Though this
is the 6th installment of Dirk
Destroyer’s Less Destructive Brother, everything is just getting
started. Check back every Friday (or the five previous Fridays,) for
other excerpts.
Whatever Ceasaran had been about to say was cut short by three MOIST
agents. One of the women who was wearing an official limited edition
Moist trench coat shouted, “Hey you!” Ceasaran sighed and closed
his window.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned that I’ve been around a long time, and
you might think that I had learned a thing or two. Sure, I knew how
to levitate a bag of cigars, and draw gold out of the ground, but
that didn’t stop me from having the same reaction that every male
has had for eternity when a woman yells, “hey, you,.” I looked
around at a landscape that included several hundred sheep, a swamprat
bird, and myself, and threw up my hands in the universal gesture,
‘who me?’
“Yes, you,” shouted the MOIST agent. “Come here, and try not
to bother the sheep.”
I gingerly picked my way through to the edge of the flock, pausing
each time one of them wanted to sniff the bag I was holding, my
shoes, my crotch, anything that in their stupid minds they thought
might have food in it.
“Took you long enough,” grunted the agent as I finally got
through. The other female agent – not wearing a limited edition
Moist trench coat, probably because she was much prettier than the
first, pointed at the bag I was carrying.
“Are those fizzle wisp phew cigars?” she asked.
It was an odd choice of words, but I nodded my head.
“Can I sizzle sniff slurp one?”
As you might expect, telekinesis doesn’t worry me. My brother
played every possible telekinetic joke on me before he was banished
to oblivion forever the first time, but my brother wasn’t there, so
I was a little surprised when the bag lifted out of my hand.
“Don’t be stupid, Ono,” said the first female agent in as
abrasive voice as I’ve heard billarian clinbirds use, and that’s
as abrasive as a voice can get. My bag jerked high into the air with
cigars and matches flying in every direction.
“Whoops whoop yelp,” said the second female agent in an
apologetic if not intelligible voice. I summoned what skill I had in
gathering the errant cigars before they hit the ground, but most of
the matches landed in puddles of sheep urine – a very effective
solvent for mercury tipped inflammatories.
“Cigar smoking is a nasty habit, Ono,” said the first agent.
“It bugs the sheep,” said the male agent, who until that moment
had been standing silently in the background. He also was not
wearing a limited edition MOIST trench coat, but not because he was
pretty at all. He was short, dumpy, balding and had on a
particularly ugly shirt.
The first agent stared at the male, as if her eyes had the ability to
melt rock. Curiously that is not the hyperbole it seems, for I had
seen Dirk do just that to a rock that Uriculous Wisehind had been
sitting on. For a moment I thought the first agent had such an
ability. The face of the male agent disappeared.
He did not fall over however, and when I heard the void above his
collar say, “sorry,” I concluded that he probably hadn’t been
melted.
“As you can see, brother of the evil Dirk Destroyer,” said the
first agent, “you are in the presence of two very powerful wizards,
so I would watch my step if I were you.” Her warning would have
carried more force if not for an unfortunate coincidence. As she
stomped forward to emphasize the word, ‘step,’ her foot landed
in… Well, there were several hundred sheep around.
The second agent- the pretty one - who was apparently named, Ono,
smiled at the hideous bird, and Swampy flew over to perch on her
shoulder without releasing any form of defecation.
“As I was saying,” said the first agent. “The man who stands
before you, destroyer-brother, is the great wizard, Mage-e-not. He
has the power to make himself invisible!”
The headless apparition before me straightened, supposedly to assume
his full – though not impressive height which was further
diminished by his missing head.
“But I can see you, Mage-e-not,” I said.
“You see my clothes!”
I looked over the eighty percent man in front of me. “But I can
see your hands too.”
“But you can’t see my head!”
“I have a good idea where it is,” and I flicked a urine-moistened
match in the general direction of his nose. The man flinched, but
too late as the match bounced off of something.
“Stop that!” demanded the first agent. Mage-e-not’s face
reappeared, and he wiped it with the sleeve of his newly urine
speckled shirt.
“This young wizard,” said the first agent, gesturing to the other
woman agent, “is Onomaterpoeia Upsala.”
“We just call her Ono,” said Mage-e-not, who then disappeared
again when the first agent glared at him.
“As Onomaterpoeia has already demonstrated, she is a master wizard
of matter displacement.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said to Ono.
“Hoot tickled,” she responded in a friendly fashion.
“Hoot hottie,” said Swampy, who made me think, not for the first
time, that he had a better command of human speech than he was
letting on.
“My name is Elmer,” I said.
“We know who you are, Elmer Destroyer.”
“Actually, my last name is McFarland, but it’s been so long since
anyone’s called me that that I just answer to…”
“Tremble in fear!” bellowed the first agent who had not
introduced herself, “for there is one other member of this glorious
party – the greatest wizard of them all.”
“A Light Bringer?” I asked.
“Oh,” I said, “where’s he, or she?”
“HE’s back at the ministry,” said Ono. “HE couldn’t come.”
“Yeah,” said Mage-e-not. “He had a date.”
“Will you come with us peaceably,” asked the first agent, “or
will our wizards need to bind you with their glorious power?”
“No, I’ll come.”
The first agent stepped forth magnificently except for the squishy
sound that her sheep begrimed boot made. The other two hung back a
couple paces, and I fell in step with them.
“So what’s with her?” I asked. “Is she some sort of wizard
too?”
“Oh no,” said Ono, “She’s just a slap slash whip whirr
agent.”
“What’s her name?”
“Youtickubus Akwar.”
“Yeah,” said Mage-e-not, “she’s a real pain, and she shows up
everywhere I go.”
And that’s
all there is of chapter 2. Only 40 to go (give or take.) The good
news is that you’re starting to meet the characters in the story.
The bad news is that Youtickubus Akwar is one of them.
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