Enter Faerie Village

“Bubble can you see to it that the kittens float out about 150 yards and stay there until I call them back?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Yes sir.”

The kittens' bubble takes off, coming to a complete stop exactly 150 yards away and out of the direct path of floating traffic.

“They are not telling the truth about where Dobby is.” Tinkletoes says.

“I agree.” Writer Lady says. “Why? What is their motivation? As long as they don't tell us where he is then they are in trouble. Why don't those kittens want to get out of trouble?”

“That's easy.” Monitor Man says, without looking up from his note taking. “Dobby's the way cooler older brother with the keys to the family car. If they say anything, no more unsupervised fun. No more adventures.”

“Dobby hasn't been very nice.” She points out.

“This isn't about brotherly love.” Tinkletoes says. “Monitor Man's right this is about feeling closer to being Dobby's equal. It's about adventures.”

“But...” Writer Lady begins.

Tinkletoes raises his hand and holds up his index finger, “We're guys. It's what we do. You're going to have to let me take over.”

“And do what?” She asks.

“Laps.” I'm going to set the bubble down and those ankle chasers are going to actually have to move.'

Writer Lady rolls her eyes. “They're kittens. They run around all day every day and most of the night.”

“Then...the punishment is climbing.”

“Have you seen my furniture?”

“Yeah. I guess that they do that already. Would ya let me beat it out of 'em?”

She gives Tinkletoes her “Hell No” look.

“No. I just wanted to make sure.”

“I think that I might know how to find Dobby.”

“Okay.” Tinkletoes says. He looks at Monitor Man. “Girls are good at sneaky stuff.” He turns back to Writer Lady. “Watcha got?”

“It's quite simple.” She says, looking at the ceiling of her bubble. “Bubbles, take us to Dobby.”

“If the silver unicorn is extinct then why did we just see one?” Carp asks.

“That is a good question.” Black Buck says.

The pair continue making their way through the grassy meadow, their path runs parallel to the abandoned road. The rustling sound changes, Carp stops for a moment and looks at Black Buck. “Did you hear that?” He asks.

“Hear what?”

“The rustling continued after we stopped walking.”

“It was just me. I am walking on all fours.”

“This was after you stopped walking.”

Black Buck blinks and smiles. “You are still nervous about our visitor coming back.”

“If it was the silver one there would be snorting and the stamping of hooves. This was different.” Carp counters. “If you didn't hear anything then I guess we'll keep going.” He says.

The two continue walking through the meadow.

“If memory serves we should be entering a village soon.” The antelope says. “Some food and rest may be just what is needed.”

“That sounds good, Black Buck. That sounds good.”

A white unicorn appears several feet behind them. She follows the pair like a devoted companion and disappears moments later.

Less than a mile further down and over the next rise Carp sees his first Faerie village. The village begins at the edge of a forest. Unable to continue cutting through the land parallel to the road the pair move to the abandoned road. Most of the dwellings they see at first are small faerie houses nestled among the trees. Tiny pixie houses hang in the upper branches of those same trees. The faerie houses give way to more open spaces lined with thatched huts and fenced off yards with kitchen gardens. Families are in the gardens. Working together on the hoeing, weeding, and picking of their bounty. Carp and Black Buck hear the music long before they reach the center of the village which begins to appear gradually. The music is cheerful, like at a circus or festival. At first, there are a few random cottages with signs posted offering room and board. The cottages become inns, then restaurants, and eventually bakeries, cobblers, herbalists, and other businesses. Children shoot marbles and play games along the edge of the street, running in and out of a chocolate shop seemingly at whim. A young woman in a dress with a colorful and flowing skirt dances to the cheerful music at the far edge of the village while similarly dressed people clap encouraging her.

“You dirty humans are always making trouble.” Snort!

Carp turns to see where the sound has originated from. He sees a three and a half foot tall creature in full village garb. It appears to be a pig standing on its hindquarters.

“We are not trying to make trouble sir. We are entertainers.” A handsome young man stands next to the pig. “We are looking everywhere. Arienh and her sisters have been dancing for hours trying to call Leitis back.”

“Which is why unicorns should not be allowed to travel with humans.” Snort. “ They are prone to flights of fancy and make trouble for the rest of us.” Pig man says.

“We are doing everything that we can. I am sure that Leitis will return to us soon.”

“Someone in Faerie complaining about flights of fancy?” Carp whispers to Black Buck. “Aren't those a prerequisite?”

“Imaginations are a prerequisite for living happily in Faerie.” Black Buck says. “Pig people came to Faerie because they are so insufferable that no one else would have them. The natives do their best and through the generations the pig people have become less difficult but have never seemed to embrace their new home completely.” Black Buck gestures towards pig man with his head, “What this pig man does not understand is that unicorns don't embrace flights of fancy. They are magical creatures. They heal, they bring hope, and they assist those in need. If one wanders away it has located one who is in need.”

“You'd better hope that you find her before she finds her way into my apple orchard or the ogres will enjoy a fresh batch of unicorn steaks in the near future.”

Carp and Black Buck hear a snort behind them. A white unicorn appears where nothing existed before. Everyone looks at the unicorn and a smile crosses all faces. The merrymakers and the dancing girl cheer from a distance. All eyes turn to Carp and Black Buck. The pig man makes a dismissive gesture to the young man that he was talking to and walks away. The young man runs over to the unicorn offering a closed fist in greeting. The unicorn lowers her nose, sniffs, and offers her head for a gentle scratch. The young man reaches up and complies.

“It looks like you found your unicorn.” Carp says.

“Alas, she has found me.” He responds. “Aingealag, where have you been?” He asks, looking into the unicorn's right eye. “What am I going to do with you? Most importantly, where is your sister?”

Enchanted Creatures and Tall Tales

“Duck!” Carp calls.

Black Buck the Antelope drops to all fours and takes off at a full gallop.

The assassin-in-training takes cover in the grass seconds before four hooves and a silver torso pass before his eyes. Dirt flies around Carp's head as it passes over. Ground breaks where the creature's hooves land. The assassin-in-training watches as the hoofed animal runs Black Buck out of the field. The creature turns back around to face Carp, revealing red eyes. A single, black horn protrudes from its head. The unicorn bows its head, glares into Carp's eyes, and begins stamping its front hoof like an angry bull. It snorts.

Carp blinks, when he opens his eyes the unicorn is charging straight towards him at full speed. Carp curls his body, covers his head, and waits to feel horn pierce his skin. Just as the sound of hooves are at their loudest, a strange noise rings throughout the meadow. He opens one eye, then the other. He is alone. Carp stands up and looks around. The meadow is empty. He hears hooves approaching from the roadside and watches as one, then two, distinct horns appear in his field of vision. “It's okay. He's gone.” Carp calls out.

Black Buck makes his way to Carp in a matter of seconds. He sniffs the at the broken ground closely, giving Carp a once over as well. “As I was saying, you have to wait for Faerie to come to you. This smells like...unicorn. Although, I did not get a good look at our attacker.”

“It was a unicorn.” Carp confirms. “Male. Silver with red eyes.”

Black Buck nods and thinks for a moment. “I thought that you had never seen a unicorn before. How do know that it was male?”

“I watched as it jumped over my head. Some things are hard to miss.”

The antelope smiles. “Yes, yes, of course.”

“It chased you off and was charging at me when I heard strange noise. When the noise stopped the sound of the hooves disappeared. The unicorn was gone.”

The two continue their trek through the meadow.

“A silver unicorn. Isn't this exciting.” Black Buck says. “Are you sure that it was a silver unicorn?”

Carp picks a random hair off of his shirt, studies it for a moment, cups it between both hands and looks at it in the diminished light. The hair is a radiant silver that appears to collect and vibrate odd bits of daylight. He holds his hands up to the antelope.

“The luminosity is astounding. That is most definitely silver in color. I wonder if it was an illusion.”

Carp looks at Black Buck and waits for more information.

“Unicorns are white. Everything about them is pure. So pure they are a stunning and flawless white.”

“No, there were silver ones too.”

“'Were' being the important word. According to Faerie history, silver unicorns were unicorns enchanted by dark magic, enslaved, and taken into battle by ogres and dark faeries. That is why they became silver. Their hearts were no longer completely pure.”

“Which explains the aggression.”

Black Buck shakes his head. “His aggression was only fueled by his desire to run off other male creatures. His behavior is consistent with that of 'Starbhanach'.”

“Starbhanach?”

“It is Gaelic for 'rustling' or Pre-Mating Season. It is a time when male unicorns choose their territory and collect their herd before mating season begins. This is common for unicorns in the wild.”

“What's the big deal?” Carp asks.

“The silver unicorn was in existence over five thousand years ago and was never allowed to breed after their souls had been tainted by the evil of dark magic. They are extinct.”

“If Dobby is on a pirate ship, what does it look like?” Writer Lady asks.

Spots Wash looks at her and says, “Big. Big and piratey.”

“How do you know that it was 'piratey'?” Writer Lady asks.

“There were big fabric things that I wanted to climb on, there were people everywhere working and one man walking around funny saying the word 'pirate' a lot.”

“We were in the desert.” Smudge Mal says.

“It wasn't a desert that was a beach. The beach on the island.” Spots Wash says.

“When does Gilligan show up?” Tinkletoes mutters.

“Shh.” Writer Lady says. “I think that we may be getting somewhere.”

“We had to find dry land after the plane attacked.” Spots Wash explains.

“Describe the plane.” Tinkletoes says.

“It was big and black. With neat stuff of on it.”

“What kind of neat stuff?”

“Secret neat stuff.”

“It's like Batman's plane only way cooler.” Smudge Mal offers. “There were lots of people on it and a red car that flies.”

“That's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.” Monitor Man's voice softly resonates through Writer Lady's bubble. “They are describing Pirates of the Caribbean meets Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“They're telling tall tales. We're not getting anywhere.” Tinkletoes says.

“They have no reason to make something up.” Writer Lady says.

“Don't worry Food Provider. Everyone was nice to us. The guy in charge, Phil...” Spots Wash says.

Writer Lady puts a hand to her forehead and turns her head away for a moment.

Tinkletoes is looking at Writer Lady. Writer Lady is waiting for a hole in the floor of the bubble to open so she can plummet into oblivion. Monitor Man has procured a pen and paper. He's writing everything down. Writer Lady can hear Monitor Man mutter, “Now all we need to do is to fit in some Ninja Zombies. Summer blockbuster, here we come.”

What They Didn't See Coming

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes. “I have to admit that I did not see this coming.”

“I'm the man.” Monitor Man cries. “I'm the man!”

“I wonder...” Tinkletoes says thoughtfully, “do you think that the whole running for second-in-command of an entire country is too much pressure.”

“You might have started out with the upper paw but I turned it around.” Monitor Man continues.

“Let's see...a world famous actor who takes a trip in pursuit of a new project gets roped into running for one of the highest political positions in the country only to get kidnapped, transported to another dimension and find himself being hunted down in a fantastic game of cat and mouse. I think that this has been a tougher day than most. Even for him.”

“This is Monitor Man on a bad day?” Tinkletoes asks.

Monitor Man is doing a strange combination of posturing, dancing, and casting insults at the kittens (okay...flipping them the...um...bird).

“Why don't you climb into our bubble and say that?” Smudge Mal challenges.

“Any time.” Monitor Man answers. One of his hands begins pushing through the wall of his bubble.

“Bubble...if you would be so kind.” Writer Lady says. A honk echoes through the meadow getting everyone's attention. “Okay. Enough! I would like to declare this hunt over. With your permission Tinkletoes I would like to declare Smudge Mal and Spots Wash capable protectors.”

Tinkletoes nods.

“I would also like to declare Monitor Man a capable adversary. He stood up when the chips were down and turned the situation around.”

“Say it...say it...say it.” Monitor Man's whispers gently echo inside Writer Lady's bubble. “He is the man.” She announces. “Now let's go home.”

“But Dobby said...” Spots Wash begins to argue.

“Don't you worry about what Dobby said Spotsy. I'm going to be having a few words with Dobby.”

“I'm glad that's over.” Spots Wash says to Smudge Mal. “I wonder if we can get some food.”

“Ask.” Smudge Mal says.

Spots Wash looks at Writer Lady. “Could we have some food? Now?”

“Of course. You two must be getting awfully hungry. I'll get each of you a nice big bowl of food as soon as we get home. We'll have to pick up Dobby on our way out. Which way is home?”

Both kittens shrug.

“Don't you know where we are?” Writer Lady asks.

“What do you think we are? Dogs?” Smudge Mal asks.

“No. But you are soldiers.” Monitor Man says.  He has calmed considerably and speaks quietly, with purpose. “A good soldier knows his surroundings. Think about it. Think about where you've been. Picture it in your mind. Describe it. Then tell us where we are.”

Tinkletoes looks at Monitor Man. “I didn't know you served.”

“I didn't. I've read for a few war movies.”

“That was really good. I don't remember ever hearing that speech.” Writer Lady says.

“You didn't. I haven't spoken those words since my audition.”

“You didn't get the part?”

“They decided to cut that scene during pre-production. Those were the only lines I had. No scene, no lines. No lines, no job.”

“They were good lines.” Writer Lady says as she, Monitor Man, and Tinkletoes watch as Smudge Mal and Spots Wash huddle to discuss where they had been. Several minutes pass and Smudge Mal announces. “We remember where we left Dobby.”

“In the desert.”

“Sailing on a pirate ship.”

Both kittens share at the same time.

“No he wasn't.” Smudge Mal says.

“Yes. He was. You were getting sea sick.” Spots Wash says.

“It's like two people witnessing the same car crash from opposite angles and one of them has the sun in their eyes.” Writer Lady says.

“We may never get a straight answer.” Tinkletoes agrees.

Carp and Black Buck the Antelope walk through the grasses of a vast meadow along the edges of what used to be the road.

“What does this Monitor Man look like?” Black Buck asks.

“Tall, handsome, great butt.” Carp answers.

“What makes him stand out amongst the other humans?”

“Tall, handsome, great butt.”

Black Buck smiles and blinks in amusement. The antelope looks behind Carp and stops walking. “Stop.” He says looking at Carp. “Look behind you.”

Carp stops walking and looks behind him. The meadow grasses are tall, covering Carp's posterior, the tips stopping halfway up the assassin in training's back. “Oh.”

“Unless your Monitor Man is seven feet tall we aren't going to get a good look at his buttocks.” Black Buck points out. “Maybe you can remember what he was wearing when you last saw him.”

Carp shakes his head.

“Perhaps Tinkletoes has found Monitor Man already.” Black Buck offers.

“That would be the way of things.” Carp says. “I never have any fun.” He sighs. “Did you know that I was the one who encouraged Tinkletoes to search Faerie for Monitor Man? I read about Faerie and the creatures that inhabit it when I was a child. I'm the one with the creative mind. The romantic heart. I was a romance writer. My last novel as Jenny Love before I started my serious work was going to be a sweeping saga. A love story for the ages between a Faerie king's half-human son and a pixie. It was going to be set in Faerie.” Carp looks at his surroundings, his eyes memorizing every blade of grass, flower, and random pebble on the deteriorating road. “Here I am, the one destined to write a great work of art about this place and the only one not to have an adventure.” Carp releases another sigh. This one of a tired, disheartened soul.

Black Buck listens patiently. “In your research did you never read about Faerie's felonious nature?”

“I thought that Faerie didn't have set laws.”

“Not felonious as in committing a felony. Perhaps you do not have a word for it. I meant feline in nature. Many walk through Faerie, but to encounter the true nature of this dimension you must treat it like a cat. You must wait for it to come to you.” Black Buck says. “Her creatures choose who they want to interact with and when.”

“Here we are with not so much as a pixie flying around.”

“There are many reasons pixies will deem an area uninteresting.”

“Such as?”

“Pixie fleas, killer mosquitoes, ogre infestation, dragon mating season, demon training, dungeon collapse.”

“Dungeon collapse?” Carp asks. “The dungeon is already in the bottom reaches of the castle.”

“If the foundation bricks were enchanted by drunken pixies...”

There is a rustling in the grass behind them.

Carp stops walking and listens. He turns his head twenty degrees to the east. The hair on the back of his neck stands up.

“I remember the first time I heard about a dungeon collapse...”

“Shhh...”

Black Buck stops talking and listens.

“We're being watched.” Carp says. “When I say 'Duck' then get down.”

Black Buck nods.

Both listen closely. A hoof strikes the ground once, then twice. Four hooves hit the ground at full stride, running straight towards them.

Things Get Turned Around

“You okay?” Writer Lady asks.

“Yeah. Um...yeah. These things whip around too much.” Tinkletoes says, looking around the inside of his bubble. “I can hear you.”

“It's a magical communications system. I thought that I wanted to ask you if you were all right so the communications system was activated.”

Tinkletoes' bubble shifts as a bubble full of field mice bump into him. It turns adjusting its course away from the cluster and takes off disappearing into the horizon. The self-proclaimed mercenary closes his eyes. “I wonder if the little weirdos came up with something to make everything stop spinning.”

There is a loud clicking noise and a pair of mechanical arms drop down into Tinkletoes' bubble. First the arms unfold, then a pair of hands, fingers extending. The index finger of each hand is covered with a thick, glowing goo. The fingers drop down to Tinkletoes' head, reaching in and giving the self-proclaimed mercenary a wet willy in each ear. He makes a face. The now bare fingers close into into the mechanical hands, fold back into the arms, disappearing as they tuck themselves into walls of the bubble.

A feminine voice says, “Thank you for using, 'No More Puke Balance Goo'. Enjoy your ride.”

“It looks like they do.” Writer Lady says smiling.

Tinkletoes closes his eyes for brief moment and opens them.

“Better?” She asks.

“Better.”

“I'm glad that we found you here. We're having a problem. I think that you're the solution.”

“Really?” Tinkletoes asks with a grin.

“There are two other bubbles here. One of them carries Smudge Mal and Spots Wash. The other Monitor Man. Could the bubbles move so that we can all see each other. Please?” Writer Lady asks the inside of her bubble.

The bubbles shift forming an impromptu circle. Both kittens remove their hats and bow their heads.

“Sir.” Smudge Mal says.

“Big Sir.” Spots Wash says.

Tinkletoes nods. “I see that your mom finally got you two properly outfitted. Looks good.”

Both kittens smile. Spots Wash holds up his Super Soaker proudly.

Tinkletoes looks at Monitor Man in his t-shirt with a target sign on it and matching khakis.

“Could you turn around?” Writer Lady asks.

Monitor Man does not move.

“Monitor Man?” She asks again.

“Is this really necessary?”

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man without saying a word.

Monitor Man's face reddens as he slowly turns around. The words, “Your Ass Is Mine” show up clear as day across his backside.

“That's getting to the butt of the problem.” Tinkletoes says, grinning.

“We both know that Monitor Man disappeared from the house. As it turns out, he was kidnapped and transported to Faerie. Spots Wash and Smudge Mal are on a mission to capture Monitor Man. They told me that they're doing this to prove that they're capable of protecting our future president—Tinkletoes.” Writer Lady says.

“Great.”

“Not great.”

“They're trying to kill me.” Monitor Man says.

“Only if you don't come quietly.” Spots Wash says looking at Monitor Man.

“See. It's only if you don't go quietly.” Tinkletoes says.

“What happens if he doesn't go quietly?” Writer Lady asks.

“We'll take him any way we can.” Smudge Mal says. “We get extra points for transporting him if he doesn't cooperate.” The kitten says, grinning.

“That would be a big deal.” Tinkletoes says.

Monitor Man looks at the self-proclaimed mercenary.

“That's a lot of dead weight. I weigh about 250. What do you weigh, 200?” Tinkletoes asks.

“One eighty...five.” Monitor Man says.

“Only 185? Because it looks like you weigh more.” He says.

“I'm shorter than you are.” Monitor Man responds.

“Still...” Writer Lady says, “...two kittens who maybe weigh eight pounds between them and have no opposable thumbs schlepping 185 pounds of dead weight through Faerie and back home. It defies the laws of physics. They should get a few more points for doing something like that.”

“Could we stop saying “dead”...please?” Monitor Man looks at Writer Lady. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

“Yours. Who else's side would I be on?” She asks.

“If you are on my side would you please be on MY side?”

Nodding, Writer Lady says, “Although these two kittens undertaking such a challenge and getting this far is impressive, there is a major problem with this entire mission.”

Everyone looks at Writer Lady and listens.

She looks at Tinkletoes and says, “Monitor Man is your running mate. He can't help you win if he's...”

Monitor Man coughs loudly.

“...if he is captured. You're not loved by everyone Tinkletoes. Monitor Man is. You need Monitor Man to continue running with you. You need him to help you win this election.”

Tinkletoes listens, thinking for a few moments and says, “He does have a majority of the female votes, him being an actor and all.”

“He also has the support of the magical community. I remember TP talking about how the magical communities of Faerie have influenced many aspects of our world including our politics. The successful presidents have always had the support of the creatures of Faerie.”

Tinkletoes looks from Writer Lady to Monitor Man who slowly nods in agreement.

“Nixon...” she continues, “Nixon lost the support of most of Faerie, specifically, the Pixie community before his second term. Do you want to be another Nixon?”

“No.” He answers.

“Clearly you need Monitor Man.”

“Yeah.” Tinkletoes admits grudgingly. He looks at the kittens. “No more actor hunting.”

“No-o-o.” Smudge Mal and Spots Wash's protests end with a groan.

“Yes. It ends now.” Tinkletoes says.

“O-kay. Can we keep the clothes and the Super Soaker?” Spots Wash asks.

Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady who smiles, quietly points to the water gun and shakes her head. “You can keep the clothes but not the other gear.”

The kittens look at each other.

“I want one thing.” Smudge Mal says. “Credit for how far we got. We traveled to another dimension and successfully tracked our target. We deserve credit for the work. We deserve to have it taken into account when you become president.”

“No. You didn't catch me.” Monitor Man says, “Besides, we found the bubbles, turned back and caught you tracking us. If anyone hunted anyone successfully it was us.” He says gesturing to Writer Lady. “We should get the credit.”

The kittens begin protesting Monitor Man's argument.

“I did not see this one coming. Did you?” Tinkletoes asks looking at Writer Lady.

Coming Together

“Wait.” House says. “What are you doing?”

Damon continues erasing. “No change House. Change house. Move door.”

“So.”

“No move door. Moving door closes bridge. Moving door is bad.” Damon says as he finishes cleaning off the white board.

“This is eloquent?” House asks looking at Mural Man. “No one can stop me from changing my appearance when I want to.”

“Duuude...what Damon is trying to say is that if you change yourself, you'll have to close the bridge during construction. We don't know when anyone is coming back. We need to wait and keep things open man.” Ray says.

“First of all.” House says. “I'm not a man. I'm me. I'm the house. If I don't do this now I'll never get a makeover. Do you have any idea how full this place is getting? I feel bloated. All the time. I need to update my looks regularly. I'm independent. When you're independent and a big deal you have to keep upgrading. I need this makeover. Little Miss Priss is too inflexible to agree to my changes. I'll never get anything if I have to wait for her.” A high pitched cry resonates through the bonus room.

The room grows silent.

“Was that a whine?” Mural Man asks.

“No...” House says. “...maybe.”

Mural Man says, “I love you. I see how important this is to you so how about no makeover for now? You can plan all that you want," Mural Man says, looking at Damon then returning his gaze to House, "but don't do anything. I think that Ray, TP, and Damon will agree with me when I say that we will do everything that we can to help you get an expansion after everyone returns from Faerie safely.”

House looks around the room. Everyone nods their agreement. 

 House nods.  

“We need to find out who is hunting me.” Monitor Man says.

The bubbles gain altitude, turning and speeding back the way that they came. They circle around a bubble just as it is lifting off of the ground. It continues rising then stops. All three bubbles hover together. Monitor Man looks at the faces of his pursuers. He finds himself face to face with Smudge Mal and Spots Wash. Both kittens are completely decked out in hunting gear. Monitor Man studies the two kittens.

“Hey. Are you two trying to kill me?”

There is no answer.  Spots Wash shifts a little hiding his super soaker water gun.

“Hey!” Monitor Man's yells can be heard through both bubble's perimeters. He sees Writer Lady's bubble floating on the far side of the kittens. “They're trying to kill me. Your kittens are trying to kill me!” His voice rings through the interior of her bubble as he looks at Writer Lady.

“Spots! Smudge!” Writer Lady says, scolding her two young charges. The kittens look at each other. Their eyes grow wide. Spots swallows and lowers his head as both face Food Provider a.k.a. Writer Lady a.k.a. Mom.

Smudge Mal looks at Writer Lady and holds her stare.

“What do you two have to say for yourselves?” She asks, looking from a stricken Spots Wash to an undaunted Smudge Mal. “Well?”

“Smudge Mal. Browncoat. Secret Service Agent Class 1.”

“And?”

“I am a Browncoat on a mission. I do not have to explain myself.” Smudge Mal responds.

“What mission?”

“Smudge Mal. Browncoat. Secret Service Agent Class 1.” He repeats.

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man who is standing with his arms crossed in front of him looking at her expectantly. She looks at the kittens. “If you two don't tell me what's going on...there will be repercussions.”

“Repercussions?” Spots Wash whispers. He looks at his older brother. “Did you hear that? Repercussions. That means bad things. I don't like bad things.”

“We are Browncoats. We have grit. Browncoats aren't scared of bad things.” Smudge Mal says.

“What if she doesn't love us any more?”

“Look at the way she's looking at you.” Smudge Mal whispers. “The disappointed eyes, the sad expression. Not possible.”

“What if she takes our food away?” Spots Wash asks.

“Once again look at her face. Not possible.”

“What if she takes away our toys?”

“We have to be tough about this.” Smudge Mal says. “If we tell her what's going on now then she'll have us spilling our guts all the time.”

“What if she takes away our toy mice?” Spots Wash asks. “What if you have to spend your days without Mousy?”

Smudge Mal looks at the scenery between his combat boots, the lush meadow clearly visible through the bubble's protective layer. “It's a hard thing. Sometimes tough guys have to do hard things.”

“You love Mousy. You take him everywhere...to bed, to the water bowl, to the litter box. You bite us if we try to take him from you.”

“I love Mousy. I love the mission more. A Browncoat does not relent.” Smudge Mal says, tightening his jaw and quickly looking away.

“That's your final word?” Writer Lady asks.

“That's my final word.” Smudge Mal answers, looking at Writer Lady.

“Very well.” She says. “When we get home...”

Smudge Mal's eyes begin to tear.

“Wait...” Spots Wash says. “...don't take Mousy away. Smudge Mal isn't trying to be bad. Food Provider, we came to Faerie to prove ourselves. We are on this mission to prove ourselves worthy of protecting our future President---Tinkletoes.”

A strange noise grows louder. All beings kitten and human alike watch as a large object races towards them braking moments before impact. The bubble arrives stopping suddenly and thrusting its only passenger against its inner wall. The person's face temporarily rearranged into something alien.

“What the...?” Tinkletoes asks.

Riding The Bubble

   Writer Lady  stands in front of the other bubble and studies it.  Finding what looks like the same spot Monitor Man has she places her hand on the bubble’s outside.  The bubble warms and begins to glow.  Monitor Man looks over and studies her progress.  “Only use a little pressure.”

 She adjusts the pressure that she is using.

 “A little less…a little less… be gentle.”  He says.  He watches as she adjusts pressure.  “Do you have any concept of how to use a soft touch?”

  “Um…yeah?”  Writer Lady eases up a little.

  “You need to ease up.” 

  “I just did.”

 “Ease up a bit more.”

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man.   “It doesn’t like me.”  She says.

 “Don’t be silly just ease up.”  Monitor Man eases into his bubble even more.  “Relax.”

Writer Lady wiggles around a bit in an effort to look relaxed.  When the bubble begins to respond she does begin to relax.

  “Keep relaxing.”  Monitor Man encourages.  “That’s good.  Step forward.”

 The bubble softens even more.  Soon Writer Lady’s hand and wrist are inside the bubble.  The bubble continues making its way up the length of her arm.

“See?  It’s working.  Stay relaxed and let the bubble do the work.”

A slit lights up along the outside of the bubble beginning at Writer Lady’s arm and working its way down.  “What do I do now?”  Writer Lady asks.  There is no sound.  “Monitor Man.   Monitor Man?”  Writer Lady looks at the other bubble.  Monitor Man is safely inside.  “I guess these things are sound proof.”   She says looking at Monitor Man.  He smiles and gives her the thumbs up, encouraging her to continue entering her bubble.    Writer Lady studies the slit and eases her way forward a couple of inches.  The bubble continues forward closing the distance between them.  Writer Lady has one arm up to her shoulder and a half a leg inside when Monitor Man’s bubble begins to rise from the ground.  “Oh no you don’t.”  She says glaring at his bubble.

“No…no…no.”  Monitor Man says, the bubble he is occupying continues rising.   “We are waiting for Writer Lady.”  The bubble continues rising.  He looks down at Writer Lady, she is almost inside of her bubble. “Stop.”  Monitor Man yells, the bubble stops rising and floats in a holding pattern.  “Thank you.” 

  The moment that Writer Lady makes it inside her own bubble Monitor Man’s takes off at full speed.  She is jostled around as hers takes off immediately  in pursuit.  An odd noise surrounds.  “What is that?”

  “It’s some sort of communications system.  We can talk to each other.”  Monitor Man’s voice resonates throughout her bubble.

“Hello.”  He says.

“Hello,”  Writer Lady says, looking around the bubble as she speaks, unsure of the location of her bubble’s microphone.

“It’s okay.  I can hear you.  There’s no need to speak so loudly.” 

“What?  Why?  How?”  Writer Lady asks.

“I don’t know.  I said that I wanted to talk to you, I heard a beep and there you were.” 

“Isn’t the bubble organic?  What about biology?  The physiology of organic life?  The laws of physics?” 

“I don’t know.  Maybe it’s because we’re in Faerie.  Maybe it occurs naturally here.”

The bubbles rose and fell naturally over the landscape.  First giving them views of fields of wildflowers and then skimming over water.  Writer Lady sees the mountains growing in the horizon. “Where are we going?”  She asks.

“Good question.” 

 “I talked to the bearded guy and I know what to do.”  Smudge Mal says, looking out at the empty sky in front of them.  “Where’s Monitor Man?”  He asks.

 “He took off.”  Spots Wash says.

 “It’s okay little brother.  That Santa guy says that after you get inside the bubble all you have to do is think about your destination, picture it, or say it. All we will have to do is say that we want to find Monitor Man and the bubble should head right for him.”

 “There’s something else. “

Smudge Mal looks at Spots Wash and waits.

 “I saw the person with Monitor Man.” 

“Who is our second contestant?”  Smudge Mal asks.

“It’s a woman.”

“He finds girls everywhere.” 

 “The woman looked a lot like Food Provider.”

“How much like Food Provider?”

“Her clothes looked different.”  Spots Wash says.

“Anything else?”

“No just her clothes.”

“Food Provider is with Monitor Man in Faerie.  We are in Faerie to take Monitor Man prisoner.  Do you know what this means?”

Spots Wash does not answer.

“Extra points.  Let’s get this bubble flying.” 

“Sending a text.  You think it comes down to sending a text?”  Paige demands.

Peter, Dylan, and Diomedes all stop what they are doing and look at Paige.  They look at each other. 

“Yeah.  Why wouldn’t it?”  Peter asks.

“Keeping this place running is a big responsibility.  Huge.”  Paige says, pacing the floor.  “Who is going to send out bill payments,  keep Dylan out of trouble, keep food in the house?  Who is going to keep TP from playing with Tinkletoes’ weapons?  What about House?” 

Peter and Dylan look at each other.  “What about House?”

She wants a makeover.  She has Mural Man, Ray, and TP in the bonus room for a planning meeting as we speak. 

“TP is out of trouble.”  Peter says.  “Everything is fine.” 

“I have to explain everything don’t I?  House is not a woman, she’s a house.  When she gets a makeover it means that the house will be changed.   Writer Lady told us to keep things the way that they have always been.  If House gets her way Writer Lady’s instructions will not be followed.  What if Writer Lady gets mad at us all?   What if she sends us away?” 

“I want new fixtures, floors,  skylights, three more bedrooms, a ballroom. Clean lines, no more of this traditional crap.”  House smiles as she stands at the big white board.  “The only way that this is going to work is…another floor.  We need a second floor.”  House sighs contentedly, admiring her work.

“That is very ambitious.”  Mural Man says,  standing close to House.  “Very you.” 

Damon wanders in and studies the board.  He leans in close.  The demon reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rag.  He begins erasing. 

Enchanted Letters and Kittens On The Prowl

“Thank you Damon.” Diomedes says, accepting the letter. It is wrapped in a heavy parchment envelope and has been secured with a wax seal. The seal pulsates with a strange pink glow.

Dylan climbs up on to the couch to get a closer look. “It's glowing,” the tow haired boy says.

Peter and Paige make their way to Diomedes' other side to inspect it. Furnatche runs over to Diomedes and whimpers until someone picks him up. The baby dragon sniffs at the envelope intensely and begins to purr. His fur begins to glow in the same pattern as the wax seal.

“I didn't know that you could do that.” Dylan says reaching out to pet Furnatche.

“He is a magical creature. He is simply recognizing the power of other magical creatures.” The seven foot dragon says.

“He doesn't glow for you.” The four year-old points out.

Diomedes smiles gently. “The magic of Faerie travels along a wide range of wavelengths. Clearly, I am from a different part of Faerie than Furnatche is. This letter must have come from a place very close to Furnatche's home.”

Dylan looks down at Furnatche and says, “Maybe it's for you.”

“Let's see, shall we?” Diomedes suggests, breaking the seal on the letter, and opening it.

Diomedes,

If you are reading this something has gone horribly wrong. That last sentence sounds a bit clichéd doesn't it? Unfortunately it is the truth. Something has gone wrong. Well, I'm stuck, in Faerie. I don't know that I'm stuck but I am in Faerie and since it is a magical place existing in another dimension and I don't know how to get back home...I'm stuck. I am having trouble recalling many of the specifics of life in Faerie which puts me at a loss of what to do next. Usually someone ends up here and has some kind of fantastic adventure. I have to admit that it has been an adventure so far. Let me get you up to speed.

When we discovered that the house had grown too quiet and parted ways to search for the kittens TP told me that he knew where all of the cats were and he would lead me to them. I could tell from the calls traveling throughout the house that they could not be found. I decided to follow his directions keeping in mind that he is TP and usually up to something. Most definitely up to something this time. I followed his directions to stand in my closet, turn around five times fast, and sing “Dark Horse” by Katy Perry. He promised me cheese puffs and entrance to Faerie. I did it. It was scary, painful to my ears, and lasted way too long. I saw a strange light in the upper corner of the closet. There might be video. If there is please destroy it. Don't watch it if you want to keep your ability to hear...anything. Seriously.

I ended up in a part of Faerie that is amazing. It looks exactly the way I always pictured it. A place of lush, green meadows full of wildflowers, cottages, idyllic villages. It was idyllic until I met the ogre. He cornered me at the entrance to an alley behind the town square. He kept telling me how good I smelled and how I reminded him of a baker he'd had for dinner once upon a time. I asked him if the baker was the guest or the entrée. Damon found me before the ogre had a chance to answer. He has become quite eloquent since we last met.

The point is that Damon got me back on track. Neither one of us are quite sure where that track leads so I left this note with Damon and sent him back the way I came hoping that he would find his way back to you.

I don't know how long I will be gone. Keep things going the way that they have always been for now. Try not to arouse suspicion. Text my folks from time to time so that they don't stop by to see if anything is wrong. I hope to return soon. If too much time passes and the cats return they are going to have to go live with Grandma for a while. Sorry Dobby Cat these things happen. I love you all. Be safe. Take care of each other.

Love,

Writer Lady

“Duuude...this is serious.” Ray says, looking at Damon.

The demon nods his head, toilet paper flutters with each nod.

“There is no need to worry.” Diomedes says reassuringly. “We just need to make sure that we text Grandma. If someone could just tell me, what is a text?”

Everyone looks at each other.

Dylan rolls his eyes and says, “It's okay. I've got this.”

“It looks like he's going to try using one of those flying bubble things.” Spots Wash says.

“He's looking for a way in.” Smudge Mal continues, finishing his brother's thought. “We need to find one of the those bubbles too.”

A bubble passes overhead landing several yards behind them. The kittens watch as the bubble's passenger disembarks. He is a portly elf with a long white beard, wearing shorts and a brightly colored shirt. A long red sleeve trimmed with white fur is tumbling out of a bag that the elf is carrying.

“Wait here. Watch and remember where that bubble goes. I'll be right back.” Smudge Mal says.

Spots Wash watches as Monitor Man walks around the bubble searching for an entrance. Monitor Man starts feeling along the outside of the bubble. His hand stops when the surface of the bubble starts to change color. He smiles. His hand begins pushing through the bubble's perimeter.

“Hey.”

Spots hears him call out.

“Hey!”

The kitten listens as someone approaches and stands on Monitor Man's far side outside Spots' line of sight.

“Something is happening.” Monitor Man says.

Spots listens for an answer from their target's unknown traveling companion. A hawk flies overhead screeching, and drowning out all other discernible sounds.

“I placed my hand on the surface of the bubble, it started glowing, and after a few seconds I was able to push my way through...or maybe the bubble is pulling me in. I can't tell. Try it.” He says. “I'll wait for you.”

At the same time more and more of Monitor Man's arm enters the bubble.

“Hurry.”

A slit glows along the outside of the bubble traveling down from where his arm has entered. A tip of one foot begins edging towards the slit.

“Things are starting to speed up here. Hurry.”

Getting Sucked In

“Duuuude...what are you doing in the bathroom?” Ray asks. He turns and looks at the sea of faces watching him curiously. He smiles. Ray turns back to the bathroom and enters. His voice fades as he says, “Long time no see man,” and closes the door behind him. He emerges minutes later with Damon following close behind. The demon has toilet paper hanging off of both horns and his mouth is coated in mauve lipstick. He is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that reads “Visit Faerie. Enchantment Awaits.” Damon follows Ray into the living room eagerly, smiling as he looks around at all of the familiar faces. His eyes stop. His smile disappears. The demon walks straight to Diomedes and hands him an envelope.

Writer Lady and Monitor Man keep low. They make their way through the rain forest using every caution. After verifying that they have lost their pursuers, the two find their way to the bubble landing site. Hiding behind...what else? Trees, the pair watch as a family of platypus leave their abandoned bubbles and head into a stand of trees in the distance. The bubbles darken slightly and the noise level lowers to a quiet hum.

“What's happening?” Monitor Man asks.

“I think that they may be shutting down. No...wait...the bubbles are still humming. They must be in quiet mode? Why?” She responds.

“They're waiting for new passengers.” He suggests.

Writer Lady and Monitor Man look at the empty bubble, look at each other, and smile. Each make their way to a bubble.

“How do we get inside?” He asks.

“I don't know.”

Something rustles among the trees. Both look in the direction of the sound. A lioness emerges from the shadows with a house cat following close behind.

“Can't we ride the bubbles Mom?” The cat asks.

“Not this time dear. We need to get home. Your father is already on his way back from the canned fish convention.”

“If we take bubbles won't we get there faster?”

“We're practically home now.”

“Mo-om.” The cat whines.

“Maybe next time dear.”

“Mom...I promise not to break another one.” He says, trying again.

“You have better control of your claws?” The lioness asks.

“I practice every day. I remember what Dad said too, 'If you knead you can't fly with speed'.”

“That's very good.”

“Let me show you.” The house cat presses.

“Next time.”

“Pleeeaase?”

The lioness smiles, she blinks, and answers patiently. “Next time.”

“O...kay.”

“A lioness and a house cat.” Monitor Man says, watching as they continue their journey.

“Yeah.” Writer Lady says, returning to the task at hand.

“Did you hear me? A lioness and a house cat?”

“Faerie? We're in Faerie. We are going to see things like that. Can you help me get one of these bubbles moving or do you need to be shot at before motivation kicks in?” Writer Lady asks, crossing her arms.

“Asks the cranky woman.”

“Excuse me.” She says, pointing to the target on the front of his t-shirt. “I am traveling in another dimension with a moving target and an unknown assailant. It makes a woman cranky.”

There's a rustling noise in the trees. Both Writer Lady and Monitor Man look in the direction the sound originated.

A second louder sound echoes through the open expanse. An orange monkey screeches as it travels through nearby branches.

“Maybe now is a good time to get going. We're too visible here.” Monitor Man says.

“Ya think?”

Spots Wash looks through the trees and watches Monitor Man as his eyes follow the lioness and house cat walking past him. He starts talking the moment that he senses Smudge Mal behind him.

“Am I still your useless little brother? I found him.”

Smudge Mal looks at what Spots Wash is looking at. “I'll be...”

“darned.” Spots says finishing his brother's sentence.

“Finally...things are gonna get interesting.”

“Help!” Carp calls into the vastness that is Faerie.

“Here comes another one.” Tinkletoes says. “Be more aggressive.”

“Remember that in Faerie everything can sense your emotions and can reject you at any time because of them.” Black Buck coaches.

A bubble zips across the meadow, skirting over grasses and flowers.

“Here it comes.” Black Buck says.

“Take control.” Tinkletoes says, looking at Carp. “You're a soldier.”

Carp looks at Tinkletoes and nods. Facing the bubble, he raises both hands indicating that he is the one in need of a ride. The bubble floats to Carp, immediately reversing within inches of the self-trained assassin.

Carp looks at Tinkletoes with uncertainty.

“I won't let you fail.” Tinkletoes says, turning to the bubble. “Hey!” He yells. The bubble pauses its retreat.

Black Buck and Carp look at each other.

“Come on.” Tinkletoes says, looking at Carp.

Carp makes his way over to Tinkletoes and the bubble. He reaches out and bubble starts backing away.

Tinkletoes walks around the back of the bubble stopping behind it. The bubble stops moving.

“Try again.” Tinkletoes says.

Carp raises his hand again, as the bubble floats back Tinkletoes stops it with his own hand. The spot where Tinkletoes' hand meets the surface turns green. The bubble begins warming.

“I have seen that before.” Black Buck says.

As the bubble warms, Tinkletoes' hand pushes its way through the bubble's membrane.

The bubble moves closer. Slowly, more and more of Tinkletoes is surrounded by the sphere.

“Whoa.” Tinkletoes says. “Slow down. I'm not getting inside. Carp is.”

The bubble continues inching its way forward engulfing the self-proclaimed mercenary's arm to his shoulder.

“I said, Whoa.”

The bubble glows, turning red. It begins to back up. Beep...beep...beep...

“Hey...Hey!” Tinkletoes yells.

The bubble stops.

Tinkletoes looks at Carp and Black Buck, standing tall and muscular with a floating bubble half engulfing one forearm.

“I think that the bubble disagrees.” Black Buck says.

“I didn't ask the damn thing what it wanted.” He responds glaring at the bubble. Tinkletoes looks at Carp. “You...get over here.”

Carp makes his way to Tinkletoes.

“Get in.” Tinkletoes says.

The bubble begins floating back and forth.

Carp reaches up to steady the bubble. A sheet of bright light travels along the outside of the bubble illuminating and electrifying its surface. “Ouch.” Carp says removing his hands.

The light disappears. The bubble adjusts its position inching closer and closer to Tinkletoes. There is a loud sucking sound. The self-proclaimed mercenary is surrounded.

“I have never seen that before.” Black Buck says.