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

by John P. Logsdon

  He shook his head and shut his ePad.

  No, he couldn’t just wait in Fez and hope that they stuck with their proposed route of travel. What Stelan had to do was get right on their tail and stay there until such time that he could strike.

  The line moved forward and Stelan stepped up to the counter.

  “Where to?” asked the ogre.

  “One for Hubintegler please.”

  “How many?”

  “Sorry,” Stelan replied. “I thought I had already said ‘one.’”

  “You did, but I ain’t asked yet.”

  “Right,” Stelan said kindly. “One then, and could I have a window seat please?”

  “Aisle or window?”

  Stelan sighed. “Window.”

  “Fifty dollars.”

  Stelan pulled out his credit card, but the teller tapped the sign that said, “Cash Only.”

  “When does the trolley leave?” he asked, taking out the cash.

  “4 p.m.”

  “Why not this morning?”

  “Cable broke,” the ogre answered and then motioned him to move away. “Next!”

  Stelan stepped away and reviewed the specifics of the trolley network. The vehicles would pull out at 4 p.m. and hit the way-station at 7:30 p.m. There would be a 30 minute layover and then another three hours to their respective destinations.

  If the vampire and prince were on the trolley coming from Hubintegler, Stelan would meet up with them at the way-station, scout them out, and then hop on the trolley back down to Fez, lying low until he could cut down the vampire and take the prince into his own custody.

  If they weren’t on the trolley then he would catch up with them in Hubintegler at the portal station, which promised to be out of commission for at least an hour after the trolley coming in from Fez was due to arrive.

  Either way, Stelan should be able to get control of the prince before the night was over.

  END OF THE TOUR

  After nearly a full day of touring buildings, talking with the staff at Gnoogle’s main headquarters, and getting the full garden experience of the wondrous town of Hubintegler, Paulie and Burt were finally taken back to the trolley station.

  “This is the final leg of the tour,” the guide said from the front of the bus. “It’s the world famous Greyogre trolley system.”

  Paulie leaned across the Humbee to catch the vision of the trolley itself.

  The station blocked half of the view, but what Paulie could see looked like a long bus. It was painted red and yellow and it had large black tires with white rims. The station was just a standard white building with a few small windows. Above the main entrance sat the view screen that they had seen earlier that morning. It was now showing the latest numbers from the stock market trades.

  “The Greyogre trolley,” the guide was saying, “originally started as just a simple bus system. It offered one-day trips between Fez and Hubintegler, charging a nominal fee. But the amount of ogres required to pedal the bus from Fez to Hubintegler and back meant that only four actual passengers could ride at a time. It wasn’t a very lucrative business model.”

  Paulie and Burt giggled.

  “Twenty years after Greyogre started, the gnomes presented the idea of connecting the busses to an underground cabling system instead. They argued that it would employ more workers since the cables would still be powered by the peddling of ogres, and it would mean higher wages since it left the actual bus open to many more passengers.”

  Paulie checked his watch. They still had another few minutes before the trolley left.

  “After the ogres agreed to the plan, the gnomes got to work, hiring dwarfs to dig out the underground network.” The guide pointed to an access panel that Paulie assumed opened up to the peddling stations. “The gnomes ran the cabling, which had been set up to run about five miles per segment. It takes 250 peddlers to keep everything rolling throughout the day.”

  Paulie raised his hand.

  “Yes?”

  “250 peddlers is a lot of people to keep on a payroll for two bus trips a day, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” the gnome agreed, “but the gnomes expanded the trolleys to hold up to 100 customers. At $50 per customer that equates to about $20,000 a day, assuming all seats are filled on the four trips.”

  “You said it was two trips,” Burt said.

  “I was speaking specifically for Hubintegler’s side of things. Our trolley leaves in the morning, gets to Fez in the afternoon, takes a short break, and then carries a new set of passengers back up. Another trolley does that same thing from Fez every day. So it’s a total of four trips.”

  It still didn’t seem like much money from Paulie’s perspective, but he assumed that the peddlers only put in a solid two hours of work a day. At that amount of work, even a daily take-home of $20 wouldn’t be awful for an ogre.

  “The gnomes had wanted to add tracks as well,” the guide continued, “but the ogres saw no point, which is why things are powered by peddles. We just hooked up the cables to pull the trolleys along from below. Since the bus was no longer powered from above, the gnomes suggested calling it a trolley, instead of a bus.”

  “Wouldn’t it make more sense to use the electromotors that you use for these Humbees?” Paulie asked.

  “Most definitely,” the gnome guide responded enthusiastically. “We’ve offered a great number of ideas to make things run more efficiently, but each suggestion gets batted down due to the irrational ogre fear that jobs are more important than advancement of technology.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Burt.

  “Ogres are more socialistic in thought,” Paulie answered before the guide could respond. “The use of technology would displace the need for 250 ogres to peddle. From Fez’s perspective, that translates to 250 ogres who are out of work.”

  “Correct,” the guide said with a smile. “Instead of bettering themselves with new skills, they stick to traditional ways of doing things. Ogres don’t like change.”

  Neither did Paulie, truth be told. He loved the idea of change and the excitement that it offered, and he wished, incessantly, that he could embrace a more adventurous lifestyle, but rationalism always seemed to prevail in his thinking. Of course, he was now sitting in a Humbee in the middle of Hubintegler waiting for a trolley to take him to Fez.

  “If there are no further questions,” the guide said, “it’s been my pleasure taking you both on this tour today.”

  Paulie and Burt got up and thanked the guide and the driver and then walked into the trolley station to await the next departure.

  ROAD TO HUBINTEGLER

  After a full day of hanging with the locals in Fez, Stelan was more than ready to get out of town, but he kicked himself for not having purchased both seats on his side of the aisle. His co-passenger turned out to be a rather snotty (quite literally) young woman who was intent on staring at him.

  “May I help you?”

  “Nope,” she said with a gap-toothed smile. “Just enjoyin’ the scenery.”

  He sighed.

  “Name’s Maraleeloulou,” she said, holding out her hand. “What’s yers?”

  “Not interested,” he replied, keeping his hand to himself.

  “That is a common name in these parts, ain’t it?” asked Maraleeloulou. “Where I’m from you get names like Berl and Derl and Earl and Nerl, Tucker and Nucker and Lucker and Fu—” The trolley hit a large bump. “—and that’s just the women’s names,” she finished. “But down here it’s like ya’ll’s names is either ‘Not Interested’ or ‘Get Lost’ or ‘Beat It’ or some other two-word combination. I don’t know how ya’ll tell each other apart, truth be told.”

  Ah, the joys of a trolley ride. The marketing geniuses in Xarpney had made Greyogre a household name. Affordable travel at its best. Not. Even the portal systems were half the rate of the trolley and there was little worry about having to socialize.

  “So what’s your story?” asked Maraleeloulou.

  “A
re you writing a book?” Stelan replied tersely.

  “Maybe so,” she said with a wink.

  “Well, make it a mystery and leave my chapter out.”

  “Come on now, love. We’ve got us a long ride ahead. May as well go about makin’ the best of it.”

  “I would completely agree,” Stelan said flatly. “For me, the finest way to do that is to suffer through this trip in silence.”

  “Suit yourself, Not Interested,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ll just turn my attention to this fine young fella over here.”

  He praised The Twelve silently and checked his timepiece. The sign at the station said it wouldn’t arrive in Hubintegler until nearly midnight. That was a long time to struggle through this veritable hell of a trip.

  Stelan shut his eyes and began to meditate.

  ROAD TO FEZ

  I’m exhausted,” Paulie was saying as the trolley pulled away from the station, “but I have to admit that having that tour was worth every penny I’ve spent so far on this trip.”

  “It was pretty interesting,” Burt said, “and like I said before, as soon as I find out who I am, I’ll make sure you’re paid back every penny you’ve spent on me.”

  “What if you’re a bum?” Paulie asked without thinking.

  Burt looked away.

  “Sorry, Burt,” Paulie said, cringing. “I didn’t mean that. I’m not myself lately.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “All this daylight is hard on my system and I’m sure I’m going to have a bit of a sunburn from being outside today.”

  The trolley slammed into an enormous pit and Paulie felt his stomach lurch. They had just finished eating a couple of gnomepies at the station, which was not a pie made of gnomes, as Paulie had assumed. It actually was a combination of spices, a crispy crust, and whatever meat was locally available at the time. It had been quite tasty, but his stomach was none too pleased at the moment.

  “I just need to get some sleep and then everything will be fine,” Paulie said reassuringly. “You can’t help the circumstances.”

  “You’re a good man, Paulie. I don’t know who I was before all this happened, but I hope that I would be as helpful to someone in need as you have been to me.”

  Paulie wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t see it as a case of kindness. It was just the right thing to do. When someone was in trouble, Paulie helped them. Maybe this was why his coven called him “soft.” If so, that was okay with him. None of them would have helped Burt.

  It just wasn’t Paulie’s style to stand idly by while someone in trouble got raked across the coals. It never had been.

  Even back in school he would stand up for the kids that got picked on. Of course he was most often the kid getting picked on. But not always, and though it would have been the easy road to let someone else take abuse for a while, Paulie couldn’t stand by and watch. His crooked nose was a testament to the number of times he’d butted in where he shouldn’t have.

  What Paulie had trouble comprehending was why others considered themselves so superior. He couldn’t count how many times he’d seen shows like The Underworld Royals and Princes Gone Missing where the upper class snubbed their noses at the common person. How anyone could even fathom spending two minutes with the likes of those people was baffling to Paulie.

  “Your beard is really coming in, Burt,” Paulie said, trying to change the subject. “I’ve never seen anyone grow facial hair so fast.”

  Burt shrugged, rubbing his chin.

  “Honestly, I wouldn’t even recognize you from yesterday.”

  “I’ll shave as soon as I get a chance.”

  “Kind of suits you, to be honest,” said Paulie.

  Paulie’s facial hair grew about as quickly as the hair on his head, so not very quickly at all. Looking at Burt he imagined the man would have to shave twice a day to keep up with the growth.

  “How long before we get there, do you think?” Burt asked.

  “It’ll be a while yet. Certainly will be sundown before then.”

  Which Paulie was not happy about. It meant that Mr. Biscuits would be returning before the trip ended and with his doodling capacity Paulie fully expected that they’d be kicked off the trolley.

  “You shouldn’t have had that gnomepie,” Paulie said.

  “What was I to do? I was starving.”

  “I know, but you have no idea how many gifts you leave around when you’re in werepup-form. It’s unbelievable how any creature could go that much.”

  Burt put his head in his hands and said, “Sorry, Paulie.”

  Paulie knew that Burt couldn’t help what was happening to him. He was at fault, certainly. Unprotected sex in this day and age was just asking for trouble. Still, though, he seemed like a good, down-to-earth man that just had a momentary lapse of judgment. It was so unfair that a few poorly spent minutes could result in a lifetime of pain.

  “No, Burt,” Paulie said, “I’m being a jerk. Like I said before, I’m just tired and a bit sensitive. Let me try to get a bit of sleep.”

  It would be hard to sleep with all the noise and the bumpy road. Paulie had taken the aisle seat to be as far away from the sunlight as possible, but as it dipped toward the horizon it shined its burning essence directly into his brain.

  He pulled up his cloak and drifted off to sleep.

  WAY-POINT PAULIE

  Against all odds, Paulie had gotten some sleep before the trolley pulled into the way-station between Hubintegler and Fez. All the passengers were getting out to stretch their legs. Paulie and Burt saw no reason not to follow suit.

  It was a small town with a fueling station, a few houses, and a convenience store. Paulie imagined the store pulled in a fair profit considering the trolley traffic. He just hoped they had some lotion to help cool off his skin from the damage done by the sun.

  “I’m going to use the bathroom,” Burt said.

  Paulie was not surprised, but he was glad that there would be no fine involved this time.

  He walked from shelf to shelf and found all sorts of items. There were chips and chocolates, canned foods, toiletries, vehicle parts and fluid replacements, magazines, cheap clothing, and along all the walls were refrigerated compartments that housed everything from bottled water to fizzies to alcohol. They even had hot foods available at the front. It was quite a haven for a weary traveler.

  When he finally came to the lotions section, he found too many choices. Some had plant extracts, some had chemicals, and some had both. Paulie wasn’t quite sure what the best option would be, since he hadn’t dealt with sunburn in quite some time, but he made the assumption that a chemical product would be more effective. He grabbed “Uncle Jerb’s Skin Fixer.” It promised instant relief and had a built-in 400SPF and a sunless-tanning component. Paulie wasn’t certain what sunless-tanning was all about, but none of the other lotions offered anything more than 30SPF, so he went with it.

  “Get everything you need?” Burt asked, carrying a couple of bags of chips and a fizzy pop.

  Paulie wanted to ask Burt how he planned on paying for his groceries, but saw that it would only serve to hurt the man’s feelings.

  “Actually,” Paulie answered as he handed a few bills over to Burt, “could you grab me a Dr. Fizzer and a honey roll?”

  He was feeling weak. What he needed was blood.

  He had considered waiting until everyone was asleep on the trolley and then having a quick nibble off the cleanest person he could find, but he knew he couldn’t go through with it. Not only would it be wrong of him to do it, he’d never get through the process of turning into a mosquito without waking up at least half the bus.

  He paid for the lotion and then went to the restroom to put it on. He got it all over his head, face, and neck. Then he rubbed it in until it was transparent. It smelled a bit like coconut and roses.

  Paulie found Burt leaning against one of the posts under the awning just outside the building.

  “You smell like a coconut,”
Burt said as Paulie saddled along side him.

  Paulie grunted and then noted that the sun was getting precariously close to setting. He grabbed the chips away from Burt, explaining that he couldn’t allow Burt’s werepup-form to make a mess in the trolley.

  “But I’m hungry, Paulie,” Burt said.

  “I know, Burt, but once you get into werepup-mode, you don’t understand anything I’m saying, and when you gotta go, you just up and do it no matter where you are. We can’t risk getting thrown off the trolley.”

  “Just a few chips.”

  “No can do,” Paulie insisted. “I’ve already invested a lot of money in this trip, and I doubt that I’m going to get much return on that investment. I’ll tell you what, though. If you’re good then I’ll give you some chips along the way.”

  A man in a dark trench coat eyed them dubiously before dipping into the store.

  “This is so embarrassing,” Burt said.

  “Yeah.”

  They pulled out their tickets and showed them to the driver before moving back to their seats.

  Along side of them was another trolley. It was facing north and the little digital sign on the side said “Hubintegler.” Paulie was glad that those passengers would be heading into a war-free zone now that the woodland gnomes and city gnomes had turned their attention toward a common enemy.

  Burt and Paulie sat quietly as they waited for the second leg of the ride to begin.

  “Wrong trolley,” the driver said to a man who had stepped inside. It was the same man that was wearing the dark trench coat.

  “I need to get on this trolley,” the guy said.

  “You got a ticket for Hubintegler, not Fez,” the driver argued. “This trolley is going to Fez.”

  “I know that, but I need to go back to Fez.”

  “Doesn’t work like that. You got a Hubintegler ticket.”

  “I know what kind of ticket I have,” the man said with a sneer. “I bought the damn thing, didn’t I?”