Tagged: zeppelin

Lyudmila Hated Jason

  • by jenwanted nothing to do with him
  • fatal slugs
  • “When the sirens went off,”
  • directly to my tongue
  • (but I definitely did)

Tune in next time part 797      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Lyudmila hated Jason. She always said she wanted nothing to do with him. Had she been lying the whole time, or had something recently changed her mind? Something, perhaps, like an encounter with near-fatal slugs? Lyudmila was both fascinated by and allergic to icicle slugs. The danger of anaphylaxis turned her on almost as much as the slugs’ aphrodisiac qualities. “When the sirens went off,” I remember her telling me, “I knew the EMTs would save me, so I didn’t worry about it. I just rode that wave.” Having recently had an icicle slug applied directly to my tongue, I felt like I probably knew how she felt. Unless I didn’t (but I definitely did). Would a near-death experience cause her to rethink her anti-Jason stance, if he were the one to supply the slugs? He’d had a pair of them since we were at the Academy, raising them as pets.

I looked at Too Tall and lisped, “Icicle slugs.”

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“I Wish You Wouldn’t Talk about Arlo”

  • by jenwhere lasers mimed demonic lightning storms
  • dripping out of your ears right now
  • bunch of tiny cubes
  • the color of urine on snow
  • “I’m not here to make friends!”

Tune in next time part 793      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“I wish you wouldn’t talk about Arlo,” I said. “With or without clogs, that guy is such a dick.”

Tessa laughed, and it was the sort of laugh that made it impossible to believe that she might be a robot whose head was filled with circuits and microchips, where lasers mimed demonic lightning storms as they rocketed around and simulated thoughts.

The two bebearded gents on the sofas began to twitch. The mime juice was wearing off, and once that process starts it goes quickly. Since we hadn’t restrained the men, I said, “We better switch these things on now, before they fully recover.”

“Aye-aye.”

Tessa and I each pushed the Polarize button on the sofa we were stationed beside, and the process began. A few minutes later, the men were fully conscious and in the throes of polarization. I cleared my throat and spoke loudly to be heard over the mechanisms. “You’re probably wondering what is dripping out of your ears right now. It’s a bunch of tiny cubes the color of urine on snow, and you know what that means.”

“You’ve polarized our ear wax!” Tall Guy cried.

“You animal!” Shorty yelled.

“I’m not here to make friends!” I said. “I’m a General of the Contrarian Humor Battalions, and I’m here to find out who sent you. The polarizing sofas are currently on level 2. Will you answer my questions, or do I need to turn up the reactor power impulses?”

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With My Right Fist I Drew a Figure in the Air

  • by jendescribed as peanut shaped
  • “One of your lovers?”
  • spider venom coursing through his veins
  • five kinds of tranquilizers
  • those polarizing candy cane striped couches

Tune in next time part 791      Click Here for Earlier Installments

With my right fist I drew a figure in the air, one that my sensei once described as peanut shaped. It was designed to distract and mesmerize an attacker. I hoped it would work when there was more than one.

“Who taught you that?” the taller man asked. “One of your lovers?” The way he said it I could tell he was hoping to upset Tessa by implying she was not my only paramour. She ignored his taunt and pulled out a blowgun, and moments later both the tall man and his little buddy were on the floor, not moving.

“They’re not dead, are they?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how Fleur would feel about that sort of thing on her airship.

Tessa smirked. “Not unless either one of them is allergic to the spider venom coursing through his veins now. Or any of the other five kinds of tranquilizers.”

She’d dosed them both with mime juice. I shuddered. You can take the girl out of the invisible box…

“I wonder who sent them,” she said.

“I know how we can find out. Help me drag them over to those polarizing candy cane striped couches flanking the altar, and when they wake up–”

Tessa finished my thought. “We’ll polarize them.”

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I Didn’t Care Why She’d had a Xylophone Glued to her Head

  • by jenBetween every single smooch I was sopping up sweat
  • Jeepers creepers!
  • the standard inking method
  • enters her wedding night tongue-tied
  • weirdly pleasing metallic smell

Tune in next time part 789      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I didn’t care why she’d had a xylophone glued to her head. Simply knowing that Tessa was an ultra-secret spy was a total turn-on. I leaned over and kissed her, hard, on the mouth. The pickle brine on her tongue made my eyes sting, and her kisses raised my body heat. Between every single smooch I was sopping up sweat with the tablecloth, but I kept going back for more.

“Jeepers creepers!” Tessa cried. “You’re going to drown us both!”

“I’ll be dehydrated soon,” I murmured, in what I hoped was a seductive voice. I must have been wrong because Tessa immediately started talking about tattoos again, and how the standard inking method wouldn’t work if she used the pickle skewer, but she was willing to improvise.

“Tessa, no. No improvisation. No tattoos.”

“You’re acting like some blushing bride who enters her wedding night tongue-tied and scandalized, but I know you. You’re a man of the world. You’re the sort of man whose copious sweat has a weirdly pleasing metallic smell. The kind of man who is up for anything. The kind of man who–”

She was interrupted by a deep voice booming from the depths of the pickle chapel. “The kind of man who’s about to get his ass kicked.”

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“What Happened to Timmuth-A Through Timmuth-D?”

  • by jenno easier way to put someone in a box
  • gently inserting the tines around the circumference
  • on a gondola in Venice
  • drinking mimosas in secret
  • the Aztec twelve-step

Tune in next time part 787      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“What happened to Timmuth-A through Timmuth-D?” I asked, knowing it wouldn’t be pretty. Mimes are ruthless.

“There’s no easier way to put someone in a box and get them to stay there than to kill them.” Tessa looked haunted. “At least that’s what Timmuth-E said.” She’d picked up the pickle skewer and was gently inserting the tines around the circumference of the kosher dill she’d been nibbling on.

“That’s pretty dark,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting you to say they were all on a gondola in Venice, drinking mimosas in secret or anything, but, shit, man. Mimes.”

Tessa nodded solemnly. “Mimes are the worst.”

“Except Timmuth-E helped you escape…”

“No he didn’t. He slipped up and spilled some intel he shouldn’t have, that’s all.”

“What was it?”

She looked me dead in the eye and said something that took my breath away. “He taught me the twelfth and final step of the Aztec twelve-step.”

I couldn’t believe it. “You mean…”

She nodded and threw back another bite of pickle.

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Mincers and Bustlers Alike

  • by jenroom to enjoy pickles
  • drunk and frisky
  • gathered there in St Mungo’s
  • I kept a toothbrush there
  • wiping the perspiration from his forehead

Tune in next time part 783      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Mincers and bustlers alike were tripping over their feet far more than even the scathing reviews had led me to expect. When I realized where they had just come from, it all made sense. Every Royal Contrarian Airship has a Pickle Chapel (a room to enjoy pickles in), and Contrarian pickles have a very high alcohol content. Spending time with high-octane phallic objects had left the dancers drunk and frisky, and promised to make their next show quite interesting. I wondered why they were gathered there in St Mungo’s Pickle Chapel. It was nowhere near the auditorium.

“Let’s go in,” I said to Tessa. The pickle chapel was one of my favorite places. I spent so much time in St Mungo’s, I kept a toothbrush there. Once Tessa tasted the pickles, she’d forget all about giving me a tattoo.

We dodged around the inebriated dancers and entered the hush of the chapel. The bartender looked exhausted, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with one hand while refilling the pickle barrels with the other.

The sting of vinegar and alcohol in my nostrils made my eyes water. Tessa seized a pickle skewer from the tray on the bar and grinned. “I was looking for something sharp to give your tattoo with!”

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A Tattoo in the Shape of a Triangle

  • by jen(who is awesome)
  • I like seeing the diving board go boi-oi-oi-oi-oing!
  • potential discombobulator
  • small, stumpy feet
  • returning to my spider-infested college

Tune in next time part 781      Click Here for Earlier Installments

A tattoo in the shape of a triangle didn’t sound too bad, all things considered. I started to relax. Tessa (who is awesome) said, “Not so fast. I like it better when you’re tense.” She ran her hand down into my white lab pants. “I like seeing the diving board go boi-oi-oi-oi-oing! If you know what I mean. It makes the tattooing much easier.”

I didn’t want to be the potential discombobulator of Tessa’s dreams, but there was no way I was going to get a tattoo on my junk. Not even from someone as awesome as (or with such adorably small, stumpy feet as) Tessa. I grabbed her wrist and shook my head. “Not there.”

She pouted, and my heart broke. I felt as if I was returning to my spider-infested college years — a wretched stretch of time bereft of Tessa. It was during those years that she’d learned the art of tattoo, when she’d been a captive of the mimes. I had missed her terribly, but she’d had it far worse. Now that we were finally together again, for keeps, could I deny her anything?

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“There are no squids in the aquarium”

  • by jenThe most extraordinary thing about the man
  • The red uniform
  • undergarments, sneakers
  • Clearly, this man is a fuckwit.
  • equipped with a single, huge gold-plated

Tune in next time part 779      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“There are no squids in the aquarium,” I said, feigning sadness. “No squids means no squid ink, and that means no tattoos for us.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Tessa pointed across the concourse to a man on a bicycle. The airship’s official roving tattoo artist, I realized. What were the odds he’d be right where we were when Tessa got the urge?

The bicycle sported a striped umbrella and a large box on the front like an ice cream cart. The most extraordinary thing about the man, though, was not his mode of transportation. The red uniform, visible undergarments, sneakers, and sunglasses were quite arresting. His mobile tattoo kiosk played an inane chiming tune on a loop.

I turned to Tessa in puzzlement. “Clearly, this man is a fuckwit. All of the roving tattoo artists are. We can’t get tattoos from him.”

“Of course not. We have to give them to each other. We’ll just get the ink from him.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me along as she flagged the artist down.

We didn’t have a choice as to color, for the artist was only equipped with a single, huge gold-plated bottle of ink, and it was as red as his uniform.

“Perfect!” Tessa cried. “I’ll buy the whole bottle.”

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“Maybe Fleur has a Point”

  • by jenBreak out the macrame vests and the hip huggers!
  • it’s lust, pure and simple
  • eating pasta barehanded
  • hallucinating and perspiring greatly
  • catch your own squid and harvest the ink by hand

Tune in next time part 777      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Maybe Fleur has a point,” Tessa said. “Where are we running to?”

“Trust me,” I said. “I’m a general. I know my way around a Contrarian Royal Airship. We’ll find a place to hole up together. But first I need some clothes. Preferably not a uniform, so I blend in.”

“Break out the macrame vests and the hip huggers!”

Tessa always wants me to dress like a hippie. It’s lust, pure and simple. She likes it best when the hip huggers are paisley. If I’m also eating pasta barehanded while hallucinating and perspiring greatly, it’s like porn to her.

“The costume closet is beside the aquarium,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“While I choose your outfit, you hop in the tank, catch your own squid and harvest the ink by hand,” Tessa purred. “That way we can give each other tattoos!”

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I Edged to the Right

  • by jenthat sister of yours
  • a fleeting intensity in his look
  • too much truth serum
  • sent a handwritten note
  • New York’s elite muckety-mucks

Tune in next time part 775      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I edged to the right, gripping Tessa by the elbow. We could sneak away while Zeus and Fleur had each other distracted. On a vessel as large as a Contrarian Royal Airship there had to be some private place where we could talk uninterrupted.

“I should have listened to that sister of yours,” Fleur said, snagging me by the collar. “She warned me you’d try to slip away.”

Which of my sisters had she been talking to?

“Which of his sisters have you been talking to?” Tessa asked. “Most of them are liars.”

“Go away, Pamplemousse,” Fleur said. “I have business with my husband.”

A fleeting intensity in his look told me Zeus Pamplemousse was greatly vexed to be dismissed like this. “Too much truth serum is poison for a relationship, Fleur,” the giant man grumbled. “You really ought to spare my feelings.”

“If I wanted to spare your feelings I would have sent a handwritten note, and being the daughter of the Contrarian Warlord, it would have been a thing of calligraphic wonder. Now go.” She flapped her hand at him.

“This isn’t over!” he roared. “New York’s elite muckety-mucks will hear of this! You’ll never be invited to another polo match!”

Fleur tightened her grip on my collar. “Come with me. And bring your robotic Ultra-Druid.”

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