Unicorns and Rainbows

Carp and Black Buck Antelope look up. Monitor Man and the two kittens sit quietly on two separate branches of a large tree.

“Who’s we?” Carp asks.

“Writer Lady, Tinkletoes, both these kittens, and me.” Monitor Man says. “Everyone is ready to go.”

Carp hears a snort and a sound that reminds him of a hoof pawing the ground.

“What was that?” Monitor Man asks.

“You could hear that? From up there?” Carp asks.

“Yeah. There’s some kind of weird echo.”

There is the sound of more pawing and Carp hears a snort and feels a rush of air against the back of his neck. Both unicorns appear simultaneously. One is standing behind Carp’s left shoulder and the other his right.  He slowly moves out of stabbing distance

“Unicorns!” Smudge Mal calls.

“Cool!” Spots Wash exclaims.

Monitor Man whistles for a bubble. One swoops across the meadow and into the entrance of the rainforest. It stops next to Monitor Man’s branch. He steps on to the top of the bubble and sits down with his legs crossed in front of him. He says, “Down to the next branch please.” The bubble lowers itself to the branch the kittens are sitting on. Both kittens climb on to Monitor Man’s lap. Smudge Mal yawns and begins kneading a thigh. “Down to the road please.” The actor instructs. He looks at Smudge Mal. “Don’t get too comfortable. We aren’t going far.”

The kitten yawns again. “Okay.” He stops kneading.

The bubble lowers itself to the ground, setting down well away from the unicorns and their horns. Both kittens immediately jump from the bubble and run over to the magical creatures. One sniffing at a hoof while the other one chases a tail.

“Careful!” Carp calls. “The silver one is...” He says just as the silver unicorn lowers his head to sniff at Smudge Mal. The creature blows at the kitten with curiosity.

Smudge Mal takes a step back. “Could you watch it with the boogers?” the kitten asks as he scratches at his head. The top of Smudge Mal’s head glows with bits of unicorn stuff. “Spots?” Smudge Mal calls.

“Yeah?” Spots Wash responds between reaches. He misses by a hair (sorry...not sorry), then catches a bit of the white unicorn’s tail only to have it slide through his claws seconds later. The unicorn patiently swats at the kitten’s head as she would a fly.

“A little help here.” Smudge Mal calls.

Spots Wash abandons his game and runs to his older brother. “You have unicorn boogies all over your head.”

Smudge Mal glares at Spots Wash. “Clean me up.”

“No way man.” Spots Wash says. “You’re on your own with this one.”

Smudge Mal scratches at his head a couple of more times. Abandoning the scratching, the kitten moves to a tree and attempts to rub it off. The colorful glowing spreads, permeating his fur completely.

“That’s not helping.” Monitor Man points out.

Smudge Mal, Badass Browncoat Kitty, is now a walking rainbow. His unique brown smudge glows a bright, vibrating pink.

“Is everyone ready to go?” The group hears Writer Lady’s question well before they see her. As she, Tinkletoes, Dobby, and TP get closer to the group her smile grows smaller eventually disappearing completely.

“Smudgie?” She asks, staring at Smudge Mal.

Both unicorns turn to face her. She stops walking and holds an arm out to each side, stopping Tinkletoes and Dobby from continuing further.

“You were saying...” Tinkletoes prompts.

Writer Lady glares at Tinkletoes and takes the lead.

Tinkletoes looks at Dobby. “Everything is always my fault. It doesn’t matter who really did it. It’s always my fault.”

Writer Lady calms herself as much as she can before she stops to greet the unicorns, she places herself between them. Writer Lady is worried about Smudge Mal. But...unicorns. How often does someone get to meet a unicorn, much less two of them.

“Care...” Carp says as Writer Lady reaches out to one of them. The white unicorn sniffs at her closed hand and nickers her consent to a nose rub. The silver one nudges the back of her arm with his head indicating his need for a nose rub as well. “...ful.”

“Okay, okay...just a second.” She says.

“There’s a softness to her tone.” Monitor Man observes.

“It’s a little bit scary.” Carp says.

“We are in the eye of the hurricane men. Prepare to take cover.” Tinkletoes says as he, Dobby, and TP approach. “When the storm picks back up, it’s going down.”

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man. She stops petting the unicorns and crosses the road to speak with him.

“Monitor Man, do you ever do any stunts?” Tinkletoes calls out.

“Yes.” He answers without taking his eyes off of Writer Lady. “I’ve had a little bit of training.”

“You might want to use some of that trainin’ now.”

Writer Lady is a little bit over a foot away when Tinkletoes calls. “I hope you’re wearing a cup.” The self-proclaimed mercenary waits to see the pretty boy receive his first real blow.

“Hello.” Writer Lady says.

“Hello.” Monitor Man responds.

“Do you know what happened to my kitten?” She asks.

“Yes. He was getting to know the silver unicorn and it sneezed on him.”

“He’s glowing because of unicorn...”

“stuff.” Monitor Man says, finishing Writer Lady’s sentence. “Smudge Mal tried to scratch it off and that didn’t work. He asked Spots to lick it off for him and Spots said, “No.” He tried to remove it by rubbing against a tree trunk and that just spread it even more.”

“That’s why my cat looks like a rainbow?” She asks.

“That’s why your cat looks like a rainbow.” 

"She's not yelling at him, why is she not yelling at him?"  Tinkletoes mutters and stares in disbelief.

TP giggles and begins to leave.

Tinkletoes puts a hand up to stop the faerie. “Where are you going?”

“To find a chicken.” TP says.

“A chicken?”
“TP brings a chicken for the unicorn to sneeze on. The chicken rolls in the dirt, becomes rainbow colored, lays eggs, we cook the eggs, and then..." the faeirie grins stretching out the suspense, " we taste the rainbow.” He says giggling.

Communicating Openly (Well...Sort Of)

“Are you sure about that?” Monitor Man asks. “Doesn’t she work?”

Both kittens look at Monitor Man with blank expressions.

“Does she dress up and go out all day long?”

“She puts on clothes that she doesn’t want us to sit on her lap too much when she’s wearing them.” Smudge Mal says.

“She puts stringy, brown things on her legs then yells at us when we chase them.” Spots Wash shares.

“She makes a serious face when she leaves and the serious face is gone when she comes home.” Smudge Mal says.

“That sounds like going to work.” Monitor Man says. “That’s how humans pay their light bill.”

“How does spending all day away from home pay the light bill?” Spots Wash asks.

“Humans go to a place every day and do something that is previously agreed upon. In return, they get money. Humans use the money to pay the light bill, buy food, cat litter.” Monitor Man explains.

“Toy mice?” Spots Wash asks. “Is that how she gets toy mice?”

“Yes. That’s how she gets toy mice too.”

“Do you work?” Spots Wash asks.

“Yes.”

“What do you do for money?” Smudge Mal asks.

“I’m an actor.” Monitor Man announces with a smile.

The kittens look at Monitor Man and wait for more information.

“I...I...um...” He looks at the kittens. “Have you ever seen Dylan and the kids play ‘Pretend’?”

“Yes.” Smudge Mal answers.

“That’s what I do. I play pretend.” Monitor Man says.

The kittens look and at each other and then back at Monitor Man.

“Is that all?”

“They give you money for that?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than a simple game of ‘Pretend’. There are cameras, you have to wear specific clothes, your hair has to be fixed in a certain way, there’s make-up...” Monitor Man says.“...you have specific things to say, there are facial expressions that you have to use...”

“You wear make-up?” Smudge Mal asks.

“Yes.” Monitor Man answers.

“Make-up is for girls.” Spots Wash announces. “Girls and candy asses.”

Smudge Mal and Monitor Man both look at Spots Wash.

“That’s what Tinkletoes says.”

“That’s not what I said.” Tinkletoes says. “What I said was that I wished I had left the barbed wire up until Pretty Boy had gotten stuck in it.”

“I asked you if catching pretty boys was better than Ninja Zombie slaying.” Dobby says.

“I said that there ain’t nothin’ better than a pretty boy that’s been tied up and gagged. I pointed to Monitor Man and said that it would be like a dream come true to see him out of the way.”

Writer Lady’s face changes slowly. The self-proclaimed mercenary and future U.S. President (or so he thinks) watches helplessly as the anger transfers from the ginger tabby to him.

“Don’t look at me.” Tinkletoes says. “I didn’t do anything.”

Writer Lady glares at Tinkletoes.

“I didn’t do this.”

“Who did?” She asks.

“Those guys.” Tinkletoes says gesturing to Dobby and someplace outside.

“Where did they get the idea? Think about it...really hard. Could it be that all of your talk about pretty boys getting stuck in barb wire fences had something to do with this?”

Tinkletoes’ expression changes from one of concentration to realization to one of horror and finally, denial. “No. It wasn’t me.” He looks at Dobby. “Dobby, did I say, “Take Monitor Man to Faerie and play target practice with him?”

Dobby shakes his head.

“There. I didn’t do anything.” Tinkletoes says. He points to the ginger tabby, looks at Writer Lady, and says, “Get him.”

“The kittens were the ones chasing him.” Dobby argues.

Writer Lady groans with exasperation and hides her head in her hands. After several moments she raises her head and says, “They’re babies,they don’t know any better.”

“Whose fault is that?” TP's voice echoes through the hut. The sound of his giggling follows.

Writer Lady makes another sound of frustration, rises from her seat, and stops at the hut’s one and only window. It is raining. Water drips from tree leaves making intricate trails. Down, over, down, along the back of one of the larger leaves, and down again. It reminds her of a Rube Goldberg machine.

“This has gone on too long.” She says. “It’s time to go home.”

Carp and Black Buck continue walking in companionable silence.

“Unicorns.” Carp says. “According to my research, unicorns help others through obstacles that are greater than their fears.” He looks at Black Buck. “Have you been a visitor to Faerie for very long?”

The antelope smiles, “I have been traveling back and forth most of my life. I wandered through an entry by accident when I was a calf.”

“How many unicorns have you encountered?”

“A dozen or so. But I have never seen them help any living creature through an obstacle greater than their own fear.”

“When have you seen them?” Carp asks.

“Let me see...the unicorns here do appear when someone is sick.” Black Buck looks at Carp. “You don’t appear sick. Have you been bitten by anything since arriving? A Contaminavit Cimex perhaps?”

Carp shrugs.

Black Buck leans in and sniffs at Carp. “No. If you had been bit you would smell of gangrene.”

The two continue walking.

“I do believe that they have also been known to help weary travelers find their way home. Are you ready to go?”

Carp stops walking and looks at his surroundings—the meadows to the left and right, the flying bubbles carrying creatures that the retired romance writer only dreamed of seeing to magical places unknown, the road ahead...the pair continue walking as the sun disappears, obscured by a canopy of leaves. A coyote calls from behind. A lion’s roar can be heard in the distance ahead. “It would be useful to know where the road that leads home is.” Carp admits. “No. I’m not ready to go. Not by a long shot.”

“That’s too bad. We are.” A voice calls from above Carp and Black Buck’s heads.

The Old Indian

For Dad

                        

The legend of Tatanka Takoda began as many legends do with a stranger traveling through a strange land.

William Bradford was driving down a rural road in Lakota country when a tire on his pick-up blew out. He pulled over and got out of the truck to replace the tire with a spare when he spotted the remains of a wolf on the road. He removed a shovel from the bed of his truck. He scraped the young wolf’s remains from the road and apologized to the animal for the selfishness and stupidity of the human that caused it’s demise. Sitting Bull appeared to him as he tossed the animal’s remains into the ditch and said, “Welcome home Tatanka Takoda. Our people have been waiting for you.”

William looked at the newcomer and then looked back at the dead wolf. He set the shovel upright pushing the sharpened point of it into the ground and held it there. “My name is William.” He said. “I have no people.”

“Your presence is strong. Your spirit is Lakota. The people need your help.”

William looked at the stranger standing before him. He looked like the pictures that William had seen of Sitting Bull, the man spoke as he imagined Sitting Bull would. Sitting Bull was dead. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, he thought to himself. “If you are Sitting Bull then you are dead.”

“You are still talking with me.” Sitting Bull pointed out. “I noticed your spirit when you entered the county and have followed you many miles waiting for the opportunity to appear to you. If you stay here other spirits will appear to you. Spirits who have lost their way. Spirits that have grown restless and are looking for loved ones. Many need a bit of company and a moment to see Mother in the way that they remember her again.”

“I don’t talk much.” William said.

“You are kind, patient, and have a presence that these spirits will come to. There is an abandoned farm nearby. It was purchased by the tribe when the previous owners left the area. The fields are cared for but the house and gardens need someone. The spirits will find you easily there. You are a man who cares for others. Let me send you others to care for.”

William looked at something above Sitting Bull’s head then, looked back at him and nodded.

“Meet me in this spot with your things in two days.”

“Two days.” William answered. By the time he had changed his tire, put away the damaged one along with his jack and tools William was alone again. He got into his truck and drove away.

Two days later, William returned in the pouring rain and sat. He waited. He watched the rain, closed his eyes and listened to the rain. He looked at the world around him and imagined what the land would look like when the rains had stopped and the sun returned. He heard an audible thump as a car raced past on the road behind him. He put on his hat, opened the door to the truck, and got out. He made his way for the bed of the pick-up and quietly retrieved his shovel from underneath a tarp. He looked and listened for other cars before he stepped out on to the road. He scooped up the dead possum with his shovel.

At least this one didn’t suffer. William thought to himself as he walked the possum to the ditch, said the words and tossed the remains in.

“May you rest peacefully little one.” Sitting Bull said from behind William’s left shoulder.

William turned and looked at Sitting Bull.

“Welcome my brother. Let me show you to your new home.”

Sitting Bull sat down on the passenger side of the truck and guided William down one side road and up a lane. At the end of the lane was a small house, cleared out farm land with woods skirting each field, two abandoned chicken houses, an old barn, and an empty root cellar. William thought that it was one of the most beautiful sights that he had ever seen.

The house was simple but clean and in good repair. There was running water, electricity, food in the pantry, and a few cooked meals in the refrigerator. A note was set on the dining table with a phone number listed.

“That is Roberta. She is a local historian and friend of the tribe. She will help you settle in.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” William asked.

“I will be here today. I must travel this world in brief visits. I will disappear with the sunrise. I will send many to welcome you. Roberta will help you. Then the work will begin.”

That was how it went. Day after day, people stopped by. Sometimes one or two, other times, several. These people introduced themselves and said, “Welcome” or “Thank you for coming.” Many times, they left food or other small gifts.

Roberta helped William learn who everyone was, who their ancestors were, and showed him places of historical and spiritual significance. William found work, settled into the small home, and was happy. He was also restless. No spirits had visited. William felt uncomfortable accepting so much from so many kind people without giving anything in return. Roberta reassured him that his time would come. His job was to continue getting to know his new home and the people around him. William worked, took care of the house and the out buildings, planted a garden, and tended the yard. He waited. One summer afternoon while he was mowing the roof of the root cellar visitors arrived in a truck. It was loaded with covers, pins, ropes, pegs, poles, and a message, “Sitting Bull sent you this.” He nodded, turned off the mower, and walked over to the pick-up to help unload.

The tipi was set up on top of the root cellar. Sometimes William sat in it and other times, outside it. He would admire it as he worked outside. One afternoon, as he worked in the garden he looked at the tipi and noticed a warrior was sitting next to it. The warrior’s legs were crossed, eyes closed, his lips were moving as if chanting in prayer. The warrior must have felt William looking at him because his lips stopped moving and he opened his eyes.

William put down his tool, stood up, and slowly walked across the yard to greet his first non-living visitor.

“Hau.” He said, squatting to face his visitor.

“Hau Tatanka Takoda.” The warrior greeted him in return. “You made a face when I used your Lakota name. Do you not like it?”

“Names are a tool for identification.”

“There is some other reason I think.” The warrior teased.

“Sitting Bull is ‘Tatanka’. I don’t know what it means.”

“You are uncomfortable being regarded with great respect.”

William gave the warrior a nod.

“Tatanka means buffalo or bison. As you know the buffalo holds great significance to us so it has been used for leaders. Sitting Bull was a great leader. Takoda means friend to everyone. You hold significance for the tribe because you are a friend to everyone, both the living and the dead. Tatanka Takoda.”

William nodded. “Thank you. Now, what can I do to help you?” He asked.

“You thought I was coming to you for help? Sitting Bull sent me. He said that you needed help with something.” The warrior grinned.

William looked at the warrior without saying a word.

“I died suddenly in battle. As you can see I was very young. I had no wife or children. No one here. I miss the sun, watching the breeze blow through the trees. The smell of a fire.” The warrior shared.

“You need company?” William asked.

The warrior nodded.

William looked around the yard. He spotted what was left of a tree. The parts that were too small or damaged to salvage. “Do you see that pile over there?” He asked and gestured to the pile with a nod of his head.

“Yes.”

“I have to burn that on Saturday.”

“I will return on Saturday.” The warrior announced. “Thank you Tatanka Takoda. You have been most helpful.” He disappeared.

William grinned, laughed for a minute, said, “I’ll be damned,” and returned to his garden. Many years have passed since he met that first warrior. As the number of spirits he has helped grew so did his story. The tales that are told go something like this:

If you go out to the edge of Lakota territory and travel down the only side road, at the end of a lane there lies a farm. Tatanka Takoda’s farm. On the night of the Harvest Moon all of the spirits of all that Tatanka Takoda has helped appear. Human and animal alike. They glow with stardust and light the fields as if it were day.

Tatanka Takoda has grown older. He is strong and healthy. He can work longer and harder than men decades younger with little strain, which has helped the legend grow. The number of visitors have increased. Many non-Indians come now too. They wonder at his strength, health, and patience in his advancing years. When they do a breeze whispers, “Some journeys are longer than others. His is an exceptional one.”

Having A Talk

“I know what you’re going to say.” Dobby says.

“No you don’t.”

He paces in front of Writer Lady. “I do.”

“Dobby Kitty, I don’t even know what I want to say about this. How could you?”

“You have a sign running across your forehead. Bright red letters.”

“What?” is displayed on Writer Lady’s forehead just as the word escapes her lips. “Where’s a mirror?” appears.

A Cheval mirror appears in front of her.

“Really?!” is illuminated across her forehead. “OMG.” Writer Lady turns away from the mirror and calls to the hut’s ceiling. “TP...TP! Remove the sign!”

“No. TP’s still playing.”

Writer Lady’s shoulders slump forward. She thinks for a moment, stands taller, and says, “I know that you’re still playing but it’s time to stop for a little while.”

“No. TP’s having fun.”
“Isn’t play time better when everyone is having fun? Things would go a lot better if I didn’t have a sign on my forehead displaying all of my thoughts.”

“People understand you better like this.”

Writer Lady feels her patience slipping. “TP, do you like spending time at my house? If you want to continue visiting, remove this...now.” Writer Lady turns and looks at Dobby. The words “Sour Puss” are displayed on her forehead. Dobby laughs as the words disappear.

“Okay Mom. It’s gone.” Dobby says.

“Thank goodness for that.” Writer Lady finds a chair bigger than monkey size and sits down. “Now...what were you thinking?”

TP appears behind Writer Lady and floats forward into Dobby’s sight remaining just outside Writer Lady’s field of vision. The faerie spins around several times and reappears dressed as a “Mom” complete with apron, pearls, and June Cleaver hairstyle. He mimics her, waving a rolling pin for emphasis as Writer Lady speaks.

“What has Monitor Man ever done to you to make you want to kill him? Nothing. He’s your friend. We don’t go around killing our friends for sport. I didn’t raise you that way.”

Dobby looks from Writer Lady’s impassioned speech to TP’s Mother Cleaver impression and back again trying to look seriously at Writer Lady while enjoying the faerie’s antics.

“I know what you’re doing over there TP.”

The faerie stops and faces Writer Lady crossing his arms in front of him. He turns to face Dobby and holds up a sign that reads: No, She Doesn’t.

“Yes I do. Holding up a sign instead of open mimicry doesn’t make you any more quiet.”

TP mimics hitting something with his rolling pin.

“You two must really hate Monitor Man if you are kidnapping him and letting the kittens hunt him down.”

“No.” Dobby says.

Writer Lady continues her speech without acknowledging that the ginger tabby has spoken. “Monitor Man is our friend. We need to work together to resolve this problem. That’s it.”

Dobby approaches and looks into Writer Lady’s face. “No Mom, that’s not it. TP was bored. I was getting tired of the campaign stuff. It sounded like fun. We were just playing.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If you two were just playing why kidnap Monitor Man and transport him all the way to Faerie?”

Dobby looks at TP who slaps a hand to his forehead,runs it down his face, and crosses his eyes. Dobby smiles and says, “More play time.”

“More play time? That’s your explanation?” Writer Lady asks.

“Mom...you look a little angry.”

“Well let’s see..my home was invaded by pixies and an unplanned political campaign, then I end up not only in a different place but in a different dimension working to save Monitor Man, not to mention track you and the kittens down, and guess what? I still haven’t gotten any sleep.”

“Sleep deprivation is never a good thing young lady.” TP says as he waves an index finger about.

Writer Lady looks at TP, “I’m going to find something to squash you with if you don’t stop doing that.”

“Violence doesn’t work on him. You have to take away his toys.” Tinkletoes says as he enters the hut. The self-proclaimed mercenary is wet from the top down and walks with a limp. A piece of camo fabric hangs from his leg revealing bare skin.

“What happened to you?” Writer Lady asks.

“Crocodile?” He stops walking and thinks for a moment. “Gator...something scaly with really big teeth snuck up on me when I was at the riverbank.”

“This is a rainforest. What were you doing near the water?”

“When we dropped off the monkey and saw him safely to his tree he thanked us by throwing his crap at us. Him and a half dozen of his closest friends. One nailed me right between the eyes. We started on our way back when the panthers stopped for a bite to eat. I saw the water and decided to get cleaned up.

“You turned your back on two panthers?” Writer Lady asks.

“They had fresh kill. They were busy.”

“You let them kill a poor defenseless animal?”

“What was I supposed to do flick them on their noses and say, ‘Bad Kitty’? Anyway, it turns out that in Faerie, gators spend more time on the grass than in the water. Because it’s Faerie the things blend right in too.” He looks at Writer Lady and Dobby. “What is it we’re doin’ here?”

“What are they doing in there?” Monitor Man asks.

Smudge Mal and Spots Wash look at each other for a moment and turn back to Monitor Man.

“Food Provider is telling Dobby that he’s been a bad cat.” Spots Wash says.

“Dobby is arguing his side then waits a few minutes. Either Food Provider apologizes for her mistake or refuses to budge.” Smudge Mal says as he continues to answer. “If Food Provider refuses to budge then Dobby apologizes and blames everything on the faerie.”

“That’s not very nice.” Monitor Man points out.

“Dobby says that there’s tons of stuff that TP does that no one has a clue about. He figures that it all evens out.”

“Hmm...” Monitor Man says as he mulls the information over and gives the kittens a noncommittal nod. The actor looks down at the kittens who are sitting on a lower branch. The bubbles left them in a tree when Writer Lady requested that they be dropped off in a safe place. “Why do you call Writer Lady ‘Food Provider’ instead of calling her ‘Mom’ or ‘Writer Lady’?”

“She’s not our mom.” Smudge Mal says.

“We remember our mom. She is pretty, kind, warm, and has beautiful gray and white fur. She never...yells.”

“What is Food Provider to you?”

“Our kidnapper.” Smudge Mal says.

“She kidnapped us from our mother. She locked us up...inside, feeds us, and waits to dig around in our poop.” Spots Wash announces.

“We’re fairly sure that our poop must have some value that we aren’t aware of.” Smudge Mal says.

“Like the goose that laid the golden egg?” Monitor Man asks.

Both kittens nod.

“Our poop pays the light bill.” Spots Wash says with great seriousness.

Journeys

“There are two unicorns traveling with you?” Carp asks.

“Yes. We call them Leitis and Aingealag. They came to us shortly after we arrived in Faerie. Being unicorns they come and go as needed but the pair have been with us for many years.” The young man says. He scratches Aingealag under the chin and she nickers in contentment.

“Sister?” Carp asks.

“Yes. She and Leitis appeared to us when we first arrived. They have been with us ever since.”

“Have you been here long?” Black Buck asks.

“We have been here for several years.” The young man says, offering his hand. “Romani Novak.”

“Carp Fischer.”

“I hope you don’t mind my inquiry, how did you get here?” Black Buck asks.

“We were camped out on the outskirts of a village. We had not seen soldiers for several days and thought that we were safe. If we had thought that we had been spotted we would not have camped near any village much less a Jewish one. Late that night, soldiers raided the village. They killed many of the villagers during interrogation. They were looking for us when the platoon discovered that it was a Jewish village.”*

“So they took the village over.” Carp says.

“Yes. Thankfully, it was a small Zugtrupp and we outnumbered them.”

“Zugtrupp?” Black Buck asks.

“Zugtrupp, it’s German for platoon.” Carp says.

“We watched, waiting in the woods until they began relieving the homes and shops of their valuables, storing supplies, and became distracted while taking custody of the most opulent home for their headquarters. We snuck in and freed as many of the hostages as we could. We ran into the deepest part of the forest to hide. When we ventured out again we found ourselves here. Tell me Mr. Fischer, what brings you to this place? Are you a sympathizer? Are you fleeing the Germans as well?”

Carp thinks about whether he wants to question that last statement but decides against it. “No. I lost some friends here.”

“Who? I could probably tell you if they’ve passed through the village or the surrounding woods.”

Carp wonders about mentioning Dobby and the kittens for a moment then reminds himself that Romani is standing next to a unicorn.

“Have you seen a tall, muscular man flying around in a giant bubble? He’s wearing...”

Romani holds up a hand in a “quiet” gesture. “Bubbles don’t fly through the villages. They stay on the outskirts along the edge of the woods.”

“There are also two kittens, litter mates. One of them has a pair of spots on his back. They may be traveling with an adult cat...an orange tabby.”

Romani raises his hand again. “A moment,” he says. He quickly makes his way to a fish shop across the road and knocks on the door. An orange tabby answers. Romani exchanges a few words with the cat and returns.

“No. There are no new cats in the village. There are stories about two renegade kittens hunting a stranger wearing a target on his chest on the outer borders of the Meadowlands as well as an orange tabby who is strangely dressed and overly outfitted with weaponry in the rain forests to the east. The orange tabby has a native guide.”

“Is the native guide named TP?” Carp asks.

“Yes. How did you know?” Romani asks.

“The pair find a lot of trouble together. Where is the heaviest flow of bubble traffic?” Carp asks.

“Continue past my people at the north end of the village. When the road ends walk through the fields heading Northeast. You will see flying bubbles soon enough.”

“Thank you Romani. You have been most helpful.” Black Buck says.

“Yes. Thank you.” Carp says.

“You’re welcome. It is nice to see other humans. May you enjoy your stay.”

Carp and Black Buck continue their walk.

“Watch your heads!” Romani calls from behind them. “There are height restrictions but the bubbles move so fast that they don’t always keep to them.”

Carp raises a hand and waves in acknowledgment.

“What shall we do next?” Black Buck asks.

“Head Northeast to the outer borders of the Meadowlands. Either we will see Tinkletoes in a flying bubble, run into the kittens, or find our way into the rain forest. We seem to be headed in the right direction. Sooner or later we have to run into somebody.” Carp stops walking. “Did you hear that?”

“Not again.” Black Buck says.

Carp looks at Black Buck and continues walking.

A white unicorn appears behind the pair following like a devoted companion. A silver unicorn appears following the white one.

“Where is he?” Dobby asks, holding a frog up to the squirrel monkey’s face.

The monkey’s eyes grow wider with every movement of the ginger tabby’s paw.

Rain drips off of palm fronds that are visible through the window.

“Where’s Monitor Man. Tell me. Now.”

The monkey’s lips quiver for a moment and a series of high pitched chirps erupt.

“What?” Dobby asks.

The monkey repeats himself.

“Dobby?” Writer Lady calls as she enters the hut. She sees Dobby, the monkey tied to a chair, and the frog in Dobby’s paw. “Dobby! What’s going on here!”

“I have to find Monitor Man. He must be destroyed.”

“Dobby Cat, you’ll do no such thing. You’ll let the monkey go. Immediately!”

“Your mom’s right.” Tinkletoes says, walking up behind her. “You don’t need the monkey. This war exercise is over. ‘Sides, he answered your question. Let him go.”

Dobby walks to the window and places the frog on a nearby branch. “O...kay.” The ginger tabby returns to the chair, with a few swift claw passes the monkey’s restraints have been cut.

The monkey jumps from the chair, skitters across the hut, and climbs Writer Lady to sit down in the place of greatest safety. On her shoulder. He blows raspberries at Dobby.

Writer Lady looks at the monkey. “Just because you’re safe doesn’t mean that you have to be smug about it.”

The monkey kisses her on the cheek in apology and sets about checking Writer Lady’s hair for bugs and other things as she takes charge.

“Dobby, what is this place? How did you get here? Did TP put you up to this?” Writer Lady asks. Her vision comes and goes as hair appears and disappears from her line of sight. “What’s going on?” She asks, getting a mouthful of her own hair. She removes the hair from her mouth and looks at the monkey. “I understand that you’re grateful but I can’t do my thing as long as you’re doing your thing.”

The monkey drops his hands and grins in apology.

Dobby looks behind Writer Lady and says, “Take him home.” Two full grown panthers emerge from the darkness. The monkey jumps from Writer Lady’s shoulder and lands on one of the panther’s backs.

“I’ll go with them.” Tinkletoes says to Writer Lady. “And make sure that nobody eats anybody.”

Writer Lady nods and waits until hut is empty except for herself and her cat. “Dobby Cat, I think that it’s time for us to have a talk.”

*Romani Novak and his companions have been in Faerie since World War II.

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.