HELL’S
NERDS
AND
OTHER
TALES
STEPHEN LOMER
Copyright © 2018 Port Nine Publishing
All rights reserved.
The events and characters presented
in this book are works of fiction.
Any similarity to persons or places living
or dead is purely coincidental and unintended.
No part of this work may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying and recording, or by any
information storage or retrieval system
without the proper written permission of the
appropriate copyright holder,
unless such copying is expressly permitted by
federal and international copyright law.
www.stephenlomer.com
DEDICATION
I would like to dedicate
Hell’s Nerds and Other Tales to
all the readers out there who
love and appreciate the short
story. Especially since I write
so very many of them.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
1. Hell’s Nerds
2. B.B. and Red
3. A Speedy Conclusion
4. Any Last Words
5. No Place Like Home
6. Maybe God Left Us Out of the Plans He Made
7. Defending the Wall
8. A Week Back
9. Jail Brake
10. Brains and Guts
11. Stone’s Throw
12. Little Ricky’s Night Out
13. Royal Flush
14. A Pound of Cure
15. Futurcation
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To everyone who enjoyed to these stories when they were originally the separate books B.B. and Red and Hell’s Nerds, a huge thank you for all your love and support.
I hope you come to love
Hell’s Nerds and Other Tales just as much.
1.
HELL’S NERDS
Herb’s basement looked very much like the basement in the house where he grew up, and with good reason. He’d gone to great lengths to re-create that space, much to his wife’s chagrin.
The wood paneling was the same dark color. The shag rug was the exact same shade of orange. He’d even been able to get his hands on the actual table that he and his close-knit group of friends had used for seemingly endless Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.
The table’s surface still bore the shadow of a dent that Willie’s fist had made when his enchanted armor had failed to protect him from the golem’s acid attack. It still showed the discoloration caused by Norbert’s famed Midsummer’s Grape Juice Spill. And the corner was still chipped from BooBoo’s maddening habit of picking at it during particularly intense campaigns.
Good times.
These days, he and the boys didn’t have as much time for D&D. Herb’s daughter Emma was graduating eighth grade and would be headed off to high school in the fall, meaning even more time-draining activities, social clubs, and whatnot. Norbert was busy with his law practice. Willie had kids of his own, and was coaching more teams than Herb could count, which was odd, considering how much Willie hated sports. And BooBoo . . . well, no one was really sure what BooBoo was up to, only that whatever it was, it kept him busy enough that he could only squeeze in one campaign a week, if he was lucky.
But this coming weekend was different.
The stars had all somehow aligned. Herb’s wife Kate was taking Emma away on a girls’ weekend up at the lake. Willie, Norbert, and BooBoo had all managed to clear their schedules, and the four of them would be embarking on an epic, weekend-long quest that would mean lots of Red Bull and the kind of stamina that none of them had known in years.
Herb climbed down the wooden stairs and admired the way the antique light lit up the surface of the table. He placed brand-new clipboards with freshly printed character sheets as thoughtfully and carefully as his mother had put out place settings for Thanksgiving. On a bookshelf next to the far wall, sitting between Herb’s prized mint-condition Millennium Falcon and his award for first place in the fifth grade science fair, sat a brand-new lockbox. That’s where their cell phones would go for the weekend, and if anyone wanted to get their hands on theirs, they would be required to present their case to the others and abide by the group’s decision.
“Dad?” he heard his daughter’s voice call from upstairs.
“Down here,” he called back, and he heard the basement door open and saw Emma’s feet descend. She stared at the table for a moment, and then at her father with a small smirk.
“I should have known,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically.
“Yes, I imagine you should have,” Herb said, and then rushed toward her and scooped her into a hug and hoisted her off her feet. She squealed and he swung her around as he nuzzled his nose in her neck.
“Put me down!” she cried, laughing in spite of herself.
“What’s the magic word?” Herb asked, still holding her aloft.
“Please!” she said.
“That’s the polite word,” he said, and began to tickle her. “I need the magic word!”
She giggled helplessly. “Ab … abracadabra!” she was finally able to wheeze out.
Herb put her down. “Good job,” he said, mussing her hair. “FYI, I would have also accepted ‘hocus-pocus’ or ‘expelliarmus.’”
“I’ll remember that,” Emma said, straightening her hair.
“Are you and Mom almost ready to go?” Herb asked.
“I am,” Emma said, flopping down in the old plaid sofa next to the small, battered fridge. “But you know Mom. She takes forever.”
“Well go tell her to hurry up,” Herb said. “The Quest for the Black Cauldron starts exactly at noon, and I don’t need any women around killing the atmosphere.”
“The Quest for the Black Cauldron?” Emma said, intrigued.
“Yes, it’s going to be amazing,” Herb said, once again admiring the table like a general eyeing a battlefield. “But that’s just the appetizer.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to be dungeonmaster for this quest,” Herb said, the excitement written all over his face, “but then Dougie’s coming by to take over.”
Emma’s face lit up. “Dougie’s coming? I love Dougie!”
“Yes, I love him too, and it’s not all that often we can get him to serve as dungeonmaster,” Herb replied. “His campaigns are epic.”
“Dad?”
“Yes, honey?”
Emma looked unsure of herself. “Can I go on one of your quests sometime?”
Herb looked at his daughter and his heart swelled as though fit to burst. He flopped down on the sofa next to her and put his arm around her, then drew her close so he could whisper in her ear.
“Of course you can, sweetheart,” he said softly. “But don’t tell Mom, okay? She’ll think my lifestyle is having a bad influence on you.”
Emma snorted, and then nodded. “Okay, Dad. It’ll be our secret.”
“Good,” said Herb, standing up. “Now go on, tell your mother to get some grease in her garters. I’ve got to get into my nerd zone.”
Half an hour later, Herb stood in the driveway as his wife and daughter loaded the last of their gear into the minivan.
“You’ve got the number of the cabin, right?” Kate called, her top half in the backseat.
“I do,” Herb said.
“And you’ve got enough snacks and drinks for the boys, right?”
“I do.”
Kate pulled the van’s side door shut and took a long, assessing look at the front lawn and then the house.
“We really should get those gutters looked at,” she said distractedly.
“Honey,” Herb said.
Kate looked at him and smiled. “Okay, okay, we’re going. Now you have fun, you hear me? Emma and I will be back Sunday night.”
“Sunday night, got it. I’ll have all the geek cleared out by then.”
Kate gave him a long hug and kiss. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, honey. Have a good time.”
Kate made her way to the van and hopped into the driver’s seat. She started the engine.
“Hey! Emma!” Herb called.
Emma’s head popped out of the passenger side window.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Herb demanded. “Get back here and give me a hug and a kiss!”
Emma unbelted herself, flung the door open, and ran back to her father. She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a big, wet kiss on his cheek.
“I love you, Emma Bear,” Herb said.
Emma smiled. “I love you too, Daddy.”
She ran back to the van and hoisted herself in. Kate gave a wave out the window and pulled the car out into the street. As they pulled away, Herb could see Emma’s tiny form waving frantically from her window. Herb smiled and waved back.
A few hours later, Herb was seated in the dungeonmaster’s spot at the table. To his left, as he always had, sat BooBoo. To his right, Willie. And across the table, Norbert. Spread on the shag carpet, outside the pool of light cast upon the table, were sleeping bags.
“Gentlemen,” Herb said, raising a glass of Coke to his comrades, “to a weekend that will, without question, have songs and poems written about it for eons to come.”
Willie, Norbert, and BooBoo raised their glasses as well.
“And to the fact that Norbert no longer drinks grape juice, nor spills it on our beloved table,” Willie said, smiling.
“You ever gonna let me live that down?” Norbert asked, his glass still raised.
“Let me think,” Willie said, cocking his head and looking up toward the drop ceiling. “Mmm. No.”
Everyone but Norbert drank. “It’s been thirty years,” he said.
Willie put down his glass. “Okay, tell you what,” he offered. “If we’re all still alive thirty years from now, I’ll let you live it down then. How’s that?”
“Best offer I’ll get,” Norbert replied, and took a long sip of his drink. As he moved the glass back to the table’s surface, he caught his elbow, and spilled some of his drink. Herb, BooBoo, and Willie howled with laughter.
“Dude,” BooBoo choked out, “you couldn’t have planned that any better.”
Norbert grabbed a roll of paper towels from under the table and sopped up his spill. “Come on,” he said irritably. “Are we going on a quest or what?”
“Oh, you’re going on a quest, all right,” Herb smiled. “Just wait until you see what I’ve cooked up for you guys.”
BooBoo raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Oh yes,” Herb said dramatically, leaning in over the table. “What an adventure you have in store for you. Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Revenge. Giants. Monsters. Chases. Escapes. True love. Miracles.”
“That’s from The Princess Bride,” Willie said, unimpressed.
“So?” Herb asked defensively. “Maybe I based this quest on The Princess Bride. Did you ever think of that?”
“Did you base this quest on The Princess Bride?” asked Norbert.
Herb was quiet for a few moments. “No,” he said at last.
“Too bad,” Norbert said. “I love that movie.”
“Just get your character sheets filled out,” Herb said. “We’ve got a lot to get to.”
“I know what character I’m going to be,” BooBoo said, smiling.
“Paladin,” the other three said together.
“How did you know that?”
“Boo, you say the exact same thing every time we play D&D,” Willie explained patiently. “You’ve said exactly the same thing before every quest since we were nine years old.”
“Fine then,” BooBoo said. “Maybe I’ll do something different for a change.”
“Like what?” asked Herb.
“Maybe I’ll be a —”
“Warrior,” the other three chorused.
BooBoo looked around the table, bewildered. “How did you know that?”
“Because that’s the other thing you say before every quest,” Willie explained. “You get annoyed that we know you’re going to say paladin, so then you say warrior.”
“I do?” BooBoo said, perplexed.
“You do,” Willie replied. “Boo, you’ve got to have the worst memory of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah, well, there’s one thing I remember very clearly,” BooBoo said with a grin.
“Yeah?” asked Willie. “What’s that?”
“Yo momma sitting on my face last night,” BooBoo answered, and the room once again filled with laughter.
“All right,” Herb said with relish, “your group is standing before a glowing green door with no handles and no lock. There are no other ways forward. What do you do?”
“Wait a minute, hang on,” Norbert said, rifling through his notes. “We found this door three hours ago. In the Temple of Mithra.”
“That was a different glowing green door with no handles and no lock,” Herb said defensively.
“What did we do last time?” BooBoo asked Norbert.
Norbert consulted his notes. “My mage cast a spell of disapparition and it vanished.”
“Do that, then,” Willie said, unwrapping a Twinkie and taking a huge bite.
“I just want to know why we’re encountering the same door as before,” Norbert said. “I thought this was an epic, grand adventure you created.”
“It is!” Herb said. “And there’s a reason why you’ve found the same type of door. You just don’t know it yet.”
“Fine,” Norbert said. “My mage casts a spell of disapparition on the door.”
Herb grabbed a handful of multi-sided dice and rolled them. He studied the result.
“The spell has no effect,” he said.
“That doesn’t make any sense!” Norbert said. “It worked last time!”
“And I told you this is a different door,” Herb said patiently. “So maybe you should try something different.”
“All right,” BooBoo said. “My paladin approaches the treasure chest and strikes it with the Hammer of the Gods.”
The others shook their heads, grinning.
“What?” asked BooBoo.
“You don’t have a paladin, you have a warrior. Remember?” said Willie.
“Oh yeah. Right,” said BooBoo.
“And you don’t have the Hammer of the Gods, you have the Mace of Wisdom,” said Herb.
“Oh yeah. Right,” said BooBoo.
“And we’re trying to open a door, not a treasure chest,” said Norbert.
“We are?” asked BooBoo.
“We are,” said Norbert.
“Then why doesn’t your mage cast a spell of disapparition?” asked BooBoo.
“I just tried that,” Norbert said. “It didn’t work. Pay attention, Boo, will you?”
“Sorry,” BooBoo said. “Um . . . hey, I have an invisibility potion. I can throw it at the door. At least we can see what’s on the other side.”
“Wow,” Willie said. “That’s a really good idea. Nice work, Boo.”
BooBoo smiled as Herb gathered up the dice and rolled them again. He studied the results.
“The door becomes invisible and you can see past it,” Herb said. “On the other side there is a glowing chamber, and seated on a throne of skulls is a beautiful woman.”
“Speaking of beautiful women,” Willie said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms up over his head, “I ran into Kate and Emma at the super
market last weekend. I couldn’t believe how pretty little Emma was.”
Herb beamed. “Why thank you.”
“Oh, you didn’t have anything to do with that,” Willie scoffed. “Look at you. You’re bald. Pasty. A big hooked nose. Glasses. No, Emma got the looks from Kate’s side of the family.”
“Excuse me,” Herb said, “but you’ve known me since I was five years old.” He turned to Norbert and BooBoo. “You all have. You know I was an adorable kid.”
Norbert pondered for a moment. “I don’t know if I’d say adorable, necessarily. You were certainly cuter than you are now.”
“I’ll take that as a terrible, backhanded compliment.” He turned to BooBoo.
“Oh, don’t look at me,” BooBoo said. “The only thing I remember from those days is Greg Keenum.”
There was an abrupt change in the room’s atmosphere. Herb, Willie, and Norbert stiffened at the sound of the name, but BooBoo, staring blankly at the map in the middle of the table, didn’t notice.
“I remember the day that Herb came to school with that dragon patch on his book bag,” BooBoo said, lost in thought. “The one his mother had stayed up all night sewing on for him. He was so proud of that patch, showed it to everybody. And then Greg Keenum saw it and said, ‘What’s that gay thing supposed to be?’ And Herb said, ‘A dragon.’ And Keenum said, ‘You want a dragon? I’ll give you a dragon.’ And then he grabbed Herb by the waistband of his underpants and dragged him all the way across the schoolyard.”
BooBoo lapsed into a contemplative silence, and the tension in the room was palpable.
“And yet you can’t even remember if you’re a goddamned paladin or a goddamned warrior,” Willie said, and the spell of BooBoo’s words was broken with renewed laughter.
A few hours later, as the quest continued through the Forest of Consternation, the door at the top of the stairs flew open with a resounding crash, making them all jump.
“Who goes?” Herb called up the stairs.
“’Tis I, the Lord of Darkness and Light, the Death-Bringer, the Annihilator of Worlds, the Sword in the Golden Glove, and the Pronouncer of Ultimate Doom!” a voice bellowed back.
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