Having cursed my nemisis and delivered my first campaign speech on the burned out remains of Krispy Kreme, I return to my lair only to be informed that I need to work on preparing for reporters. Running for Mayor is turning out to be more work than I had anticipated.

A demon dressed up to resemble a reporter pokes a metal stick in my direction and speaks. "What are your plans for addressing the cit...."

I draw my sword and messily cut him in two.

My campaign consultant wipes some blue ichor from his face. "Okay. I think we might want to handle the questions with less evisceration."

"He annoyed me."

"It's what reporters do, but killing them projects the wrong image. We're going for a kinder Aeshma in the election." He waves forward another volunteer to ask a question.

A short demon picks up the metal stick and asks a question. "What are your plans in regard to the budget shortfall for road repair?"

I remember my consultant's advice and stay my sword hand. "I am committed to providing the best possible economic climate possible and infrastructure is an important component in that plan."

"Good answer." Comments the short demon.

"Of course it's a good answer. I am Aeshma." I messily lop off his head.

"Better." Comments my consultant.

"Hey boss, the first batch is in." Says Deimos as he brings in a box.

I open the box and inspect the bumper stickers. They all have a rather nice picture of me and the slogan, 'A vote for Aeshma is a vote for a new future.'

"Good work Deimos."

"This is nothing boss. We've got yard signs, buttons, hats, pamplets and everything."

"Excellent, I'll summon a horde of skeletons to distribute them."

My campaign consultant coughs. "Um. The image thing."

"Fine. Freshly dead zombies then." I give my consultant a glare daring him to question this perfect solution.

"Good enough." Says my consultant.

I don't know who this Aeshma is, other than the source of our current woe, but there's a flyer with his face on it on my car and a bunch of brochures in my mailbox. This means war.

I'm thinking I should have stayed on the couch. I bet I could take Snidely in a fight. Doubt he could even throw a roundhouse kick with that stick up his ass.

It's damn cold, and dark, and we're not moving.

I clear my throat. "Hey, dudes? If we're going somewhere, we'd better go."

"Right," says Dudley. "And where are we going?"

I shrug. "You're the leader."

"He is not!"

"Perhaps not, but you certainly are not either."

There's a ringing in the air and a coldness cuts across my chest. I reach up and find a rip in my shirt which extends beneath into my skin. If I was still flesh and blood the one would be spilling out of the other.

"Whoa. Ow. Dudes, I think something just tried to eviscerate me."

"From the sound of your voice I'm guessing it failed," says Snidely. "How disappointing."

"All right, Knuts," says Penny. "No more arguing. SquareKnut WhitePants, start walking. Everybody stay together."

Stumbling half-sideways, half-backwards through the dark with a slash in my chest is kind of trippy. My ears are ringing. Or is it the dark?

Let me think ... get the Save a Tree people on the case for all the non-recycled paper that got used in those mailers ... the environmental people on line for all that toxic ink that went into the printing ... plus--I stiffen my nerve--I bet the League of Women/Men/Whatever Voters would love to take a look at the truth in campaigning angle.

"The name is Penny, buttmunch."

Unfortunately, my very restrained admonishment to the Rock in Black comes out all weird. I realize I sound like the little prophet guy in Twin Peaks. Why is it that when directors try to get all auteur-y, they use little people? I hate that.

Speaking of tiny creatures, Edward is not keeping up.

"Get into my jacket pocket. You'll be safe there," I whisper.

no! no pocket! no curses!

"I'm not going to curse you, but I might step on your accidentally, so just do it!"

The bear complies, and I can feel him trembling against my side. I'm pretty scared too. Just to makes the situation truly suck like the mighty wind, Slacker!Knut is bitching about something trying to cut him to pieces. I have to do something.

"These monsters, they're like living glass shards?"

I feel all three Knuts shrug as they try to synchronize their steps.

"Maybe if we could catch one."

BlackPants explodes. "Catch one? What have you been substituting for oxygen lately, You stupid prat. 'Catch me a monster so I can look at it, pretty please.' Why don't we just distract the bastards with you and the bear?"

no! no! edward isn't for slicing!

"Thou shall touch neither Penny nor, um, the small bear!!" WhitePantsKnut has a wonderful booming voice, but where did he pick up that diction? Still, nice to know that my Knut's basic decency is still around.

"It's okay, nobody's going to touch me. You need me, because I have powers that you don't. Besides, I have an idea."

It would have been more accurate to say I have a really half-assed idea, but I don't want to look half-assed in front of BlackPants. My underwear situation is bad enough, although I'm glad I wore a matching set today.

It occured to me that curses won't work here, this being mirror land and all, but something else might. I create a vivid mental picture and focus for all I'm worth. Then I wait.

Not for long, however.

"Dude! It cut me again. Wrecked my only shirt, too."

Aha!

"Hey, Shard Monster, why don't you take a load off and stick around for a while."

I feel the surge of power, but I can't see what's happening. It feels good, but somehow a bit off.

"PlaidKnut, what's going on?"

"PlaidKnut, what's going on?"

I consider the question. "Um, the inside of my chest is starting to look like a geological strata. Or it would if I could see it. Oh, and there's a monster in front of me. I can hear him breathing. He sounds like windchimes. Really sharp windchimes, with a bad attitude."

"Kill it!" Snidely says.

"No, don't!" Penny says, which is good, 'cause I don't know how to kill these particular monsters. Maybe a big broom or something.

"Don't kill it." She's repeating herself. Could be hypothermia. I'm feeling a bit woozy myself. What I wouldn't give for a microwave burrito and a two-liter of Barq's right now. "Capture it," she says.

"OK." I lunge in the dark and manage to grab the monster by its neck. The palm of my hand is shredded.

"Ow. I mean, I've got it. What now?"

"Whatever you're working on, do it fast," says Snidely. "I think they're massing for an attack. I can hear them whispering."

"If they attack, we will fight them," says Dudley.

"How? I can't even see to snark at them in this dark."

Man, these two are useless.

Oh no. I'm in curse-girl's pocket, I'm about to be shredded by bits of living glass and the leather pants men (and why aren't they showing thier underwear?) are snarking at each other.

Consider your options, Edward. And, girl, do it fast.

1) I could jump out of this pocket and run away.

Problem: I'd be shredded.

2) I could stay here, quietly, and hope they don't notice me under shreds-of-Penny.

Problem: I'm already screaming. They know I'm here.

3) I could stay here and scream like a girl.

I'm wearing a skirt, anyway (though it does still seem to be over my underwear. Perhaps the transvestive thing fooled the mirror?). I scream louder.

"Guys, I suspect, it's just an idea, that these mirror things are a way out of here, because they're mirrors, right?" Cripes. I think tension and cold are cutting off circulation to my brain. "I want get one, or maybe more to keep still on the ground. Yeah. Also, if you caught the thing, maybe that means that my pleasant suggestions in this world act like curses in the other one. That was my theory."

Did that make any sense at all? I'm not sure. I feel dizzy and claustrophobic, and the damned bear is screaming like a tea kettle.

"So curse them! Suggest them! Whatever! Just do it before I feel the need for a human shield." BlackPants is getting really tense. He seems to have absorbed most of the brains of the group, though. What is it about evil boosting the IQ? Where have I heard that?

"Hey, Mirror Guys," I begin in my most soothing voice. "Why don't you take a load off. Stick around a while. Relax... just... relax... relax..."

I clamp a hand over edward to cork his screaming. It becomes very quiet. Too quiet? I risk a whisper. "Is it working?"

I check the flyers choking the mail box.

"A Vote for Aeshma is a vote for change? Vote early, vote often?" Huh. "Hey, honey, there's some sort of a vote going on. Is this an election year or is it another poll to decide how Jilli should have her bangs cut?"

I ignore the little bear's screaming and the erosion of my chest and the stone cold and listen.

"I don't hear anything."

"You could be a little more aggressive with the cursing," says Snidely. "Try get lost. Drop dead. Go to hell."

"An you please, fair inhabitants of the mirror dimension, molest us not in our passage through your fair realm," suggests Dudley the Do-Gooder. "Stand aside and let us pass!"

"who talks like that?" asks Edward.

"I don't know, babe," I whisper.

"I'll handle the cursing," says Penny. "You guys just keep walking!"

We keep walking. It's horribly cold, and my insides become my outsides become my upside-downsides. I miss my couch.

And suddenly, light blinds me. I cover my eyes and lower my head, blinking to readjust. "What happened? Where are we?"

"A hall of mirrors," says one of us, I'm not sure which. "Does this mean we're out?"

"I don't know," I say. "I've never been here."

"I can't see," says Penny.

"Me neither." Something brushes against my leg. I lean down to pick it up--it's some sort of paper. I squint at it. It looks like an election flyer. "Vote for Aeshma!" with lots of bullets for dicatorial experience and something about rounding up the opposition.

"Dudes, is it an election year?"