Tagged: tune in next time

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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Ah, Aren’t You the Clever Nephew

  • by Kent: smart assassins
  • little Eskimo girls
  • go around all day long with a harp
  • “You’ll be playing an elderly butler.”
  • I’m not a fan of things that obscure the female body

Tune in next time part 310      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Ah, aren’t you the clever nephew,” the Mizzenpriestess — our aunt Xylona — said to Jason. I let the misunderstanding pass. She went on, “That’s just what we need right now: smart assassins.”

“Which is he?” I asked. “A nephew, or an assassin?”

“Why can’t I be both?” Jason complained.

Xylona pursed her lips and squinted at me. “We don’t need smart-asses; I said smart assassins.” Then she winked, her left eye becoming momentarily twice as squinty. “Now, why hasn’t John come out yet? The plane’s all gassed up.”

“You’re the pilot?” Jason asked. “Can you get us off this rock?”

“Darling nephew, I can fly you to the place where little Eskimo girls go around all day long with a harp.”

“Why not a harp seal?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

She gave me another borderline scowl. “You’ll be playing an elderly butler.” Then she smiled. “If they even let you join their band. Now tell John to stop clowning around in that hut and let’s go.”

I noticed that Tessa was also unaccounted for, so I nominated myself to return to the hut and see what was going on. Tessa was still up on her rafter, with Jove jumping around trying to catch her in a way that filled me with the desire to give him back his jodhpurs. As for John, he was becoming better acquainted with Carla.

I’m not a fan of things that obscure the female body, and John’s derriere was proving to be no exception.

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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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My Flight-Departure Gambit

  • by Kentthree grotesque human figures
  • and her boyfriend Dennis
  • a single powerful bite
  • It’ll be a great workout
  • Brooklyn Bridge costume

Tune in next time part 312      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My flight-departure gambit was having no effect on the torchlit baccanal in the temple hut, so I switched to the direct approach.

“Tessa! We need to go now!”

She wrenched her face away from Jove’s and glared at me. Reflected in her eyes were three grotesque human figures and her boyfriend Dennis from her undercover days after Academy. I blinked, realizing that the fourth shadowy reflection was in fact my own, with Jason’s appearing as an uncanny echo. Dennis was long dead.

“Come on!” I beseeched her upside-down face. “We have to get out of here.”

But she shook her head, her hair flaring like a poodle skirt from her inverted scalp. “I have my own way out. But you should take John, if you can pry him loose from Carla.” She resumed kissing Jove, her passion so great it seemed she would devour his head in a single powerful bite.

“Let’s drag John out of here,” Jason lisped with a shrug. When my expression fell, he added, “It’ll be a great workout.”

It was strenuous, but nothing about it was great. All of us were slippery and Carla didn’t want to let John leave. In thrall to the aphrodisiac Jove gave her, she didn’t want to let any of us leave. Jason showed himself fully willing and able to take advantage of this, so I secured John in a headlock and she welcomed Jason in exchange.

“Aunt Xylona! We’re on our way!” I shouted while John strained to escape my grasp. I passed backwards through the slats covering the door of the hut, feeling as foolish as the Statue of Liberty wearing a Brooklyn Bridge costume.

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My Aunt Wore a Leather Aviators Cap

  • by jenobvious ridiculousness of such a request
  • contemplate how much hairstyles have changed
  • breaking up their canoodling
  • I can bring a wild duck
  • misty and foggy and the rain started

Tune in next time part 313      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My aunt wore a leather aviators cap, and little else besides the goggles over her eyes. I remembered John saying she would only carry naked passengers and marveled at the obvious ridiculousness of such a request. But it was her plane and I really wanted off this damn island. I tried to keep my eyes on her face, but it was hard not to contemplate how much hairstyles have changed through the years in regards to intimate female grooming.

Xylona peered through the goggles at John and myself and said, “Wipe all that greasepaint off. I don’t want it all over my plane.” She tossed us each a rag. John happily complied, while I kept throwing looks back to the temple hut. I thought about racing back in to Tessa and Jove, breaking up their canoodling, and making her get on the plane with us. I’d been searching for her for so long, it felt like madness to leave her behind now. But she’d made her choice. For all I knew she was on an official mission. I cleaned the greasepaint off my chest with angry swipes of the rag.

“Does anyone have refreshments for the flight?” Aunt Xylona asked.

John glanced around the clearing. “I can bring a Wild Duck…”

“It’s called Wild Turkey,” I corrected. “But whatever you want to call it, bring at least two bottles.”

Our trio made our naked way to the nearby airstrip. My aunt’s plane was an old fashioned biplane, with two cockpits. That meant John and I had to squeeze in together in the front seat, and made me miss Tessa all the more. I’m not sure there would have been room for all three of us, but it would have been fun to try.

The weather since I emerged from the sewer had been misty and foggy, and the rain started as we began to taxi down the runway.

“Why can’t we wear clothes,” I demanded, as John planted himself in my lap and started fumbling with the seatbelt.

“Where we’re going we won’t need roads!” Xylona cried. “Or clothes!”

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Xylona’s Odd Exclamation

  • by Kentthat spasmodic walk of his
  • stealing her underwear
  • body covered with cuts and bruises
  • drove the getaway car
  • “I’ll look in the out of the way places.”

Tune in next time part 314      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Xylona’s odd exclamation made me wish I could see into her cockpit and make sure there was no flux capacitor back there. But maybe if there was, we could simplify so many things in our lives.

John is a nervous flyer, and before we were even airborne I had been reminded of how awkwardly he rides a bike, and that spasmodic walk of his when he was living with Tessa and kept stealing her underwear. If only he had a pair of it now, but alas.

Chilly rain pelted us, stinging my face and shoulders even with John as a shield. But it felt good on my body covered with cuts and bruises from so many things I couldn’t go back and simplify. But I knew the date that I’d return to, if I could. I knew the one thing I’d change. The delicatessen job, when I drove the getaway car. I’d trick Jason into doing it. That was before the rest of the crew knew I had a twin, so they’d never suspect.

We were soon over open water, in a downpour, with the wind and the prop roaring in our ears. John had found another leather cap, but apparently my aunt never planned on having two passengers. John was speaking, but I couldn’t make anything out. I twisted to look at Xylona and realized they were having a conversation. So I grabbed the headgear. Sure enough, it contained a mic and headphones.

“Where are we going to land?” I asked.

“You let me worry about that.”

“Oh, I’m worrying about it, too!”

She chuckled, not seeming worried at all, in fact. “I’ll look in the out of the way places.”

Nothing but blank, dark waves could be seen in all directions. How much more out of the way could you get?

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“Shut Up and Let Me Fly the Plane”

  • by jenand waited.
  • every single one’s got a story to tell
  • trying to enjoy sex together
  • textured, oily surface
  • getting a little bit slick

Tune in next time part 315      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Shut up and let me fly the plane,” Xylona said.

And so I did. I shut up and waited. Soon John fell asleep, leaning back against my chest, so while I waited I let my hands roam about the cockpit, identifying all of the controls by touch. I wanted to be ready to wrest control of the aircraft from my aunt if it seemed like she was going to betray me. I have so many enemies, and every single one’s got a story to tell, I’m sure, about why they have it in for me.

I wished there was one person I could trust. Just one person who I didn’t have to worry about plotting to kill me while trying to enjoy sex together.

Of course I didn’t want that person to be my aunt. I’d just be happy if my aunt wasn’t actively trying to kill me while I was trapped in a biplane she was piloting. I sighed.

My exploring right hand encountered a textured, oily surface that I could not identify. After a moment of prodding I identified it as John’s bare thigh and moved on.

“We’ll be landing momentarily.” Xylona’s voice crackled through the headset. “The landing strip is getting a little bit slick from all the rain, so buckle up.”

I looked down over the side and saw no land anywhere, just a speck on the water that rapidly grew as we swooped closer. It was an aircraft carrier. A black and gold aircraft carrier with a majestic zeppelin tethered to the prow.

This was Fleur’s personal craft. I counted backwards on my fingers and realized she would be due to give birth to our twins any day now.

I gulped, remembering the prophecy.

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Contrarian Literature About the Future

  • by Kentknown as ironic repetition
  • I admit, this got me a little teary-eyed
  • eluded surveillance
  • huge and hideous
  • as he frequently did

Tune in next time part 316      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Contrarian literature about the future utilizes a stylistic device known as ironic repetition, making the books tedious to read but easy to memorize. So I recalled enough details to see myself clearly depicted in the story as a tragic hero. I admit, this got me a little teary-eyed even though I was certain the prophecy was a sham. Fleur and her family believed it, and that fact made it pertinent to my survival, which made it self-fulfilling.

Xylona skimmed the waves well below the height of the landing deck, racing toward the stern of the ship. Then she killed the engine. I held my questions, hoping she knew what she was up to. Wondering what good it would do us if we eluded surveillance only to create a huge and hideous grease stain on the hull.

My aunt’s piloting skills impressed me. We slowed abruptly, and just when I was sure we would drop into the churning wake behind the aircraft carrier, she hauled our nose up and we climbed just enough to clear the deck and settle to a silent stop in a pool of shadow.

Leaning forward, Xylona whispered, “No noise, now. We can’t alert the crew to our arrival.”

John started singing in his sleep, as he frequently did. “They go uppity up-up, they go down, ditty down-down!”

Floodlights on the bridge snapped on, illuminating the landing deck.

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I Clapped My Hand Over John’s Mouth

  • by jenI’ll keep you company
  • how many bottles of unguent and liquor
  • made little use of his arms in speaking
  • letting it pour through her fingers
  • washed it in a nearby puddle

Tune in next time part 317      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I clapped my hand over John’s mouth to silence him. When I looked over my shoulder, Xylona was already out of the plane and darting away toward a hiding place.

“I’ll keep you company,” I thought. I kept one hand clamped over John’s mouth while I used the other to reach between us and unbuckle my seatbelt. John’s oily thighs provided enough lubrication that once I was free, I backflipped out of the front cockpit and into the rear one my aunt had so recently deserted, then over the side to land on the flight deck on my bare feet. Above me, John continued to sleep-warble about Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines. I sprinted after Xylona.

“Seize him!” a phlegmy voice cried, and I was quickly surrounded by bulky men in Contrarian Royal Navy uniforms, brandishing scimitars. As they herded me around to the front of the plane, John’s singing finally stopped. I saw another cadre of guards prizing him out of the cockpit while he looked around groggily. The rain picked up, making me shiver.

Soon John and I stood side by side, scimitar points in our backs. In front of us stood Viscount Arlo, and my heavily pregnant wife Fleur. They both wore resplendent Contrarian ceremonial pajamas, and they were shielded from the rain by an enormous red and gold umbrella held aloft by three servants.

“Oh,” Fleur sighed when she saw me. “It’s you.” She batted her eyelashes at the viscount. “Help me remember, Arlo daring, how many bottles of unguent and liquor you and I have enjoyed in bed together these past few months. I’m sure my husband will want a full accounting.”

Like most Svenborgians, Viscount Arlo generally made little use of is arms in speaking. He stood stiff and rigid, his single eye taking me in at a glance. He sniffed. “More unguent than liquor, due to your delicate condition. It was quite the opposite when I was involved with ZsaZsa.”

That guy is such a dick. Why else would he make such a point of his affair with my mother?

Fleur reached into the pocket of Arlo’s pajamas and withdrew a flask. She spun the cap off and sniffed the liquid inside before tipping the bottle and letting it pour through her fingers and puddle in her palm. She stepped forward, causing her entire retinue to lurch after her to keep her covered by the umbrella. She stood in front of me and said lazily, “According to Contrarian tradition, I am to anoint you with ceremonial wine upon your return. This will have to do.” She slapped me once on each cheek.

While I blinked the fumes out of my eyes, she licked a few drops of the sickly sweet alcohol off her hand and then washed it in a nearby puddle.

“My contractions are three minutes apart,” she said. “Let us adjourn to the birthing chamber to begin the ceremony.”

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John’s Next Move

  • by Kentwhether in sheer panic or out of revenge
  • after days of cleaning
  • described as a washcloth
  • taught from infancy
  • I heard you had a greenhorn from Tuscaloosa last night

Tune in next time part 318      Click Here for Earlier Installments

John’s next move caused a lot of trouble, whether in sheer panic or out of revenge for his defeat in the pregnancy-test ritual nine months ago it hardly mattered. What mattered was that he yelled a Contrarian obscenity and made a grab for the scimitar poking into my back. Its tip sliced through my skin despite the thick, protective hair covering my torso.

I let out my own yell and whirled away. I don’t like fighting opponents who have scimitars at all, but especially not when I’m naked. John seemed to be enjoying it. With his hands clamped over the back of the blade, he whirled after me, dodging a thrust from the soldier guarding him and wrenching the other’s weapon away.

“Stop this at once!” Fleur exclaimed. We all froze. “This is meant to be a celebratory occasion, and after days of cleaning the entire vessel with what can only be described as a washcloth, the viscount finally has everything in readiness. Or, he did. Now you’re bleeding on the deck, and your airplane is dirty!”

“I would love to stop bleeding on your lovely ship,” I said, pressing my hand over the small cut on my back.

“And the airplane’s not ours,” John added unhelpfully.

“We stole it,” I blurted before he could mention the missing pilot. “I was taught from infancy that it’s wrong to steal, except for biplanes. Everyone knows those things are free for the taking.”

Viscount Arlo sneered, his hairless head glistening in the moonlight. “Fleur, my flower, let’s toss them to the sharks and carry on.” What a dickish thing to say, with me — her husband — standing right there. “You were about to deliver without him, anyway.”

“No, I was not. His arrival was fated.” She blew out a controlled breath. “This pointless conversation has taken up three minutes. And if I am not comfortably arranged in the birthing chamber before my next contraction, viscount, I will have someone thrown overboard.” She glared at him. He deflated, bending low to trail behind her, his bowed head dangling limply from his shoulders.

The birthing chamber was a long room with a huge four-poster bed at the far end. At first glance every surface appeared to be draped in sumptuous fabrics, but it was all actually a trompe-l’oiel tile mosaic. Fleur climbed onto the bed, saying, “Leave us, viscount. This is a family ceremony.”

Arlo shriveled even lower. “But, darling, the loneliness will be unbearable.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” she replied. “You don’t think I know about your dalliances? Those ‘southern massages’ you’re so fond of? I am kept well informed of all this. I heard you had a greenhorn from Tuscaloosa last night. Go see if she will keep you company while I fulfill the prophecy.”

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