Tagged: yeti

During Our Senior Year at the Academy

  • by jenbecome a Sasquatch king
  • the adults took turns
  • I wish I could sing like that
  • well, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy
  • multicolored headband

Tune in next time part 489      Click Here for Earlier Installments

During our senior year at the Academy I was voted most likely to become a Sasquatch king, largely due to my ability to imitate any bird or beast. John was offended. He felt that a yeti sighting during his childhood in Tibet gave him an affinity for all cryptozoological creatures. He filed a formal contestation of the election results. Our fellow students watched with bated breath as the adults took turns recounting the ballots, and cheered when I was formally declared the winner. Fat lot of good his “affinity” did him now. He was attending an auction staffed almost entirely by “yeti,” who would presumably do his bidding, and yet he was completely unmanned by a single Himalayan Snowcock cry. In my opinion, the Academy students made the right choice.

John careened around the cavern, knocking down trays of champagne glasses, and gibbering.

Tatiana grasped her belly and let out a bloodcurdling wail.

“I wish I could sing like that,” said Maxine. Then she raised her hand and yelled, “I bid two million and eleven dollars!”

“Two million and twelve!” came a voice from deep in the crowd.

“This will take all night,” I said. “Let’s just sneak out the back while John has them distracted.”

Tatiana said, “The stars predicted that if I conceived my children in a cavern I would give birth to them in one, too. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy in that case,” I said.

After another contraction, Tatiana said, “Find the yeti in the multicolored headband. She’s their midwife.”

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Oksana Switched on her Microphone

  • by jensqueezed between so many
  • lick your palm
  • big clown shoes to fill
  • more smock than frock
  • just weeks before the baby was due

Tune in next time part 487      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Oksana switched on her microphone and stepped up onto a dais to begin the auction. She gestured, and Jim was brought to her, squeezed between so many yeti-ninjas there was no chance of him escaping.

“Thank you for the warmup act, Jason,” she said. “I’ll be around later to lick your palm, as we say in Colloquillia.” Addressing the whole crowd of international spies and ne’er-do-wells, she went on, “Today’s merchandise has such big clown shoes to fill, and such tiny feet to do it with!”

Two yetis lifted Jim, and a third pulled his shoes off. As one, the crowd gasped.

I felt a knot in my stomach. Which clown was Oksana talking about? The Crystal Clown, perhaps? The auctioneeress kept up her patter, describing my brother’s many features and body parts.

Tatiana appeared at my elbow. She was usually a very stylish woman, but today’s garment was more smock than frock, a shapeless sack that hung from her shoulders, skimmed over her pregnant belly, and was barely long enough to cover her panties. It was a daring amount of leg to show just weeks before the baby was due. Or babies, as was more likely the case with me as the father. I thought back over the past several months and tried to calculate the number of children I might have on the way.

Tatiana whispered, “Let’s pool our funds. I’m sure Titania will let you have Jim when she’s done with him.” She chuckled. “Or what’s left of him.”

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“When Does This Damn Auction Start?”

  • by jenlocated at the base of your spine
  • enough face cream
  • Sorry honey!
  • a language that literally no one
  • a picture of you in the folder

Tune in next time part 479      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“When does this damn auction start?” I bellowed, striding into the cavern. “Don’t tell me I missed it!” I tried to act as cocky and entitled as the diplomats and spymasters my mother tended to hang out with. My wooden climbing boots gave me a stilted, clattering gait.

My brashness startled Oksana’s yeti minions. Their ninja training took over, and startled ninjas always freeze and attempt to camouflage themselves. I was suddenly surrounded by a forest of frozen yeti statues.

“Jason!” cried Jim in faux-surprise. “You bastard!” And then he made another bird call, this one decidedly less Himalayan.

Oksana straightened her spine and approached me. “You’re not late at all. In fact you’re early. I have to double check your identity, of course. I’m sure you understand. I have a picture of you in the folder of auction material on my phone, which I will now pull out of my cleavage.” She did so. While she compared me to the photo of my twin on her phone, she muttered to herself in Colloquillian, a language that literally no one outside of Colloquillia knew. Except for me. I had a Colloquillian lover years ago, who taught me the basics, after making me promise never to use my knowledge for espionage. That was a promise I now had to break. Sorry honey!

What Oksana was muttering wasn’t very enlightening, though. Something along the lines of “with enough face cream I guess literally anyone can stay youthful.”

I kept my mouth shut while she perused me, so that she wouldn’t see the golden tattoos on my tongue. My brother and I tended to copy each other’s distinguishing features, but as far as I knew, Jason didn’t have those. At least not yet.

“Now Jason, in order to confirm that it is you and not your twin, I need to see the crescent-shaped scar located at the base of your spine.” She smiled without showing her teeth. “I’m sure you understand.”

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“It’s Time to Get You Presentable”

  • by Kentwear that light blue sports jacket with your cream-colored trousers
  • conceal her nudity from strangers
  • her temperamental, boundaryless sidekick
  • has a urologist on call
  • opens the umbrella, but that’s not going to work

Tune in next time part 478      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“It’s time to get you presentable,” Oksana said. “We’re giving you a sort of dissipated restauranteur look, so you’ll wear that light blue sports jacket with your cream-colored trousers. Why are you still on the floor? Get up! Oh.” She paused and unlocked his restraints, producing a key from an impossible pocket in the taut white fur jumpsuit she had chosen as a way to conceal her nudity from strangers. “Now, hurry up and get dressed.”

Jim made his odd, keening bird call again as he donned the garments Oksana accepted from her temperamental, boundaryless sidekick yeti. It’s costume was quite obviously too tight, especially in certain key zones. “I hope he has a urologist on call,” I muttered.

Everyone froze. Dammit, I thought, I know how much my voice resonates in caverns and tunnels! I stayed still as Oksana used hand gestures to direct her furry minions in their search. I was doomed to be found. My stillness was like a man with an umbrella who steps into an avalanche, then opens the umbrella, but that’s not going to work. I had only seconds to come up with a plan, with both my life and my brother’s hanging in the balance.

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I Held My Gloved Hands Out

  • by jenshe says, “Open up your mouth, man.”
  • congratulating myself on my lucky escape
  • “Where did all these ninjas come from?”
  • didn’t hate him enough to turn down the money
  • orgy of sadness

Tune in next time part 469      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I held my gloved hands out, palm up, to show that they were empty. From the darkness a rough voice said something in a language I didn’t understand. The yeti in front of me said, “It’s an order straight from Oksana. He said, ‘She says, “Open up your mouth, man.” So you better cooperate. Let me see what’s in there.” Enormous furry fingers reached for my mouth, but just then, in a rush of rebounding vowel sounds, my contingent of yodelers came pouring from the passageway behind me. The yeti was startled, and I took advantage of the confusion to disappear into the shadows, congratulating myself on my lucky escape from cryptozoological dentistry.

“Where did all these ninjas come from?” the yeti exclaimed, strong evidence that he wasn’t the brightest biped in the mountain.

I crept along the walls of the cavern, through a maze of tunnels, searching for Oksana and my brother. As the yeti howls and yodeler ululations died down behind me, I could hear Jim’s voice up ahead. I bellycrawled to the corner and used my climbing suit’s periscope to peer around the final corner. Jim was shirtless, posing for a rapt Oksana. They were surrounded by a dozen people in yeti costumes, with the heads removed to reveal their black hoods and masks.

“Where did all these ninjas come from?” I asked myself.

Jim was putting the moves on Oksana, even while he drawled on about who had hired him to bring Isolde to Enigma Fortress. “Arlo’s a dick of course. I’ve always hated him. But I didn’t hate him enough to turn down the money.” He swiveled his hips to keep Oksana’s attention. “When he and Harry approached me at the Annual Royal Contrarian Winter Solstice Carnival and Orgy of Sadness, I heard them out. Their plan made me feel bad for poor Isolde, so I took their money and brought her here where she’d be safe.” He flexed. “Relatively safe, anyway.”

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“Let’s Pretend”

  • by KentOlga’s younger and more receptive sister
  • “brain fingerprinting”
  • treats her guests exactly as an auctioneer treats his goods
  • blue-gray vest with silvery buttons
  • even slightly out of the ordinary

Tune in next time part 464      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Let’s pretend you do need to tell me how dangerous it is,” I grumbled. “I’m tired of riddles, and I’m tired of Jim’s bullshit. I don’t think I actually want him to be devoured by yetis, but maybe if I just don’t have to know one way or the other…”

“So now they’re real yeti?” Doctor Nanna pursed her lips into a duckbilled sneer.

“Cannibal furries, then. I don’t even care anymore. Are they the source of the danger? They only seemed interested in Jim.”

“They are the foot soldiers of Oksana, who is Olga’s younger and more receptive sister.”

I shook my head. “Olga’s the youngest.” And, from personal experience I was sure she set the bar impossibly high for receptivity.

Doctor Nanna shook her head too, mockingly. “Not that Olga. The one who pushed the cart in the room with all the books back at the Academy.”

A chill ran down my spine. There was a reason no one from the Academy ever utters the word “librarian” aloud, and that reason is Olga. She could tell which parts of a book a student had skipped over or misunderstood because, she claimed, our minds left smudgy traces among the words, and this “brain fingerprinting” told her what everyone was reading about, and by extension what everyone was plotting.

“What does Oksana want?” I asked.

“We think she’s throwing a party, and Jim has been forcibly invited. But you must remember that Oksana treats her guests exactly as an auctioneer treats his goods, and that sooner or later the gavel falls for all of them. Jim knows things. We can’t let him be transferred to the highest bidder.” She gave me a warmer look, but only for a moment. “We’ve already lost too much time. Now, go put on your mountaineering uniform, the one with the blue-gray vest with silvery buttons, and recruit your team without alerting them that this is anything even slightly out of the ordinary.”

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Isolde was Still Struggling to Stand

  • by jeneach wore different colored goggles
  • never had a sandwich before
  • obscured by unmoving clouds
  • he was double her age
  • scattered on the carpet

Tune in next time part 461      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Isolde was still struggling to stand as I raced from the room in pursuit of the kidnapping faux-yeti. In the courtyard I skidded to a halt. Arlo was there in the snow, locked in the stocks. His yeti head had been removed, exposing his bald scalp, which was now quite pink. I looked around in alarm. If Arlo was imprisoned, then who had abducted my brother? And why?

Near the outer wall I saw a phalanx of what appeared to be yeti. There were at least a dozen of the furry white things, and each wore different colored goggles and nothing else. The one with Jim over his shoulder loped across the icy cobblestones toward his comrades. Obviously they couldn’t be real yeti, since there was no such thing. They were probably a group of insurrectionists, the sort of malcontents who never had a sandwich before without finding something to complain about.

The “yeti” near the wall hooted at each other and then formed themselves into a human pyramid (or rather a yeti-pyramid). The one carrying Jim bounded up the stack of hairy bodies and vaulted over the wall before I could reach him. The others followed and disappeared up into the mountains, the tops of which were obscured by unmoving clouds and the ongoing blizzard.

Well, shit.

It was then that I remembered I was a General, and I didn’t have to do all this running around. I ordered a squadron of yodelers to give chase and retrieve my brother.

As I made my way back to the throne room, I thought about Isolde. She was my wife’s sister, and I had always found her most beautiful. Acting as Harry’s proxy for their wedding and wedding night was a highlight of my recent past, even if it did end with her wed to Harry. He was a toad-featured Junior Baronet, and he was double her age. I had no idea what she saw in him. And I had no idea what she was doing here at Enigma Fortress while he was in legal trouble and she was so close to giving birth.

I entered the throne room and immediately had to revise my musings. Isolde was no longer close to giving birth. She sat on the floor, beaming, with babies scattered on the carpet around her.

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I Made Sure I Had Jim’s Attention

  • by KentI want the hair
  • moved from gross to turbo-gross
  • Do not give this woman an inch.
  • just because she feeds me well
  • dealt with outrage my whole life

Tune in next time part 460      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I made sure I had Jim’s attention, and said, “I clean the drains because I want the hair.” With this utterance our conversation moved from gross to turbo-gross, but for the next several minutes my brother would be incapable of saying anything untrue. He blinked as if startled by a sunbeam, then stared vacantly ahead. The trance was in effect.

“What’s the deal with bringing Isolde out here?” I demanded. The well-being of those offspring was my primary concern.

Jim sounded like a southern-fried robot. “Do not give this woman an inch.”

“Hey!” Isolde exclaimed. She began struggling up from the couch, which was evidently going to take her a while.

“You didn’t really answer my question,” I said.

“She thinks she can keep me fooled,” Jim drone-drawled, “just because she feeds me well, but her scheme is obvious to me.”

“What scheme?” I pressed. The trance prevented lying, but clearly still permitted him to speak in riddles. Isolde continued wrestling unsuccessfully with gravity, her frustration growing into outrage. I was unimpressed, having dealt with outrage my whole life.

Jim said, “Her scheme to–” but he got no further before a white-furred bipedal abomination burst into the chamber and seized him up. The ease with which it carried my brother away had me wondering if this one was an actual yeti. No! It had to be Arlo, that dick, abducting Jim while he would be unable to provide false answers under interrogation.

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“What is That Racket?”

  • by jengeneral costumes
  • is kinda like cilantro
  • wearing a long crocheted dress and, I was certain, even from my distance, no brassiere
  • lunk-headed older brother
  • dictionary definition of quixotic

Tune in next time part 457      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“What is that racket?” I asked.

“That’s the zeppelin detection system,” said the first guard.

“Someone is arriving from the capital,” said the second.

“What about the blizzard?” I asked. The heavy snow was the reason I had been stranded here when my wife summoned me.

“The royal zeppelins all have flame-throwers,” said the first guard. “But of course you know that, General. I suspect you’re just testing us.”

“Of course, of course.” Did my zeppelin have a flame thrower? If so, why had everyone pretended I was snowed in? Motioning to Arlo, I said, “Take this criminal to the stockade.”

The guards saluted and hustled the whimpering Arlo off. I grabbed a roll of glitter storm tape and returned to my quarters to figure out which of my general costumes I should put on now. It would help if I knew exactly who was on the incoming airship. Contrarian military garb is kinda like cilantro — some people enjoy it while others are genetically predisposed to find it repulsive. For the most part I’m in the former category (who doesn’t like to look fancy?), but I was getting a little tired of all the quick-changes.

Down the zeppelin’s gangway waddled a heavily pregnant Isolde. She was not dressed for the weather, wearing a long crocheted dress and, I was certain, even from my distance, no brassiere. I couldn’t fathom what business she had at Enigma Fortress. Shouldn’t she be somewhere near a maternity hospital, so close to giving birth? And wasn’t her husband Harry in some sort of trouble? My confusion only grew when I saw who was with her: my rapscallion brother Jim.

The two of them approached and we made all of the appropriate courtly gestures of greeting. Jim stage-whispered to Isolde, “My lunk-headed older brother looks surprised to see us.”

Trying to track all of the inter-familial machinations in my life was the very dictionary definition of quixotic.

“Let’s get you inside where it’s warm,” I said. I may have been acting as Harry’s proxy when I impregnated Isolde, but my protective impulses toward the children she was carrying were genuine.

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I Heard the Distinctive Tromping Cadence

  • by Kentdiplomats of any rank
  • dissolved into just the notion of an omelette
  • having an extra nipple
  • recover hope all ye who enter here
  • mind-bending music

Tune in next time part 456      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I heard the distinctive tromping cadence of a guard patrol in the corridor.

“Don’t move!” I barked at Arlo. Then I hauled the door open and summoned the guards into the room. “Arrest this foreign agitator!” I ordered.

“Who, the yeti?” asked the first guard.

Arlo had put the furry mask back on over his shiny bald head. Fine.

“Yes, the yeti!” I said. A smile crept onto my face. “Arrest it, or, treat it in the customary manner. I am told that in the Paradoxica region, you use every part of the yeti.”

“Never mind that,” said the second guard. “But might I inquire as to your business in this tape storeroom? The signage clearly indicates–”

“I am a general, and I am in command of this fortress. That’s my business in this and every room. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, sir. Except, you see, while diplomats of any rank are free to peruse the tape stockpile, military personnel, including all officers, must be properly escorted.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Fine. Take the yeti and chop it up and throw it in the larder. Better yet, it’s fresh. Why not make stock? Simmer it until its bones have dissolved into just the notion of an omelette. I’ll worry about the glitter storm tape later.”

They rousted Arlo to his feet, him still making his pathetic imitation animal grunts. I was surprised he maintained the charade, given my suggestions for how to deal with a ‘yeti’ like him.

“Bit short for a yeti, isn’t he?” asked the first guard.

“Oy, ew!” exclaimed the other. “Can’t cook with any shrimpy yeti having an extra nipple. Too gamey!”

The yeti costume worn by Arlo was indeed equipped with a supernumerary nipple. And in the armpit, a tattoo reading “recover hope all ye who enter here.”

I harrumphed. “In that case, let’s go back to where we started: arrest him!” And I yanked on the costume’s headpiece. It didn’t come off, and Arlo made sad whimpering noises.

“No disrespect, sir, but we do try not to mistreat the yetis. We hunt them for sport and meat, sure. But we never pull their hair.”

“This is no yeti,” I insisted, but they were openly doubtful. We were all interrupted by a new sound from the corridor, mind-bending music like a swarm of wasps skimming the inner contours of a sousaphone.

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