Tag: magic

Trickle Me Elmo

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Want to know your future?
Well, some psychics read tealeaves. Others read palms.
I know a few who even still read those goofy Tarot cards.
My pal Elmo’s different. He calls himself the Whizzing Wizard. Or the Whizzard for short.
He can tell your future by drinking your urine.
Not directly, mind you. He’s got a silver bowl to drink it out of.
Other psychics think it’s awful. They call him “Trickle Me Elmo.”
But they’re just jealous, because he’s pretty damned accurate.
Elmo’s problem is he charges a bloody fortune for his services.
But, hey, can you blame him?

The Death of Chivalry

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Darkness!
“Damn fuse!”

“Voltmaster hates visitors!” The Hermit growled. “Cautions to you!”

Sir Arthur nodded. “Wear my magic helmet, Lucy.”
“But…”
“I insist!”

For hours they walked through Grimwood.
Then, they came to a clearing.
Within, Voltmaster’s Watchtower stretched into the stormy sky.
“Shall I knock?” said Arthur.
“Is it safe?” asked Lucy.
Before Arthur could respond, lightning struck the tower, shattering the battlements and raining stones on the couple.
“I guess not,” said Lucy. “Arthur?”
He lay dead on the ground, skull crushed.
Lucy screamed.

Safe at home, she put a penny in the fusebox.
Light!

How the other half lives

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Up in the North, no faerie can resist the call. The blazing sun sings to them, leaving other merriment to the all-too-brief night.
But down in Tierra del Fuego, unlucky faeries toss newspaper scraps in their tiny fire pit and huddle around the flames.
“This is s-s-s-s-s-stupid,” chattered Mugwort, rubbing his hands.
“Let’s dance,” said Flitwicket. “It might warm us up.”
“Eurocentric b-b-b-b-b-bastards,” grumbled Mugwort. “Why’d they change the schedule?”
“Something about a bulk discount on Pixie Dust,” said Flitwicket. “Thank bureaucracy. Someone needs to frolic his frowns away.”
Eyes narrowed. Delicate throats growled.
Flitwicket sparked nicely on the flame.