He found the journal of travelers and glanced it over. It looked like a passport was all that was required, at least on the face of it. But there was a checkbox for “Answered questions right.”
Flipping over the card, he found the questions and began to chuckle.
1 - Are you here to do business?
2 - Do you have anything to declare or should we search you?
3 - Are you planning to hurt anybody while you’re here?
4 - Did you lie about any of the last three questions?
There was nothing else of interest in the room. He could have gone through the pockets of the guards and taken what little money they had, but it would be better if they couldn’t explain how they got knocked out. If something was missing when they awoke it would easily point toward robbery and that would only serve to make it more challenging when Stelan returned with the prince.
The clock showed only a minute was left on the portal’s recharge so he started to head back downstairs, but stopped.
The guards had obviously been in the middle of breakfast when he had come through the portal. There was a carton of milk sitting on the far edge of the table and Stelan noted something odd.
He picked up the milk container and saw a picture of Prince Hughbarian Tessan on the side with a caption that read, “Have you seen me?”
MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR
Paulie started walking toward the portal that Bumache had just been on, hoping that the assassin’s destination was still on the readout. Assuming it was Yezan, Paulie would just backtrack to Gakoonk and try to find an alternate mode of travel.
Just as he got close to the portal, a couple of scrags approached.
“Well, what have we got us here, Umbdoo?” the shorter of the two asked.
“Looks to me like a fella and his pooch,” replied the bigger man, “and that fella looks like he could stand a little less weight in his change purse. Eh, Inky?”
“I would agree.”
Paulie’d had enough. This entire trip was wrought with interruptions, near-death experiences, fear, and challenge after challenge. Of all that, the worst part was people’s constant desire to try and separate him from his money.
“Think he’s looking for some trouble, Umbdoo?”
“I don’t think he wants no trouble, Inky. Do ya, mister?”
“Actually,” Paulie said, looking from face to face, “I think I do want some trouble.”
“Yeah, that’s…What?”
“You heard me right,” Paulie said half-crazed. “Gentlemen, I have been through Hubintegler’s civil war; a trolley ride from hell down to Fez; a bike ride that was, well, actually quite peaceful until I was shot at repeatedly by an assassin while on my way to Gakoonk; approached by the same assassin and conned out of my beloved werepup; and I believe I have just eaten a rotten egg sandwich. Throughout this entire ordeal I have remained passive and patient, but there is only so much one can take before that patience comes to an end.”
The scrags were looking uncertainly back and forth at each other.
“Seeing that I have survived through all of that, and seeing that there is an assassin who will be highly sore to find out that two low-lifes such as yourselves took away his prize, I am most assuredly in the mood for trouble.”
“Now, now,” Inky said with his hands on his hips, “there’s no reason to get bent out of shape. We’re just doing our jobs is all.”
“Yeah,” Umbdoo agreed, taking a step back, “just doing our jobs.”
“Your jobs consist of robbing people?” Paulie asked.
“Well, not just robbing people. I mean, that’s a big part of it, sure, but we also do a lot of begging.”
“That’s true,” Umbdoo confirmed. “Don’t like that side of the gig, though. Feels kinda beneath me, ya know?”
“It seems to me that you hoodlums have a choice here,” Paulie said. “You can either walk away peacefully or we can get into it. We vampires are quite a bit stronger than you humans.”
At that, Paulie cracked his neck from side to side and showed his fang.
“He’s even missing a tooth,” Inky whispered.
“Let’s get outta here,” Umbdoo said and then took to running behind his smaller friend.
Paulie’s ire was still high as the two scrags fled the scene. It was rather funny, truth be told, but Paulie wasn’t in a laughing mood.
He turned away and stepped onto the platform, checking the readouts.
Bumache hadn’t gone to Yezan.
He had gone to Argan.
At least that’s what the map showed. It could have been a ruse, but the assassin hadn’t seen Mr. Biscuits until the portal flipped on so Paulie doubted there was any misdirection going on.
One of the documentaries on portal locations talked about downtimes in the Upperworld’s locations. Paulie checked over the map details on Argan and found that there was a 10-minute downtime for the portal there. He had hoped it would be much longer, but it would have to do.
“We have to go to Yezan now,” Paulie groaned.
Mr. Biscuits panted in response.
“It’s still dark there, so they’ll all be in wolf-form. I’ll be the smell of the town.” Paulie looked down into the werepup’s eyes. “No matter what happens, Mr. Biscuits,” Paulie said, “we did our best.”
And with that, Paulie pressed the button.
They arrived in a dome-shaped portal room without windows and only one door.
The place was empty.
Paulie assumed that this was because it was the middle of the night and there was nobody to watch over the portal while in werewolf-mode.
Knowing that Bumache would be right behind them, Paulie walked to the main door, took a deep breath, shrugged, and boldly stepped out into the darkness of Yezan.
Documentaries were wonderful things, and Paulie had seen many of them in his time, but there was something vastly different between watching a grouping of werewolves on TV and seeing them live.
He thought certain he was going to wet himself.
Mr. Biscuits also seemed a bit distraught over the situation.
In no time at all there was a legion of beasts moving toward Paulie.
So this was how it all ended, he thought dolefully.
Paulie had no desire to die anytime soon. He had new plans and interests. He wanted to travel, to see the world, to meet new cultures, and to explore as much of Ononokin as possible.
He felt his mind slowly shutting down. He was becoming a detached observer of his final moments.
Then something quite unexpected happened.
Mr. Biscuits bared his teeth, yanked away from the leash, and began a ferocious barking spree that caused the wall of werewolves to leap back.
They were probably more shocked than anything. It wasn’t like the werepup would be a match for any of them, much less all of them.
But Paulie was touched. His werepup was trying to protect him.
Paulie’s mind was racing so quickly that he felt like he had eons to make decisions. Unfortunately, his actions took twice as long to enact.
“Stop him,” a man at the portal doorway demanded.
Paulie looked back as if in a dream and saw the form of Stelan Bumache leaping from the building.
Time sped back up.
Paulie reached out and snatched up Mr. Biscuits’ leash before the werewolves regained their senses.
Bumache nearly tripped as he tried to stop himself from barreling into one of the massive canines, then he scurried back until he was standing alongside Paulie.
Paulie scanned the area and saw the church was about a hundred yards off to the left. There was no way he could outrun a pack of hungry werewolves.
“You’ll never make it,” Stelan foreshadowed, clearly knowing what Paulie’s plan was. “Just stay as still as possible and don’t let them sense your fear.”
“Sense it? I’m sure they can smell it.”
“Hmmm? Oh.”
Stelan took a step away.
<
br /> The growls increased and the werewolves started fanning out.
“Just give me the prince and I’ll get him out of here.”
“Then what?” Paulie said, keeping his eyes focused wolfpack’s leader’s feet, knowing better than to look into the beast’s eyes. “I heard you on your TalkyThingy last night. I know your plans for Burt.”
One of the werewolves howled and they all began the singsong. More were running in to join the pack, and they were preparing to strike.
“What if I were to give you my word?”
Paulie scoffed at him. “What is the word of an assassin, Bumache?”
“It’s the only honorable quality we can offer.”
“Forgive me for not believing you,” Paulie said.
“Have it your way,” Bumache said. “Go ahead and die. I don’t care. It’s not like they’re going to kill your precious Mr. Pooper.”
“It’s Mr. Biscuits, you jerk.”
“Whatever,” Bumache shrugged. “The bottom line is that he’s safe and you’re dead.”
“And what about you?”
“I think they’ll be more interested in killing a vampire than they will in killing me.” He then put out his hand as if to say, “If you want the dog to live, give me the leash.”
The howls stopped and the giant werewolf heads lowered.
They were about to attack.
“Fine,” Paulie said, handing Bumache the leash. “I want you to take this, though.”
Paulie reached into his pocket and pulled out the things that he had gotten from the kennel. He had a tennis ball and the bottle of liquid that the dwarf had given him.
“Who wants the ball?”
All the werewolves stopped. Their heads seeming to nod yes as they looked back and forth between the tennis ball and Paulie’s eyes.
“What are you doing?” Bumache said.
“Buying myself some time.”
Paulie reached down far enough that Mr. Biscuits saw the ball too. Then the vampire threw the ball with all his might. The werewolves took off after it, as did Mr. Biscuits, which was precisely what Paulie was hoping for.
Stelan got yanked from his feet. Mr. Biscuits was incapable of dragging the assassin with him, but the surprised Bumache was lying face-first on the ground and that’s all that Paulie needed.
He popped the cork on the bottle that the dwarf had given him and doused the assassin with its contents.
“What the hell are you doing?” Bumache yelled, jumping to his feet and throwing the leash to the ground.
Paulie grabbed the leash and began pulling away from Bumache.
The lead werewolf and his pack had returned. He had dropped the ball at Paulie’s feet as if hoping the vampire would throw it again.
“I don’t know what your game is, vampire,” Bumache said, “but you’re on your own now! They’ll leave the pooch alone anyway, so I’ll just take him once you’ve been torn to shreds. And another thing…” Bumache stopped. All the werewolves were now looking intently at the assassin. The liquid was taking effect. “Mr. Vergen,” Bumache said evenly, “what was that stuff you poured on me?”
Paulie lifted up the bottle and read the label.
“It just says ‘WLP’ on the back of it.”
“That’s Werewolf Love Potion,” Stelan said, his face going very pale.
“Ah, yes,” Paulie read the small print, which said that WLP would make even a frigid werewolf go insane with desire over anyone wearing the potion. “From the looks of it, Bumache, I’d say you’ve got about five seconds before you become the most popular toy in Yezan.”
“Oh shi—” Bumache was yelling at the top of his lungs as he jumped up and ran toward the river.
Paulie had never seen a human run so fast. Not even in documentaries.
A couple of moments later Paulie and Mr. Biscuits were enjoying a brisk walk to the church while Bumache was threating, “I’ll get you for this, Paulie Vergen!”
HANDLER FLEFFY
The building was obviously a church. It had a rustic front made of worn wood and gray stone. The windows were stained-glass, proffering images of werewolves with halos. There was a single tower that ran out from the top of the building. At its apex hung a large brass bell that had seen better days.
Paulie knocked on the door.
He turned back to make sure he was still in the clear. Bumache could be heard yelping in the distance. Paulie wanted to feel bad for the man, but he just couldn’t. If nothing else, there was a bit of justice in what was happening to the assassin. There was little doubt that Bumache had countlessly done to the world what the werewolves were now doing to him.
Paulie heard a metallic scraping. He looked back to find a set of eyes peering out at him.
“Yes?”
“Hello,” Paulie said, after clearing his throat. “My name is Paulie Vergen”
“A vampire, eh?”
Paulie blinked.
“You can tell that from my name?”
“No, I can tell that from your teeth…or, rather, tooth. Plus, you just have that vampirish look to you, you know?”
“Not really, no,” Paulie said, affronted.
“Oh, like you can’t tell a werewolf when you see one?”
Paulie looked down at Mr. Biscuits and remember the day he found the werepup sitting on his stoop.
“Apparently not,” Paulie admitted. “Listen, to your point, I’m a vampire.”
“I knew it!”
“Yes, well, you should be well aware that I’m not exactly welcomed in these parts.”
The man slid the peep window shut and opened the door.
He looked a bit like a wizard, except that he was wearing cut-off shorts, tennis shoes, and an “I love Chihuahuas” t-shirt. Aside from that, he had the standard bushy gray beard, long gray hair, rough skin, and was wearing a tall, cone-shaped hat.
“You may step into the foyer,” the man said.
Paulie pulled Mr. Biscuits inside.
The man stuck his head out the door for a moment, sniffed the air, said, “Hmmm,” and then closed the door again.
“I’m Handler Fleffy,” he said to Paulie. “I don’t suppose you’re the one responsible for unleashing a love potion on some poor soul, are you?”
“How did you know about that?”
Handler Fleffy pointed to his nose. “I may not be in werewolf form, fella, but I still have the nose for it.”
“Yes, it was me,” Paulie said. “I dumped it on an assassin who is out to slay Mr. Biscuits.”
“Who is Mr. Biscuits?”
Paulie pointed to Burt’s canine form.
“New werewolf?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Biscuits stood up, lifted his back leg and a moment later turned back into Burt. Paulie and Handler Fleffy helped him maintain his balance and got him into a chair. Paulie removed the collar and got out the man’s clothes.
“Thanks,” Burt said shakily. “I hate that.”
“How long has he been this way?”
Paulie shrugged. “I’ve only known him for a few days, but based on the latest episode of Princes Gone Missing, I’d guess a little over a week.”
“Ah,” Handler Fleffy said. “So this is Prince Hughbarian Tessan?”
“What?” Burt said.
“That’s right,” Paulie answered, putting his hand on Burt’s shoulder, “and there’s an assassin out there looking to end his life.”
“What’s this assassin’s name?” Handler Fleffy asked.
“Stelan Bumache.”
“I’m a prince?”
“Yes,” Paulie answered.
“Seriously,” Burt said, his face in a state of disbelief, “I’m a prince?”
Paulie nodded.
“If it’s Bumache that’s hunting him,” Handler Fleffy said, “then that means that King Larkin is the one wanting him dead.”
“Why would the king of Yezan want him dead?”
“The princess is pregnant.”
“So?
”
Handler Fleffy pointed at Burt. “He’s a new werewolf.”
“And?”
“And he’s royalty.”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this,” Paulie said, bemused.
“The princess is not going to allow a commoner to impregnate her, right?”
“I suppose not?”
“She wouldn’t,” Handler Fleffy confirmed. “It’s interesting enough that she forced herself to have relations with a man at all, being that she doesn’t really like them.” Handler Fleffy again motioned toward Burt. “She’s just over a week into her pregnancy. I was present during the physical.”
“Burt’s going to be a father?” Paulie said loudly.
“I’m what?” Burt said, jumping to his feet. “Wait a second here. So you’re saying that I’m a prince and a father? How did this happen?”
“The same way it’s always happened,” Handler Fleffy explained. “Two people drink more than they should, they go to a room somewhere, put on some animal costumes, and then they have relations.”
“I was with you all the way up until you hit the animal costumes part,” Paulie said.
“Is that not normal?” Handler Fleffy asked.
“Normal is a relative term, I suppose.”
“Can we get back to my situation, please?” Burt said exasperatedly.
“Your situation is that you are the father of Princess Terrissa’s undelivered litter, you’re a prince from the Upperworld, and you have an assassin looking to kill you in order to fulfill a contract put on your head by the princess’s father, King Larkin.”
“Oh,” Burt sat back down.
“You could have put it more gently than that,” Paulie said.
“He asked,” Handler Fleffy responded with a shrug.
Burt sighed. “What happens to me now?”
“As to that,” Handler Fleffy told him, “I’m going to take you into the Circle of Quandary, which is in the inner sanctum of the church, and we will engage in the ritual of Gettumbakdamemreeze.”
“Will it hurt?” asked Paulie.
“It’s never hurt me before,” Handler Fleffy said.
Comedic Fantasy Bundle #1: 4 Hilarious Adventures (Tales from the land of Ononokin) Page 36