so I'm going to trust that he has a good reason for things being where they are right now.”

“So you're leaving things here?  Dobby asks.

“It's not my move kitty.”

“But Mom...”

“Dobby kitty it's been a freakishly long day.   I'm sure things will look different in the morning let's get some rest.”

“Mo-om.”

Writer Lady lets out a tired sigh and tries explaining it again. “Dobby, if anyone told me two weeks ago that these last twenty-four hours was going to take place the way they did I would have insisted that they were crazy.  I've lived a lot longer than you have kitty and this I can tell you. Life is unpredictable, it can change directions in a matter of minutes and in the course of just two weeks your life can be turned around completely.  Getting through it takes heart, love, strength, thought, hard work, and planning.   It also takes faith.  Today I choose to have faith.  Having faith in Tinkletoes is a little bit scary but here we are.  Understand?”

“I think so.”  The ginger tabby answers.

“Good.  Can I go to bed now?   I'm so tired.  I feel like crap.”

“You kind of look like it too Mom.”  Dobby says.

“Thanks so much.”  Writer Lady says with full sarcasm.  “It's time to say goodnight Dobby.”

“Goodnight Dobby.”

When Feeding A Dragon...

“Are you boys finished?”   Writer Lady asks.

Tinkletoes looks around the kitchen, all participants are nodding.   “Yes.  They are.”

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes.

“We are.”  He says looking away.

“You're just showing your ignorance.   You all should be ashamed of yourselves.”  Writer Lady says as she monitors the progress of the cooking noodles.

Tinkletoes takes the few steps across the kitchen to stand beside her.  “No one meant anything by that.  We were just cutting up.  Acting stupid.”

“It's not appropriate.”

Tinkletoes stands in one spot looking at Writer Lady and waiting for more information.

“There are children here.  We're supposed to be examples for them.  Teach them what appropriate behavior looks like.”

“The children are fictional characters, it doesn't count.”

“Of course it counts.  It always counts.”

“What about?”

“It always counts.”

Tinkletoes clears his throat in an effort to ask another question.

“Dobby counts too.  He always counts because I have to live with him and he gets away with way too much all ready.”  Writer Lady says, answering Tinkletoes' question before it's asked.

“Cut him some slack.  He's a good cat.”  Tinkletoes says.   “What's he done that's so bad?”

“He contracted a mercenary without my permission obligating me to provide baked goods as payment for an indefinite period of time, for starters.”

“You mean me.”

She looks at Tinkletoes.

“Those baked goods kicked butt.   I um...we brought happiness to a lot of people with those cupcakes.  Besides, look at what Dobby and I meeting led to.   All of this.”

There are farting noises followed by the inevitable stench that accompanies the farts and the sound of breaking glass.

“Silly human.”  TP giggles near the source of the sound of breaking glass.

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes.

“Okay, I'll say something.”  Turning away from the stove and facing the group he says, “The cow jokes were fun but always remember that Nebraska is great place.   If zombies ever attack go there first.”

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes, “What?” she mouths.

Tinkletoes continues, “There are lots of cows and food factories.  The zombies can be drawn in by the cows and then locked into the food factories.  Eventually they will run out of stuff to eat, turn on each other, and...No More Zombies.”   He looks at Writer Lady.  She's not impressed.   “Never underestimate the power of Nebraska.”  He says.  “It could save us all.”

Writer Lady turns back to her pot of noodles and rolls her eyes.

“If you do that too much your eyes will stay that way.”  Tinkletoes whispers in her ear.  “Caught ya.”

“The noodles are done!”  She announces, cheers are heard throughout the room. “Let me get you a bowl Diomedes and you can eat.”  Writer Lady says.

“Mi'lady,”  Diomedes says, “I was wondering if I might break my fast in the bathroom.”

“You want to eat in the bathroom?”

“My last endeavor into food consumption was quite the disaster.  I thought, well...Bugsy and I discussed it and we decided that it might be a more proactive move if I eat in the shower.”

“If you get sick again it will be a lot easier to clean up.”  She agrees.

“Bugsy wants you to know that he will be able to tell if the medicine is going to work after the first serving.  He can also tell you when I have had enough medicine and everything is neutralized.”

“That's wonderful news.”   Writer Lady says.   “If you would care to retire to the bathroom I'll bring your first serving.”

“Oh yes.   That is wonderful.  Most delicious.”  Diomedes' exclamations can be heard in the living room.  Everyone listens and waits.   Tinkletoes crosses the living room to Writer Lady.  “What do you think?”  He asks.

Writer Lady looks around quietly admiring the much improved view.

“Is the carpeting new?”  She asks.

“TP did his best.  He couldn't save everything.”  Tinkletoes says.

“That's a different television too.”   She says.

Tinkletoes nods.

“The walls look just as fresh and bright as they were to begin with.  The woodwork is prettier than it was before.  The shutters look like they don't have a speck of dust on them.”  She says.

“Faerie cleaning techniques.”

“It is wonderful.   I am most grateful to the cleaning crew.”

“Thank you.”  Tinkletoes says with a brief nod of his head.

In a puff of smoke TP appears floating next to Tinkletoes and Writer Lady.  “She meant us, silly man.”  TP says.

“Yeah, you didn't do any work.”   House admonishes.

“Thank you TP.  Thank you House.”  Writer Lady says.

TP takes a bow.

“We women have to stick together.”  House responds.  “I feel so much better. Tons lighter.  Dry carpeting can make all the difference.”

“I told you darling you're as beautiful as ever.”  Mural Man's sweet whisper is heard as it runs faintly along the walls.

“Oh Mur...”  House gushes.

Dylan enters the room just as Mural Man whispers his words of love.  “Gross!”  He exclaims.

“You say it's gross now but one day it's going to be your turn.”   Writer Lady teases.

“No Way!”

Writer Lady looks at Dylan solemnly and quietly nods.

“Seriously?”   He asks.

She nods again.

“I'm not looking forward to that day!”   The four year old declares.

“Did you need something?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Peter wants you to know that Ray and Carp are almost done cleaning off the counters.  The dishes are stacked up and ready to be washed too.”

“Thank you Dylan.  I'll be right in.”  Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes.  “It's time for me to get back in the kitchen, washing the dishes is my job.”

“Can't House do that?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“She shouldn't have to do everything.”  Writer Lady looks around at the immaculately clean living room.  “House has been through so much today.”

“So have you.”  Tinkletoes says.

Dobby enters the living room from the side closest to Writer Lady.  The ginger tabby has been keeping watch over Diomedes. “Diomedes and Bugsy both agree that the noodles are working.  But Bugsy says that it will work better the faster we feed Diomedes.”

“Flooding the system.” Tinkletoes says nodding. “We can flush anything bad out that isn't responding right away.”

“Can his digestive system take that?” Writer Lady asks.

“He's a dragon, if anything can take it Diomedes can.  Let's get everyone together.  I have an idea.”

If My Characters Asked You For A Job*

     Today I find myself looking at my LinkedIn account (like that's anything
new) perusing jobs, potential companies/contacts and not getting far.   Like much of the world, networking requires a “look at me” approach.  Something which is great for extroverted people but that is not easy for the introverts, yep that includes me.  I have adapted quite well over the years.  If you've met me before and I decide you're okay watch out for that second, third, or fourth meeting because I'm going to extrovert personality all over your a***, sorry, the place.  I can be described as anything from sweet to quirky or weird.  I have to admit that the Internet does make things easier, once I remind myself that I am in cyberspace, can relax, and share a little bit more of me without tearing a hole in the fabric of time or space.

     I'm looking at my account, okay, scrutinizing it.  I describe myself as a humorist.  My brain says (I call my brain 'Dude' just so you know).  I like that name.  It's so relaxed, laid back, smart without having to try very hard because hey, we all like to feel smart, right?  Besides, I would hate to call my brain Lance if it felt more like a Steve or a Joe or a Jackson.  Why doesn't my brain have a female name? (Scratches head)  Good question.  Dude says he'll have to get back to you on that one.   Anyway Dude says, “If you want people to see you as a well-written individual with a knack for humor you have to make them laugh.”  I told you Dude was smart right?  Which begs the question, “Can people see you as well-written if you've named your brain “Dude”?   Poor Dude two questions in one morning.

      It's all so complicated isn't it?  I wanted to talk about work, looking for work, transitioning into a new field, reinventing yourself (apparently one doesn't have to be super rich to do this, I can't help but think that being super rich would make the process easier) while still making people laugh.  Just give me a second, that was a long sentence, Dude needs some air.

      I decided that one of the clearest and quickest ways to share who I am (a t-shirt might be quicker...hmm) and still laugh at the challenges of getting, excuse me, (clears throat) finding work would be if I illustrated for you the things that might happen if one of my characters approached a hiring manager, peer, colleague, or even a random person in an effort to find work.

      TP is an interesting character.  He's a faerie.  A real one.  A really tiny man with a little pair of wings.  He flies around and everything.  He has a fondness for pixies.  Quite a reputation.   He's also fairly obnoxious.

      We enter a small dark room to find TP flying around a large gilded cage.  The hiring manager (a human) he has been interviewing with is locked inside.  He's wearing nothing but a loin cloth.  No, I don't think this is appropriate at all but according to TP this is how things get done in “the Fae”.  Don't shoot the messenger.

   “Would you let me out?”  The hiring manager asks.

   “Have you hired me yet?”   TP asks.

   “No.”  The hiring manager responds.

   “TP says 'No' too.”  The faerie says.

   “Okay then...you're hired.”  The hiring manager says.

   “You haven't asked me any questions.   Silly human.”  TP giggles.

   “Okay...”  The hiring manager decides that the situation might feel more manageable if he does what TP wants him to do.   He is a hiring manager after all.   He'll just do his job without the benefit of long pants.  Oh...the goose pimples.

   “So TP, tell me a little bit about yourself.”

   “I'm TP the faerie.  I want to learn how humans work.  Give me a job.”

   “What kind of job are you interested in?  What kind of work would you be good at?”

   “I tell people what to do and someone gives me lots of money.”  TP giggles.  “What else is there?”

   “You're a work smart not hard kind of guy.”

   “I'm a faerie, work doesn't exist for me.”

   “If that's your philosophy it sounds like you have a good attitude.”

TP looks at the hiring manager, studies his clothes, his keys, and various electronic devices that are neatly stacked on the floor just out of said hiring manager's reach.  “Give me your job.”  TP says.

“My job is technical.  It took me a long time to acquire the skill set needed to do this work.”

“TP can do it.  Want to see?”  The faerie asks.

      The hiring manager looks around.  He's in a gilded cage, wearing a loin cloth, and the cage is locked.  It's not like he's going anywhere.  “Sure.”

   “You're fired!  Go home!”  TP says giggling.

   “That was very good but giggling after you've fired someone is insensitive and the fired employee may have grounds to sue for emotional distress.”

   “Go Away!”   TP says and with a flick of the faerie's wrist the hiring manager disappears in a puff of smoke.

   Which is why TP is not allowed outside unsupervised.   Seriously, this did not really happen.   It's totally made up.   I'm not kidding.

    Aunt Purdy comes from a children's book I wrote a couple of years ago.  She is over 35, kind, smart, and gentle in nature.   One of the people central to her family and her community.

   Aunt Purdy enters the hiring manager's office with a plate of freshly baked cookies.  After handing the hiring manager her resume she sits down with her covered plate and waits.

   “I can see that you have many of the skills we are looking for.  You might have to start at a lower level position at least for the first year, would that be all right?”

  “That would be fine.”

  “You're hired.”   The hiring manager says.   Who isn't going to hire Aunt Purdy?  Seriously folks.

  “Cookie?”  Aunt Purdy asks.

  “Yes thank you.”

   Tinkletoes walks into the hiring manager's office stopping at his chair to look him in the eye.  “I'm Tinkletoes,”  he says,   “you're going to hire me.”

   The hiring manager looks at the resume printed on military green paper with camo trim along the page's side while Tinkletoes sits down in a chair on the other side of the manager's desk.  “You don't seem to have many of the skills we are looking for.  You are confident which is good.  I could keep the resume on file for you if you'd like.”

  Tinkletoes reaches into the pocket of his camos and a metal cannister falls out, rolling along the floor to stop at the hiring manager's feet.

  “I told you that you were gonna hire me.”  The self-proclaimed mercenary says, a small metal pin is dangling of off the end of one finger.

  “Threatening me isn't going to work.”

  “Three, two, one...”  Tinkletoes says, scooting his chair as far back from the hiring manager's desk as possible just as putrid dark smoke starts to billow out of the ends of the metal container.

  “Oh my god.  No, not this not now...”  The hiring manager pushes his chair as far from the cannister as he can and hides his head.  All he hears is the sound of the smoke as it slowly escapes the can, the feared explosion never comes.

  When the smoke has been expelled completely from the can Tinkletoes reaches out and picks it up.  

 “The smoke grenade must have fallen out of my pocket. Sorry.”

  “There is a no weapons policy at this company.   I will not be hiring you.”  The hiring manager coughs out handing Tinkletoes back his resume.

  “I'm a great guy to have around.  Kinda smart.   Funny.”

  The hiring manager continues coughing and shakes his head.

  “I make custom lightsabers in my spare time.  I could probably make you one.”

  “I'm a Trekkie . Star Wars is the enemy.”  The hiring manager proclaims.

  “Isn't there room for both?”  Tinkletoes asks grinning.

  “Noooo.”  The hiring manager says.  His “no” ending with a fit of coughing.

  “I'm not even gonna ask about Firefly.”  Tinkletoes mutters.  “I think you should consider me for a job.  I am a veteran.”   He says addressing the hiring manager.

  The manager looks at Tinkletoes and glares.

  “I single handedly saved the world from being taken over by Ninja Zombies.  You don't want to be without me on your team if space aliens attack.   Give me the schematics for this building and I could have a plan for a complete lock down on this place by the end of the week.  A space alien would never live to see the inside.”

  The hiring manager picks up the phone and says, “Hello, Security.”

  “You're busy.  I'll just let myself out.”  Tinkletoes says leaving the room.

   Sitting at my computer now reading over what I have written I know I have illustrated my ability to write humor.  I always feel better with feedback though don't you?   Dude likes it.  He says you should too.  In my peripheral vision I can see something fluttering to my right.   The faerie nods in approval. 

 Something, sorry, someone is breathing on the back of my neck.

  "So what do you think?"  

  "Looks good.  Let's get this out there, the offers are gonna start rollin' in.” Tinkletoes answers.

Within a few minutes I'm done.   Letting out a sigh I rise from the chair satisfied that my mission is complete.

  “I need the computer!”  Dobby's voice can be heard from the living room.

  The faerie plants himself on his own personal “any” key and refuses to budge.  “TP's Turn!”

  “No.  She needs more contacts on the LinkedIn account.   I'm taking command of this workstation.”  

Tinkletoes says sitting down.

  I look at Tinkletoes doubtfully.

  “You need more contacts.”

  “I know but this isn't like acquiring Facebook friends.  I need to make business contacts.”

  “Every contact is a good contact.”  Tinkletoes says.

  “How is a military surplus vendor going to help me find work as a writer?”

  “He gets catalogs?”

  “No tweeting.”

  “Tweeting can be helpful too.”

  “You're making people at the Pentagon nervous.”

  “I'm just sharing my ideas.”   Tinkletoes counters.

  “Some ideas aren't meant to be shared.”

  Did I mention my vivid imagination?  It's with me all the time. 

  

  Thank you for reading.  Have a nice day.

*This post is separate and unrelated to the storyline that is currently running.

Stranger Things Have Happened

“What?”   Dobby mouths back.

“I'm not ready.”  Tinkletoes mouths.

“You just said you were.”  The ginger tabby whispers.

Tinkletoes turns back to Writer Lady.  He dumps the remaining contents of a bag of flour into her mixing bowl and says, “Enough?”

Writer Lady nods.

“I'll be right back.   I've got to see a cat about a...about a...”  A silence grows as Tinkletoes struggles to finish his fabrication.  “A hairball.   I've got to see a cat about a hairball.  I'll be right back.”  He meets Dobby in the bonus room, the feline pounces.

“What's going on?  You asked Mom out.”   Dobby says.

“I'm not ready for this.”  Tinkletoes says.

“I told her how great you were.   I told her to give you a chance.  How can you not be ready?”  Dobby asks.

“I'm ready.   I'm just not ready to go out with her...you know...outside.”

Dobby looks around making sure no one is listening.

Seeing them talking from the kitchen, Dylan wanders over to the pair.   “Going out...to go outside, toss a ball around, enjoy the sunshine, peddle your papers, play football, roll down a hill with your best friend.”

Peter follows him into the room and picks up where his little brother leaves off.  “Tinkletoes is a grown-up going out is different for grown-ups little brother.  For Tinkletoes going out means coming out of the depths of his man cave and keeping company with a special friend or a potential mate.”

“Like a girl?”   Dylan asks his face scrunching up with disdain.  “Gross.”

“Writer Lady.”   Peter answers.

“She's a girl?”  Dylan asks.

“Yes.”  Peter responds.

“I only asked because she's so nice and girls are mean except for Aunt Purdy and Mom.”

“She's a girl too.”

Dylan looks at Tinkletoes.  “She's a nice girl.  It's okay to take her outside to play.   She won't hurt you.”

“That's nice little brother.”   Peter says.   “I don't think they need our help with this.  Let's get back to those noodles.  I bet we'll be done making them soon.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”  Peter answers.

“I want to see Diomedes eat them.  I think there are too many noodles even for him.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.   I think he'll eat all of those noodles and then throw up everywhere. Dragon vomit is gonna be so cool.”

“You'll be okay with cleaning up the mess then?”   Peter asks.

“Dragon vomit is gross.   I hope Diomedes doesn't get sick.”  Dylan announces.

“Me too little brother.   Me too.”  Peter says guiding Dylan back to the kitchen.

After the boys leave Dobby turns back to his friend.

“I don't have experience with this type of battle especially on foreign soil.”  Tinkletoes says.

  Dobby looks at Tinkletoes doubtfully.

“I haven't been on as many dates as you'd think.  None outside of town.  If this goes outside town I can't use any of my battle plans.  There will be outside variables influencing the outcome.  Things will be beyond my control.”

TP pops into the bonus room fluttering next to Tinkletoes.  “He thinks he's got control over things like people spend all of their time doing everything he says.   Silly human.”  The faerie giggles.

“I'm a big deal around here.   Once we have left home, she might not like me as much.   There are other men at a city con.  Men that might be more...” A silence fills the room. “impressive.   She's gonna meet some of those men, she's not gonna like me anymore.”

“She didn't like you that much to begin with.   Mom has not only agreed to go out with you but has also volunteered to meet you somewhere.   A new place.  You haven't even told her where it is yet so it isn't about the destination.  How many women have offered to do that for you?”

Tinkletoes grins and starts to answer.

“Women that know you well but aren't related to you.”   Dobby emphasizes.

Tinkletoes closes his mouth.   Something captures his attention.  “Smell that?” He asks.

The ginger tabby sniffs the air.   “What, that?”

Tinkletoes inhales more deeply and closes his eyes.  “Yeah.”

“That's Mom's chicken broth.   They must be getting ready to cook the noodles.”

“Now I'm hungry.”   Tinkletoes says.

“Mom will make sure everyone eats as soon as Diomedes does.”

“Let's get back in there and help.”  Tinkletoes says.

TP spins around and reappears in the garb of an impeccably groomed housewife complete with full skirted dress, heels, apron, and perfectly coiffed hair. “He's so sexy when he takes charge like that.”  He says breathlessly, pretending to swoon.

Dobby rolls his eyes before following Tinkletoes back into the kitchen.

“So what are we doing?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“According to Bugsy we have enough noodles made to coat Diomedes' digestive system.  Writer Lady answers gesturing to the piles of freshly cut noodles covering her kitchen counters.   “I have two large pots of broth going, as soon as they are boiling we're cooking,  Diomedes is eating, and hopefully keeping his food um...in.  Is it in or down?”

“Both if we're lucky.”  Tinkletoes answers.

“Mom, will what's in the noodles be enough medicine?”  Dobby asks.

“Diomedes and TP, before he so conveniently disappeared (Writer Lady looks at TP pointedly) House has been washing dishes for me thankyouverymuch, infused the broth with magic too.  Between the noodles and the broth there is enough magic to cure Diomedes, if it is going to work at all.  We just have to wait and see.”

“Did you find it?'  Writer Lady asks looking at Tinkletoes.

“Did I find what?”

“Your hairball?”

Tinkletoes looks at Dobby for help.   The ginger tabby shrugs.  “As it turns out, I didn't need one.”  He says.

“That's good?"  She stops, thinks about and says.  "That's good."  Shaking her head she moves on, "So where is this con you're going to?” Writer Lady asks as she watches her pots.

“In the city.   Big place.  Big, big, place.”

“There are lots of cities.  Several big ones, so which one is it?”  Writer Lady asks.

Tinkletoes says nothing.

Writer Lady looks at him and waits.

The liquid in both large pots are making a faint sizzling sound as bubbles develop increasing in number and then growing in size as the broth comes to a boil.   Tinkletoes looks at the stove as bubbles start making their way to the underside of the glass lid threatening to boil over.

“My broth.”  Writer Lady says crossing the kitchen to the stove.

“Help.”  Tinkletoes says looking at TP and Dobby.

“Just tell her where you're going.”   Dobby says.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“If I tell where it is she might show up on her own.”  Tinkletoes says.

“It's Mom.  She's pretty smart don't you think she can figure it out on her own?”

“I'm hoping she isn't interested in doing that much work.”

“So where is it?'  Writer Lady asks as she turns down the flames under each pot and adds noodles to the boiling broth.

Tinkletoes looks from TP to Dobby.   Both are holding up signs one reads “New York” and the other “Los Angeles.”

When Writer Lady turns to face Tinkletoes each sign disappears in a puff of smoke.

“New Angeles.”   Tinkletoes responds.

“New Angeles?”  Writer Lady repeats, raising an eyebrow.  “Where's that?”   She asks.

“In the middle.”  Seeing that he has her attention Tinkletoes continues his fabrication.  “Half-way between New York and Los Angeles.  It's gonna be the next great city.  It's new.”  Tinkletoes lowers his head and mutters,  “Really new.”

“Hence the name 'New Angeles'.”   Writer Lady says.

“Exactly.”
“It's in the middle between New York and Los Angeles.”  Writer Lady repeats.

Tinkletoes nods.

“So that would put the next great city in Kansas.  No.”   She says snapping her fingers.   “Nebraska.”   That's an odd place to put a new metropolis don't you think?”

“No?”

“So, um...what's in Nebraska?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Cows and stuff?”

“In a booming metropolitan city?”

“Cows make good alternative transportation.” Tinkletoes says.

“Dinner To Go.” TP says giggling.
"On The Hoof."  Ray adds.
"As Fresh As It Gets."  Dobby chimes in.
"Oh my goodness."  Diomedes says.
"If any Nebraskans get offended, you are my witness Diomedes, it wasn't me."  Writer Lady says stirring noodles.
"Of course Mi'lady."
"I don't know where they get this stuff."
"Certainly not from you Mi'lady."
"Most certainly not."  

Around The Mixing Bowl

“Do you know what you might want to do?  When...” Tinkletoes asks, everyone is working together in the kitchen to put together Diomedes' magical meal.

“You're asking me out?  Now?”  Writer Lady asks standing over a large bowl as she mixes noodle dough.

Tinkletoes looks around the room.   Everyone: Ray, Carp, Peter, Dylan, TP, Diomedes, even Furnatche is helping.   Mural Man and House would be but they are made out of paper after all.   They aren't much help with this part.  These things happen.

“We are here doing this.  It's gonna take a while.”

“What is it people normally do?”  Writer Lady asks.  “Dinner?”

“When?”  Tinkletoes presses.

“I don't know.  What would be a good day for you?”

“Tomorrow?”   Tinkletoes asks.

“Demons, dragons, Dobby dying and returning, diarrhea and making enough homemade noodles to feed a full grown dragon.  No, I'm not moving tomorrow. At all.”

Both continue working.  Tinkletoes adding flour to the dough.  Writer Lady mixing it up.

“We could try to go out next weekend.”   Writer Lady suggests.

“Next weekend?”   He repeats.

“Yes.  The current situation should be resolved.  Everyone will have had some rest.  Diomedes might still be visiting.  He seems to be enjoying getting to know everyone.”

“I can't next weekend.  I'm busy.”  Tinkletoes says.

“You're always here.   You practically live here, how can you be busy?”

“I am.”  Tinkletoes counters.

Writer Lady looks at the self proclaimed mercenary waiting for more information.

“My buddy, Anlace, the one with the lightsaber shop?  He needs a favor.  I'll be meeting him at a con and helping out.”

“Oh.”   Writer Lady says.

“The castle's portcullis defending fair maiden's heart begins its achingly slow yet short descent back into its locked position.”   Carp narrates.

TP's giggling can be heard from the opposite side of the kitchen.  The faerie disappears reappearing next to Tinkletoes wearing a distinctly cut Cuban style suit and holding a Conga drum.  “You've got some 'splainin' to do!”  The faerie calls out, beating on the drum.

“No he doesn't.”  Writer Lady says looking at TP, she lowers her eyes, and returns to her work.

TP spins around quickly losing the suit and the drum.  When he stops spinning he is wearing the robes of a Jedi elder.   The faerie is sporting the elongated ears and distinctive green skin of Yoda.  “Yes he does.   He does.”

“He's a grown man.  He doesn't have to explain himself.”  Writer Lady says not looking up from her dough.

“Yes. I do.”   Tinkletoes says.   “Anlace has liked my lightsaber designs for a while now.  He's been after me to design a line of custom lightsabers.   I finally said I would.”

Silence fills the room as everyone waits for something deep and emotional to come out of Tinkletoes' mouth.   Something juicy.

“What made you decide to do it now?”  Writer Lady asks.

“I was going to sell my lightsabers to Anlace to pay for the replacement of your shed and lawnmower.   Anlace wouldn't take them.  He said he would rather work with me on this project.  I could keep my collection and we could both make some money.

“This weekend is the first con where your designs will be for sale?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Yep.   All of them.  He made posters and stuff.  I kinda have to be there.” Tinkletoes admits.

“So, in other words, the only reason we can't go out is that you have a prior business commitment.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I understand.  We can go out another time.”   Writer Lady says.

Tinkletoes stops working and studies Writer Lady closely.  “You're not mad?”  He asks.

“No.”

“You understand?”

“Yep.”

Tinkletoes stands in one spot not moving.   Dobby walks over to him to see if he's all right.

“What just happened?”   Tinkletoes asks looking at Dobby.

“She understands.  Mom can be very understanding about these things.”  Dobby says.

The self proclaimed mercenary is speechless.

“It's okay. I'll explain it to you some other time.”  Dobby says.  “There is an art to understanding Mom.”

“He has to put together the slide show first.”  TP giggles.   “With a slide rule and a mime.”   The faerie snaps his fingers.   “Here's your textbook.”   He says giggling.  A book as thick as “War and Peace” is floating through the air next to TP.

“I'm kind of busy here.”  Tinkletoes says.   “What's it say?”   He asks.

“Never instigate war with Writer Lady and you will always be at peace.”

Writer Lady watches the exchange.   “I'm really not that complicated.”  She says.

“You're not easy either.”  Tinkletoes counters.

“A woman's not supposed to be easy.”

“You're not.”  He says.

“You already said that.”   She points out.

“So Mom, how's that dough coming?”   Dobby asks changing the subject.

“I think we're ready for the next step.”

“Infusion Time!”  Dylan calls out.

Diomedes stops cutting a batch of noodles and puts down his knife.  Both he and TP stand on either side of Writer Lady at the mixing bowl.  The room lightens and darkens as Bugsy with the help of Diomedes and TP generate the magic that becomes part of the noodle dough.  The combined spells make the dough pulse and glimmer filling the room with a glittering light.

“It looks like this batch is ready for roll out.”  Tinkletoes announces.

Diomedes picks up the bowl emptying the dough on to a board that Ray and Carp are holding.  The board carrying the freshly enhanced dough is placed on the counter next to the dough Diomedes is working on waiting to be patted out and cut into noodles.

Writer Lady and Tinkletoes start working on another batch of noodle dough.  After several minutes she says, “If you really wanted to have dinner.   I could come out.”

“Where?”

“I don't know.  Wherever it is you're going next weekend.  I could meet you at the con.”

He looks at Writer Lady in disbelief.

“It's a long way to go.” Tinkletoes says.

“I have been known to get out of the house every now and then.”

“It's kind of a big place.”

“I'm a big girl.  I think I can handle it, unless you don't want me there.”

Sensing a trap, Tinkletoes pales slightly and answers carefully, “It's not that.  I wouldn't want you to be bored.  I don't know what I'm gonna be doing.   You could be spending a lot of time alone.”

“After all this,”  Writer Lady says gesturing to the group of people, animals, and magical creatures all stuffed into her kitchen.  “Time alone in a new place might be nice.   If I get bored, then coming home to what's familiar will be even better.”

“It sounds like you've got things all worked out.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Not really.  The details shouldn't be too difficult to handle.  If a person is committed to getting something done.”  She counters.

Tinkletoes looks back at Writer Lady, “I wouldn't have said all the things I did if I wasn't ready to take my place on the front lines.”

“Are you sure?   From where I'm standing you're not very forthcoming with your details which makes you appear a little bit unprepared.”  Writer Lady says.

“I'm ready for this.”   Tinkletoes says, pouring flour into the mixing bowl.

For a brief moment, Writer Lady's lips turn up slightly.  She looks away and goes back to her work.

Taking the opportunity to turn to Dobby, the self proclaimed mercenary, zombie slayer, and our greatest protection against an alien invasion (to hear him tell it) quietly mouths the word, “HELP” as emphatically as he can.