by RyFT Brand
needed was for that annoying sprite to get herself squashed, Parry would never forgive me.
I felt a strong hairy hand turn my head back around. Boss Geeter rested his long arm in his lap and flicked the burnt out stogie across the room. “Your turn.”
Moxie was pulling at my ropes again. The tiny fairy would never be strong enough to undo the knot, but her heart, if she had a heart, was in the right place. Then I felt her light on my shoulder. She started buzzing in my ear but I didn’t speak her language, if it was a language. The dope was going to get herself caught.
“Mickey,” Boss Geeter said.
Mickey raised his huge arm.
“No, no, wait,” I said, not sure how much more of the strong-arming I could take. I was still hurting from the fight with the Kriscrossa, I had hardly slept, and I hadn’t eaten a thing in two days.
Boss Geeter nodded approvingly. “So she’s not as dumb as I’d heard. So what business had you with the clowns?”
I was swatting at my ear with a shoulder as Moxie was still buzzing around and it was starting to tickle. That’s when I caught a thin line of smoke rising from a small pile of stacked boxes. I stopped shrugging and started tipping my head in the smoke’s direction. Moxie wasn’t very strong, but she was full of hot air and had a reputation for starting fires—big fires.
“What’s with this? Boss Geeter said imitating my head motion. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
Each time he tipped his ugly head I caught a glimpse of a holster inside his designer jacket. That’s a no-no; deferred species aren’t allowed to carry weaponry of any sort.
“Just that your big goon has my neck out of place, it hurts so bad I can’t think straight.”
“Mickey,” Boss Geeter said. “Straighten the girl out, would ya?”
Mickey walked around behind me.
“No!” I cried, half protecting myself and half protecting Moxie, who was usually too daft to know when to keep out of sight. “No wait!”
“Worry not,” the troll said brandishing a knowing smile. “Mickey’s good with his hands.”
Mickey set his hands to the side of my head; hands that I sensed could squish my skull like a grape. He worked my head side to side. I braced for the pain and wondered where that little fairy had gotten too. Then, with a loud crack, Mickey twisted my head sharply around.
I sucked in a sharp breath, then, with soothing relief, slowly let it out. I tipped my head, which felt much better, side to side. He dropped his hands to my shoulders and began to rub. “Ooo,” I cooed, closed my eyes and began to relax.
“Alright, alright, enough,” Boss Geeter snapped.
When Mickey came around his bushy-eyebrows were drooped with disappointment.
“Do you mind me asking what exactly he is?” I asked looking at Mickey, who looked down at his huge feet.
Boss Geeter smiled like a proud pet owner. “You mean old Mickey here? Why he’s a sasquach, that’s what.”
“A sasquach?” I repeated, staring at him in disbelief.
“Sure,” Geeter said. “He’s my very own big F’n Foot, the last of his race, or so I’m told.”
“Really,” I said, my disbelief alchemizing into curiosity. Then I saw Moxie hovering right beside Boss Geeter’s head. I tried not to look and draw attention to her. But when she turned around, lifted her skirt, and shook her chubby fairy ass right beside the troll’s head I nearly laughed. Man, she was weird.
Sensing her Boss Geeter waved his hand, shooing her away like a fly. “So tell me about Clowntown.”
I needed Moxie to understand, but despite her iridescent glow, she wasn’t very bright. “Where’s there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
“What?” Boss Geeter’s thick, troll brow wrinkled. Moxie covered her mouth and stifled a snicker that sent little particles of glowing dust flying.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m just pointing out that rising smoke is a sure sign that there could be a fire burning, fire that could be a dangerous distraction.”
“Grrrow!” Suddenly Boss Geeter cried out so loudly that I though my head would spilt in two. He leapt forward and landed in a crouch with a hand gripping my padded shirt tightly. “I’ve had enough of your wasting my time human!” He leaned in close to me, bearing a mouthful of sharp fangs. “You’d best start talking sense or I’m libel to loose my temper.”
“Hold still, Boss,” Mickey said taking a folded paper from his coat pocket. “You got a bug on you.” As he drew the paper back I spotted Moxie, glowing brightly, pulling at the hairs on the back of Boss Geeter’s head. She was raving mad and paying no mind to the weapon being drawn back.
“Look out!” I shouted. Moxie did, but just in time to catch the smack full on. She hurled across the room, leaving a little trail of glowing dust, hit the side wall and slid to the floor and out of sight.
“What are you doing?” Boss Geeter shouted and punched the sasquach in the chest; hit him hard but if it hurt at all he showed no sign of it.
Mickey shrugged and returned the paper to his pocket. “It was a bug, Boss.”
Boss Geeter eyed his goon a moment, and then looked back at me. “Speaking of bugs.”
“I crashed,” I said.
Boss Geeter’s big head bobbed. “You crashed?”
“Yeah.”
His hideous head wobbled on his neck. “So what?”
I sighed. I needed to forget the fairy and find a way out on my own. “I got into a firefight with a squadron of Cranks. I was shot down and crashed inside Clowntown. The only thing I was doing there was trying to get out.”
“Really,” he said, but I’m not sure if he was asking or mocking. “So the whole thing wasn’t a ruse to have a secret meet up with the Clowns?”
I stared into his eyes. “The only reason I ever meet up with monsters is to kill them, or hadn’t you heard?”
“I heard, and yet the Clowns that you did meet up with are very much alive, at least that’s what I heard.”
“Hey, Boss,” Mickey said. “You smell smoke?”
“Of course!” Boss Geeter shouted. “You reek of it because you smoke too much, now shad’up you idiot.”
Just then Bogg Geeter’s big nostrils flared and he drew in two sharp breaths. “Hold up a sec, I do smell smoke.” He turned and saw the flames spreading over the discarded cardboard. “Holy crud, look what you did you big goon. Now throw that bucket of water on it, hurry!”
Mickey shrugged. “I can’t. You had me toss the water on the girl to wake her up.”
Boss Geeter let loose a roar that set a ringing in my ears. “Well go get another one, and make if fast.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” Mickey scrambled into action. After some confused searching he found the empty bucket, then, his huge feet slapping the floor, ran out of sight squashing the tattered fedora to his head with a heavy hand.
The flames were spreading fast and smoke was filling the room. The cardboard was dry, probably dated too before the use of custom grown containers some eighty years ago.
Mickey strolled over to the fire, drawing a fresh cigar from a case in his inside jacket pocket. He shoved the stogie in his mouth, leaned into the flames, and got the thing lit. He brushed some burning embers from his brow, then, his big forehead wrinkling, he leaned down staring. Island trolls are pretty much fireproof. “Hey, what’s this?”
Oh crap.
Sure enough Moxie was flitting about the fire, blowing and encouraging the flames to spread. “Looks like we got ourselves a little infestation here,” Boss Geeter said then started taking wild swipes at my flower fairy.
Like I said, oh crap.
Moxie started dodging all around, leaving little sparkling trails of dust. She was staying one step ahead of the thrashing troll, but only just. Boss Geeter was stumbling over the boxes, cursing Moxie and his smoldering trousers.
“Hold still little firefly, you hold still,” he shouted.
Moxie was getting ahead of herself. She had such a temper. She was dodging the troll�
��s swipes, then zooming in and taunting him. She was getting lucky, but one thing I’d learned is that luck changes quickly.
But she was also distracting my captors. I had a chance and I was going to take it, Moxie was on her own.
With a good kick I tipped the chair over on its back. I started thrashing about, trying to get my leg up to my hand. I always kept a small switch knife in the laces of my boots, but the chair was proving to be a real obstacle.
“Got ya!” Boss Geeter cried out.
I looked up to see Moxie take a swat that slammed her to the floor. She glowed like a bright smudge, and then her light faded out. Then the troll stomped his foot down on the dart spot.
“No!” I shouted inadvertently.
“What the hell?” Boss Geeter said looking over at me. “What are you up to there?” He said just as a bucket of water splashed over him.
He stood with his hat brim drooping and his soaked stogie dangling from his hand. “You idiot!’ he shouted at Mickey, who still held the empty pail. “Look what ya did.”
“But Boss,” Mickey said. “Your foot’s on fire.”
“My foot ain’t on fire, I—” As Boss Geeter looked down he saw a bright glow coming from his filthy foot. “Aww, jeeze!” he shouted and hopped back. As soon as he did Moxie, glowing so brightly she looked like a tiny gold star, flew up from the ground and straight up Boss Geeter’s paint leg.
“Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!” he screamed, jumping up and down, shaking his legs and his gigantic posterior. His eyes were the size of saucers and his lower jaw was quivering so rapidly it had become a blur.
“What is it?” Mickey, hopping along
