“Kielbasa…Keith the Kielbasa King,” the sentient pierogi bellowed, greasy drool sluicing from its red, fang-filled maw.
Luca could hardly believe what he was seeing. How did this thing even work anatomically? Were its organs mashed potatoes or were there actual organs inside the fried dough shell? Did it have bones?
“This is stupid,” Tschida muttered.
“Is that…you are seeing this, right?” Nick asked, his befuddled gaze taking in the pierogi monster. “I exorcised this bitch.”
Tschida sighed and adjusted his mask. “Technically, you missed him. AnthraPsycho moved him out of the way.” He spoke as if he were stating the obvious. “Now, this is what we’re supposed to do? Fight a…pierogi?”
Tschida was right – a pierogi was an odd choice for a monstrous form. But, aside from being fanged and sentient, with a small gold crown atop its head, this one had legs and arms appearing to be made of the twirling noodles used in haluski. At the ends of the doughy hands and feet sprouted claws of gleaming metal.
“Who calls himself a king? He got a shop, just like me. Don’t see me callin’ myself crazy titles. King! Hah! I’m an emperor then,” the creature ranted, growing even more, the flappy sides of his greasy body hitting the walls of the alley with a sploosh! “Emperor Pierogi!”
Luca flipped into the air to avoid the buttery splatters, but Nick and Tschida weren’t so lucky, their clothes taking a hit. Oooh! That would definitely stain if not cleaned quickly enough.
“This is bad! This is really bad!” Trinket shouted, zigzagging rainbows shooting from his long ears to convey his worry, as he hovered above the dumpster.
Luca laughed as he fell, hair trailing behind him with the ribbons – noble flags of the Midsummer Court. He landed gracefully atop the dumpster, spine straight, legs together. “Don’t despair and be ugly in your anger.” He tilted his head and winked. Wow! Winking even sent a trail of sparkles floating into the night.
“Don’t lecture me, little girl!” Emperor Pierogi barreled at him, feet making a wet slap, slap, slap sound. Doughy lips peeled back to eject a gob of grease. Why did so many men use terms like “girl” and “feminine” as an insult? “Greasy Butter Bomb with Chunks of Onion and a Hint of Olive Oil!”
Luca leapt again. He could quite literally leap higher than the pierogi shop roof. “Tomorrow is a brighter day. You have the advantage of being in business for longer, Emperor Pierogi…” He paused to sniffle. The onion burned his eyes! “All you need to do is smile more!” He remembered how Jennifer would hate it when men told her that, so he might as well throw it at Emperor Pierogi, if the villain was mixing misogyny with his strikes.
The Greasy Butter Bombs with Chunks of Onion and Just a Hint of Olive Oil was a rapid and a formidable attack, the globs flying as if fired from a machine gun. He panted as butter splatted his hair and face, even though he managed to dodge the worst of it.
The alley was slippery from grease, and half of his dodging consisted of sliding on one foot while his arms propelled wildly.
The Pierogi Emperor surveyed his damage, heating up with rage. The dough sizzled, sending boiling butter at the Midsummer Court. Where was Luca’s weapon? How did Nick and Tschida get theirs so soon?
“I’ll never lose to the Kielbasa King!” Emperor Pierogi snarled.
“The Kielbasa King isn’t even here,” Luca said. Maybe he could distract the monster while he figured out how to get his weapon. There wasn’t exactly time to ask Nick how he’d managed it. “What happened to our conversation about pet-friendly apartments?”
“Pets? Pets! Like damned dogs who are gonna piss on the carpet? Chew up the place? Used to have one bitch that kept trying to sneak them in. And you’re not as pretty as her. Like hell I’m gonna bend the rules for you. Animals belong outside!”
“Hey! Listen up!” Trinket hurled out of the alley toward the pierogi. “I am a hungry pup, and I will eat you! And—”
Luca tumbled through the air, catching Trinket under his arm, right as a greasy wad spattered the wall behind where the little dog had just been.
“Leave the fighting to us,” Luca admonished. “We’ll take care of this no-pets problem.”
Trinket showed his cute little teeth, trying to break free. “Let me at him! I love human food. I will eat him all. You’ll have to clean up my mess later, but it’s worth it!”
By now, Luca could hardly keep up with his watering eyes, also blinded by the flashes of blue light tearing through the asphalt as Nick tried to smash the creature with his hammer. Luca leapt to a rooftop to get away from the onions and assess the situation.
As his eyes adjusted, he noticed people had come onto their porches, some recording on their phones. Some were half-dressed, others sipped drinks.
“The hell is this?” a man in a flannel shirt asked, hugging a can of Local Lite to his chest.
“Well, there’s a man in a pierogi suit, George,” said the short woman with the curly, helmet-like elderly-woman haircut at his side. “Think it’s a pierogi sale. But it’s got to be 10:00 PM. They could be doing this earlier. Should call the cops.”
“It is noisy, but now I want pierogis,” George said. “Ever seen one that big? When they’re done with their show, think we can go there and eat it? Your spaghetti was undercooked…”
Emperor Pierogi heard the elderly couple’s conversation, too. His wide body swiveled, and it turned its attention to them.
Suddenly, the alley was filled with dazzling green light, snaring the monster’s interest yet again.
“This light hurts my eyes,” the woman said.
“That pierogi was comin’ here, but then it stopped.”
“Well, you can’t eat a man in a suit, George…”
Tschida leapt to Luca’s side in a glimmer of green light. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a hail of glowing cards at Emperor Pierogi. “Aces Wild!” The cards slashed through the soft dough, bringing the creature to his knees. Where had Tschida been these last few minutes? Probably using Chameleon Cloak. I should’ve used it to when I needed to get away.
“I don’t know where AnthraPsycho went,” Tschida said, not even breaking a sweat. “Maybe he has some kind of invisibility like we do, but I suspect he flew somewhere to watch.”
“Pink Prince Titania!” Trinket shouted from beneath Luca’s arm. “Raise your hands. Do what comes natural!”
What came naturally? He was Pink Prince Titania. He twirled, one leg extended, half-skirt flaring behind him, thrust one hand behind, reached out with the other. A white-handled scepter appeared in his hand, bows hanging from below the cat-eared heart crystal at the top. “Let hope banish all despair, by royal decree of the Midsummer Court!” He spun upward, hair swirling around him. Flowers sprouted from beneath Emperor Pierogi, green stems twining around his ankles, holding him in place.
Blue flames crashed around Emperor Pierogi as Nick took the opportunity to smash him with his hammer, shouting, “Be gone, unclean spirit! Carnage Exorcism!”
Emperor Pierogi screamed as pink and blue light covered the dough, becoming blinding before disappearing with a final burst that showered the dirty street like fireworks. There sat Stan the Pierogi Man, slumped beside a particularly egregious pothole. A big smile shown over the “Kiss Me I’m Polish” apron.
“Where’d the pierogi go?” muttered George.
###
Despair peered over the leaf-filled rain gutter of the pierogi shop, eyes narrowed. Stan’s jealousy had supplied the Black Diamond with so much power, and now that link had been severed.
Who is this Midsummer Court? They cannot be just humans. Did the Abyss Realm train assassins to mimic anime? But what would be the point of that?
The shop owner sauntered merrily into his workplace, still trailing sparkles and singing off-key about everyone having cats, dogs, bunnies, ferrets, and sugar gliders. Just one landlord allowing pets was a problem. The love of a pet was a direct counter to the misery the Black Diamond and the Gloom Realm needed to survive.
Prince Titania danced in the middle of the street, ribbons and ponytail trailing behind him, a stupid-cat-dog-bunny thing bouncing over his head. “I am Pink Prince Titania of the Midsummer Court,” he announced, mugging for the cameras with his absurdly elfin face. “All has been set to rights, and this place has been made a little more beautiful and hopeful!” He tilted his head and winked, sending a flurry of pink sparkles drifting into the night. Was this real?
They were very real – the three of them. And their presence might ensure Despair ended up on the throne sooner rather than later.
“I will destroy you, and your stupidly pert ass, False Prince,” Despair growled, clenching his fist. But he wouldn’t risk it now, not with so many gathered outside. Now sirens wailed in the distance. The police would be here soon. If Amethyst were around, perhaps he’d ask to watch some magical girl anime. He needed to research from credible sources, like Captain Celeste.
Puck’s head was turned away from Despair as the fan disappeared from his fingers in a shower of green raindrops. The breeze caught his waistcoat, the two tails billowing and providing Despair with a peek at the elegant curve of his bottom beneath the skintight silver-white pants. Ack! That one has a nice ass, too!
Despair spread his night black wings to glide above the mostly miserable streets. They should be wholly miserable!
He would speak to his father, perhaps get some guidance on this strange and surreal threat, then hope Amethyst was online.
Why had he seen those stars around Puck’s head and not Titania’s? What would Puck mean to his future? Would that emotionless bastard bring him down?
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