Wednesday, April 24, 2013

The Story Goes On...

The "tell a story day" two-week event continues! Part 23  is below, and you can begin, or catch up, at The Genre Underground.


He was known by many names, Claus, Kringle, Nick and more, but to Princess Zyx, he was and always would be, "Daddy..." at least, to his face.

 She found him beside his thinking glacier.With her red ukulele tucked under one arm and her faithful imp in tow, Princess Zyx marched over the snow to confront the jolliest of all elves. She used her new face to its full impact, whipped up the puppy-dog eyes and cleared her throat.


He grunted and turned reluctantly, a frown etched into his pudgy brow. He was off duty, and prone to less jolly moments since Mother had started serving gluten-free cookies. "Oh, so there you are."

She'd meant to pout, to whimper and use her powers of sweet and princess-y on him, but the red trickle oozing from the glacier wall completely distracted her from her task. "Is that blood?"

The Claus reached out one gloved finger and swiped at the dribble. He sniffed it and then, to her horror, tasted the stuff. "Tomato, I believe. There seems to be some trouble in Assembly."

"Mother warned you about outsourcing."

Santa waved his clean glove in a sweeping gesture and the glacier clarified into a transparent sheet of ice. Through it, they could see the mayhem transpiring on the Assembly floor. "Chaos. Completely unacceptable,  and don't think for one second that new face is going to work, young lady."

"But Daddy..." Zyx whined.

"I already signed the marriage contract, and look, here comes A.G. now."

Princess Zyx groaned. Burbleglax made a sympathetic sound and patted her on the arm. He had to stretch to do it, and it gave her little comfort despite the effort. She scowled at the General, at the abominable mash-up of orc, robot and fish marching through a sea of marinara and body parts. He was ghastly and...and...a little lax on the hygiene to boot.

"You see, Daddy? See? How can you possibly expect me to marry THAT?"

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