Your Broom or Mine?: Magic and Mayhem Book Eight

by Robyn Peterman

  “Holy shit,” Sassy muttered. “I’d rather be human than look like her. If this fucking play didn’t mean so much to Bob and the reputation of Assjacket, I’d wax that noxious turd so fast she wouldn’t even see me coming. That's Japanese for dehairing a gaping thunder hole.”

  “Are you sure that was Japanese, guurrlfriend?” Zorro asked with a chuckle. He sat in a kiddie pool he’d acquired during the break in order to find his inner-shark wearing his pink assless chaps.

  “Might have been Canadian,” Sassy conceded, giggling.

  In the short time we’d been at it, Bob had already removed half of his new unibrow as he wrote and rewrote the script according to Mae Blockinschlokinberg’s bizarre and offensive visions. Zorro splashed around in six inches of water and gnashed his teeth like a shark. When Zach wasn’t smiling at me, he looked like he wanted to tear Mae Blockinschlokinberg’s head from her squishy shoulders, and Roger continued to plunk out songs about massive teeth biting tasty bottoms. If it wasn’t my reali-tree, I would have laughed.

  “You. Dryad,” Mae Blockinschlokinberg shouted at me. “You’re dreadful. I want you to get bitten by the shark in the pink pants then do an interpretive dance about death and sharp teeth embedded in your ass. Everyone else do deep knee bends and grunt. The ensemble will represent the blood and innards of the victim. Make sure your grunts sound like kidneys and bowels.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth so I didn’t call her a gaping jackhole. The strange and uncomfortable sensations I'd felt earlier returned. I tried to shake them, but the more she focused her putrid attention on me, the more they intensified.

  “Do I sound like I’m joking?” she demanded.

  “You sound like you’re missing a few screws,” I muttered under my breath. Goddess, how I loathed this woman.

  “I’ll do it,” Sassy said, saving me from the humiliation. “I’m excellent with interpretive death dances. It’s one of my foreplay moves with my mate Jeeves. Zorro, bite my butt—not really hard, but make it look good. I’ll scream and shimmy a little. Also, I’ll roll my head so my hair will be featured since it’s fabulous and blonde. I’m going for a tragic yet really hot vibe. Roger, you sing the part about the bloody detached fingers and the fact that we’re destroying the oceans with prophylactics like condoms.”

  “Umm… it’s plastics—not prophylactics,” Roger corrected her.

  “Whoops, my bad,” Sassy said as she stretched a bit to warm up for her dance. “I must have misunderstood because I was thinking in British and you were speaking French. Happens all the time.”

  Amazingly, Sassy was even able to render Mae Blockinschlokinberg silent. Sassy was a very powerful weapon of mass confusion.

  “Hit it,” she shouted as she stuck out her bottom for Zorro to bite. The next fifteen minutes defied logic. Sassy gyrated. Zorro gnashed. Roger sang. Zach and I grunted, searching desperately for a noise that sounded like a kidney or a bowel.

  As Roger warbled about bloody appendages in an up-tempo jazzy beat, Zorro hopped out of the kiddie pool and darted to the wings. He dragged out a glittering pink pole that he’d clearly stashed as a just in case prop. Straddling the pole, he did a routine that would have made the Goddess blush. Sassy, not to be outdone by her fabulous, bare-assed goat co-star, grabbed her broom and made it an obscene duet.

  Roger’s visually disgusting lyrics punctuated by laughing grunts from Zach and me created a shitshow like no other. It was mortifying, hilarious and so very wrong. However, the crowning jewel was when Sassy waved her hands and dressed all of us in matching pink ass-less leather chaps.

  “Nope,” Zach yelled, falling over and laughing. “I’m done.”

  “Oh my Goddess,” I said, looking over my shoulder at my bare butt. “I don’t think the sheriff would wear something with his ass hanging out.”

  “However, the ass is outstanding,” Zach commented as I blushed furiously.

  Sassy bounced over and grinned. “I don’t need to send the note,” she told me. “He definitely likes you.”

  Waving my hand, I replaced my obscene pants with a rocking Prada mini dress. “Yep. He likes me. No need for the note.”

  “I’m just so excited he’s not a hermaphrodite,” she said, hopping onto her broom and flying in tiny circles around the kiddie pool.

  “AND CUT. I’m BRILLIANT,” Mae Blockinschlokinberg yelled as her followers applauded with gusto. “That was perfect. Bob, did you get all of that down?”

  “For real?” Bob choked out, yanking at the few hairs left in his unibrow.

  I was going to have to supply Bob with many unibrows over the next week. He was plucking them off as fast as I was putting them back on.

  “Yesssssssss, for real,” Mae Blockinschlokinberg snarled. “What we just observed was utter brilliance from my unparalleled prowess. Nothing like this has ever been performed. It’s genius because of me. I shall be the toast of the community theatre world. I’ll be back tomorrow. We will add the orgy and the grisly death of the sheriff. And fire the costumers. The show shall be done in the nude.”

  “What the fuck?” Zach muttered, shaking his head and squinting at all of us in shock.

  “Hang on a sec. I’d like to call a quick cast meeting,” I insisted as Mae Blockinschlokinberg stared daggers at me.

  “I second that,” Zach said, backing me up.

  “And I third it,” Bob added in a defeated tone.

  Bob, Roger, Zorro, Sassy, Zach and I huddled together on the stage out of earshot of the insane woman.

  “What’s wrong?” Sassy whispered.

  “Everything, guurrlfriend,” Zorro said with a chuckle. “While I have no problem sharing my fine tushy with the world. Not sure displaying my Johnson is a good plan in my newly adopted town.”

  Roger’s nose twitched and he wrung his hands. “I’m afraid Zorro is correct. Swinging Johnsons and bouncing bosoms don’t really scream family-friendly show.”

  The crazed clicking and flashing of phone cameras made me glance to the back of the room.

  “Do her minions ever speak?” I asked, watching the little horrors point and take pictures of us while Mae Blockinschlokinberg paced the back of the hall, looking like a bomb about to go off.

  “Haven’t heard them utter a word,” Roger said with a shudder.

  “They probably speak Nard-Hole-ish,” Sassy informed us, nodding her head seriously. “It’s the language of ass-pipes who have no fashion sense and are addicted to their phones.”

  There was a moment of silence after Sassy’s revelation… or it was possible we needed a few seconds to bite back our laughter. Sassy was a font of nonsense, and I liked her more with each bizarre fact.

  “I need a clarification,” Bob said, getting back to the matter at hand. “Is there an orgy in Jaws?”

  “Not that I recall,” Roger volunteered, scratching his head in confusion.

  “No, guurrlfriends and boyfriends,” Zorro said. “There was no orgy in Jaws.”

  “And I die a grisly death?” I questioned. “In the movie, Roy Scheider lives.”

  “I can’t do this,” Zach said, snapping his fingers and replacing his assless pink chaps with a pair of faded jeans that made my mouth water. “Actually, none of us should do this. We will never live this down.”

  “As much as I want to win an award, I have to agree,” Bob said sadly.

  Roger shook his head and bounced on his toes. “I concur. We will have to take the financial hit and the insufferable gloating from the Tennessee Man-Titty Thespians. It will be a bitter pill to swallow, but maybe a few years from now, we can redeem our heartbreaking and humiliating failure. We must fire Mae Blockinschlokinberg.”

  Bob pulled a plastic baggy of berries from his pocket and swallowed them back like they were antacids. Waving my hand, I supplied everyone with nose plugs. I had no problem with Bob needing his magical berries, I simply didn’t want the stage covered in vomit when he started tooting. We had enough of a mess to deal with as
it was.

  “I’ll make up the financial loss,” Zach said before I could volunteer. “I would be delighted to cough up my savings to get out of this. How much did you pay Mae Blockinschlokinberg?”

  “Two hundred thousand dollars,” Bob whispered, starting to cry as he kept cramming berries into his mouth. “Our investor is likely to be very upset.”

  “Understatement,” Roger agreed with agitation.

  “Wow,” I muttered, thinking my twenty thousand in the bank wouldn’t even help much. Any time I’d needed money over the years, I’d taught botany in magical schools. As a dryad, it fit my skillset perfec-tree-ly. I’d have to log a heck of a lot of hours in the classroom to help Bob and Roger out. “That’s a lot of money.”

  Zorro fainted.

  “I can't cover that,” Zach said as surprised as I was by the amount.

  “Holy shee-ot,” Zorro added as he came to and got back to his feet. “That's a lot of hay.” He gave a low whistle. “Where did you people get that kind of money for a community theatre? What kind of high falootin’ investor do you Shifters have?”

  Bob leaned in and his eyes grew huge. “Cats,” he whispered. He farted, and the magical berry gas gagged us all.

  Quickly, everyone put on their nose plugs. Bob grimaced in apology.

  “Your investors are cats?” I asked a bit nasally since my nose was now plugged. I wasn't positive I’d heard him correctly.

  “Not exactly, but the wise guy cats represent our super-secret investor. We have no clue who the money man actually is,” Roger said, glancing around warily. “But from what we understand, he wants a return on his investment, or we’ll be put in cement shoes and thrown in the Assjacket river.”

  Zach’s eyes narrowed. I could tell he was trying not to laugh. “Names. Give me the names of the wise guy cats.”

  Again, Roger glanced around. Bob removed the last two strands of his unibrow. He looked to Roger who gave him a curt nod.

  “Fat Bastard, Jango Fett and Boba Fett,” Bob revealed with a gulp.

  It was my turn to try not to laugh. How on the Goddess's green earth did Zelda’s cats get involved with someone who had that kind of money?

  “My sister’s familiars are the wise guy cats representing your illustrious investor?” Zach asked, squinting at Roger and Bob in amusement.

  Sassy smacked her forehead and giggled. “I can’t believe it, but I have an excellent idea,” she announced. “I’ll wax the cats and get the name of the investor.”

  “Or,” I suggested quickly before anyone agreed to her awful plan. “I can ask them. They owe me a favor for de-stinking them. We should start at the point of least destruction and retribution.”

  Sassy cocked her head to the side in curiosity. “Was that German?”

  “Umm… yes,” I said to save time.

  There was no way I was going to grunt on stage naked then go through a grisly death. It was also abundantly clear that it would be devastating for Bob and Roger to lose their reputation in the community theatre world and possibly their lives to the investor. But Mae Blockinschlokinberg had to go. We’d work the rest out later.

  The cats did owe me a favor, and it would be a good way to use it. Maybe, I could get the hairy feline boys to give me the name of the investor. Maybe, the investor would listen to reason or at the very least, accept a payment plan. If we pooled our money together, and I found a teaching job, we could make it work. Saving people’s lives and avoiding public humiliation was a fine plan. Worst case scenario, we performed the nightmare-inducing play minus the director.

  “It might be dangerous,” Bob said to me.

  “It will be fine,” I promised, hoping I was right.

  Roger nodded his agreement. “Willow has big balls. And I’d like to offer up a few free therapy sessions as a gift to you.”

  I was thrilled that so many people thought I had hairy magical beans. I knew they were incorrect, but it was encouraging. And Roger’s offer had come at the perfect time.

  “Would you be willing to do couples therapy?” I asked, glancing over at Zach who gave me a thumbs up.

  “Absolu-tree,” Roger said with a wink. “I know a little Puntreelish!”

  Bob glanced back at Mae Blockinschlokinberg and squeaked in terror. “Okay, we need to make a move. It looks like that woman wants to eat all of us. Who’s going to do it?”

  “I’d be overjoyed to fire her,” Zach insisted much to the relief of Roger and Bob. “Nothing would give me more pleasure.”

  “Will she retaliate?” I asked, wondering how the nasty little woman would react.

  “She’s got her money,” Bob said, sounding worried about the prospect of a counterattack by the abomination. “There’s no breach in contract. We have fulfilled our end.”

  “Now, we just have to worry about the investor,” Roger said, paling considerably and looking like he might join Zorro’s club and faint.

  I wasn’t sure if it was Bob’s gas or the thought of cement shoes. Possibly both.

  This town was wonderful in every odd and strange little way. I loved it here. Now, all we had to do was fire Mae Blockinschlokinberg and cut a deal with the investor so no one died and it would be perfect.

  “We ready?” Zach asked with a wide grin.

  “Yep,” I said, taking in the relieved and terrified nods of the group.

  “Hey, Mae Blockinschlokinberg,” Zach said, walking to the edge of the stage. “You’re fired.”

  Mae Blockinschlokinberg turned purple and began to hiss furiously. Her minions dropped to the ground and began throwing tantrums that would have made a two-year-old hopped up on ten pounds of sugar proud. It was disturbing and bizarre. Mae Blockinschlokinberg waved her hands and a foul scented gray wind blew through the room. I winced and gagged. It was so putrid I could smell it even through the nose plug.

  “What did you say, you worthless piece of crap?” she bellowed at Zach as a slimy film covered her face and dripped off of her beige unibrow.

  “Umm… she’s not taking it very well,” Sassy said, waving her hand in front of her nose frantically. “I think she might have eaten an assload of Bob's magical stank berries.”

  “You’re fired,” Zach repeated with a grin on his face.

  “I do NOT accept,” she shrieked. “No one has ever fired me and no one ever will who wants to live to tell.”

  “There’s a first time for everything, lady—and I use the term lightly,” I said, doing my best to stay diplomatic even though all I wanted to do was blast the awful woman and her posse right out of Assjacket. I wasn’t letting Zach take all the heat, even though he seemed to be enjoying it.

  “I have an iron-clad contract. I am un-terminatable,” she snarled as her beady eyes bulged beneath her slime-covered beige unibrow. “I'll be back… tomorrow, and we will continue with the sheriff's death scene and the orgy bloodbath or you will regret it. I can promise you that.”

  With her horrifying refusal to be fired, Mae Blockinschlokinberg and her entourage waddled quickly out of the building.

  “Can she do that?” Sassy asked, confused.

  “She just did,” Zorro pointed out with a laugh of disbelief.

  “That was total bullshit,” Zach said. “Is she correct about her contract? Is it iron-clad against her firing?”

  Bob began to cry again. “I don’t know,” he blubbered. “She sent us a four hundred and forty-two-page contract and insisted we sign immediately.”

  “Did you read it?” I asked as my stomach churned.

  Bob and Roger both shook their heads no.

  “I tried,” Bob admitted. “But it all looked like Latin to me. Besides, she's not the kind of woman you keep waiting.” Bob tooted then gasped in embarrassment. “So sorry,” he apologized sincerely. However, the smelly effect of his snack choice didn't stop him from cramming more berries into his mouth.

  Crap. We couldn't fire her? This was an unexpected wrinkle.

  “And you signed the contract?” I pressed.

 
; Again, the boys nodded.

  Double crap. They were already out two hundred thousand dollars to an investor who wanted a return on his money. If Mae Blockinschlokinberg sued over wrongful firing, there was no telling how much that would cost.

  Roger hopped around the stage. Bob pulled out a second bag of berries and went to town on them.

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Roger said, mulling it aloud as he worked out the particulars. “Until we find the investor and cut a repayment deal, we pretend we’re still doing the show. We’ll show up at rehearsal tomorrow and act as if everything is normal—normal being a relative word. In the meantime, I’ll read the contract… which might have been helpful to do in the first place.”

  “Is it in French?” Sassy asked. “Because if it is, I can help.”

  Roger’s laughed. “No, but thank you for the offer, my dear. You’re a very good witch.”

  Sassy was elated by the praise. She hopped back on her broom and whipped around the large hall. “No worries. If you get stuck, just let me know. I speak at least fifty-seven languages.”

  “Will do,” Roger replied.

  “Alrighty then,” I said, looking at each member of our little group. “Roger, read the contract. See if Mae Blockinschlokinberg is bluffing. Bob, cut back on the berries. The paint is starting to peel off the walls. I’m going to get the investor’s name from the cats then plead our case so no one has to wear cement shoes.”

  “We are going to find the cats and have a chat with the investor. I’m your partner in this venture,” Zach said, taking my hand in his.

  “And I’m your backup,” Zorro added, taking my other hand.

  “And I will fly you guys on my broom back to Zelda’s place,” Sassy said.

  “NO,” we all shouted in horror at the same time.

  “We’ll walk,” I said quickly. “I need the exercise after living in a tree for a month.”

  Sassy shrugged and saluted us. “Suit yourselves. I’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Well, that was certainly a shitshow,” Zorro said, walking with Zach and me down the road that led to Zelda and Mac’s house.