Tagged: pregnant

What I Didn’t Say to Oksana Was

  • by jendeal with things in the proper fashion
  • I have a good relationship with the Fahey family
  • pastel-hued ketchup packets
  • I would probably take my bra off as well
  • which necessitated three visits from the police

Tune in next time part 483      Click Here for Earlier Installments

What I didn’t say to Oksana was “well they certainly aren’t *good* ninjas” although I was sorely tempted. Instead I feigned Jason’s infamous curiosity and boyish wonder and said, “Really? Then what are they?” Being a General of the Mountain Garrisons, it behooved me to deal with things in the proper fashion, especially when those things were a potential invasion army.

“Why they’re yetis, of course,” Oksana trilled. “I have a good relationship with the Fahey family, and they’ve taught me how to train the yeti in the ways of the shadow warrior. It’s coming along quite well, as you can see for yourself.”

I myself have a good relationship with the Faheys, and they’d never mentioned ninjas in my presence. I was gaining all sorts of new insights today.

Before I could press Oksana for more information, Tatiana and John strode into the cavern. Tatiana’s abdomen was bulging with the child or children we had conceived on the crystal throne of Mingus Mint. John was wearing a ski outfit that looked like it was made from pastel-hued ketchup packets.

“I’m here representing Viscount Arlo of Svenborgia,” John announced.

“And I’m representing the Crystal Clown,” said Tatiana. “She’s even more pregnant than I am and couldn’t travel.” She winked at me. “You missed your chance, Jason. But you’re about to be an uncle several times over.”

“You’re a tough woman to brave these mountains in your condition,” said Oksana. “If I were you, I would stay at home with my shoes off and my feet up. I would probably take my bra off as well. Respect.”

Tatiana dipped her chin.

As more auction participants made their way into the chamber, I tried to keep track of them all. It reminded me of the Homecoming party during my senior year at the Academy, an event which necessitated three visits from the police, two from Interpol, and one from the International Siblinghood of Street Performers, who were there on a recruiting mission.

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The Little Man Continued to Hop and Gibber

  • by jenwith an energy peculiar to excited females
  • you are so flamboyantly much
  • A well-played violin
  • he’s always been his parents’ favorite
  • you win $50,000!

Tune in next time part 113                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

The little man continued to hop and gibber about imaginary snakes, with an energy peculiar to excited females, at least in my experience. The incongruity prompted me to look more closely and I saw that “his” beard was stuck on with spirit gum.

“Svetlana,” I sighed, peeling the scraggly thing off her chin, “you are so flamboyantly much.”

A well-played violin is precisely what her screeching reply did not sound like. The dolphin sounds echoed throughout the opera house for at least 30 seconds before she finally resorted to human words. “You’re such an asshole! Just because I tricked you into getting me pregnant, stole your clothes, and abandoned you on the train, you think that makes it okay for you to run off with your wife for months at a time?” She huffed and stuck the fake beard back on her face, crookedly. “It’s lucky for me I’ve got Thor convinced he’s the father. He’s always been his parents’ favorite, you know.”

That stung, seeing as Thor’s parents and my parents were the same parents.

Svetlana continued, “You’re such an asshole, in fact, that in the Asshole Olympics you win $50,000! Before you get too excited, you should know that’s only equivalent to the Bronze Medal.”

I didn’t dare ask who took Gold and Silver, but I did feel obligated to tell her of Thor’s current whereabouts. She could hardly trick him into raising my bastard child if the vegetable militants killed him, and that would put me in a very tight spot with my warlord father-in-law.

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Fleur’s Father Babbled

  • by Kentsent the soldiers out
  • biggest of the three asses
  • there is no way that I can stay up until 1 am anymore
  • not a matter of you versus me
  • certainly discombobulates people

Tune in next time part 102                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Fleur’s father babbled, lapsing in and out of English and not seeming to complete any of his sentences. His excitement at his daughter’s news overwhelmed his powers of speech. One thing about the idea of becoming a prophetic personage, it certainly discombobulates people, even warlords.

“Is it smart to get him so worked up?” I hissed at my impulsive wife. “You said you think it’s twins, but that means you haven’t confirmed anything.”

“Everything is under control,” she assured me. “It is the kind of thing one knows. You might dispute my claim, but it’s not a matter of you versus me. Your opinion isn’t relevant.”

“What is this prophecy, anyway?”

Fleur laughed, a nasty, savage sort of glee ringing in her voice and gleaming in her eyes. “It takes too long to explain, and there is no way that I can stay up until 1 am anymore, so you’ll have to look it up for yourself.”

As soon as I was cleaned up from the pregnancy-test ritual, I found my way to the palace library to read up on prophecies about royal twins. There were three hefty books describing such things, and in typical Contrarian fashion they all disagreed. The biggest of the three assessments of the legend gave some hints about the source of Fleur’s sinister mirth at my expense.

The 43rd stanza read,

“When they were twelve the royal sisters sent the soldiers out.
To avenge the martyred father they had heard so much about.”

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Fleur’s Kissy-Fingers Routine

  • by jenso odd and alarming
  • and tell them to be punctual
  • on their faces and chests
  • The pet shop owner’s brother was lying
  • Even if you have a razor-sharp ax

Tune in next time part 101                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Fleur’s kissy-fingers routine was so odd and alarming that at first I did not respond. She glared at me and kept up the smoochy noises until I finally pursed my own lips and kissed her thumb.

She nodded once in approval, then popped a gummy baby in her own mouth and sat behind me on the marble steps while I caught my breath.

“So you’re really pregnant?” I asked.

“Yes,” my wife replied. “I’ve known for a few days. I think it’s going to be twins, since they run in your family.” She grabbed my collar and hauled me onto my knees, then shoved my face up next to her stomach. “Say hello to your children, the future rulers of Contraria, and tell them to be punctual.”

She held me in place until I mumbled platitudes into her abdomen. Once she released me, I said, “You’ve known for days? That means we could have gotten a lot more sleep!”

Fleur laughed at me. “Get used to being tired. When our babies are born it will fall to you to make sure they have smiles on their faces and chests full of joy.”

“Don’t you use nannies?”

“Of course not, silly man. That’s what husbands are for.”

I thought back to my wedding to Fleur. At the rehearsal dinner the pet shop owner and his brother regaled me with tales of their sister’s work as a nanny for the Contrarian royals (it is considered good luck in Contraria to have a pet shop owner at your wedding). The pet shop owner’s brother was lying then, along with his brother, or my own wife was lying now. I hoped the liar was my wife, because I really had no desire to spend the next several years of my life in Contraria caring for children, even my own.

The warlord strode up, beaming with pride. “This child you two have created will bind Contraria and the US forever!” he boomed. “There will be no severing of the ties between our countries. Even if you have a razor-sharp ax.”

“It’s twins, Daddy.”

“Twins!” The warlord’s eyes grew wide. “If that’s true then that fulfills the prophecy!”

 

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