Comedic Fantasy Bundle #1: 4 Hilarious Adventures (Tales from the land of Ononokin)

by John P. Logsdon

  HOME AGAIN

  The alarm startled Paulie awake.

  Glancing at the time, he groaned. Only three hours of sleep, but once Paulie woke up there was no going back to bed.

  He pushed open the box lid and was relieved that it was at least evening. Plus, if nothing else, being on vacation didn’t hurt. He’d make up the sleep in the morning.

  The hot water of the shower felt good and gave him some life. Adjusting his eyes, he noticed that there were still a few stray hairs in the tub. Paulie hoped that Mr. Biscuits had made it safely to Yezan. Granted, the man was a werewolf, and as vampire it was Paulie’s duty to loathe werewolves, but Burt was new to the werewolf business and therefore not very unlikeable just yet.

  Paulie got dressed and grabbed a Blood Bull from the fridge. It was the fizzy pop of choice in Viq these days. There was nothing more marketable than blood to a vampire.

  The smell of canine was still in the air. It probably would be for weeks.

  He pulled open his back patio door to get some cross-ventilation going.

  When he opened the front door to complete the cycle, the breeze pulled through the house, bringing with it the smell of shampooed dog.

  “Hello, Mr. Biscuits,” Paulie said through the screen door to the mutt that sat upon his stoop. Then he began walking back toward the kitchen and stopped. “Oh no.”

  He turned back and saw Mrs. Luden standing on her porch. She was looking down at Mr. Biscuits.

  “So you do have a dog?” she said as Paulie opened his screen door.

  “No, it’s just—”

  “You just called him Mr. Biscuits,” she said accusingly.

  “Yes, I know, but—”

  “And why does he have clothes hanging all over him?”

  “As to that, I have—”

  “That’s not a werewolf, is it?” Mrs. Luden asked ominously.

  “By The Twelve, no!”

  She squinted at him and then at Mr. Biscuits.

  “Something is going on here, Mr. Vergen,” she said, waving her finger at him. “You’ve not got a dog, then you have one. Your not-my-dog shows up here last night and then again tonight. Last night he was just a regular dog, but tonight he’s got clothes on. And my friend Vera told me that she saw you at the Orcmart during the day buying clothes that couldn’t rightly fit someone of your stature.”

  “Mrs. Luden,” Paulie said as he pulled Mr. Biscuits into his house, “I think you watch too many of those mystery shows.”

  “We’ll see about that, Mr. Vergen,” she said as he closed the door. “We’ll see about that!”

  ANIMAL CONTROL

  The first stop in Viq was animal control.

  Stelan figured that if there was a werewolf in town, it would either be dead, on the run, or in a crate.

  He’d be searching for a werepup, since the infection would be relatively new. It would be about a year before the prince was a full-grown werewolf when in animal form. A thought struck him then that it would be simpler to kill the prince when he was a werepup than it would be when he was a human.

  “What kind of dog would you like, sir?” asked the young man, who was one of the rare halfling vampire types. “We have all kinds from small to large.”

  “I am rather particular, truth be told. I will need to visit with each of them briefly and then wait and see how each reacts come the morning.”

  “Why the morning?”

  “As to that,” Stelan said, “I am not as averse to daylight as you are, so I will need to make sure the one I choose is capable of handling the brightness of the sun.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” the vampire said with a shrug as the radio in the main office beeped. “I gotta answer that call. Take your time with the dogs.”

  Stelan peeked inside a few of the kennels.

  If the prince had been a halfling, like the little vampire at the front, Stelan would have sought out one of the smaller breeds. He passed the larger mutts too since the prince wasn’t an ogre or an orc.

  He set his focus on the mid-sized group. Shaggy hair was a telltale sign of a werepup. There were three that fit the bill. Until morning hit, he wouldn’t be able to tell who was whom.

  “A werewolf!” Stelan heard the animal control worker yelp.

  “That’s right,” the voice on the speaker replied. “The lady said that she was sure of it.”

  “I’ll get everyone en route at once. Attention all personnel, we have a potential werewolf situation at the house of one Paulie Vergen, 279 Bawookles Drive. I repeat, all vehicles are to go to 279 Bawookles Drive to deal with a potential werewolf situation.”

  The guy snagged his keys and began to exit. “Sorry, buddy, but you’re going to have to go.”

  “I heard you have some excitement in the area.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I happen to be a detective myself,” Stelan said, flashing the fake identification card he’d had made in Dakmenhem many years ago. “I would very much like to be of assistance.”

  “I think we can handle it, pal.”

  Stelan stepped up to the small vampire and stared down at him.

  “Truly, I insist.”

  FLEA-ING THE CITY

  Damn it,” Paulie said. “You’re in trouble now, Mr. Biscuits!”

  Mr. Biscuits cowered in the corner as Paulie picked up a fresh “present” from the middle of the room.

  “Don’t you know how to use the grass like every other mutt?” Paulie complained as he opened his front door and launched the fresh turd, at full-force, directly into the face of an animal control officer who was standing on the front stoop.

  Paulie then slammed the door shut and pressed his back against it.

  “Damn it again,” he said.

  A powerful knocking came at the door.

  “I know you’re in there,” the voice said. “And now I also know you’ve got a dog in there! At least I hope that came from a dog.”

  “Mr. Biscuits, what have you done to me?” Paulie said to the still-shaking werepup. “We have to go. Right away.”

  Paulie grabbed a few quick items and stuffed them in the bag that he had put Burt’s clothes in a few minutes earlier. He then knelt down by Mr. Biscuits and looked the werepup in the eye.

  “I know you can’t understand me,” Paulie said as reassuringly as possible, “but you have gotten me into a lot of trouble. I have to get you out of the city right now, and when I do, you can never come back. Do you hear me? Never.”

  Mr. Biscuits simply licked Paulie’s cheek.

  “Open the door, Mr. Vergen. We just want to talk.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Paulie answered loudly. “I’m just putting the, uh, dog away so there is no fight in him.”

  “Very sensible,” the man called back.

  Paulie yelled out, “Just another moment.”

  “Don’t rush on my account,” the animal control officer politely replied.

  Giving Mr. Biscuits a shove, the two exited out the back. Paulie basically fell down the stairs on his deck as he rushed to get away from the scene. Mr. Biscuits followed right behind, clearly sensing the direness of the situation. After a couple of quick turns around the playground that sat just outside of his property line, they were bolting down an alley and away from the main road.

  Paulie led the pup through side streets as they headed toward the portal. Animal Control should have already let local authorities know that he was on the loose with a werewolf in tow.

  They’d have to be cautious.

  “If you want to make it out of this city alive, Mr. Biscuits,” Paulie said, wishing he’d had a leash for the animal, “you’re going to have to stay close to me.”

  A siren sounded as they approached one of the main roads that led to the portal station so Paulie ducked behind a tree. Mr. Biscuits followed him.

  As the vehicle zipped by, Paulie noted it was heading back toward his house.

  Once it was out of sight, the two moved down the road at double speed. Paulie
slowed up as another police car came zooming their way.

  He dropped to one knee to pet Mr. Biscuits, peeking up as the car sped past. The officer on the passenger side gazed over at him and their eyes locked for a split second.

  The car’s breaks slammed and Paulie took to running.

  “Let’s go, Mr. Biscuits!”

  The portal station was only two blocks away, but Paulie turned down one of the alleys that was too small for a car to get through.

  “Stop where you are, citizen,” the officer said through the loud speaker of his vehicle.

  Paulie kept running.

  He heard the screeching of the tires and looked back. The car was gone. They were obviously planning to catch him on the other side, so he spun on his heels and headed right back the way he came.

  Mr. Biscuits appeared to be having fun at this point. He was now in the lead and galloping at full force. Paulie was doing all he could not to fall face-first onto the ground.

  “Okay, Mr. Biscuits,” Paulie choked out through ragged breaths. “You’ve got to slow down!”

  The werepup mellowed his pace enough to allow Paulie to catch up, but they kept slamming the pavement until they hit the tunnel to the portal system.

  Paulie assumed that the police would be waiting at the station. It was the only logical thing they could do besides comb the streets.

  What would they be looking for? A vampire and a werepup, obviously. Mrs. Luden had no doubt given full descriptions to the authorities, and the officer that Paulie had just made eye contact with certainly got a good look at him and Mr. Biscuits.

  He gazed down at the werepup and got an idea.

  They entered the public washroom, then Paulie locked the door and started rummaging through his bag while catching his breath.

  He changed his shirt and put on his hat. Little as it was, it would have to do for his own disguise.

  Next he focused on Mr. Biscuits.

  Inspiration struck.

  Paulie pulled out his black scarf and tied it around Mr. Biscuits’ neck. Since it was a long scarf, he was able to get enough of a lead hanging off it that it was just passable as a small leash.

  “Mr. Biscuits, you’re going to be my seeing-eye dog.”

  Mr. Biscuits wagged his tail.

  Paulie cleaned up his bag and headed out the door to the portal.

  He had to stay stooped while holding onto the scarf, serving to make the blindness act more believable.

  They moved into the portal area and an officer took notice of them.

  “Excuse me, citizen,” the policeman said as Paulie approached the platform.

  Paulie looked up as though he were trying to find the source of the voice. He purposefully looked about a foot off to the right.

  “Yes?” Paulie asked. “Are you here to help me find the portal?”

  “Uh, no,” the officer answered. “We’re on the lookout for a vampire who’s harboring a werewolf.”

  “Oh dear,” Paulie said, keeping his head moving as if seeking out the source of the officer’s voice.

  “Agreed,” the officer said with a sideways glance. “You haven’t seen…um, I mean, uh…look…no, that’s not what I meant. You see…uh…I mean—”

  “Are you having fun at my expense, young man?” Paulie straightened up slightly.

  “No, sir! What I meant to ask is if you had happened to spot…uh, no, wait…uh—”

  “This is quite offensive,” Paulie said, shaking his head and wagging his finger at the empty space to the right of the officer. “Do I pay taxes in this city to be offended in such a way? I don’t think I do! Why, I have a mind to report you to your superiors for showing such disrespect to a man in my condition.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the officer replied shakily. “It’s not what I meant at all, sir. I’m just doing my job, sir.”

  “And your job is to make fun of the blind?”

  “No, sir! That’s not my job!”

  “Just a fun pastime for you, then?”

  “Huh? Oh! No, sir. It’s all a mistake, sir. Honestly!”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, sir. Honestly, sir. I would never be so disrespectful on purpose, sir. It’s not in my blood.”

  When a vampire compared something with blood, that vampire was being serious.

  “Fine,” Paulie said after a moment, and then began fishing for money. “I will chalk this all up as a misunderstanding if you would be so kind as to get me and my service dog a ticket to Yergarn Station and help us get away…I mean underway…help us get underway.”

  “I will pay for your passage, sir. It’s the least I can do.”

  A few minutes later Paulie and Mr. Biscuits were out of Viq and standing in Yergarn Station.

  It was all Paulie could do to not pass out from the stress of the confrontation he’d just endured. He found an empty bench and dropped onto it, feeling a mixture of elation, excitement, and horror.

  How he’d managed to get through that ordeal was beyond him. It was so spontaneous. Paulie was not one to pride himself on reactionary thinking, but he couldn’t deny that the feeling was exhilarating.

  He started laughing.

  Mr. Biscuits jumped onto the bench, licked Paulie’s face, and then curled up beside him.

  SNOOPING AROUND

  The house on 279 Bawookles Drive was crawling with animal control workers when Stelan arrived with the dispatcher. He showed his badge around until he gravitated toward the woman in charge.

  “What happened here?” he asked her.

  She checked him over. “Who are you?”

  “Inspector Bumache,” he showed his badge. “I was at the animal control office when the call came in. I’m from Dakmenhem. We have a gentleman that caused quite a stir the other evening and it’s feared that he may have been infected with Werewolfism. Rumor was that he had headed south. It is my job to bring him back to stand before the judge.”

  “Is that so?” she said after a moment.

  “It is,” Stelan answered and then worked on diverting her attention. “So, he came through here, did he?”

  She shrugged and said, “According to the neighbor, a Mrs. Luden, the guy who lived here, one ‘Paulie Vergen,’ was odd. Stayed to himself mostly. A loner. No pets, and didn’t seem too fond of cats. Suddenly, two days ago, he ended up with a dog. Yesterday he bought clothes that were too large for him to wear. Tonight the dog showed up again and it had clothes hanging off it.”

  “Must be a werewolf,” Stelan nodded. “Any idea where they went?”

  “Not a clue. They were here when our first officers arrived, but, well, they got away.”

  “You mean they escaped?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How?”

  “As to that,” she said with a sigh, “we don’t exactly get the highest quality applicants in our division. They’re not much on tactics. Basically, they stood at the front door waiting while Mr. Vergen and the alleged werewolf ran out the back.”

  “I see,” Stelan said. “Mind if I look around?”

  She didn’t.

  Stelan checked the rooms, hunting for clues.

  He found pamphlets for different styles of coffins, trashcans filled with the pits from blood peaches, a few fizzy pop cans, and lots of canine hair. In the living room, Stelan noticed a computer that was still on. He saw a web page with directions to Yezan via the portal systems.

  If the vampire showed up at the king’s door with the werewolf in tow, there would be dire consequences for the assassin.

  Stelan could not allow that.

  He studied their route carefully.

  It seemed that their plan was to travel to Yergarn Station, down to Fez, then go by land to Gakoonk, up to Aopow Station, and finally arrive in Yezan. The trip would take a little over a half-day to complete. Why they didn’t just go through Civen Station, down to Dakmenhem, up to Aowpow, and then to Yezan was confusing to Stelan. It would have saved them a few hours and they could have avoided Yergar
n all together.

  And why go to Yezan anyway? It would make more sense to go straight to Argan and collect the reward.

  The reward!

  That reward money was his, not some disgusting little vampire’s!

  “Find something?” asked the female agent.

  “Hmmm?” Stelan said, and then quickly closed the lid on the computer. “Just some images of male vampires wrestling.”

  “So?”

  “Um…in the nude,” he added.

  “Oh,” she said, blinking rapidly. “Everyone is different, I suppose.”

  “I don’t judge,” Stelan deadpanned. “I think I’ve found all I can here. The city of Dakmenhem thanks you for your cooperation.”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  THE YERGARN INCIDENT

  Yergarn was one of those stations that had very strict rules for incoming travelers. Everyone had to go through a full-body scan, which meant long lines and lots of waiting. The other three stations weren’t nearly as strict, but the only route that avoided Dakmenhem and Xarpney brought Paulie and Mr. Biscuits here.

  They would have to get in line in order to get to the next portal. They could roam around the station and shop all they wanted, but in order to get to their next destination, they’d have to get scanned.

  Paulie removed his hat and took the scarf off the werepup. He stuffed both items into his pack and then got up to get in line.

  “Hey buddy,” an officer said as Paulie took his place in line, “you got a license for that dog?”

  “I was unaware that I needed one,” Paulie said.

  “Well, you do.” The man pulled out a book and flipped it open. “Name?”

  “Mine or his?”

  “Yours.”

  “Paulie,” he coughed, feeling nervous. Everyone was watching him. “Sorry, that’s Paulie Vergen.”

  “Dog’s name?”

  “Mr. Biscuits.”

  “How long have you had the dog?”

  Paulie thought about this for a moment.