Making Progress

Bugsy jumps up and down within the confines of Diomedes' cavernous mouth.

“Your fae-rie near-ly killed me. What are you go-ing to do a-bout it?” Diomedes says slowly.

“What was that?” House asks.

“Bugsy thinks that you might have hearing or comprehension difficulties. He asked me to speak slowly.” Diomedes answers.

“Excuse me?” House exclaims. “Did you hear that darling? Did you hear what the dragon said to me?”

Mural Man swallows nervously.

Tinkletoes laughs quietly. “House is getting offended because the little bug thinks she's not too bright.” He says to Dobby grinning, “It's okay to laugh Dobby, it's pretty funny.”

“Actually sir, he was referring to the entire group.” Diomedes explains.

“If we're so stupid then why has he been waiting for us to save him?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Because the dragon can't be cured and the mess can't be cleaned up without magic, doofus.” Diomedes answers.

“Them's fighting words you little....virus.” Tinkletoes says staring at Bugsy.

“You will help me.” He says staring back.

“What if I don't?” Tinkletoes asks.

“I am a stomach bug. I become a virus within any non-magical being. I will invade your body and take control of your digestive system, rendering you incapable of eating or drinking. Indefinitely.”

“What if I'm okay with that? Maybe I like to puke.” Tinkletoes says.

“Indefinitely.” Is reiterated. “I can go up to a week without food or water. Can you?” Diomedes asks.

“Let's find out.” Tinkletoes says.

“My carpets. My floors.” House groans.

"House, relax." Mural Man says turning his attention to Bugsy. “Diomedes is sick. He's miserable. House is a mess. We have been trying to help but we don't know what we're up against. You're trying to get through this alone and losing. We have a common cause.” Mural Man points out. “We need to be working together.”

“He's right. We need to stop arguing, work together, and fix this.” Tinkletoes says.

“If you know what's causing this problem Bugsy things can be resolved.” Dobby adds. “Will you work with us?” He asks.

Bugsy paces across the tip of Diomedes' tongue in thought. The bug stops and looks at Tinkletoes shaking his fist, he makes a rude gesture then returns to his pacing.

“He's going to say 'yes'.” Tinkletoes whispers to Dobby and Mural Man. Both look at him doubtfully.

“He looks angry.” Mural Man observes.

“Everyone gets mad at me sooner or later. I'm still around. Trust me. He's gonna say 'yes'.”

Bugsy stops pacing, takes his authoritative stance, and looks at the group. The stomach bug nods.

“For my sake and in the interest of ending the battle he has been fighting in my belly Bugsy agrees to work with you. He says he will tell you everything he knows.” Diomedes says.

“Let the de-briefing begin.” Tinkletoes says grinning.

“TP, we know you used magic to give the cheese balls their speed. All we need to know is how to turn off the spell so we can calm Diomedes' diarrhea.” Writer Lady says peeking into the cricket cage and trying to look pitiful.

TP is in the far corner of the cage, relaxing in his own personal hot tub. “No.” He says.

“If you help I'll let you out of the cage.” Writer Lady says.

“No.”

“Think about Diomedes. How bad he feels, how uncomfortable he must be.” She says.

“Faeries don't get sick. TP always feels good.”

“I know how it feels.” Ray says. “Diarrhea's the worst. Come on man, help him out.”

TP looks up thoughtfully. “TP will not help because TP cannot help.”

Writer Lady and Ray look at TP, waiting for more information.

“Faeries don't get sick. There is no medicine.” He says.

“No medicine?” Writer Lady asks.

TP shakes his head.

“In all of Faerie?”

“We don't need faerie medicine we need dragon medicine.” Ray points out.

“What about dragon medicine or magical animal medicine?” Writer Lady asks.

TP shakes his head.

“Citizens of Faerie cannot be sick in Faerie. Diomedes is sick here. He needs your medicine.”

“When faerie dust or magicus pulvus is conjured the strength, its ability to be altered, as well as the length of time it is effective bears largely on the age and power of the faerie that conjured, and invoked the spells on the dust to begin with,” Bugsy explains. Diomedes and Mural Man are standing next to each other. Having covered his surface with non-stick spray, Diomedes is using Mural Man as a dry erase board.

Dobby is listening closely while Tinkletoes takes notes for him. The ginger tabby is preparing to ask questions.

“Don't write across his butt. Whatever you do, please don't write across his butt.” Tinkletoes mutters.

“Do you have magic?” Dobby asks Bugsy.

“Yes, but only a little. I can and do draw upon Diomedes' magic as needed.”

“Have you tried to draw upon Diomedes' magic to destroy the faerie dust in his digestive system?” Dobby asks.

“Yes. Using faerie magic to neutralize other faerie magic is tricky. It doesn't always work. Your faerie, TT? Is that his name?”

“TP.” Tinkletoes corrects.

“TP is an old faerie with strong finely tuned magic. It is full of the intricacies.  Magic can be honed to identify an individual magical being.”

Tinkletoes yawns. Dobby nods a lot.

“Magic in the hands of an old faerie, one who has had lots of practice...”

“I've got a question.” Tinkletoes says. “Are you ever going to speak English?”

“it can be like a thumb print.” Diomedes continues answering. “A practiced faerie can weave sub-magic into their spells to make the magic unique. TP must be very old because the spell that was activated when I tried to neutralize the enchantment on the faerie dust not only absorbed the power in my spell. It amplified it.”

“In other words.” Dobby prompts recognizing Tinkletoes' frustration.

“In other words.” Diomedes reaches up and draws a mess propelling from Mural Man's butt. “Crap flew everywhere.”

Dobby nods.

“You just had to draw on his butt didn't you.” Tinkletoes says.

“I'm enjoying it.” House comments breathlessly.

“You would.” Tinkletoes grumbles. “So basically, that's how our buddy Diomedes became Sir Craps A Lot.” Tinkletoes says. “That sneaky little devil.”

“You have a strange look on your face.” Dobby says.

“Do I?” Tinkletoes says, looking at Dobby.

“Yeah.”

“We have a magical creature that got very sick from a magical spell, a secondary magic was introduced that intensified the problem.” Tinkletoes recaps. “How about if we brought both sources of magic together? If they both hit Diomedes' system at the same time could they neutralize each other?"  Tinkletoes looks around the room.  "What can I say, I have my moments."

“Two negatives do equal a positive.” Mural Man's voice offers from the nearest opening.

Everyone looks at Mural Man's butt.

“Did your butt just talk?” Tinkletoes asks.

“It is the quickest way for me to speak at the moment.” Mural Man responds.

“Don't do that again.” Tinkletoes says. “Looking at another's man butt is bad enough, listening to it?” He continues. “No.”
"Don't look at my butt." Mural Man says.  "Close your eyes and listen to my voice."
Dobby nods at Tinkletoes who closes his eyes.
"Feel better?"  Mural Man continues.
"No.  I still know it's your butt talking."
Dobby looks at Diomedes and Bugsy to no avail.
"Maybe if you think about this as a sign?"
Tinkletoes glares at Dobby.
"It's going to be all right in the end?"  Dobby suggests.
"It always works for me."  House adds. "Grrrr..."
"Let's just end this right here."
"As long as it's the butt end."  House says.
Tinkletoes runs a hand down the length of his face.  "A talking butt, I'm never going to unsee this."
"But..." 

A Writer With No Post

                                                   

A writer without a post.

She can't help the characters that need her the most.

She will not give up.

She refuses to despair!

What will she do tomorrow if she wakes up without any hair?

The story has not ended.

Neither will her struggle.

She looks up from her writing and says, “Pour me another bartender, and this time make it a double.”

Dobby turns and faces Writer Lady holding up a bottle, he turns his paw down to pour.

With one smooth, fluid movement a single drop of milk plops into her glass.

Writer Lady looks up from her pad of paper “What's happened? Only another shot is going to save my a**.”

The bartender gestures with a nod to a table at the back of the ice cream shoppe.

There in the darkest corner two kittens are drinking like sots.

The pair raise their heads from their milk bowls slowly, tongues sticking out, eyes drooping.

“In a magical ice cream shoppe?" Writer Lady asks. "That makes an odd grouping.”

“I always know when those two are here.” Dobby says. “That's what we call 'milk faced'”.

"Milk Faced?"  Writer Lady repeats.  "What a waste."

"They think it makes them look like studs."

 Smudge closes his eyes. Spots isn't far behind.

 The pair are really close buds.

Dobby says, “Since they've passed out let me go for more. From my secret stash. It's in the back. I don't even have to go to the store.”

Writer Lady looks across the shoppe at the kittens, a gentle smile crosses her face. If you know her you aren't surprised, she always has such grace.

“I'm in a tough spot. A deadline has come and gone. A post has yet to be written. I am determined to maintain the status quo and not pass out in my milk like a drunken kitten.” Writer Lady drinks the remaining sweet, creamy drop of comforting cheer. She pays her tab, “I think I may be turning a corner with this. But thanks, you've been a dear.”

The ginger tabby nods and Writer Lady leaves.

Carrying her notebook, tenacity, and imagination home through the gentle summer breeze.

**Take a moment and comment.  Let me know how many times you facepalmed while reading this.  It will give me a smile.  Have a nice day.**

Getting Down And Dirty With A Stomach Bug

                                                     

  “Thanks?”  Mural Man responds as Tinkletoes leaves him standing in the corner wondering how to make such a request from a sick and potentially dangerous dragon.  “He's a reasonable...dragon.  I'll just ask.” Mural Man mutters returning to Diomedes, Dobby, and Tinkletoes.  “So, um...Diomedes.  I ...we would like to help you.  We don't know what to do.  We...”

Tinkletoes coughs.

“I was wondering if we could talk to Bugsy.”  He says finishing the request.

“A splendid idea sir.”  Diomedes agrees.

“So will you call him?”  Mural Man asks.

“I can try. I do not know if he will answer.   Considering the state of things...”

“Bugsy may not be alive.”   Tinkletoes offers.   “Or at least not living inside you.”

“He may have died at the hand of whatever attacked your digestive system.”  Mural Man suggests.

“He may have simply been expelled.”  Diomedes says.

“Bugsy could be anywhere.  In the carpeting, on the walls.”   Dobby agrees looking around the room.

“On our boots.”  Tinkletoes points out.

While the others contemplate Bugsy's fate Diomedes closes his eyes and concentrates, several moments pass, opening them he announces, “Bugsy is still with me.  I can still sense his presence although it is not as strong as it was before.  I will communicate your request.”  The dragon closes his eyes again.  “I have extended your invitation.  Bugsy says he is on his way.”

“What happens now?”   House asks.

“We wait.”  Tinkletoes says.

As quill scratches along parchment Carp's words resonate throughout the bonus room.

Our hero waits.

Alert and ready for action.

Our hero waits.

Patiently and without complaint.

Our hero waits.

With the quiet contemplation of a seasoned, calculating leader.

Our hero waits...

“Do we have to keep listening to this?”  Dylan asks.

“If you want to see what happens next you do.”  Peter answers.

“How about if we make him tell us what we want to know?”  Ray asks.

“What do you mean make him?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Like truth serum or something.”

“That doesn't work on magical creatures.”  TP says.  “Silly Human.”

Tinkletoes, Dobby, Mural Man, and House all wait for Bugsy to arrive.   Diomedes naps while he is waiting. The dragon's eyes are closed, his breathing steady.

“This feels like it's taking forever.”  Dobby says.

“It does, doesn't it?”  Mural Man agrees.

“Big dragon.   Little bug.  It's supposed to take a while.”  Tinkletoes announces.

“While you boys are waiting could we begin to clean up?  All of the excrement isn't good for my carpets.”  House says.

“Until we're sure the diarrhea is over, what's the point?”  Tinkletoes counters.

“Unlike you some of us have grooming standards.”  House says.

“I have standards.  High ones.  But what's the point in showering if in two hours you're going to be up to your neck in mud again?”

“He's right.”  Dobby agrees.

“Maybe I should just ask about calling for Bugsy again.   He might be hurt or something.”   Mural Man offers.

Diomedes opens his eyes.   “Bugsy is here.”  He announces. “I hope that we can remedy this situation.   You may need an illumination device.”  Diomedes stops talking and opens wide.

“We need a flashlight.”  Tinkletoes says.

Dobby retrieves one.

Bugsy makes his entrance slowly.  Climbing up an esophagus is hot work and by the time the stomach bug has made it over the back of Diomedes' tongue, stopping at a back tooth that a rope has been tied around to relieve himself of the other end and loop it around the aforementioned tooth, Bugsy is tired.  Regardless, the stomach bug walks purposefully to the front of Diomedes' mouth stopping just inside the dragon's front bottom teeth.  Taking an authoritative stance on the tip of the dragon's tongue.  A squeak is released by the tiny black bug.  Everyone who is not a bug is left scratching their heads.   Bugsy squeaks again.

“What?”  Tinkletoes asks Dobby.

“I'm a cat.  How would I know what he's saying?”

“SQUEAK!”  Bugsy squeaks again with great emphasis.

“He says 'Hello'.”  Diomedes says.

“Oh.”  Tinkletoes responds.  “You aren't moving your mouth.  How are you doing that?”  He asks.

“Through my claw.”   The dragon responds.  One of Diomedes' front legs is held out, his claw is open.

“The sound is coming out of the end of Diomedes' claws like a bunch of mini-speakers.”   Dobby says.

“Squeak, squeak, squuueak, squeaak.”  Bugsy continues.

“Bugsy says 'Hello.  It's about time you showed up.'”

“What?”  Mural Man asks.

Bugsy looks up at the roof of the dragon's mouth and closing his eyes concentrates for a moment.

“Bugsy will send messages directly to me to tell you his thoughts in an effort to save time.”  Diomedes says.

“Great.  That squeaking is pretty annoying.”  Tinkletoes says.

Bugsy makes a rude gesture to the self-proclaimed mercenary and continues his tirade.

“Your faerie nearly killed me.  What are you going to do about it?”  Diomedes says.

“You're the one who's supposed to help us.”  Tinkletoes says.

The tiny black bug's face turns red.   Bugsy reaches behind his back and pulls out a semi-automatic machine gun.  He aims for the group.  “Your faerie nearly killed me.   What are you going to do about it?”

Dobby and Mural Man raise their paws/hands.

“Whoa...there lil' guy.”  Tinkletoes says with a grin, “We can get this worked out.”

“Be careful Tinkletoes.   He could be dangerous.”  Mural Man warns.

“What? Him?”  Tinkletoes steps closer to Diomedes' mouth and peers inside. “Dangerous or no, he's my kind of bug.   Strong, independent.  He's done what he's had to do in this situation.  He's gone Commando.”   He says with a grin.

“Actually I think you have the wrong term.”  Mural Man suggests.

“He doesn't.”  Dobby says.  “Take a look.”

Mural Man leans in to get a better look at the stomach bug.  “No pants.”  He looks at Tinkletoes.  “Commando is the correct term.”

“What?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Bugsy's not wearing any pants.”

“Of course he's not wearing any pants.  He's a bug.   What the hell does he need pants for?”

When Examining A Dragon...

“I would prefer not to.” Diomedes says.

Tinkletoes looks squarely at Diomedes.   “Dragon, we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way.”

“Isn't the dragon bigger than you are?”  House asks.

“I'll still win.”   Tinkletoes says.

“Doesn't the dragon breathe fire?”   House continues.

“Sometimes.”

“Doesn't he have magical powers?”

“Yeah.  I'm still going to win.”

“How?”  House asks.

“I'm more determined than he is.  Never underestimate a man on a mission.” Tinkletoes responds.   “Besides, there's the whole "diarrhea wearing him out thing" so that he has nothing inside left to breathe fire with.   It's possible he has too little energy to forge magic too.”

“So it's more the whole “parasite sucking his energy up” thing that gives you the advantage?” Mural Man asks.

“Um...yeah.”

“You're okay with that?”

Tinkletoes looks at Mural Man.  “This is a fire breathing dragon with the ability to forge magic.  Yeah, I'm okay with it.”  Turning back to Diomedes he says, “Bend over.”

Diomedes looks at Tinkletoes eyes wide.

“He seems nervous about this.  Perhaps if you reassured Diomedes in some way.”  Mural Man suggests.

Tinkletoes mutters for a moment, he looks at Diomedes and says.   “There's nothing to be scared of.  Dobby is wearing gloves.  He's gonna be gentle about the whole thing.”

“No I'm not.”   Dobby says.

“Of course you will.”   Tinkletoes says.  Turning back to Diomedes he says, “I know he helped conjure a demon to kill you and stuff but it was just because he thought you were a threat.  Dobby was just protecting his home.   Once we found out that you're okay, well, we haven't thought about killing you again for a second.   Dobby won't hurt you.  You can trust him.”

“I'm not sticking my paw up there.”  Dobby says.

“You have the suit, the gloves...the way cool helmet.”

Dobby shakes his head.

“Go get Ray for me then.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Ray isn't going to do this.”  Dobby says.

“I can get Ray to do anything as long as I have cupcakes.”

“I thought you were Lord and Emperor over all the cupcakes of this realm.” Dobby says.

“I am.  No one eats my cupcakes unless I invite them to.  As a leader it's important to know what motivates your men.  A goodie is a powerful motivator for a man like Ray.”

“Wait a minute Dobby."  Mural Man says the ginger tabby.  "Isn't there a less invasive way to do this?”  He asks, looking at Tinkletoes.

“Probably.”  Tinkletoes answers without looking away from Diomedes.  “Okay dragon, bend over.”

“You aren't going to look for one?” Mural Man asks.

“One what?”

“A less invasive way to help?”

“No.”

Mural Man looks at Diomedes.   “Are you sure this wasn't the cheese balls?  Maybe a bit of a stomach bug?”

Diomedes thinks for a moment and says, “Bugsy did not mention any problems when we arrived.”

“Bugsy?”  Mural Man asks.

“My stomach bug.”  The dragon responds.

“So you are sick.”  Tinkletoes says.

“No.”

“You just said you have a stomach bug.”  Mural Man points out.

“Bugsy.  He is the bug that lives in my stomach.  He is in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly.  If something is wrong he tells me.”

“Why didn't you mention this sooner?”   Tinkletoes demands.

“Nobody asked.”   TP says.  The faerie has been released from Writer Lady's enclosed hands and been placed in an old cricket cage.  He is lounging on a pool chaise he made appear when Writer Lady invited him to have a seat.   “All dragons have a stomach bug.”

Furnatche looks from TP's cage to his stomach and whimpers.

“Stomach bugs don't travel well.  This doesn't have to be TP's fault.”  The faerie points out.

“But it still might be.”  Writer Lady counters.

“That little faerie dude has a lot of information.”   Ray says studying TP.

“Information that we need.”  Writer Lady agrees.   “But the trick is figuring out how to extract it from him.”

“So tell us more about this bug.”   Tinkletoes says.

“We have lived together symbiotically since my hatching day.  I share my food and give him a warm, safe place to live and he keeps my digestive system healthy. He notifies me of any unseemly activities going on inside.”

“How do you talk?”   Tinkletoes asks.

“Bugsy sends messages through my neural pathways that get interpreted and become random thoughts.”

“How can you tell the difference between that bug's messages and your own thoughts?”   Mural Man asks.

“He signs his name of course.”   Diomedes responds.

“Of course.”  Dobby parrots.

Tinkletoes looks at Mural Man.   “Could I have a word with you?”

Mural Man slides along the carpet and then the living room wall to meet Tinkletoes in a far corner of the room.  “You and House spent some time in faerie.”  Tinkletoes says.  “How do we kill this thing?”

“Kill it?”

“Yeah kill it.   Send it home.  Get it the hell out of here.  I don't want to do the demon thing again, that was a bad idea.”

There is a silence as Mural Man waits for more information.

“This dragon is crazy.”  Tinkletoes announces.  “He says there's a bug living in his stomach.  There are probably lots of bugs in there.  Bugs living inside his head, eating his brain.”

“Not necessarily, Diomedes talking about Bugsy reminded me of something.  I think I remember seeing something about it in one of the faerie museums.  We should ask Diomedes to invite Bugsy up for a chat.” Mural Man says.

“He can do that?”

“I don't think it's the way things are usually done but if they truly are living symbiotically then it should be possible.”

“Okay.  That'll be your job.”  Tinkletoes says returning to Diomedes.

The Saga Continues

“Cheese balls?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Yeah, TP coated the cheese balls with some magic stuff that streamlined them.  So they would go faster.”

“Did they?”

“Oh yeah.”   Ray answers with a grin.  “The first ones moved so fast that they burned the plastic.  No track could hold them.  So TP made them fly.”

“Flying would be the next logical step.”  Writer Lady agrees.

“TP filled a bag with faerie dust.   He put another slick coating on over that so we didn't lose any speed.   Those balls were flying everywhere.  Across the floor, on to the furniture.   They made bright orange tracks along the walls.   The walls looked really cool.   You would have loved it man.   TP said some words and waved his hands and then those cheese balls really picked up speed.  One took out a lamp.  Another one broke that ugly glass thing everyone avoids but you never put flowers in.”

“My great- great-great grandmother's vase?”

Ray nods.

“The one that was supposed to have sunk on the Titanic but her best friend saved it by holding like it was a baby until she reached dry land.  That one?”

“Ye...yeah.”  Ray says.

Writer Lady's face contorts into something scary.  She takes a deep breath and her face relaxes.   She says, “Continue.”

“The first cheese ball flew into Diomedes' mouth by accident.  The rest just like...followed.”

“Diomedes ate a whole bag of cheese balls?”

Ray nods.

“A whole bag of cheese balls that had been rolling all over the dirty carpet, furniture, walls, then been coated with magical goo?”  Writer Lady asks.

“How dirty do you mean?  Because the carpet looked okay to me.”

“Clean but not clean enough to eat off of.”

“Oh.”  Ray says paling a little.  “Faerie dust.   They had faerie dust on them too.” He reminds her.

“No.  Let's not forget that.  TP uses that dust for just about everything.  We have no clue what's in that!   No wonder the poor dragon is sick.”  Writer Lady's eyes scan the room looking for the guilty party.  TP has not moved from his spot near the monitor.  Watching and giggling as Tinkletoes, Dobby, House, and Mural Man try to help Diomedes.  “You.”  She says glaring at the faerie.

“Ooops.  Time to go.”   TP says.

“Not so fast.”  Writer Lady says, catching him in her hands.  “You have made a mess.  A big one.  It's time you helped clean it up.”

A high pitched noise is heard coming from Writer Lady's closed hands.  “What?” She asks.

“Let me.”  Ray leans down and puts an ear to Writer Lady's hands.

“Say that again TP.”  Writer Lady says.

TP repeats himself.

“Romantic quest.”  Ray says.  “He can't help because it Tinkletoes' romantic quest.”

“Romantic quest!  Ask TP how many romantic quests are there in which the ill-behaved imp who started it to begin with sits on the sidelines, watches, and laughs.”

Ray listens.  “More than you think?”  He interprets.

Writer Lady shakes her head.  “He tried but this is not your typical situation. Tinkletoes deserves more help, help from you TP and he's going to get it.”

There is more high-pitched chattering.

“You'll cut off Tinkletoes' nuts.”  Ray reminds her.

“Surely Tinkletoes has more confidence than to think that fixing one mess like this makes him a bigger man.”

More chatter.

“TP says he doesn't think he is and you'll be cutting off his nuts.”

“Fine.”  Writer Lady says.  “When this is all over I'll sew them back on again.    He won't even know they're gone.”

Ray raises his head and stands up.   “I hate to tell you this man.  But I think he's gonna notice.”

“I'll have to find a way to make it up to him then won't I?   I'll owe him one.”

“It might not be a complete disaster.”   Ray assents.  “Maybe if you invented some super delicious new Dragon Slayer cupcakes.  He might feel better.”

Peter and Dylan return from outside in time to hear about the food.

“I know goodies always make me feel better.”  Ray says.

Dylan looks at Ray and nods in agreement.

“So losing your masculinity is okay as long as there are cupcakes?”  Writer Lady asks.  “That's the message I'm getting.”

Ray, Peter, and Dylan all look at each other.   “It helps.”  Dylan says.

Diomedes stands in the center of the living room.   The dragon is changing colors more slowly and he seems less stressed.

“It was the cheese balls.  Dragons must be allergic to cheese balls.”  Dobby says.

“Are you, um...lactose intolerant?”  Mural Man asks.

“No.”  Diomedes answers.  “I am a magical creature.  I can eat whatever I like and reject whatever I don't like.  It all metabolizes the same.”

“When you reject it?  How does a dragon do that?”  Mural Man asks.

“I say, “Eu...” and make a disagreeable face.”

“You don't eat it?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Only one bite.”  Diomedes responds.

“A rejected food wouldn't do this then.”  Tinkletoes says.

“That is correct.”   The dragon agrees.

“Then it must be some type of parasite.”  Mural Man says.

Tinkletoes looks at Mural Man, “What?   Did Monitor Man play a veterinarian once too?”

“He auditioned for a role as a zoologist.  Unfortunately, he didn't get it.”

“Yeah, well you win some and you lose some.”   Tinkletoes says looking briefly towards the bonus room.  Tinkletoes looks back at Diomedes.  “If you've got some kind of bug or worm living in there it only means one thing.  We need to find out what it is so that the enemy can be neutralized.  Bend over.”

The Saga Of A Man Called Tink

The Saga of a Man Called Tink

Tink...Tink

A name you will never forget

The name of a legend

The soldier from Tibet.

So begins “The Saga of a Man Called Tink.”

Carp dictates his story to a feather quill that puts words to parchment with efficiency and speed much to Peter's amazement and Dylan's delight.

“Tibet?”  Peter asks.

“I know...Tinkletoes isn't from Tibet and he looks nothing like a Tibetan but it rhymes.”

Peter looks at Carp doubtfully.

“I'm the writer and this is all about creating the perfect vision.”  Carp announces.  “I am taking creative license.  Writers can do that.”

Peter is not convinced.

“A vision of who?”   Dylan asks.

“Tinkletoes.”  Peter answers.

Shaking his head, the little boy looks up at Carp and says, “Try again.”

Carp clears his throat loudly.  The quill lifts from the parchment and waits.  Carp tries again.

Enter our hero.  A man who has fought brave battles.

“Against Writer Lady.”--TP giggles.

Battles of Wits.

“He's never won.”  More giggling.

A soldier wielding a formidable weapon.

Peter and Dylan move through the room dueling with cardboard cores from emptied rolls of gift wrap.

Roughing it in hostile territories.  Braving the elements.   Eating only what he can find.

Dylan runs out of the room returning with a rectangular plastic container from the kitchen.   The lid has the words “Property Of Tinkletoes” written across the top in bold black marker.  Dylan opens it and pulls out an elaborately decorated cupcake piped with buttercream.  It is a large white rose with a tiny pink rosebud in the center.  Dylan opens wide and Peter takes it out of his hand just in time.

“No Dylan those are his favorite.”  Peter says, replacing the fancy cupcake and giving Dylan one of the plainer looking ones.   Dylan makes a face.   “This one is better.  It has sprinkles on it.”  Peter says.  Dylan's expression does not change. “If you eat the other one Tinkletoes will be mad and you won't get to play Halo anymore.”  Peter points out.

“I love sprinkles.”  Dylan says accepting the cupcake and taking a big bite.

Tinkletoes, Diomedes, Mural Man, and House all hear Dobby coming long before he reaches the entry to the living room.

“Stop right there.”  Tinkletoes orders before the ginger tabby can step inside the room.  “What are you doing?”

“I've got your back?”  Dobby asks.

“So what's with the get up?”

“It was supposed to be armor but all I got was this stupid garbage bag.”

“What about the helmet?”

“Mom asked TP to help her make a Hazmat suit.  He's a little preoccupied.” Dobby explains.

“You need boots to wade through this.  Get some boots on and you can come in.” Tinkletoes instructs.

“I left my combat boots in Mom's room.”

“House, would you mind?”

Several seconds pass.  The pantry door creaks open and a feline sized pair of combat boots are unceremoniously spit out.   They fly across the kitchen floor, thumping against the base of a cabinet and ricochet back landing at Dobby's feet.

“Thanks.”  Dobby says stepping into boots that automatically lace up and tie on their own because...cat.  No thumbs.   Dobby sloshes through the muck, stopping next to Tinkletoes and Diomedes.

“This isn't going to work if everyone keeps heckling my story.”  Carp announces.

“Then tell a better one.”  Dylan responds.

Carp puts a hand to his forehead and closes his eyes for several moments.  He mutters ,“What to do.  What to do.  Since I am not entertaining you with my adventuresome prose I will dictate what I know.”

“No way man.”   Ray says.

Ignoring Ray, Carp begins.

Enter Tink .  

The Heroiest of all Heroes.

The man of the hour.

The soldier that men most admire and women most swoon over.

He enters the room boldly.

Each step heavy with purpose.

A man on a mission.

A woman to save.

The light in the room dims then returns suddenly, reflecting off his muscular chest.  It glistens with sweat.

His hair loosened from its binding while fighting blows in the windy entry. Flowing freely now and whipping against the open doorway.

TP giggles.

“Tinkletoes is not going to like this.”  Ray says, shaking his head.

Dylan also shakes his head in disapproval.  Peter, standing behind his younger brother, gently stops his head from moving.  Dylan looks up.   “But Peter, Tinkletoes doesn't have long hair.  This is wrong.”

“Creative license, my boy, creative license.”  Carp argues.

“Dylan, maybe we should go outside for a little while.”  Peter suggests.

“This is wrong, Peter.”  Dylan says as the boys leave the house.  “That story is terrible.  He made money with that stuff?  People pay for that?  Grown-ups don't make any sense.” 

“What are we doing?”  Dobby asks.

“Talking.”  Tinkletoes answers.  “When something goes wrong in battle you have to go back and look at the events leading up to the situation.”

“Keeping in mind what we know.”   Mural Man says.   “Diomedes has diarrhea.  Diahrrea is one of the digestive system's ways of saying there is something inside that doesn't belong and needs to come out.”

Tinkletoes nods.

“Sometimes this is a virus, parasite, bad food, or other stomach irritant.”

Both Tinkletoes and Dobby look at Mural Man taken aback by his knowledge.

“I come from Monitor Man.   He played a doctor once.  Not a G.P. a um...another kind of doctor.  But all doctors start out with a more general medical education and then move on to specialize.”

Taking one last look into the bonus room Tink sees her standing in the doorway. The woman of his heart.  The large innocent eyes, beautiful fine features, scared for him, the young couple, and for the fate of the house.   Her bosom heaves quickly as her breathing becomes more labored, she feels such fear for all of them.  There is so much love in her heart.

“I'll wait for you.”   She calls.

“You'd better.  I'm sexiest guy Ever.”   Tink answers with a grin showing bright, perfect teeth and turns to meet his enemy.

A fierce dragon with long talons and razor sharp teeth growls, snorting smoke, and threatening a pair of innocents.  “The only good human is a dead human,” the dragon growls. 

 

“Wouldn't this story be better if you paid attention to what was happening in the other room?  Diomedes isn't attacking anyone.”  Writer Lady points out.   “He's the one who's sick.   If anyone is the victim that poor dragon is.”

“TP never should have fed the dragon those cheese balls.”  Ray says.

A Dragon, Poop, and a Hazmat Suit

“I can't cut off his nuts.”  Writer Lady says holding up both hands.  “No sharp objects.”   She says pushing her way past the group.

“Mom.”   Dobby's call stops her as she stands in the entry her hands resting on the frame of the doorway.  “If you go into the living room now it will change everything,forever.”

Writer Lady closes her eyes and bows her head for a moment releasing a tired sigh.  “I know.  Like TP said 'Don't cut off his nuts'.  It just seems so unfair.” Writer Lady looks at Dobby.

There is tenderness(?) in her eyes.  No.  It couldn't be tenderness, could it?  It has been a really long day.  Love?  Who knows.  It wasn't anger or disdain.  How about that for progress?  Maybe it was just PMS or something.  Some months there's anger and other months weepy, vulnerability.  It really can go either way.  She did have those super loaded nachos for breakfast.  So...any who...

“How about this Mom, what if I go and help?  Tinkletoes is my best friend and he took care of you when I needed him to.  I'll be his back-up now.  Would that make you feel better?”

“Yes kitty. It would.”

“Your champion officially has a second.”   Dobby announces bowing with great flourish.  The ginger tabby walks past Writer Lady only to be scooped up into her arms.

“I can't let you do that kitty.  Not yet.  A second cannot go into battle without being properly outfitted.”

“Mo-om.”  Dobby groans.

“You'll get poop in your fur.  Do you want that super smelly dragon poop in your fur?”  Writer Lady asks.

“No.”

“Then come with me.  I'm sure TP can help with this.”

“This isn't going to be like the pjs is it?”  Dobby asks.

“Of course not.”  Writer Lady reassures him.  “You didn't like the pjs?   They were adorable.”

“They had cartoon puppies.  Do you have any idea how ridiculous an orange tabby looks in pjs with cartoon puppies on them?”

“I understand that you are a big boy now and you can pick out your own clothes.  This is entirely for your protection kitty.  Trust me.”

“As long as you understand. I'm too big for you to carry me around too by the way.”  Dobby protests, wiggling in her arms.

Writer Lady keeps walking.

“Can I at least walk?   Mom?”

“Hmm...hmm...” Tinkletoes paces back and forth creating a half circle pattern in front of Diomedes.  Stepping through the poopy mud permeating Writer Lady's carpeting he stops near the entry, turning around, he squats down studying the dragon as he runs his fingers along his jaw.  “This is a whole lot of poop dragon.”

“Yes sir.”  Diomedes says.

“Do dragons usually poop this much?”

“No.”

“How are things...well...normally.”

“Dragons are fierce creatures.”  Diomedes says.

“Lots of body parts in your piles.  Arms?  Legs?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“You didn't let me finish.  Dragons are fierce creatures but we are also magical ones.  As long as we reside in Faerie our excrement is...how do I say this...our poop reflects not only our diets but our emotional state.”

“When you eat the wrong things you end up with this?”  Tinkletoes asks.

Diomedes nods.

“When you eat the right things and you are content or happy.”  He prompts.

“When I'm in Faerie it looks like a large dollop of fluffy whipped cream and it smells like cotton candy.  Until it disappears.”

“Your poop does disappear doesn't it?  I've been meaning to ask you, where does that stuff go?  You know when you...”

“Oh no.   Oh no!”   House's voice fills the living room.  “I knew it.  I could tell something was wrong.  Didn't I tell you something was wrong?”  House's paper image travels along the wall.  She stares in horror at what the rest of her has become.   Mural Man's image follows close behind.

“Relax.  No one did this on purpose.”  Tinkletoes says looking at her.  “We're sorting the problem out now.”

“How did this happen?”  House cries.

Tinkletoes rises to his full height and crosses the room to stand next to Diomedes.  As his booted foot sinks into the carpet there is a sloshing sound.  House's reflexion changes colors eventually settling on a brown hue.   An outline of the sole of Tinkletoes' boot rests on her cheek.

House stares at her darkening hands.  “I'm filthy.   Filthy!”

“It's okay.  Everything is going to be okay.”  Mural Man says looking into House's eyes.  “Just stay calm.”

“Calm?  Stay calm?”   I'm covered in poop!  It's everywhere permeating every corner.  Entire walls are covered.  Look at my crown molding.”

“It's still beautiful.”  Mural Man says.  “You're beautiful.   You will always be beautiful.  I love you.”

“I love you too Mur.”

“Could you two save that crap for later?”  Tinkletoes asks.  “I'm up to my ankles in this.”

“Of course.”  Mural Man agrees.

“Dobby, be careful kitty.”

Dobby gestures to the screen Ray, Carp, Peter, Dylan, and TP are watching. “There is stuff happening and I'm missing it.”

“Can I just tie this shut?”

“No this suit was a waste of time.”  Dobby fusses with his makeshift protective armor.   “It's not even armor.  It's a garbage bag with an opening for my head.”

“TP covered your arms without limiting your movement; a regular garbage bag can't do that.”  Writer Lady points out.  She reaches down, picking up the flap ties on the bag to secure it closed.

“Mom that tickles.”

“This is for your own protection.  It's like a big waterproof jumpsuit so you won't get any more poop in your fur.”

“Well I can't help your hero out there if I'm still dressing in here.”

“We're almost done.  Put on your gloves.”  She says.   “Dobby, stop looking at the tv and hold your paws out.”  Writer Lady puts the large blue gloves on the ginger tabby's paws.  “Here's your helmet.” She says holding out a large brown mass.

“Really?”

“Put it on.”

Dobby looks at the helmet and makes a face.

“Do you want to go or not?” Writer Lady asks.

Dobby glares at her.

“Helmet.”

Picking up the helmet Dobby puts it on his head.  “This thing is too heavy and it looks ridiculous.”

“TP's a faerie, I didn't realize when I said “hazmat” he would think it meant some sort of a mat had to be part of the ensemble.”

“This is embarrassing.”  Dobby says.  The ginger tabby heads for the living room shuffling and crinkling with every step.

A Lone Warrior On A Romantic? Quest

“It sounds like Diomedes could use some help.”   Writer Lady says.  She leaves the room reappearing with a fresh bucket of hot soapy water.   “Luckily, you're just the man for the job.”   Taking off the over sized gloves, she hands them to Tinkletoes.  Tinkletoes stares at the blue gloves.  There is another window rattling rumble and a farting noise as Dobby runs back into the room.

“Mom?”  Dobby calls.

“Yes kitty.”

“There's another mess in the living room.”

“Yes I know.”   Writer Lady answers cheerfully as she hands the bucket to Tinkletoes who doesn't reach out to take it from her.

“Here.”  She says, cuing Tinkletoes to take the bucket's handle.

“No.”

“You wanted to be the hero.”

“This doesn't seem very 'hero-y'.”

“Being a hero is standing up and being there for others even when it doesn't impress a large group of admirers.  Sometimes it's not a fun thing to do either.”

“This isn't what I pictured.”   Tinkletoes says.

“The dream is never quite like the reality, is it?  Heroic deeds aren't always slaying monsters, overthrowing evil rulers, or destroying dangerous space aliens sometimes there's just...”

“*&%$.”  Tinkletoes curses.

“Exactly.”

Tinkletoes stands quietly waiting for Writer Lady to change her mind, recognizing that she isn't going to budge he takes the offered bucket by the handle.  “You're right.”  He admits grudgingly.  Tinkletoes looks at TP, Ray, Dobby, and Carp.   “It's time to be heroes.”

Everyone steps out of the entry to let Tinkletoes through.  He looks at them expectantly.  “Are you guys coming?”

Ray begins to take a step forward only to be held back by Carp.

“We can't.”  Carp announces.

“You can't?”

“Of course not, this is a quest.”

“On a quest your buddies are supposed to come with you.”

“In most cases I would agree.”  Carp responds,  “This is a special quest, a romantic quest.  A lone warrior facing dangers of unforeseen magnitudes.   The ultimate expression of his love for the fair maiden.”

“Fair?  Nothing about this is fair.”

“Not fair as in free from injustice but fair as in your beloved, not to mention a fair maiden with light hair and pale skin.”

Tinkletoes studies Writer Lady as he thinks about Carp's explanation,  “You don't get outside much do you?”

Writer Lady glares at Tinkletoes.

“Hey...I noticed.”  He says to her then returns his attention to Carp.   “I have to do this alone?”

“Yes, to prove your devotion to Writer Lady you must go on this quest alone.”

“Okay.”  Tinkletoes says with a brief nod.  “I guess you're worth it.”

“Don't hurt yourself.  It must be difficult coming up with such deep, flowery prose.”

“I won't.”  Tinkletoes answers and goes back to the mission.  “I got this.  How bad can it be?  It's just a bunch of poop.”  Tinkletoes makes his exit and everyone breathes a sigh of relief that they are not accompanying him.

“Duude...I didn't know that there were different kinds of quests.”

“There aren't.  But I can't write “The Saga Of A Man Called Tinkletoes” if I'm in there.  I didn't want to go help clean that up.  Did you?”

“Holy Crap.”  Tinkletoes exclaims running a hand down his face.  “I've seen my share of combat zones but...damn.”  Smears of poop changing colors at regular intervals are spread throughout the room.   There are smudges, splatters, and random piles on the floor, chair and couch; some dripping off of the window frames with audible plops on to Writer Lady's houseplants.   Diomedes sits in the center of it all looking miserable.

“What happened here?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“What was it the little one called it?   The runs.”   Diomedes looks around the room.  “I am most sorry about this.   Terribly embarrassed.”  The dragon proclaims.

“Yeah.  Who wouldn't be.  Do you need some water?”  Tinkletoes asks.

Diomedes shakes his head, “We tried that.  It just makes things well...more fluid.”

“Okay, no water then.”   A wave of scent drifts past Tinkletoes, “What's that smell?”

“My poop?”  Diomedes asks.

“No, this is something else.  It does stink but it also smells like something is cooking.”  Tinkletoes sniffs further turning his head a little further and sniffing again.  He leans towards the television,  “It's coming from here.”  Tinkletoes picks the Big Red Flashlight up off of the floor, turns it on, and peers inside the TV.  “How did you get poop in there?”

“If you don't go help how can you record what happens?”   Writer Lady asks Carp.

“Like this.”  TP says, fluttering to an open space further into the room and out of Tinkletoes' line of sight the faerie waves his hand over air and a large screen appears.  Writer Lady, TP, Ray, Carp, Dobby, Peter, and Dylan can see and hear everything that is going on in the living room.

“Holy Crap.”  Writer Lady exclaims.   “If I had any idea what kind of a mess he was walking into I wouldn't have sent him in there alone.  If you all will excuse me.”  She says heading for the entry into the main house only to find her path blocked by everyone.

“Where do you think you're going?”  Carp asks.

“To help.”

“You cannot.”  TP says giggling.

“Why not?”

“This is a romantic quest.  A lone warrior cannot prove his love for you if you are fighting his battle for him can he?”

Writer Lady stops and thinks about what Carp is saying.   “I guess not.”

“The fair maiden is the absolute last person who should be helping.”

“That's a really big mess.”  Writer Lady points out.  “He can't do this alone.”

“Maybe he can.”  Carp says.  “If you go out there now...you may not say it and he may not say it but in some way he will lose stature with you.”

Writer Lady makes a face.  “I don't think so.”

“Let me explain it to you this way, you helping him now would be like a college kid taking his mother to a kegger as his +1.  He would lose a chunk of his masculinity and I wouldn't have anything interesting for my book either.  Who wants to read about a lone warrior on a romantic quest that saves the day with the aid of the fair maiden whose favor he is seeking.”

“Don't cut off his nuts.”  TP says giggling.

A Man Called Tink

“Yeah, but for how long.”   Writer Lady mutters.

“What?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“I said...okay.”  She answers not looking up from her work.

“I get what's going on.”  Tinkletoes says.  “You don't think I'm serious do you?   I bet you don't think I'm serious about anything, do you?”

Writer Lady looks up, “No. I know you can be serious.  I believe that if I were a box of ammo, a video game, a cupcake, or one of those toys,” thinking for a moment Writer Lady snaps her fingers and continues, “a lightsaber which are fairly cool I have to admit, there wouldn't be a doubt in my mind that you weren't serious.  But about this...”  Looking down she returns to her work.

“First of all I design those lightsabers.  They are one of a kind...collectibles.  I'm a great friend to Dobby.”  Tinkletoes counters.

“You are.  A great friend.  You have brought others with you just as TP has.  It has made life interesting.”

“And?”

“It's never boring.”   She admits looking up and giving Tinkletoes a brief smile.  Just as quickly the smile disappears.   “I can't help but wonder how long it will be before there is a new video game, a tastier cupcake, a new lightsaber.  Will I even have had the chance to notice that the winds have changed before I find that you've disappeared?”

“I am a mercenary.”

Writer Lady raises an eyebrow.

“Is it my fault we haven't had a decent invasion from space aliens?”   He asks. Tinkletoes crosses the room to look into Writer Lady's eyes.  “I won't lie to you.  There will be missions.  I will have to leave but I will always come back.  To this house.  To you.”

Three shadows stand in the doorway watching.   Two men and one faerie. 

 “Is he serious?”  Ray whispers to Carp on his right.  “Duuude...”  Ray looks at TP on his left.   The faerie covers his mouth and giggles into his hand.  Carp quickly wipes a small tear from one eye.  Ray shakes his head.  “Do you think I should say something?”  Ray asks.   “It looks like it's pretty serious in there...like a soap opera.”

“He sounds just like Eric from 'The Beautiful and the Short Sighted'.”  Carp agrees.

“Someone get a camera.”  TP says giggling.

Carp glares at TP.

“But, this is so...so...duuude.”  Ray says.

“It's kinda girlie...”  Dylan popping his head in between Ray and Carp.

“I could write this.”  Carp announces.   “The Saga of a Man Called Tink.”

“Isn't a saga a long sweeping story of a family spanning many generations that takes place all over the world?”  Peter asks from his spot behind Dylan.

“Yes it can be.”  Carp answers.  “Tinkletoes went...has...is...destined to do amazing things.”

“But if you wrote it now wouldn't it be set mostly in one place?”  The boy asks.

“I'll write a play.”  Carp says. 

“Duuude...if we're doing a play can I be the cat?”   Ray asks.

“We aren't doing a play right now and you were already the cat.”   Carp points out.

“Oh yeah.”

“Shhhh!   He's leaning forward.”

Leaning in Tinkletoes whispers into Writer Lady's ear, “What is it that I can do to prove that I am serious about you?”

The room grows quiet.

“Hop on one foot.”

“What?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Hop on one foot.”

Tinkletoes closes his eyes and hops on one foot.

“Now get up on your tippy toes and turn around like a ballerina.”   Writer Lady says.

“You can't be serious.”   He says.

“What...not manly enough for you?”  Writer Lady challenges.

“I prefer to be the hero.”

“If you won't do something simple like a ballerina dance why should I trust you with something more important?  More heroic.  Isn't that how an exceptional warrior, a man legends are made of proves himself by training his own dragon or pulling the sword from the stone?”

“By dancing around like a ballerina?”

“The legend has to find the sword the stone is embedded in first doesn't he? Humble beginnings soldier boy.  Humble beginnings.”   Writer Lady says.  She crosses her arms and waits.

“You really do have a mean streak.”  Tinkletoes says.

There is a rumble from the living room.

Ray turns his head and looks in the direction of the living room.   He turns to Carp.  “Dude...we really have to say something.”

“Why doesn't he just kiss her already?”   Carp whispers.

“Dude.”

Carp turns his head and looks at Ray.

“We need to say something.  That big lizard is gonna explode again any minute.”

There is another rumble, a louder one, getting Carp's attention.  He turns and looks in the direction of the living room.  Carp turns back towards Tinkletoes and Writer Lady.  “Things aren't going the way I'd hoped anyway.”  He says, he coughs into his fist loudly to get Tinkletoes' attention.

Tinkletoes and Writer Lady look in the direction of the cough to find...an audience.  Looking at each other for a moment they look back at the...um...crowd.  

“Yes?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“There is something going on the living room that needs your attention.”   Carp says.

“Dobby's kicking your butts, huh?   I'll be right out.”

There is an even louder rumbling, a groan and an “Oh my...” heard coming from the living room.

“What's going on Carp?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“It's Diomedes...”  Carp says.

“He's not well.”  TP says giggling.

“Dude...that big lizard thing keeps changing colors really really fast.   He doesn't look right.  He looks...green.”

Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady who responds, “Green is his default color.  What have you been doing in there?   All of the activity may be confusing his physiology.”

“There was this ball/track thing and we took the ball out and used a cheese ball instead but it wasn't going very fast so we sprayed some non-stick stuff on it...”

The next thump rattles the windows and a pained groaning noise comes from the far side of the house.  

 Dylan rushes forward to announce  “The big dragon is sick.   He's pooping. Everywhere.”