• called the “picker-upper thing”
• with considerably less pep
• “What do they look like, these eyeglasses?”
• my increasing cravings
• referred to as “mystery candy”

Tune in next time part 442      Click Here for Earlier Installments

William Penn XII sized me up in my new, white uniform and nodded wearily. “That’s right. I should have known this would happen if I showed up in last year’s accoutrements.”

A suspicion flared in my mind. “Did you try to usurp my part in the Spring Scampering?” He nodded again. “And the crowd turned on you?” He shook his head this time. I waited for him to explain his appearance.

“Rodney did this.” William went on to explain that only the fox seemed to care who was emceeing the event or how that person was dressed, and even though he used the special implement called the “picker-upper thing” when attempting to handle Rodney, matters quickly got out of hand. And so, a defeated William had limped out of the courtyard with considerably less pep than he’d entered it. Furthermore, when he suffered the laceration to his brow he also lost his glasses.

“What do they look like, these eyeglasses?” As far as I knew, William did not need glasses.

“They are very stylish,” he replied. “Frames covered with rhinestones, and mirrored lenses. They were necessary to satisfy my increasing cravings for fashion street cred.”

William Penn XII then droned for twenty minutes about his aim to found a designer clothing label specializing in accessories, which he referred to as “mystery candy” and described in tedious detail.

“Are you going to explain why you interfered with the ceremony?” I interrupted.

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• pair of neon lips
• It was a baby boy
• to help a frantic man
• Even your fingernails
• logical career path

Tune in next time part 440      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Watching the glitter swirl down the shower drain in my luxurious private accommodations, I tried to imagine where I would be had I followed a logical career path after the Academy, or if I had never gone there at all. There are those who believe that your destiny is written into every part of your body, “Even your fingernails,” they would say, and to those people my musings would be misguided. To them, there never was any other possible course for my life.

The spiraling trail of glitter (how much of this stuff did they smear on me?) became a hypnotic galaxy as my mind frantically tried to fit all the pieces of my life together. But no mandala has ever been able to help a frantic man come to grips with his circumstances.

In the end, I came to understand the reason why I allowed myself to end up in so many bizarre predicaments. It was a baby boy, and his twin sister, and the several other infants who called me father. Well, they would when they started talking. Yes, fatherhood had become my reason for everything, trying to create good things for my children. Did it really make sense, then, for me to accept this assignment to a remote outpost? What was Fleur up to?

When I emerged from the spa-like washroom in my quarters, I found that a whole new uniform had been laid out for me, with a note tacked to it.

“General: this is your attire for tonight. As you have probably never presided over a Spring Scampering before, there will be someone ready to prompt you at the appropriate times. However, you should be on the lookout for counter-agents who might try to lead you astray. Take your cues only from the person wearing a pair of neon lips.”

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• subtle erotic exercise
• magnificent sunburn
• the cute one
• then her hands and feet
• had to be drunk and in the dark

Tune in next time part 437      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The Contrarian way of annulling a blood feud starts off as a subtle erotic exercise, but if you do it right, you end up with nipples the color of a magnificent sunburn. There’s a lot of massaging to be done in very precise patterns, and each and every nip, nibble, and tweak must be performed in time to the chanting, and carefully counted. The notary keeps an exact tally of it all. Once the three witnesses all agree that the proper shade of red has been achieved, the cute one will decorate the female participant’s buttocks with the special ceremonial glitter that is kept in all Contrarian fortresses for use in such rituals, and then her hands and feet are likewise beglittered. The male participant (in this case, me)  is decorated with glitter of a contrasting color. It’s a very messy ceremony, as I’m sure you can imagine, but that’s what makes it exciting. Can you imagine how dull royal life would be if for every ceremony and ritual you had to be drunk and in the dark?

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• reduced to a misdemeanor
• used to live in her apartment building
• a tsunami of bitchery
• we used to be friends a long time ago
• floors scrubbed, walls painted

Tune in next time part 436      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The arrival of four uniformed observers in my bedchamber inhibited my ability to perform with Yesterday. My libido, which had been in major felony territory, was reduced to a misdemeanor.

Yesterday tried to keep things going, but soon she had to stop pretending that I hadn’t wilted. She told me about a man who used to live in her apartment building whose love life was the main subject of gossip among the other tenants. She described in vivid detail the voluptuous visitors who circulated through his rooms. “One day he had a scheduling mishap and three of them arrived at the same moment, triggering a tsunami of bitchery like I had never witnessed. And, one of the women was familiar to me. We used to be friends a long time ago, and then there she was on my neighbor’s doorstep.”

Her sultry storytelling helped take my mind off the excess personages in the room, but I was going to need more help before I could get her pregnant. She could tell, so she elaborated.

“I was a visitor for my neighbor, once. I had to see what it was like in there. I’m not sure what I had expected, but I was surprised to find the floors scrubbed, walls painted a shrill green like a poison frog. I want you to understand, I didn’t throw myself at him. No, I insisted that he charm me, even made him dance for me.” Her grip on me tightened. “I like a man who can dance.”

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• hair was a different color
• stressful enough without it becoming a spectator sport
• predicted it would be impossible
• with a stranger lying next to me
• Talk about awkward…

Tune in next time part 435      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“William showed me a picture of you,” said Yesterday. “In it your hair was a different color. Blond, I think you Americans call it.”

“That was a long time ago.” I murmured into her ear.

She gestured for me to continue as she slipped out of her fur cape.

I was still naked from earlier, so I had no undressing to do. “I used to sometimes bleach my hair. I have an identical twin, and when I was less easily mistaken for him, Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.”

“Then why don’t you bleach it now?” She tugged at the zipper of her silver lame jumpsuit, exposing a vee of dark brown skin.

“My twin started bleaching his, too. He likes to be mistaken for me.”

Yesterday’s jumpsuit pooled on the floor around her ankles like a puddle of mercury. With a smile she took hold of me and led me to the bed. As soon as she was sure she had my undivided attention, she called toward the corridor, “Send in the notary and the witnesses.”

“What?”

The door opened, and in came two men and two women wearing the uniforms of the mountain garrison under my command.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Well obviously everything needs to be done properly if the blood feud is to be annulled. The Warlord and your wife would hardly accept the gift of just any random babies. We must observe the proper rituals and file the proper paperwork for every step of the process.”

I looked in dismay at the quartet gathered around my bed. One stood at each corner, clear-eyed and attentive. Making love to my wife’s half-brother’s wife was going to be stressful enough without it becoming a spectator sport. Before today I would have predicted it would be impossible for my sex life to become more convoluted than it already was, but Yesterday’s arrival proved such predictions wrong. Here I was, in a remote mountain outpost, during a blizzard, with a stranger lying next to me, naked and waiting for me to impregnate her, while four uniformed soldiers waited to play their roles in a centuries old ceremony. Talk about awkward…

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• it’s definitely probably most likely
• lives with his reindeer-herder father
• So, bullshit and hogwash.
• vivid, annihilating heat
• foreseeing the hideous reality which awaited them

Tune in next time part 434      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Yesterday,” I said.

“But you’re making it today,” YoYo quipped.

William Penn XII favored her with an indulgent smile. “I think we should leave my wife and brother-in-law to get to know one another better, don’t you?” He stepped forward and offered YoYo his elbow. She linked arms with him and cooed about how dashing his cheek numerals looked as they glided out the door.

Whenever you hear tales about a family that’s rife with tawdry intrigue, it’s definitely probably most likely mine.

Yesterday performed the 720-degree curtsy of the eastern noble houses. Etiquette demanded that I reply with the bow of morning, noon, and night, which I had technically never done. But that bow was essentially indistinguishable from doing the worm, which I had much practice with.

“William is my second husband,” Yesterday said to me while I undulated across the floor. “My first ran off in disgrace and now lives with his reindeer-herder father. That’s the official story, but there never were any reindeer in the eastern provinces. So, bullshit and hogwash.”

“Are you and William happy?” I asked, rising and kissing her hand.

“No, but we are content. When it is time to rut we do so with vivid, annihilating heat, and the rest of the time we each have our own hobbies. His latest hobby would appear to involve yodeling.” She caressed my cheek, gazing at it in fascination. “What about you and Fleur? I know what William says, but…” She kissed my un-calligraphed skin. “I want to hear what you say.”

“Well,” I said, “she sent me off to this remote outpost. That should give you the basic tenor of our marriage.” Yesterday was smiling up at me. I kissed her gently on the lips, and though she didn’t kiss back she kept smiling. “What happens now?”

She licked her lips again. “Now, you tell me of how this fortress came to be built. I can’t believe the workers carried out their job without foreseeing the hideous reality which awaited them once it was done.” And then, she kissed me, hard, making sure I could not, in fact, tell her any such thing.

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