Tagged: weapon

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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“Are You Getting Out of Here?”

  • by jen“Should I come with you?’
  • “Rap rap-rap rap-rap rap-ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, rap!”
  • you can’t do it in less than six hours
  • had (merely in playfulness) drawn his bayonet
  • I don’t remember what day of the week it was

Tune in next time part 237                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Are you getting out of here?” Darlene asked, still rocking her hips. “Should I come with you?” She gazed at the trio on the bed. “Or..?”

“Well I’m certainly not sticking around to watch,” I replied.

From the tangle of nude limbs I heard a female voice repeating, “Rap rap-rap rap-rap rap-ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, rap!” It sounded like someone trying to speak morse code, which is something they teach at the Academy. You can learn it, but you can’t do it in less than six hours, so the course usually takes two days. But I did it in one. While my brain tried to catch all the nuances and decode the message, my eyes had the unenviable task of tracing out all the ways the three lovers were intertwined in order to see which woman’s mouth was free to speak unencumbered.

I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t witnessing sex. That my father, a famous general, had (merely in playfulness) drawn his bayonet. But I wasn’t buying it.

I don’t remember what day of the week it was when I learned spoken morse code, but I was glad my advisor had insisted. What I was hearing today was not merely one Svenborgian sister speaking, but the two of them alternating to pass along a most astounding message about my wife and Viscount Arlo.

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My Getup

  • by Kentunimaginative weapons
  • this is not the time to be shy
  • until the approaching equinox
  • An American named Henderson had other ideas
  • is best read in complete silence

Tune in next time part 160                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

My getup made me feel vulnerable and dangerous at the same time. Unlike guns, knives, and other unimaginative weapons, the spikes on my leather collar and codpiece would make any tussles I got into quite memorable. But it made any room I stood in feel rather drafty. I tried to look casual, telling myself “this is not the time to be shy.”

“Will you three get moving?” Jenkins snarled. “Do you think I want to keep this idiot pinned until the approaching equinox?”

“This way,” Heinrich said. He hefted a trapdoor and motioned for me to go first. The tunnels underneath TinselTown were originally meant for use by the “elves” employed in the park. An American named Henderson had other ideas. He wrote them all down, and that is one book which is best read in complete silence.

“Heinrich, let’s discuss this,” I said.

“Shove him in!” Svetlana screamed. “The plan is falling behind schedule!”

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