**
I had seen enough good spell-slingers to know that Connie was a bad one. First off, she used a lot of ingredients. 90% of magic can be done without anything like a physical ingredient. It's all about ways to focus the caster's energy or energy drawn from the surrounding environment in specific ways. The best magi were the ones who could manage to do it with little more than a few words and a gesture, though even some of them liked to carry props. A properly prepared staff or wand could aid significantly in the stress, and besides it just looked cool. Image is important to these people.
Connie, however, had a briefcase full of junk that she brought back from her car. So, so much junk. Assorted gels. Unguents, even, things that someone might just call goo. Powders of various natures, including something that I honestly think was just paprika. The skull of a small animal, possibly a gopher. Maracas, which... I don't even know what those would even be for.
I watched her flit about like a busy bee, pouring powders, drawing lines with goo, shaking her maracas, and chanting. “You know, Connie, when I asked if you wanted to help, I was under the impression that you would be done sometime this month. Just throwing that out there.”
“Shhhhhhhhh! I am channeling the powers of the universe,” Connie said. “MU CHU CHIA CAN FUNG DAI OOOOOON!”
I winced. Lydia? That doesn't sound like a real spell. I've heard several of them, and I am going to say right now that this one sounds fake.
I will admit that she does not seem to be the best at this, Lydia agreed psychically. She is doing her best, though, and is that not what really matters?
Somewhere in the theater complex, something exploded. No, at the moment, I'm going to say that is not a huge comfort at all. Speed is notably more important than effort at this particular point. I'm just saying it.
Yes, she is a bit horrible, Lydia agreed. Do you think we should just ignore her and go looking ourselves while she works here?
Honestly, yes, but if we do she's probably going to cry.
Softie, Lydia thought fondly.
I am not a softie! I just don't... well, I mean, if her magic works, then it will be helpful. That part was true, so...
Oh, you are doing the same thing you did with Tyler during that case in Kansas. Letting her help even though she is rather bad at this. All because you felt bad making her sad, Lydia said, mirth clear in her mental voice. Hopefully you will not ditch her on the side of the road because she annoyed you too much, as you did with him.
Tyler, in my defense, had it coming.
I don't know, I rather liked him. I wonder if we shall ever encounter him again?
Jeez, I hope not! He was a rampaging incompetent, and I left him by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I don't know what would be more worrisome, that he held a grudge for how the Kansas case ended, or that he didn't. His attempts to help might be more trouble than his trying to take revenge!
Lydia sighed. That is somewhat logical, and yet I still feel compelled to disagree with it. Sometimes I truly loathe you.
No, you dooooooon't, I replied, in a sing-song tone (of thought). You say you dooooooo, but you keep coming along with me whenever I go anywheeeere. You get depressed when I leave you behiiiiind. You get bored withoooooooout meeeeeeee because I make your life fuuuuuuuuuuun. You looooooove me.
Lydia didn't reply to this, but she made something that might have been a grumbling sound. I chalked this one up as my win in our never-ending battle for snarkpremacy, and as the magnanimous victor, I dropped the topic and turned my attention back to Connie.
“SUNG FWAN KOOM FLANGE WREN HUM CHOW!” Connie shrieked.
I stopped paying attention to her and started pondering if the fact that the theater was abandoned, and thus there was nobody watching the concession stand. I walked over and started checking out the candy, firmly of the belief that if you aren't watching your caramel closely, you can't be upset if someone walks up and takes some of it.
“All right!” Connie said proudly as I totally didn't steal a bunch of chocolate for later. “I have finished boning.”
“Wait, what?” I asked, briefly wondering if my ears were actually working correctly today.
“I have imbued my bone with magical power,” Connie said proudly, holding up the rodent's skull, its eyes glowing. “Now that the boning is complete—”
“Do you really have to call it that?”
“—my bone will be extremely sensitive to external stimuli!” Connie continued, that big, bright, totally oblivious smile still lighting up her face. God help me, she just looked so impossibly proud of herself. “You just wave it around, and when something sets it off, it will twitch in your hand. But be gentle, my bone is fragile, and if you're too rough it will break. I spent a lot of time boning to set this up, so it would be bad if it failed because you set it off prematurely.”
I admit that at this point, I was silent for a bit longer than I should have been. And when I finally was able to get out a coherent sentence, it wasn't asking about the nature of the spell, or anything that would help me use it to fight the monster and save the day. It was, “Connie, just a quick question: you have never actually listened to yourself when you're discussing magic with people, have you?”
She blinked at me a few times, and the puppy comparison only got stronger. “Why? Was my description of boning too complicated? I could try to make it simpler.”
“No, no, it's... it's not that,” I said, just a bit sadly. “I... I completely get how very boned we are at the moment.”
“Oh good,” Connie said, her smile coming back full force. “I know that boning can be a bit confusing on your first time, but just stay calm and don't think too hard about it, and I'm sure that instinct will just take right over.”
I winced. Lydia?
Yes, Eric?
When we tell people about our adventures in the future, I think we should avoid mentioning this one.
CineMagic Page 5