"Clovis Clovis Clovis!"

A small mob of gremlins runs around the store, carrying my Devilbunny on their shoulders. I grab him as they make their third sweep around the counter.

"not the ears not the ears!"

"Clovis, where did the gremlins come from?" I ask in a reasonably patient manner.

"new minions. prezzie for cute bunny."

"Yes, but where did they come from?"

"front door?"

I sigh, then turn to glare at the gremlins. They stare back at me in a googley-eyed fashion. I point at the almost-but-not-quite person-sized antique bird cage in the corner of the shop, with the door conveniently (and 'accidentally') swinging open. The gremlins stop meeting my eyes and suddenly find their feet fascinating.

"In. The. Cage."

As one, the gremlins sigh, give Clovis a mournful look, and troop into the birdcage. The cage door slams shut behind them with a satisfying clang.

"my minions", Clovis informs me in a sulky tone.

"Not until we know where they came from. There's been all sorts of wierd things happening in the past few days, and I'm not letting you play with unidentified gremlins."

There's a roll of thunder, and a sudden rain of marzipan frogs. Which would be fine, but that sort of thing doesn't normally occur inside the store.

"candy! candy candy candy!" squeals Clovis, paws outstretched to catch anything he can.

I run over to the front door, lock it, and flip the sign to "Closed".

"Honey! I need to check the wards! Stay in the studio, and don't answer the phone, door, or any flaming messages on the walls!"

Pete sticks his head out from his studio. "What?! What are you talking about?"

He does a double-take at the drifts of marzipan frogs on the floor, says "Right. Don't answer flaming messages on the walls", and retreats to the relative sanity of his artwork.

(edited by DX to fix font tag)

I'm halfway through Harvorth's Memoirs of A Yeti Hunter when Hector interrupts me.

"Hey, boss. What's with the cat?"

"Cat?" I look down. I've apparently been absent-mindedly petting a grey cat for the past few minutes. It wrinkles its nose at me and meows.

"Skeletons? Can't be killed by normal means. Criminy." I put down the book just as the doorbell rings.

I pause before opening the door. It could be anyone, really. "Who is it?" I call.

There's a rattling and shuffling on the other side. "Uh...candygram."

"Oh. For me?" I reach for the doorknob, but Hector grabs my wrist.

"Boss, 'candygram' is the oldest...and stupidest...trick in the book."

"Which book?"

Hector rolls his eyes. Then he clears his throat and speaks through the door. "I don't believe you," he calls out.

There's more rattling. "Uh...Land Shark."

"Curiouser and curiouser," I mutter.

Hector peeks through the peephole. "It's a bunch of skeletons."

"Are you sure?"

"Either that or it's a bunch of reps for the SuperDuper Atkins Diet."

I take a look. "No, I think they're skeletons."

"What do we do?"

Hm. The cat said that they couldn't be killed by normal means. Let's try...

A blood-curdling incantation later, Hector's peering through the peephole. His eyes go wide.

"Jell-O?"

"Lime Jell-O. With little bits of pear and banana stuck in."

"You're weird boss."

"Did it work?"

"Well...they're Jell-O, all right. But, uh..."

Just then a skeletal-shaped hand of green gelatin (with little bits of pear and banana stuck in) gropes under the door.

"Aw, fuck," I say.

(tagclosity)

I run as fast as I can, not daring to look behind. Knuts steps are a steady, swift boom behind me. I also hear noisy crunching, but I can't stop to ask questions. Ten minutes should be enough to get us to Miracleman, assuming nothing screws up, which is something I try never to assume.

We round the corner, barely keeping on our feet. Half a block more, and we're home free. I feel a momentary glow of smugness. Working out has really paid off.

Except, of course, for the rather obvious minions of the damned jiggling all over the path between us and Miracleman's door.

I glance at Knut. "Ideas?"

He barely pauses before striding over to the nearest thing, grabbing it bodily and stuffing it down his mouth. It goes down in a single slurp.

"Jesus, Knut!"

"They're jello. Not bad." He grabs another, and another.

Jello? Fuck! I can't eat jello, it would kill my blood sugar levels. Besides, I never liked the stuff. I pull a handful of powdery spheres from my pack, and fling them to the pavement.

The Instagolem rise, ready for instruction.

"Eat those jello guys, whole! No chewing!"

The great thing about Instagolem is that they never look at you funny, no matter what inane blathering come out of your mouth.

Bloody Unicorn horn in hand, Deimos start the trek back to the lair. I have Deimos review the procedure as we walk along. Every once and while a bystander casts a curious glance at the horn, or maybe they just like my cape.

"Boss, it says the horn needs to be dipped in the lifeblood of a living sentient creature as they draw their last breath before use." Says Deimos as he continues his analysis.

I stab a passerby in the heart, pausing long enough for him or her to die off. "Good of you to mention that before we got back." This seems to have elicited a reaction from some of my fellow pedestrians so I summon a few hell hounds to keep them busy and out of my way.

"Anything else we don't have in the lair?"

"Nope, we're good boss."

"Excellent, then let us not delay." I summon up a horse, well sort of a horse. It's huge, black, horse-shaped thing that snorts flames, leaves burning prints as it's hooves wound the earth with every step, and just generally give everyone evil looks with it's beady little red eyes. I mount the beast and help Deimos up and the beast swiftly takes us back to the lair to start the ritual.

On my way home from school, I pass a morose-looking Ringwraith. He's noticeably horseless.

"Hey, don't you guys usually have, you know, mounts as black as night whose hoofbeats make the very earth tremble?"

He nods. I didn't know it was possible for someone with no visible face to look so gloomy.

"You piss off Sauron, or did some new Big Bad take it?"

He hold up two skeletal fingers. Damn. Better go warn the proper authorities.

"Okay, then. Good luck finding the Ring, dude."

He shrugs, give me a thumbs-up sign, and heads on down the sidewalk. I continue in the opposite direction.

note: I'll have class most of tomorrow, so feel free to write me in wherever you see fit until I get back.

The thundering stops and is replaced by a silence more deafening. Smoke rises from where the great beast's hooves rest on the ground.

Made for motion and not for posing, it shifts its weight impatiently from leg to leg. The wizard is astride him, frowning, and a minion clasps tightly to maintain balance.

He frowns at me. They both do.

"Where do you want to start?" I ask.

"I fear I'm busy at the moment."

I raise my hand and a blinding sliver of light appears. Out of the sliver steps a demon. Not a very imposing looking demon. Not even a very demony looking demon, appearing rather like a slightly too-slender bald man with eyes slightly too large. If not for the fangs, forked tongue, and demonic tattoos, it could easily pass for a human.

The demon draws two hilts from it's belt and they grow blades so dark that the light simply collaspes around them. It advances towards the warrior, limbs flowing as if the bones were liquid.

"Have fun warrior." I will the stead foward and the landscape accelerates to a blur. I am too close to waste time with any more distractions.

The balance needed to be tilted towards the dark, but the wizard refuses my help.

As blade meets blade meets blade, the part of my brain unconcerned with fighting for my life pokes at the fabric of Blood to see how it shifts.

The demon's swords spin and crash towards me again. It's taut. I duck one and block the other, grimacing as the shock reverberates up my arm. But how taut? I dart aside, spin behind, and slide a blade between his ribs. Maybe the wizard can win on his own. The demon's not hurt, but being impaled is what's important -- now I can slice its head off from behind.

There's a pop, a sizzle, and an extremely noxious spell as the body falls apart around my longer blade.

Well, if I'm not going to aid evil, the least I can do is have a really long hot shower.

The wolf looks up at me.

"What? You heard him!"

"No, no he can't do it on his own. But I don't have to care precisely exactly right now, do I? Thank you."

Jasmine, I'm thinking.