• once slashed at my stomach with a penknife
• like a crafty red squirrel
• every time a movie features punk rockers
• sang three little boys together
• smeared himself with Susan’s lipstick

Tune in next time part 836      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Nay!” roared Bruce Pamplemousse pretentiously. “It is Tycho whose claim is false!”

“Prove it!” I shouted. “Show us your own certificate.”

“I don’t have it with me,” Bruce whined.

“So, go get it,” I retorted.

Bruce fixed his gaze on Tessa. “No one is less entitled to rule the moon than your father. He once slashed at my stomach with a penknife, like a crafty red squirrel with a penknife. I was just a boy, and he attacked me. He’s so uncouth and unmannered, every time a movie features punk rockers I expect one of them to be him.”

Tessa leaned to me and whispered, “As far as I know, my father’s never met any of the Pamplemousses.”

Meanwhile, the talent show’s finale was trying to resume but devolving into chaos. The performers weren’t waiting for their cues. “Hey now, get your butt off the stage,” sang three little boys together. In the wings, Fleur demanded of another woman, “Susan, get this mess under control!”

Susan marched out to Bruce to tell him his time was up. Bruce winked at her and put his arms around her, and smeared himself with Susan’s lipstick in the process.

I yelled, “Get a room, you two!” Sending Susan off alone with Bruce Pamplemousse felt wrong, but she seemed to know what she was doing.

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• because we walk on them all the time
• joined by the Professor’s girlfriend
• “You are irresponsible!”
• meet in the parking lot
• the limited demands of the animals

Tune in next time part 198                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Jem and Jem tittered at my awkwardness.

“We’re good at balancing on corpses,” Jemma said.

“That’s because we walk on them all the time,” added Jemima.

Jim sounded agitated. “We should have been joined by the Professor’s girlfriend by now. That woman is irresponsible.”

“You are irresponsible!” came a shrill shout. A one-legged woman stood on the far side of the room, waving a sheet of paper. “Because of you, the Professor’s been kidnapped!” She held the note still for a moment, and I could read it plainly because the pasted-on letters were so large.

“Bring us acorns and worms! Be ready to meet in the parking lot at dusk. No dogs!”

Jim, Jemma, and Jemima said, in breathy unison, “The squirrels have aligned with the birds.”

I took advantage of their stupor over the limited demands of the animals to leap from the operating table and squelch rapidly out of the room.

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• attracted by the scent
• resuscitating a knocked out fighter with a hand job
• took you for granted
• the nightmare that keeps on giving
• ribbons of lavender

Tune In Next Time Part 52                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Fred bound my wrists with ribbons of lavender and silver, at Dr Stiletto’s suggestion. They might look frilly and dainty, but the damn things were too tough for me to tear through, and cut into my skin.

Now that I was harmless, Minka moved close and stared into my eyes. I tried to make them glassy and vacant so that she wouldn’t guess her hold on my psyche had slipped. She smiled and laid her hand against my cheek, a vivid reminder that Minka Stiletto’s affections were the nightmare that keeps on giving. Years of therapy had rid me of the worst of the PTSD, but I could feel the memories crawling out of their dark holes once again to haunt me.

“I took you for granted last time,” she snarled into my ear. “A mistake I will not make again. You will quack like a duck for me whenever you hear a doorbell, and you will be my eager love slave when you hear me snap my fingers.”

She held her hand in front of my face and snapped, and the effect of her hypnotic power on my libido was like resuscitating a knocked out fighter with a hand job, if that’s not too graphic a metaphor.

Minka Stiletto arched one eyebrow at my very visible reaction to her words.

From every tree along the street, squirrels emerged from their hiding places and scurried toward us. Minka explained, “They’re attracted by the scent of your pheromones, darling boy.”

I thought about the sorts of things squirrels liked to eat and shuddered. Luckily for me only certain parts of my mind were under Minka’s control. I could still resist, plot her defeat and my escape from both her clutches and a rodenty fate.

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