Tagged: food

I’d Learned to Tune Out Exhaustion

  • by Kentweird cotton candy grapes
  • how many dollars a live yeti could be sold for
  • “Oo, yeah. Robots.”
  • find you a new cloak
  • dark and sexy

Tune in next time part 884      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I’d learned to tune out exhaustion over the years, so it took a moment of deliberate reflection to assess my current state. Yeah, I was borderline delirious with lack of sleep. And, I was ravenously hungry. Functioning without nourishment is another skill one develops in the spy biz, but the key is to focus on the task at hand and deny your body’s basic physical imperatives, so now that I’d considered food I could think of nothing else. Alarmingly, the thing I craved was the weird cotton candy grapes they had in the commissary at Enigma Fortress. But perhaps that wasn’t so strange. My memories of my time in the Paradoxica Mountains were fond ones. That frozen landscape  seemed a place where I could be happy, especially if I didn’t have to be in command of the garrison. I might find out how many dollars a live yeti could be sold for. I might find a place to settle down with Tessa and/or her many robot duplicates.

Small Dennis said, “Oo, yeah. Robots.”

I had no idea how much I’d said out loud. If I couldn’t keep my shit together better than that, leaving the spy game wasn’t going to be optional. I chanced a look at Fleur. She was smiling. That always makes me nervous, but it looked like a kind smile.

“I could tell the captain to change course,” she said. “Drop you off at Enigma Fortress in a day or two, which gives us time to find you a new cloak, something dark and sexy.”

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The Iron Clown’s Laughter

  • by jenmy teeth start tingling
  • Whenever I eat grapes near her
  • skyrocketing banana demand
  • Blink once if
  • wrote “I love you” in his own blood

Tune in next time part 859      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The Iron Clown’s laughter reverberated through me and made my teeth start tingling. I clamped my jaw tightly shut to make it stop, but it did little good. The tingle intensified. (Whenever I eat grapes near her, my wife gets incredibly horny, something she also describes as an intensifying tingle. I can only assume the two sensations are not actually very similar.)

Titania said, “Once we empty this airship’s larders, our faction’s skyrocketing banana demands will be met at last. Blink once if you’re as excited as I am.”

Whether BimBam blinked or wrote “I love you” in his own blood, I could not tell because my head was still swaddled in the horse costume, but Titania seemed pleased.

“Without their favorite yellow snack, all the children aboard will be quite upset,” BimBam said with smug glee.

“All of them but mine,” Titania agreed. “I’ll bring mine along to our banana-filled paradise, their father as well.” I felt her pat Big Dennis’s butt. “I have further plans for him.”

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The Infants Tired Themselves Out Laughing

  • by jenthoughtfully curated selection
  • attempting to reenter the United States
  • celebrities promoting the toad medicine
  • referred to it as “defensive cooking”
  • provides the optimal angle for all kinds of

Tune in next time part 825      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The infants tired themselves out laughing, so Talent Show Part 2 had a lengthy intermission for nap time. I perused the thoughtfully curated selection of international candy bars at the refreshment stand, some of which I hadn’t tasted since my chocolate smuggling friend got picked up attempting to reenter the United States after being deported. It wasn’t even his blackmarket sweets that got him in trouble, but rather a snake oil scheme he’d promoted years earlier. Instead of snakes he got his juice from toads, and he even had celebrities promoting the toad medicine, which is what drew all the attention. The health department raided the lab where he did what they referred to as “mad science,” while he referred to it as “defensive cooking” because he was often high on his own supply. His slogan was “Toad Butter provides the optimal angle for all kinds of fun!”, which was a terrible slogan, in my opinion.

I excitedly chose a half-dozen candy bars from countries I’d never even heard of and unwrapped the first one with a smile on my face.

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“Dammit,” Jim Said Around a Mouthful of Churro

  • by jenfrom the cloaca of a quartz tortoise
  • have to find a back-up baby tuxedo
  • Cobwebby.
  • despite the ketchup and clam juice
  • use it in a rap song

Tune in next time part 821      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Dammit,” Jim said around a mouthful of churro. “I had a lot of money riding on that polo match. With it cancelled, where I am I gonna get my big score?”

“From the cloaca of a quartz tortoise, of course,” I said, referencing the secret compartment where my father used to hide his cash. Jim chuckled.

Isolde’s voice came through the loudspeaker next. It sounded like she’d just wrestled the microphone away from Fleur. “In place of the polo match we will be holding an infant talent show in the auditorium. Anyone who wants to compete will have to find a back-up baby tuxedo and a baby to go in it.” Something about Isolde’s voice sounded dusty. Cobwebby.

“Is she high?” I asked no one in particular.

“I assume you’ll want to attend this talent show,” said Jim. “Since all the babies on board are yours.” He stepped up to the churro stand in search of dipping sauce, and despite the ketchup and clam juice being clearly labeled, dunked his churro in both.

I stared in horror. If Jason were here he’d find a way to describe how disgusting it was and use it in a rap song. In his absence I merely gagged.

“Well?” Jim asked. “Are we going to this talent show? I’ll call my bookie.”

“Yes,” Tessa said, ice in her voice. “Tell, me, are we going to go sit in a room full of your baby-mamas?”

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Rosenkrantz and His Tall Companion

  • by jencreated a lot of real headaches
  • hungry yet oddly belligerent
  • medieval nonsense from an old song
  • world’s least-sexual use of lips
  • as though by magic

Tune in next time part 805      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Rosenkrantz and his tall companion ceased being polarized in perfect synchronicity, as though by magic. The final stage before normalcy resumed had their facial features squirming around like an organic Rubik’s cube, truly the world’s least-sexual use of lips. Nonsense words sprang from those writhing lips, sounding like medieval nonsense from an old song.

“Better get some pickles ready,” Tessa said.

I nodded. Polarization makes one hungry yet oddly belligerent about eating. If you weren’t able to cram some food into a recent polarizee’s mouth pretty immediately it created a lot of real headaches.

Then I had another thought. “We could just leave.”

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Choosing a Code Name

  • by jenyou rapacious bird of prey
  • ever seen an old lady with a secret
  • using a plain old corkscrew
  • room-quaking vocal performances
  • not even her children knew

Tune in next time part 803      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Choosing a code name is something you shouldn’t overthink. Everyone wants something badass, something that will inspire one’s enemy to gasp, “Night Talon, you rapacious bird of prey! I surrender!” But it rarely works out that way. Mostly they laugh because you tried too hard. For that reason I was leaning more toward the seahorse or spaghetti end of the spectrum. I opted for Seahorse because it seemed the most innocuous. I mean, have you ever seen an old lady with a secret pasta recipe? They are vicious! My own grandmother once pinned my Aunt Züg’s hand to the table using a plain old corkscrew when Züg tried to guess the secret ingredient in her infamous buttered noodles. Züg gave one of the most room-quaking vocal performances I’ve ever heard, screaming in pain and outrage. That was the thing about Granny. Not even her children knew what might set her off.

So anyway, code names chosen, Enzo and the Seahorse were finally ready to make their next move.

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“What Happened to Timmuth-A Through Timmuth-D?”

  • by jenno easier way to put someone in a box
  • gently inserting the tines around the circumference
  • on a gondola in Venice
  • drinking mimosas in secret
  • the Aztec twelve-step

Tune in next time part 787      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“What happened to Timmuth-A through Timmuth-D?” I asked, knowing it wouldn’t be pretty. Mimes are ruthless.

“There’s no easier way to put someone in a box and get them to stay there than to kill them.” Tessa looked haunted. “At least that’s what Timmuth-E said.” She’d picked up the pickle skewer and was gently inserting the tines around the circumference of the kosher dill she’d been nibbling on.

“That’s pretty dark,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting you to say they were all on a gondola in Venice, drinking mimosas in secret or anything, but, shit, man. Mimes.”

Tessa nodded solemnly. “Mimes are the worst.”

“Except Timmuth-E helped you escape…”

“No he didn’t. He slipped up and spilled some intel he shouldn’t have, that’s all.”

“What was it?”

She looked me dead in the eye and said something that took my breath away. “He taught me the twelfth and final step of the Aztec twelve-step.”

I couldn’t believe it. “You mean…”

She nodded and threw back another bite of pickle.

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Mincers and Bustlers Alike

  • by jenroom to enjoy pickles
  • drunk and frisky
  • gathered there in St Mungo’s
  • I kept a toothbrush there
  • wiping the perspiration from his forehead

Tune in next time part 783      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Mincers and bustlers alike were tripping over their feet far more than even the scathing reviews had led me to expect. When I realized where they had just come from, it all made sense. Every Royal Contrarian Airship has a Pickle Chapel (a room to enjoy pickles in), and Contrarian pickles have a very high alcohol content. Spending time with high-octane phallic objects had left the dancers drunk and frisky, and promised to make their next show quite interesting. I wondered why they were gathered there in St Mungo’s Pickle Chapel. It was nowhere near the auditorium.

“Let’s go in,” I said to Tessa. The pickle chapel was one of my favorite places. I spent so much time in St Mungo’s, I kept a toothbrush there. Once Tessa tasted the pickles, she’d forget all about giving me a tattoo.

We dodged around the inebriated dancers and entered the hush of the chapel. The bartender looked exhausted, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with one hand while refilling the pickle barrels with the other.

The sting of vinegar and alcohol in my nostrils made my eyes water. Tessa seized a pickle skewer from the tray on the bar and grinned. “I was looking for something sharp to give your tattoo with!”

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The Last Time I Saw Isolde

  • by jenlantern-jawed hero
  • vinyl purse full of Jell-O
  • brought these two miscreants aboard
  • leprechauns are land-based organisms
  • make him look and sound positively ridiculous and dainty beyond belief

Tune in next time part 735      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The last time I saw Isolde was at Enigma Fortress, right after she’d given birth to a large number of babies. I never did manage to get an accurate count before I had to leave my post to venture into the caves beneath it. If she didn’t know who these children’s father was, they must not be from that magnificent brood we’d somehow created together. But she was right, they were probably mine. I wondered who their mother was.

Isolde sighed in frustration. “Act like the lantern-jawed hero and answer me! Don’t just sit there like a vinyl purse full of Jell-O. Time is of the essence. I didn’t see who brought these two miscreants aboard the zeppelin. I think they might be spies.”

“Spies?” I cried. “That’s ridiculous. They look barely old enough to walk.”

“I’ll just put them in the tub and we’ll see. If they float, then they must be leprechauns, and are therefore spies disguised as babies.”

“Hang on, hang on!” I said. This bathtub was crowded enough already. “First of all, leprechauns are land-based organisms. And second, what if they don’t float? I can’t let you try to drown innocent babies.”

Isolde shook her head and addressed her sister. “Fleur, I can’t believe your husband. His bizarre opinions and all the bubbles make him look and sound positively ridiculous and dainty beyond belief.”

Fleur just chuckled and licked the cheese.

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“We’ll Eat the Cheese Together in the Bath”

  • by jenanother few weeks of gliding
  • starting to look a little naked
  • It was a gorgeous day and the birds were chirping
  • and a middle finger
  • a ninety percent chance of success!

Tune in next time part 733      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“We’ll eat the cheese together in the bath, Lady and the Tramp-style,” Fleur declared. “It’ll be messy, but there will be plenty of time to clean up. It will take another few weeks of gliding through the skies before we arrive in Contraria.”

The little bell beside the dumbwaiter dinged. Fleur opened it and pulled out a very runny wedge of creamy, stinky Camembert. She balanced it on the edge of the tub and slipped her robe off. “I’m starting to look a little naked,” she said as she stepped in beside me.

It was a gorgeous day and the birds were chirping in the zeppelin’s aviary, and a middle finger was lifted by fate in my direction. Luckily the bathtubs on Contrarian Royal Airships are quite large. I managed to keep myself in the middle, between the two women, and so far Fleur had not noticed Tessa’s presence. If the THC content of the cheese was high enough and I got Fleur to eat enough of it quickly enough, my plan to protect Tessa stood a ninety percent chance of success!

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