Dirk Destroyer Part 45 Chapter 25

Contrary to Elmer’s nature he’s ignoring his younger brother’s instructions and is trying to do something clever.

This rarely ends well.

Chapter 25

Dude

Dude had told me not to come back to the school, and not to play with time again, but as glorious as Dude was, not to mention his mop, I had more information now. After all, Dirk bargained with Dude. Maybe I could too. I had the greatest power of human creative power working in my favor.

The power of Desperate Male inSecurity DMS™.

That didn’t tell me how I was going to sway Dude, but I had hints, like a fish stick in my fanny pack, and the origin of my fanny pack as well. As I surfaced into the school of amazing stuff, I headed right for the kitchen. There was only one way I knew to call Dude. I wasn’t at all surprised when after twisting the knob, that I saw fish sticks come out the spigot. I filled my fanny pack with fresh, and wholesome fish sticks, and watched as hundreds more cascaded onto Dude’s once clean floor.

The sticks started to pile up. Maybe this wouldn’t work.

I tried a fish stick. It was good. Was that cilantro and basil? Who ever thought of adding that to a fish stick deserved to live in the Celestial realm. I could probably skip Dirk’s gold-digging trip and make plenty of money making fish sticks with cilantro and basil.

I had a couple more. Oh yes, there were all sorts of things to learn in the school of amazing stuff.

“A-hem.” I’d never heard a-hem put so eloquently. I shut off the knob. I was up to my knees in fish sticks.

“I’m waiting for it.”

“My excuse?” I asked.

The custodian nodded regally.

“I need your help,” I said, “and you didn’t tell me how to contact you.”

“You need my help.” Dude pulled two of his magic silver squares from his back pocket, vigorously swung them in the air, and they became shiny silver bags. He handed one to me, and I gladly began gathering fish sticks, though I was careful to only take the ones that weren’t touching the floor. “I remember banning you from the school until you were old enough.”

“You did,” I agreed, “and you were really convincing, but that was before I heard the moral law of something-or-other, and heard a story about a tobacco thief named Dude.”

“Dirk!” said Dude in a vaulting tone full of grace and frustration. “It’s the moral code of causation.”

“That’s the one,” I said.

“I don’t see how that helps you,” said Dude, filling his bag, also from non-floor-dwelling fish sticks, handing me the bag, and then flicking his mop of glory at the ones that remained eliminating them instantly. “According to the code, you just caused the waste of many high-quality fish sticks.”

“Yes,” I said, “but how did that come about?”

Dude stared through me as if I was made of glass and shook his head. “Dirk said you were stupid,” he said forthrightly. “It’s the only reason I agreed to let him introduce you to the school.”

“You never should have let him give me the fanny pack.”

“He told you?”

“I guessed,” I said as smugly as I could manage. “I didn’t know for certain until you just confirmed it.”

“What do you know?”

“I know that my fanny pack doesn’t follow all the other laws of this world. I couldn’t pick up this mixer,” I said, trying and failing to pick up the mixer, “and take it with me back to my world. But if it was in one of your silver bags, or in my fanny pack…”

“I’m not telling you anything,” said Dude.

“And you’re also not stopping me.”

“What?”

“I am going into the nurses’ office, and I am going to twist that dial of second chances.”

“No,” said Dude, but it was no longer the melodic authoritative voice he used before, but a melodic pleading and desperate voice. “You have more moral feeling that Dirk, even if you aren’t very bright. Try to see how much moral trouble the dial of time could cause.”

“I’m just trying to go back and save my friends.”

“Save your friends? You’re not going ahead in time to get tomorrow’s race results?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but…”

“No!” shouted Dude, and the sound of his voice was like a chorus of pissed and anxious angels.

“I know I can do this, Dude,” I said. “There was a day-old fish stick in my fanny pack this morning. I don’t know how this pack works, but I believe it means I can succeed in going back in time and saving my friends.”

Dude hung his glorious golden head. “It is the fanny pack of possibilities, so yes, it is possible to go back, but there is no guarantee that you will save your friends.”

“You could help me.”

“Why should I do such a foolish thing?”

“Because if you help me, I will promise not to do two things.”

“What are the two things?”

“I will not go ahead in time to see tomorrow’s race results.”

“And?”

“And I will not tell Dirk about the dial of time – or second chances which is what I call it.”

“Dirk!” squeaked Dude in a squeak that only a heavenly mouse or Celestial Custodian about to pee himself might make. “With the dial of time, Dirk might…”

“Do anything,” I finished in not nearly so glorious a tone as Dude might, but sometimes you have to nail down your bargaining position.

“I never should have gathered tobacco on Two that day. I don’t understand why this school is non-smoking!”

“Are you asking me?”

Dude started laughing. I wasn’t sure why he was laughing. I was suspected the joke might be on me, but celestial laughter is contagious so I laughed right along with him.

“All right, I’ll help you. And you can keep the fish sticks; your friends are probably getting hungry in relative time.”

I thought about asking him to define relative time, but instead described my situation, and as he told me to hurry up several times, I won’t relate all that here. I don’t know why people think I go on and on with things. I think I just say what needs to be said, but then somebody calls me a bore and somebody else calls me stupid.

You know what I call stupid? People who call other people stupid, that’s what I call stupid! Maybe I don’t always get right to the point, but that’s no excuse to… stupidify me.

I’m thinking as fast as I can, you know!

When I finished my story, which I didn’t think was too long, or contained useless detail, Dude shook his head.

“You should just give up,” he said.

“I’m not going to give up.” I wished I could think of some way of saying ‘give up’ other than just echoing Dude’s ‘give up.’ I know I sounded like a parrot, and I was feeling sensitive about how Dude was looking down on me just because he was millions of years old and his boots shone like sunlight on a warm spring day.

“See if you can understand what I’m saying,” said Dude very slowly.

I wanted to hit him in the nose, but I just nodded instead.

“You’ve moved progressively through time – the way you ordinarily do. You know about that, right?”

Nod.

“But you’ve also moved trans-dimensionally. Do you know what that means?”

Nod.

“I doubt it,” Dude muttered beatifically. Then he shook his head as if he wasn’t going to go on.

“Dirk will love that dial,” I said.

“You can’t go back in your body!” Dude shouted.

“Oh,” I said, trying desperately to look smarter than Dude thought I was. “I’ve heard something about this. It’s called a time paradox, right?”

“A time paradox?” Dude started giggling in an entirely masculine and awe-inspiring way. “How did you learn to read – from pulp science fiction?”

“No.”

“Don’t try to be smart,” Dude warned me. “You do stupid well. Stay with what you know.”

I wondered what would happen if I hit Dude with his mop of glory.

“You can go back in time, but you have to avoid yourself. You can’t join with the you from before. That’s because of… Just believe me. Think of it as a rule and breaking the rule will cause an explosion that will kill everyone you ever met.”

“Including you?”

“Of course not me,” said Dude as if that was obvious.

“Okay,” I said, using that So-Ho expression once again. I could see how that could become a habit. I wondered why we didn’t say, okay on Two. “I’ve got it.”

“You’re sure?”

“You’re worried about us?”

“Actually,” said Dude, “it would be convenient for me if you did kill everyone you ever met. Unfortunately, if I don’t do everything I can to prevent it, the moral code of causation will bite me big time.”

“Well said.” I enjoyed complementing Dude. He obviously hated it, but he couldn’t complain about it. Maybe complements from a lower life form is like receiving mud pies from two-year-olds. You know the gesture is meant well, but the last thing you want is a pile of excrement-filled mud in your hand, and then half the time the kid expects you to eat it.

I considered staying around and complementing Dude the rest of the day. After all, the time dial meant I wasn’t in a rush, but I was also anxious to get this done, and I knew the fish sticks weren’t getting any fresher.

Dude led me into the nurses’ office. “How much time you need?”

“I’ll just turn it until I…”

“No, no, no,” said Dude as he might have to a wet dog about to jump on his bed. “I don’t want your hands on this control.”

“About a day.”

“About a day? You can’t be more specific?”

“Well, it’s mid-morning now, right?”

“In So-Ho, New York City? Yes,” Dude answered. “It’s ten twelve Anti-meridian.”

I pretended that I had an idea what that meant. “Yup,” I said. “About a day.”

Dude sighed and turned the dial.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think Elmer just had a minor triumph. Will Elmer continue to succeed or will he return to form and end up rescuing Swampy or even Youtickubus Akwar (shudder,) instead of Ono? Or maybe this time he’ll end up in the real oblivion that Dirk has been avoiding for thousands of years. Tune in next Friday for the exciting conclu… (don't overstate it,) for the conclusion to Dirk Destroyer’s Less Destructive Brother.

Of course it won’t be the last post of the book because I can never leave well enough alone.

There are those who accuse me of drawing everything I write from The Tick (especially Volition Man.)  What libel! (or is it slander?)  (Oh, and any resemblance between Dude and Plunger Man is entirely co-incidental.)

Dirk Destroyer Part 41 Chapter 22

   Yup.

Chapter 22

Claiming Jo4n

I didn’t feel good about what I’d done. Ono probably thought I didn’t want her, and I didn’t want her to think that. But would it be any easier for her if she thought that I hated her going to Phasia without me?

There were a lot of things I couldn’t control. Being Dirk’s brother had given me a deep appreciation of that fact, but I could still avoid being selfish. As I searched for Dirk, or rather separated myself from the Light Bringer enough for Dirk to find me, I passed Swampy. The rat-bird was waddling like a duck.

“What’s wrong with you, Swampy?”

Swampy looked up at me with unfocussed eyes. “Fish stick?” he said unevenly.

I’d never seen Swampy like this, and never was a long time with us. The closest was the time when Swampy had tried to eat an entire tuna. Maybe there were bigger fish in the brook than I’d seen.

“Do you need help?”

“Nope,” said Swampy followed by a disgusting belch.

It wasn’t as if I knew anything about fixing sick rat-birds. I shrugged my shoulders and kept walking. A salamander fell from a branch above me and landed on my shoulder. “So,” said the salamander, “you fix things up for your friends?”

“Ono fixed it for them. I didn’t have much to do with it, but yes, the monk will take them to Phasia.”

“Good,” said Dirk. He was sitting about two body lengths up on a thick branch. Jonma Carry was tied to the trunk for some reason, but he didn’t seem to be in distress, so I ignored him.

“You were never much for climbing trees, Dirk” I said.

“It’s something new I got from the school of amazing stuff.”

“Tree climbing doesn’t sound all that amazing to me.”

“It isn’t,” said Dirk, “but this is.” He put his hand on the trunk above Jonma Carry, and the trees branches began to shift. Three branches formed themselves into a rough basket. Dirk stepped into the basket and the tree lowered him to the ground.

“Is that good for the tree – or even the Jonma?” I asked.

“Who cares,” said Dirk.

I didn’t pursue it. Apathy washed over me. I not sure why they even use the word wash in connection with apathy because this particular wash of apathy didn’t make me feel clean. I felt dirty, low, and completely incapable of doing anything about it.

I just sat on the dirt and sulked.

“Elmer,” said Dirk. “Don’t be like that. You’ll feel better when we get to So-Ho, I promise. There’s a little tobacconist shop around the corner that has cigars like you’ve never imagined.”

“That sounds good,” I said, sulkily. I wasn’t being sarcastic. It did sound good. A week before, I would have been excited to go with Dirk to a place like So-Ho and try new cigars. Now it just felt empty.

“Well,” said Dirk, “I guess if we’re going to get cast out, we might as well get to it. You got the scratchwing?”

I held up the instrument which Dirk could clearly see before I lifted it. “Why is this so important?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” said Dirk.

“You know,” I said, “once in a while I’d like to be the one to decide if I understand something or not.”

“You’re right,” said Dirk. “Tell me what you know about the tonal aspects of trans-dimensional travel?”

“You’re right,” I grumbled, “I wouldn’t understand.”

We walked slowly back the way I came. It felt like a dream – not a bad dream, or a good one either. It was as if I was in someone else’s dream, playing an unimportant role. My whole life felt like that – cannon fodder in someone else’s battle, an extra in someone else’s play, a spare horickvock for somebody else’s scratchwing.

I don’t know how far we walked. I didn’t care.

“They’re here!” shouted Akwar, as we approached a clearing. It might have been the clearing I left Mage-e-not and Ono in. “They’re right here!”

“Where’d that come from!” shouted Dirk, who was rarely surprised by anything.

Well, there was one thing to look forward to. This was probably the last time I’d ever see Youtickubus Akwar again.

“Dirth Dethroyersh,” said a wobbling, triumphant Jonma Claim. “Thith worldth thwill finally beth flreeth ofth schou nowsh!”

Dirk just started laughing.

Even when we were children, Dirk used to say he wanted to learn to laugh like a villain. Like most things that my brother set out to do, he accomplished his goal, exceeding even his own expectations. Dirk’s laugh wasn’t just loud, it was jarring, deep, throaty, gravelly, and impossible to hear without the skin of my forearms, (not to mention my ear lobes,) puckering and shifting, and looking for a place to hide.

My brother really enjoyed being Dirk Destroyer, and most of the time I was happy for him. I wanted my brother to feel fulfilled. I just wish it didn’t require me to lose the love of my largely love-less life.

“Uriculous!” shouted Dirk. “Is that you trying to control that Jonma?”

“Yeth, Dethtroer, ith –schmee. Ith goth schou now!”

Dirk started laughing again. He was really going over the top with his evil laugh. I was about to nudge him, when I realized that tears were forming in his eyes. He wasn’t just laughing for effect. He was really laughing.

I looked around and tried to figure out what was so funny. I hate it when I’m the only one that doesn’t get a joke. I saw Ono and Mage-e-not. I went over to them.

“What’s he laughing about?” asked Mage-e-not.

“You don’t get it?”

“No,” he said.

“Good. I don’t get it either.”

“Uriculous!” shouted Dirk, “You sound like your tongue connection is loose; you wouldn’t be having any trouble with your Jonma now, would you?”

“Ofsh coursch snot!” snapped Jonma Claim.

“Because,” said Dirk, “you weren’t much brighter than a Jonma yourself, and that was when you were still alive. I don’t think being dead all this time has helped that much.”

“Schtill shalive enoughsh shew baniscsssh shoe.”

“What’s that you say Uriculous? I think someone else is fighting you for that tongue.”

“Where’s the Jonma Carry?” said Akwar. “The Jonma Carry is supposed to help the high priest keep control.”

“The guy whose face looks like a bad sculpture?” asked Dirk. “I left him tied up to a tree back there.”

“I’ll get him, High Priest,” said Akwar. “Just hold on!”

“Shno Schneedsch,” said Jonma Claim. That might have been, ‘no need,’ but he was getting harder to understand by the minute. Akwar took off, supposedly in search of the Jonma Carry.

“You’re barely holding on, Uriculous,” said Dirk. “My guess is that you’ve been getting weaker for some time. Pretty soon, you’ll disappear, and there won’t be enough of you to possess a Jonma rat-bird.”

“Like Swampy?” I asked. “Is Swampy a possessed Jonma bird?”

“I’ll tell you later,” said Dirk.

“Schwhere’sch Sha Schlighsh Schringersh?” roared Jonma Claim. “Schurrys, schurrys!”

“What’s he talking about?” asked Mage-e-not,” who had Ono’s silver bag in his hand for some reason.

“He wants the Light Bringer,” said Dirk. “Watch this.” The look of fury and triumph in Jonma Claim’s eyes turned to fear as Dirk approached. “I’ll be your Light Bringer,” he said, and as he stuck out his middle finger at Jonma Claim, a two-inch flame appeared at the end.

“Schnosh!” screamed Jonma Claim in obvious, though unintelligible distress. “Schelpsh! Schelpsh!”

Dirk made little feints with his lighted finger at Jonma Claim. “I’m not torching you,” he said. “I’m not torching you!”

“Schtopsch!”

“I’m not torching you!”

“Schmommysch!” blurted Jonma Claim. “Schmschaschkschesch schhschischm schsschtschoschpsh!!!!”

“That’s it,” said Mage-e-not. “I can’t follow him at all now.”

“I’m not torching you.”

“Schschschscheeeeeesch!” said Jonma Claim, as he fell to the earth in a heap.

“Am I late,” said the stone-faced Jonma Carry, now free of the tree and looking down at the other Jonma.

“Elmer,” cried Ono. “Uriculous Wisehind is kaput! You’re jingle, jangle, wee! You no zap ka-pow!”

“I wouldn’t count on that, Little Lady,” sang Lustavious, slightly more late than Jonma Carry.

Mage-e-not went over to the pile of Jonma Claim and prodded it with his foot. The pile lurched, and made a gurgling sound, then said, “No more torture. I give up. One of you guys tell me how to say, ‘I’ll cooperate’ in Phasian.”

“Which Phasian Language,” asked Lip Ton Tease, who would’ve been later even than Lustavious and Jonma Carry, but for the fact that nobody asked for him, which made him independent of time – though not of space.

“The nation needs me,” said Jonma Claim, who in his present state was probably oblivious of many things, and specifically Tease’s question. Either that, or he was being rude.

“I must serve where I’m needed,” he said.

“Do you have any skill as a waiter?” asked Dirk.

At this point the Jonma Claim went into a monolog about heroism, straight shooting, taking bribes, and undermining his own party in the quest for fair play. The monolog’s best quality was that it was ignorable, so I went up to Dirk.

“So,” I said, “this changes things, right?”

“I wouldn’t count on it, Big Brother.”

“But without Uriculous, we can…”

“Live on a world about to fall to global swarming?”

“We could live in Phasia. You’re good at math.”

Dirk grimaced. “Not that good. And you’re forgetting the Light Bringer.”

“I still don’t get how…”

At this point, Jonma Claim raised his voice sufficiently to be less ignorable, and Dirk’s attention turned to him.

“I am not Uriculous,” said Jonma Claim. “I am not even Jonma Claim,” said the non-Jonma Claim. “I am,” and the round-faced man raised his arms to shoulder height, peering around at each person in the clearing, “Jo4n McLame!”

“Big deal,” said Swampy, waddling in and standing by Ono.

“I have to go with the bird on this one,” said Mage-e-not.

“I’m Jo4n McLame,” said Jo4n McLame unnecessarily. “I was this close to being the leader of the…”

“Not that close,” said Jonma Carry. “I was closer.”

“What about him?” asked Akwar, who had not only reappeared, but she had brought All Bore with her,

“You know,” said All Bore, “I should have won, but I have a patent pending on politics, so I’m a sure bet next time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Mage-e-not, “we don’t care.”

“How about giving me a shot,” said the RunPol monster who unexpectedly showed up at this precise moment in the story.

“Never,” cried Jo4n McLame, Jonma Carry, and All Bore in bipartisan unanimity.

“Still don’t care,” said Mage-e-not. “What we need to know is if we’re still sending Elmer and his evil brother to oblivion.”

“And that’s what I’ll do right now,” said Lustavious.

“Wait,” said Jo4n McLame, “I’m Commander in Chief around here. You take orders from me!”

Ono stepped up to the former Jonma. “And you want Elmer and Dirk to stay, don’t you?”

All eyes turned to Jo4n McLame, who held his chin up, and would have been impressive – except he wasn’t. He was still, round, frumpy, and stupid-looking, but he looked like he thought he looked impressive, which while pathetic is… Well, it’s still pathetic.

“This is my decision,” said Jo4n McLame…”

   A friend posted this on FB and said it was funny.  I don't get it, but maybe you will.

Dirk Destroyer Part 40 Chapter 21

Things are moving towards a conclusion in Dirk Destroyer’s Less Destructive Brother. May I point out that unlike James Patterson, I have not employed a hard-working patsy to do my writing for me. That may be because no self-respecting patsy (if there is such a thing,) would work for a novelist that makes considerably less than your average drone for each entirely original, non-James Patterson-inspired story he writes.

Full disclosure: I may have used a few (26 to be exact,) letters that I have seen in the one eighth of a James Patterson novel I’ve read (before becoming too depressed to continue.)

Maybe a few numbers as well.

Chapter 21

There Shall Be Showers of Fish Sticks

Swampy was the first member of the party I found, or more likely, Swampy found me. He landed on my shoulder and defecated. I didn’t mind, I just focused the feces to fall to off my shirt and onto the ground. It was a handy skill to have with Swampy around.

“Hungry,” said Swampy. “Need a fish stick?”

“A fish stick?” I had no idea where Swampy had run into fish sticks before. Maybe they had them at the ministry. I walked over to the stream that Tease had reshaped to create his shower. There were fish swimming at the base of Tease’s manufactured waterfall, probably trying to figure out how to get back upstream.

“There are your fish, Swampy. They couldn’t be much easier to catch.”

Swampy hopped off my shoulder and was about to hunt when his head turned suddenly. “Fish stick,” he croaked, and flew off.

Even after all this time Swampy did stuff that made no sense to me.

I continued my search for Ono, and as I entered a clearing, I saw her sitting with Mage-e-not. Ono had a stick levitated in the air, and Mage-e-not was concentrating on it. Half his head was phasing in and out of visibility.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

The stick poked Mage-e-not in the nose, then spun off into the bushes. “Oh no,” said Ono, “poke and pick.”

Mage-e-not rubbed his nose. “What we’re doing,” he said to me, “is trying to get some food.”

“I’ll go make some algae bars,” I offered.

“Real food,” said Mage-e-not.

“From a stick?”

“Well it makes as much sense as a guy whose head disappears, a woman who makes things float, and a big jerk who sets his finger on fire being able to cast the planet’s greatest villain, and his algae-dealing brother into oblivion for ever.”

“You have a point.”

“No offense,” said Mage-e-not.

“Of course not.”

“We shuffle powers,” said Ono, “zing, whish, whoosh symbiotically.”

I nodded wisely as if I had any idea what sympytockicly meant.

“Do I smell fish sticks?” asked Akwar.

We all froze until she went away. Several seconds after she disappeared, Mage-e-not whispered, “That’s what we were trying to make, fish sticks.”

A number of things popped into my mind. First, I thought – that’s why Swampy was acting so strangely. Second, I thought – how can we stop Akwar from popping in on us like that – but I imagined that I was hearing her voice again in the bushes, so I stopped thinking that. Thirdly, I thought – what would ever lead Mage-e-not and Ono to believe their powers combined might turn regular sticks into fish sticks. I didn’t express this third thought because I was afraid that it was something obvious that I was missing, and I didn’t want to look stupid in front of Ono. Fourthly, I thought – I’ve been standing here for a while without saying anything, and they are both staring at me expecting me to say something, so I better say something fast. Fifthly, I thought – I can’t think of anything to say that sounds halfway intelligent. Sixthly, I thought – Maybe I can do that thing the monks do and trust that if I relax and open my mouth, truth will flow.

“Gum is sticky,” I said.

“I can’t argue with that,” said Mage-e-not.

Eighthly, I thought, (after cursing myself seventhly) – I have to remember that that trick only works with monks.

“I’m glad that monks came up,” I said, belatedly realizing that it had only come up in my inner monologue, “because I want to talk to you two about Phasia.”

“Big place,” said Mage-e-not.

“Zim, zing math,” said Ono.

For not the first time I considered how Ono’s sound words were not always a clear indication of what she wanted to communicate. “Do you like math, Ono?” I asked.

She nodded noncommittally.

“That’s good,” I said with more enthusiasm than I felt. “I’ve talked to Dirk, as you know, and I have good news and bad news.”

I’m not sure what either of them said, because for a few seconds my hearing, my field of vision, my sense of touch and even my taste buds broadcast the color red to me. I couldn’t believe I had said that I had good news and bad news. I tried to imagine the things I would rather have said to Ono. Phrases like, ‘I’m sexually unable to please a woman,’ came to mind. I couldn’t stand the old, ‘I have good news and bad news’ line. As far as I was concerned, the bad news was that I would have to go through with this stupid pattern of insincere exposition, and the good news was that I would die eventually – hopefully.

And why was it that while my sight, taste, hearing and touch was all red, that my nose was smelling fish sticks?

They were looking at me again. It was my turn to speak, and I had already used my, ‘gum is sticky,’ line. Best to say it straight out.

“The bad news is that I’ll be banished to the land of So-Ho with Dirk; the good news is that Phasia is free of the global swarming threat, so you can go to Phasia with Tease.”

“I fear not,” said Tease, who Akwar-like appeared behind me “because my order allows only one carry-on when we travel.”

“What’s your carry-on?” asked Mage-e-not.

From beneath his robes, Tease produced his loofah, which made Ono blush, and me to feel strangely inadequate.

“But Tease,” I said, “they have to go with you. You and Swampy are all that stand between Ono and Lustavious’ non-fraternal intentions.”

“Even so,” said Tease.

Ono looked me in the eyes. They were sad, beautiful eyes. They made me feel like going swimming. I don’t know why. “You want me to go with him?” she asked without a single sound word.

“I can’t take you with me,” I said. “Dirk tells me that the trip would kill you or that you would at least lose half your nose. This continent is doomed, and this is the only way to save you.”

“Is the continent doomed?” Mage-e-not asked Tease.

“Yes,” said Tease.

“What’s the idea of keeping it a secret?”

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret. You didn’t ask me until just now.”

“I can’t argue with that,” said Mage-e-not.

“Lip Ton Tease,” said Ono, “if I we sizzle for Showr Rinn, we shuffle to Phasia?”

“If you can prove your usefulness? yes, the masters would consent.”

“What about,” said Mage-e-not, “if Ono and I can create fish sticks out of regular sticks?”

“With or without tartar sauce?”

“We haven’t worked on tartar sauce yet.”

“Talk to me when you have.”

“Naught ought,” said Ono. “Mingle at tinkle creek.”

“I hope she means the brook,” said Mage-e-not.

We stepped over to the brook. Ono raised her hands and said, “sprinkle ups-a-daisy.”

Water rose up out of the brook and began showering down – mostly on Tease, but like most of Ono’s spells, not everything went where it was meant to. A bit of moss attached itself to her face, giving her a distinguished looking mustache. A small fish landed in Mage-e-not’s hand. He stared at it intently.

“Be a fish stick,” he said, and his head disappeared.

The fish looked resentfully at where Mage-e-not’s face should have been, wiggled out of his hand, and flopped its way back to the brook.

Water sparkled on Tease’s brow as he loofah’d his head vigorously. “Your ability,” he said to Ono, “is a truly useful talent. Can you tolerate being around hundreds of naked men?”

“Mutter, shrug,” said Ono.

“Then you may come to Phasia.”

“What about me?” asked Mage-e-not.

“What talent do you have?”

Mage-e-not’s head blinked back and forth between visible and invisible.

“I am sorry,” said Tease. “I would not be permitted to bring you.”

“Neigh,” said Ono. “Mage-e-not whoosh as carry-on.”

“What about Swampy?” I asked.

“Swampy has always been welcome,” said Tease. “Wise birds are honored in my order.”

“There are more birds like Swampy?”

“No,” said Tease as if he completed a masterful poem.

I searched folk tune on YouTube and got this.  Pretty, but they should enunciate better.  I couldn't understand a word.