Tagged: brother

The Spy Spoke at Length

  • by jenthat medicine cannot cure
  • wrasslin’ around with a wet individual
  • meticulously mapped out
  • by all means, fuck who you want to fuck
  • laser danger!

Tune in next time part 381      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The spy spoke at length in his outrageous accent about how he and his mysterious female contact shared the kind of love that medicine cannot cure. After half an hour I was tired of hearing about it, so I left him alone with Fleur and went up one floor to the basement. I had seen a coffee machine there on the way down.

My brother Jim was there, still in his blue panda costume. He’d been following behind us on the stairs, but having six infants strapped to his torso really slowed him down. At the moment he was changing the diaper of one of my quadruplet sons.

“How’s it going, Jim?” I asked.

In a surprisingly upbeat voice he said, “At the moment, brother, I’m wrasslin’ around with a wet individual. Things could be better. But all things considered,” he shrugged his shoulders to indicate the other five babies, “they could also be much worse.”

“Coffee?” I asked, hefting the pot.

He nodded, his big blue panda head wobbling. “You know, I always thought that you had your future meticulously mapped out, you and Jason both. I expected him to end up with Kelly and you to end up with Tessa. But now, you’ve got so damn many kids by so many women. And more on the way!”

“Hey, that Isolde thing wasn’t my idea,” I said.

“I’m not judging,” Jim drawled. “By all means, fuck who you want to fuck. That’s between you and your wife, and she seems to be cool with it. At least so far. But man, I wouldn’t want to cross her if I were you.” He strapped the newly diapered baby into its harness and sat down beside me to cradle a mug of coffee between his panda paws. “Those blue eyes of hers pose a real laser danger!”

“Fleur and I have an understanding,” I said. I heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, and hoped that that continued to be true.

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“You’ve Forgotten the Man You Married Just One Day Ago?”

  • by jenI got my eye on you
  • two urchins upon their knees
  • all the stains matched
  • also many gulls
  • their hideous noise increased

Tune in next time part 337      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“You’ve forgotten the man you married just one day ago?” I asked Isolde. “I am shocked by proxy.” I unbuttoned my jacket and handed my daughter to Fleur.

Fleur flashed a devilish smile. “Perhaps I should make you Harry’s proxy again, and while you’re tending to Isolde I can make Jim your proxy.”

“But you’ve just given birth!” Isolde cried, holding up my son as proof. “You can’t make proper use of him!”

“I got my eye on you,” I said, pointing at Jim. Turning back to Fleur and her sister I said, “He’s married to UnderDuchess Esmerelda of Svenborgia, you know. Probably in league with that dick Arlo.”

“At least you know I’m not hiding a jetpack,” Jim drawled, flexing his naked torso.

“A Svenborgian by marriage?” Fleur said. “Show me your papers.”

Jim hooked a finger into the pocket of his tight jeans and pulled out his diplomatic credentials. It featured the Svenborgian crest, an etching of the country’s first king and queen at a nude beach, sitting crosslegged on either side of a sandcastle, the two urchins upon their knees a spiky warning of Svenborgia’s maritime prowess. Most countries use intricate stamps and raised seals on their official documents, but Svenborgia prefers smudges made from a rare green coffee that is grown and brewed exclusively along the Svenborgian coast. Looking at Jim’s passport, all the stains matched the expected color, but the only way to be sure was to taste them. Fleur’s delicate tongue emerged from her mouth and flicked quickly across the uppermost green smear.

“It’s authentic,” she declared. “Yum. I’ve always loved that flavor.” As an aside to Isolde she said, “The viscount always let me lick his whenever we were together.”

I’d heard rumors that Svenborgia’s green coffee had hallucinogenic properties, which might explain what my wife saw in Arlo.

As the sisters continued their study of my brother’s credentials, I decided that someone needed to fly the zeppelin. I looked through the window and discovered that we were surrounded by seabirds. There were terns and albatrosses, and also many gulls. Many, many gulls. Soon their hideous noise increased so that their cries could be heard inside the gondola.

“Where exactly are we headed?” I asked Fleur.

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The Brunette Man’s Tight Jeans Were Sweaty

  • by jenseemed to me, judging from his fingers,
  • like sunny springtime afternoons come to life
  • on live television for five hours
  • there is liquor aboard
  • this creepy incognito turtle

Tune in next time part 335      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The brunette man’s tight jeans were sweaty, his torso bare. It seemed to me, judging from his fingers, all wrinkled and pruny — and of course those sweaty jeans — that it must have been a veritable sauna inside that panda suit. Fleur and Isolde didn’t seem to notice his dishevelment. Or perhaps they found it attractive. They looked at him like he was a vernal deity, like sunny springtime afternoons come to life. I knew he was used to that reaction. I saw him talk about it on live television for five hours on at least two occasions, and in person innumerable times. He was my brother Jim, and women really liked Jim.

Fleur smiled coquettishly at him and said, “Welcome to my zeppelin. There is liquor aboard.”

“What are you doing here, Jim?” I asked. “The last time I saw you was in Dr Belladonna’s subterranean rocket surgery.”

“What was I supposed to do? Leave my niece and nephew unguarded when I saw the viscount putting on this creepy incognito turtle costume?”

“It was an armadillo,” Isolde said, batting her eyelashes.

“How did you get on my wife’s aircraft carrier?” I demanded.

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“That Aphrodisiac Gum Sure Packs a Punch”

  • by jentransported out west
  • in the grip of the headache
  • picture of the burly child
  • holding her indelicately by the shoulders
  • already commenced incipient flirtations

Tune in next time part 311      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“That aphrodisiac gum sure packs a punch,” Jason lisped by my elbow. He was watching John get himself smeared with clown makeup in Carla’s writhing embrace. I meanwhile turned my attention back to Jove who had ceased his naked leaping and already commenced incipient flirtations with Tessa. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact she dangled upside down from the rafter to put herself in range of my overly tall brother.

The next thing I knew, Jove was holding her indelicately by the shoulders and kissing her roughly, the very picture of the burly child manhandling a lollipop.

I felt myself in the grip of the headache that had been stalking me ever since my sojourn in the sewer. I massaged my temples. Somehow I had to get John and Tessa away from their latest conquests and onto the plane so that we could get off this godforsaken rock. They were already naked, so at least that part of the pilot’s demands would be easily met.

“Attention!” I barked. “Your attention, please!” Nobody even looked at me. “The plane will be leaving in five minutes.” It had always been Tessa’s fondest wish to visit the Grand Canyon, so I added, “Anyone who wants to be transported out west must board now!”

The rest of them could stay here with the Fire Eaters and TechnoPagans and all the circus cosplay and sex games if they wanted, but I wasn’t about to leave without Tessa.

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With a Mighty Swing of My Arms

  • by jen“I believe your name is Troy.”
  • I’ve heard old Rosie was a wild one
  • father of three of her children
  • still married to another man
  • seems, like, hard and stuff.

Tune in next time part 309      Click Here for Earlier Installments

With a mighty swing of my arms, I whipped Jove’s boots at the two nearest Fire Eaters. The rare earth minerals clinging to their soles ignited in the eye-watering fumes wafting from the Fire Eaters’ mouths. In seconds, a chain reaction of explosions rid the clearing of the entire Fire Eater war party, and a good number of the TechoPagans as well.

The Mizzenpreistess stepped forward unscathed, and pointed a bony finger at me. “I believe your name is Troy.”

I couldn’t imagine where she’d gotten that idea as I didn’t look much like my brother Troy or his twin Trent. We didn’t even have the same father.

The old woman read my incredulity on my face, or maybe my eyebrows were still giving coded messages. Either way she laughed and said, “I’ve heard old Rosie was a wild one.”

My mother’s name is ZsaZsa, and my father calls her Ralph, but to her siblings she was always Rosie. Was this TechnoPagan priestess my aunt? I tried to think which of Mother’s sisters she might be.

“Wild Rose we called her,” the woman continued. “Always carrying on with married men. Did you know that the Warlord of Contraria is the father of three of her children, at least, and she’s still married to another man? She said she had to stay in the marriage to keep up appearances so she could be president, but that seems, like, hard and stuff.”

“She and my father have an understanding,” I muttered. I’d always wondered why Mother had such a soft spot for Contraria, and this might explain it. I could only assume that I was not one of the children fathered by my father-in-law. I took comfort in the strong resemblance I paid to Jack, the man I’d always been told was my sire.

Standing among the smoldering remains of so many Fire Eaters, Jason looked hard at the Mizzenpriestess and asked, “Are you our fabled Aunt Xylona?”

I gasped, knowing it must be true.

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Carla’s Enormous Red Clown Shoes

  • by jenI want to examine them
  • robbing a grocery store
  • Come on, say it! Say “April Fool!”
  • does not actually go into the fire
  • torpedoing your most intimate relationships

Tune in next time part 307      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Carla’s enormous red clown shoes flopped and slapped against the ground as she gamboled with her husband. Jove’s shiny black riding boots made him much more nimble. There appeared to be something unusual stuck to their leather soles. I got Tessa’s attention, and through the nimble movements of my eyebrows and the use of the Mexican Painter’s Code, silently indicated his boots and said, “I want to examine them.”

She wriggled her eyebrows in agreement. It felt good to be on the same side as her again, like that rush you get when you’re robbing a grocery store pharmacy.

At long last, Jove allowed himself to be cornered by Carla. He had his back to the bubbling mud pit and raised his hands in surrender.

Carla aimed the oversized flower in her lapel at him and said, “Say my name, bitch! Come on, say it! Say ‘April Fool!’” She waved the flower menacingly.

Tessa’s eyebrows said, “April? I thought her name was Carla.”

My eyebrows shrugged.

Below us, Jove was whimpering “April Fool” over and over, and stripping out of his ringmaster garb. As he doffed each piece of finery, his clownwife scooped it up and tossed it into one of the flames of the ceremonial torches in each corner. Until he got to his hat. He removed it reverently from his head and said, “Remember, this does not actually go into the fire,” and placed it atop her rainbow wig.

As she pulled a tube of greasepaint from her pocket and squirted a healthy portion onto her hands while eyeing up my naked brother, I decided I’d had enough. I dropped down from the rafters, and said, “Pardon me for torpedoing your most intimate relationships, Jove, but I think your boots are my ticket off this island.”

I scooped the patent leather footwear off the floor of the hut, and the jodhpurs, too, when I remembered that I was naked.

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With a Shrug, Jason and I Stripped

  • by jen“Here I am and in I’m coming.”
  • frantic desire to throw his feet in the air
  • a total of five times
  • with a ceramic squirrel
  • he gave a muffled buzz

Tune in next time part 305      Click Here for Earlier Installments

With a shrug, Jason and I stripped. We were twins after all, so seeing each other naked was just like looking in a mirror. It was a relief to be out of my burlap sack from the submarine.

We lined up behind John, with Tessa bringing up the rear. As I belatedly wondered where John’s escape plane could be hidden, and why its captain would insist on nudity from his passengers, all sounds from outside the hut ceased. The eerie quiet was breached moments later by waves of whispers from the squabbling Fire Eaters and TechnoPagans in the village.

“The King!” they whisper-shouted. “The King!”

There followed a ceremonial fanfare played upon honking clown noses, and then an all-too-familiar voice said, right outside our temple hut, “Here I am and in I’m coming.” It was either Jove or Jupiter.

Jason’s eyes went wide and I could read upon his face his frantic desire to throw his feet in the air and flee. I’m not sure where he picked up such an unusual sprinting technique, but I’d seen him use it a total of five times.

The sixth time would not be now, because there was only one way out of this hut and it led straight into Jove’s arms. Unless they were Jupiter’s.

Tessa leapt up and grabbed the rafter above her head, and pulled herself up onto it. In a snap, John, Jason, and I all followed her. The four of us yanked our dangling legs up just as the packing tape strips over the doorway parted, flooding the interior of the temple hut with moonlight.

I watched from above as my brother, still in his flamboyant ringmaster garb, rode into the room upon the back of his clown wife. I recognized them as Jove and Carla. Once they thought they were alone, Jove climbed down and Carla rose to her feet. Jove said, “Thank you my darling,” and presented her with a ceramic squirrel small enough to fit in her mouth, which is where she put it. She gave a muffled buzz of contentment.

Jove was so tall, his top hat was mere inches below our hiding place. If Carla looked up she would see us, and that would be a disaster.

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John Wriggled Out of the Duffle Bag

  • by jentalking about his hang gliding
  • when no one’s watching
  • raising exotic fish
  • “Lactose intolerant? Swell.”
  • smelling my feet?

Tune in next time part 297      Click Here for Earlier Installments

John wriggled out of the duffle bag and lay on the floor of the hut while Tessa cooed about how happy she was to see his face and his equipment, and I’m not talking about his hang gliding gear.

“You gonna put some pants on or what?” I asked.

“I usually only do that when no one’s watching,” he said, and stayed naked.

Jason leaned in and lispered in my ear, “I haven’t seen a worm like that since I was at the Contrarian National Aquarium, raising exotic fish.”

The mud pool continued to churn and burp up thick bubbles. “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “That thing seems lactose intolerant.”

Jason laughed. “Lactose intolerant? Swell.” He started for the door.

Before I could follow, John rolled across the floor to where I was standing and buried his nose between my toes. Was he smelling my feet? If so, that could only mean one thing.

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“Do You Think We’re Robots”

  • by jena unique view
  • “My mother makes them every day,” she whispered.
  • couldn’t buy their silence
  • where your imagination goes
  • Looks like Russians

Tune in next time part 295      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Do you think we’re robots, Tessa?” Jason lisped.

“That would be a unique view,” she replied, rising to her feet.

“Because that would be a mistake,” my brother added.

“It’s hilarious to hear you talk about mistakes,” Tessa said as she rounded on him. “My mother makes them every day,” she whispered. “But I never do.”

Both Tessa’s parents lived off the grid in defiance to Mother’s belief that we couldn’t buy their silence, so I didn’t know why Tessa would mention the woman now. My mind spun all sorts of doomsday scenarios. It’s amazing where your imagination goes when you’ve had the kind of day I’ve had.

Keeping a wary eye on Tessa I bent down and pretended to examine some footprints on the dusty floor. “Looks like Russians built this place,” I fibbed.

Tessa gasped. “Lyudmila? Or Svetlana?”

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Tessa Seemed Not At All Bothered

  • by jentaking a drive after the prom
  • some submarine convulsion
  • doing some kind of grinding
  • I’ll give any kind of deposition you want
  • Is the lady to my right madly in love with me?

Tune in next time part 293      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Tessa seemed not at all bothered by either the mudman’s appearance or his disappearance. She leaned back and lazily kicked her foot in the puddle as if it were a sun-dappled pond. With a smile she said, “I know what each of you is thinking. Is the lady to my right madly in love with me? Or is she in love with my brother? And the answer to your questions is Yes.”

The problem was that Tessa was to our left. While I tried to work out what her message really meant, Jason plunged ahead with the most awkward flirting imaginable. “Let’s play courtroom. You be the sexy DA, Tessa, and I’ll give you any kind of deposition you want.” He finished his speech by doing some kind of grinding, strutting dance that I recognized from his wedding rap routine.

Before Tessa could respond, some submarine convulsion caused a thick roil of bubbles in the mud pit. Her smile dropped and her face took on a serious expression, completely unlike that of a horny teen taking a drive after the prom.

“Finally,” she said.

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