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

by John P. Logsdon

  Stelan’s jaw dropped open as the spokeswoman, an ogre who was wearing more makeup than anyone should be legally allowed to wear, was standing directly in front of a bike that held a one-fanged vampire and a human male with dirty-blond hair and a scraggly beard.

  He looked at the time and realized that his alarm hadn’t gone off. He was supposed to have beaten his prey to the bikes in the morning.

  “Damn!”

  By the time Stelan had made it out of the hotel room, his prey was 10 minutes gone. He jogged over to the counter and pulled out his wallet.

  “I need a bike to Gakoonk.”

  “Next one goes in two hours and fifty minutes,” the clerk replied while eating walnuts.

  “I can’t wait that long,” Stelan said. “I’ll pay a premium or whatever. I have to leave now.”

  The clerk grabbed another walnut and crunched down on it. Stelan was surprised that the oaf’s teeth didn’t break.

  “Want one?” asked the clerk.

  “No,” Stelan said. “I want a bike to Gakoonk.”

  The clerk gave him a funny look and said, “Bike goes in two hours and fifty minutes.”

  “You already said that.”

  “So why you ask again?”

  “Because I am on an important mission.”

  “Oh? What mission?”

  “For a king!”

  “We don’t got no king in Fez.”

  “Not for your king,” Stelan said. “For the king of Yezan.”

  “Ah,” the clerk responded. “Nobody important, then.”

  Stelan wanted to reach across the counter and punch the ogre, but seeing that the beast was easily twice his size, he thought better of it.

  There had to be a way to get through to the dolt.

  He thought back on his experiences with various races in the Underworld. There were all types, to be sure, and each had its own cultural idiosyncrasies. He had never quite gotten the hang of dealing with ogres though.

  Stelan stepped away and opened his ePad. He searched about for ogre negotiation tactics. Most of what he found related to fighting and physical challenges. He glanced back at the clerk and determined this to be out of the question. Then he caught a section specifically for how the gnomes worked with ogres. It was widely known that gnomes could get ogres to do almost anything they wanted.

  The main point to note when dealing with ogres is that they rarely offer up information. Instead of making more heated demands, consider asking different questions.

  “Good news,” the clerk said as Stelan stepped back up to the counter. “Bike goes in two hours and forty-five minutes now.”

  Stelan forced a smile and nodded.

  “I don’t suppose there is another way to get to Gakoonk from here, is there?”

  “You could walk.”

  “That would take a long time.”

  “Yep.”

  “Is there another bike service I could try?”

  “Nope.”

  “Could I rent a bike to drive on my own?”

  “You got Fez bike license?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Nope.”

  Another ogre approached and pushed Stelan out of the way, knocking him down.

  “Hey!”

  “Want bike to Gakoonk,” the new patron said to the clerk.

  “It leave in two hours.”

  “I take one with layover.”

  “Okay,” the clerk said, “that one goes in ten minutes.”

  Stelan got up off the ground as the ogre walked away with a ticket in hand. He brushed off the dirt from his pants and picked up his ePad and his wallet. The nerve of some people, he thought. He had a mind to give that ogre something to think about.

  “So I can get a bike now with a layover?”

  “Yep,” the clerk answered. “One ticket left.”

  “With him?”

  “Yep.”

  “Where is the layover?”

  “Pren.”

  Stelan groaned. “But that’s the opposite direction!”

  “Yep.”

  “Fine,” Stelan said with a shake of his head. “One hundred dollars?”

  “Two hundred.”

  “It costs more to take a trip that’s not direct?”

  The clerk crunched another walnut. “You go farther. It cost more.”

  “That makes no sense at all,” Stelan said. “I’m paying more to be inconvenienced.”

  “Yep.”

  “How much more time does this add to the trip?”

  “Two hours and fifteen minutes.”

  “Nevermind,” Stelan said, deciding that he had a better plan than to deal with Fezian rules and regulations.

  Stelan checked his cash surplus and found that he was running at roughly $1,000. Socialism or not, he had the feeling that he could get one of the bikers to leave now for that kind of money. If not, he still had plenty of money in the bank that he’d been saving for his 10-year “touch-up,” which was something he did to ensure his physical appearance kept to his exacting requirements. He wasn’t worried, though. The amount of ransom the king of Argan offered alone should cover any knocks on his current reserves. Adding on the fee that the king of Yezan promised would keep him living plush until the next job arrived. If worse came to worst, Stelan could always set someone up so that the king of Yezan would seek another assassination contract. Stelan had done it on more than one occasion in the past.

  On the outside edge of the bikes was a bright green tent. It was full of thick-legged ogres. This is where real negotiation would happen.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

  “And ladies,” one of the ogres said.

  “Ah, yes,” Stelan said. “My apologies. I have a proposition for you.”

  “What kind?”

  “I need to get to Gakoonk.”

  “Bike goes in two hours forty minutes,” one of the ogres said.

  “He could go by layover,” said another.

  “You too helpful, Carl,” the first one replied.

  “I have five hundred dollars for the first person to step up and say that they will take me to Gakoonk.”

  Three ogres jumped from their chairs and said they’d do it.

  “You were first,” Stelan said, pointing at what he assumed was a female.

  “Yippie,” she said dryly as the other two grunted and slammed back into their seats.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Stelan said.

  “Go where?”

  “Gakoonk.”

  “I not going to Gakoonk.”

  “Then you don’t get the five hundred dollars!”

  “Yeah I do,” she said menacingly. “You said that the first person to step up and say that they will take you to Gakoonk get the money. You ain’t said that they actually gotta take you.”

  “Semantics,” Stelan replied dismissively.

  One of the other ogres began to rise from his chair and said, “Looks like we gotta teach another tourist how we don’t like them tryin’ to cheat us.”

  “Yeah, and usin’ big words too,” said another.

  “Yeah, that too.”

  “That not fair,” said Carl. “You know that not what he meant.”

  “Shut up, Carl,” the female spat. “He said what he said.”

  “No, no,” Stelan said with a smile as he handed over the $500. “I’m not trying to take advantage of anyone. I’m happy to pay. It’s only fair.”

  Then he decided that he would take a different approach. “Carl,” he said, “could I speak to you privately, please?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You too helpful, Carl,” Stelan heard one of the ogres call out.

  He walked around to a spot where he was certain that none of the ogres could hear their conversation. It was not like they would be listening anyway, but Stelan didn’t want to take any chances.

  “What you need, mister?” Carl asked.

  “It just seems that you are more entrepreneurial than the other bikers, Carl.”
<
br />   “That not true,” Carl said. “I like women.”

  “Huh?”

  “There was that one time in boarding school, but I were just experimenting.”

  “No,” Stelan said. “Sorry. I mean to say that you are not tied down.”

  “Did that once too,” Carl said. “Just once though. Not for me.”

  Stelan swore at that moment that he would never go to Fez again. Not only did he have to deal with their damn socialistic rules and regulations, he had to put up with the average mental fortitude of a five-year old. To be fair, it was he that just lost $500 over semantics.

  “Let’s just get straight to the point,” Stelan said. “How much does it cost to purchase a bike?”

  “A new bike?”

  “Sure,” Stelan said as he opened his flask and took a sip.

  “Five thousand bucks.”

  Stelan choked.

  “You okay, mister?”

  “How much for a used bike?”

  “A good one is about twenty-five hundred,” Carl said. “But if you know how to fix ‘em you can get one for fifteen hundred.”

  “Do you know how to fix them?”

  “No.”

  Of course not. Why would he? That would be helpful right now and The Twelve knew that nothing that would be helpful would be in Fez at the moment. No matter, the ransom the king offered would more than pay for 10 new bikes, so a used one would be worth the investment.

  “How long would it take to get a used bike?”

  “Couple of weeks. Not a lot of them about.”

  “Unreal,” Stelan said, closing his eyes. “How long would it take to get a new bike?”

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s doable,” Stelan said. “How would you like to own your own bike, Carl?”

  TAKING A BREAK

  Paulie was amazed that he had been able to get any sleep at all.

  After the first few minutes of hearing Burt and Guk yammer about werewolf life, and after he had gotten used to the sound of the flywheel that kicked in after Guk had maintained 75 mph for awhile, the world had slid into a nice restful place to be.

  The only reason he had woken up was because the sound of the flywheel began whirring down. It also didn’t help that Burt had shaken him.

  “We’re almost at the picnic spot,” Guk said as Paulie questioned the logic of being awakened.

  “Picnic?”

  “Yeah,” Burt said. “Guk says that they always stop at this place between Fez and Gakoonk so he can rest his legs a bit and so the passengers can stretch out.”

  Paulie wiped the sleep from his eyes and pulled his sunglasses back down.

  They were approaching a little town that was similar to the way-station they had stopped at on the trolley ride from Hubintegler. This town was more quaint. It contained one shop that appeared to double as a house. There was also a modest field that contained a few benches and a shimmering pond.

  There was a sign outside that made clear they carried many blood peaches.

  Paulie perked up at the thought.

  “How long is the layover?” Paulie inquired.

  “One hour, exactly,” Guk replied.

  “I have to say, Guk,” Paulie said, “for a fellow whose country is highly socialistic, you are quite a stickler for punctuality.”

  “I’m a business-ogre,” Guk said with a shrug. “I not care about politics, unless it get in way of business. My money come from non-ogre. Most non-ogre ain’t socialist. Non-ogre ask for Guk during tourist season cause they knows that Guk delivers.”

  “That makes a lot of sense,” Burt said. “Guk knows customer service, Paulie.”

  Paulie nodded as they pulled under the awning of the little shop and stepped off the carriage. His back was a bit tender, but he felt mildly rested. Another couple of hours and he’d be good as new. He grunted to himself about how all of this had not only cost him a small fortune, it’d also messed up his sleep-cycle.

  “Beautiful day,” Burt said.

  It was, actually, even to a grumpy vampire. The sky was clear and deeply blue. The temperature was just a little on the warm side, which Paulie preferred. A cool breeze lifted now and again, but it was so minor that it mainly served to bring the smell of fresh flowers into the clearing.

  “Guk says they’ve got sandwiches and stuff inside. He says they’re tasty, too.”

  Paulie reached into his pocket and gave some money over.

  “Thanks, Paulie. I’m starving.”

  “It’s okay, Burt. Can you grab me a couple of blood peaches?”

  “I’ll get the best ones.”

  “Thanks,” Paulie said with a smile. “I’m going to go over to that bench under the trees.”

  The bench was covered with a thick layer of pollen. He looked around for something to brush it off with and saw a broom resting beside a tree with a sign over it that read:

  Pollen? Brush it away with the broom.

  If only everything was so well thought out, he thought, the world would be a better place for sure.

  He picked up the broom and found that it was covered with tree sap. His hands were a sticky mess.

  Looking back at the sign, he noticed the small print.

  The broom may be covered with enough tree sap to make your hands feel they’re soaked in goop. If so, come on inside and buy some Sap-Be-Gone for only $5!

  Paulie swept the pollen away and set the broom back. He was careful not to touch his clothes or anything as he sought out some way of cleaning his hands without spending any money.

  He walked over to the pond and smiled to himself as he began rinsing his hands. Paulie assumed that many people just went about paying $5 to get the sap off their hands, but Paulie was a thinker, and he was cheap.

  The cold water felt rather nice against his ever-warming skin. He didn’t like the sunshine, obviously, but wearing black clothing wasn’t exactly conducive to keeping cool. He moved his hands this way and that, making a collection of ripples that flowed all the way to the other side of the pond.

  He felt a pinch. He guessed that he’d just brushed against a sharp little stone near the water’s edge. He looked down but it was tough to see with the sun glaring off the top of the water.

  Another pinch, this time much harder.

  He yanked his hand out of the water. There wasn’t any blood, being that he was a vampire and all, but there was a cut in his flesh and it hurt a fair bit.

  Pulling up his glasses and covering the reflection from the sun, Paulie was looking at a sharp-toothed little fish that was staring right back at him. It had the look of a hungry beast that had found a meal. He checked his finger again. For such a small fish, it carried quite a bite.

  Paulie stood up and began heading back to the picnic table. Burt was already there and was walking toward the broom.

  “Burt,” Paulie called, “don’t touch the broom. It’s covered with sap!”

  Burt stopped.

  As Paulie got closer he saw another sign on the opposite side of the tree.

  Tried to wash the sap off in the pond? Pick up a pack of Jerzo’s Bandages inside for only $10!

  TAKING AIM

  Carl was the happiest ogre Stelan had ever met.

  “My mom always told me I’d get my own bike,” Carl said. “She say, ‘Carl, one day you get your own bike.’ I remember like it were yesterday.”

  “That’s great, Carl,” Stelan said. “If you could maybe go a lot faster?”

  “A lot?”

  “Put it this way, the faster you go the faster you get the deed to the bike.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  The trees were whizzing by and Stelan was grateful that he’d opted for the extra large glass windshield. Bugs were splatting against it so fast that Carl had to keep the wipers going at full force. Without that protection, Stelan would have been picking out all sorts of flying insects from his clothing.

  “So when did your mother tell you that you’d get your own bike?” Stelan asked.<
br />
  “Yesterday,” Carl answered.

  “Right.”

  Stelan had to admit that the bike was a rather cushy mode of transportation. It was scary at times because of the speed and the occasional hill that made his stomach feel like it was going to expel its contents, but mostly it was a lovely ride that offered a nice breeze and stunning scenery.

  “I don’t suppose you know how long it’s going to take to get to Gakoonk?”

  Carl looked down at the console and scratched his head. He didn’t seem like the brightest of the bright.

  “Uh,” Carl said after adding numbers in the air, “in a little while.”

  They’d been going for about an hour already and Stelan was certain that they were traveling faster than the prince’s carriage seeing how Carl was pushing the speed limit. As long as he arrived in Gakoonk in time to stop his prey from hitting the portal, all the money would be worth it.

  A squirrel ran out into the road and Carl swerved slightly to avoid crushing it. Stelan would have preferred to see the little rodent squished to pieces. He never did see the point of scavengers.

  “We gonna stop here in a few minutes so my legs can get a rest,” Carl said.

  “Where?”

  “Rest place. Can get food too.”

  “We will have to make it quick,” Stelan said.

  “Yeah, okay. I be fast about it. Need to keep my new bike on the road!”

  “Good thinking,” Stelan said.

  The bike came out of the tight path and the landscape opened. Carl cut the flywheel as they closed in on the rest area.

  Carl pulled in next to another bike that sat under the large awning.

  Stelan put two and two together and gazed around. There were a couple of people sitting at a picnic table by a rather large pond. It was the vampire and the prince.

  “I get legs stretched out and then we go,” Carl said.

  Stelan jumped a bit. “Hmmm? Yes, right. I’m going to walk around a bit myself.”

  “We go soon though.”

  “Make sure you do not leave without me,” Stelan said matter-of-factly and then pulled out a slip of paper. “Remember that I will not give you the deed to this bike until you have safely delivered me to Gakoonk.”