Lloyd might have kept
himself busy at the moment, but he didn’t dare ignore the footsteps echoing
down the hall. He craned his neck toward
it, and his hopes -- for once -- weren’t dashed; Trixie lurched out of the hall
with a yawn, stretching her arms and limbering up her back as sexily as
possible. She pressed a hand against the
wall for leverage, and for a second Lloyd almost felt the need to do the same. “Ugh…hey, pal, I ain’t about to start whinin’
about yer hospitality, but I’m thinkin’ maybe that bed o’ yers ain’t right fer
me. Too classy an’ all.”
“Ah, my apologies, Miss
Walters,” said Lloyd. “I’ll keep your
preferences in mind for tonight. Though
I wonder just what I can do about it outside of offering a new mattress.”
“Don’t stress out over
it. I’ll just…” Trixie rubbed her eyes. Lloyd would have loved to to
hand her a plate of pancakes. Instead,
the most he could offer was a full view of the prince held at gunpoint.
Trixie stared at Lloyd. She didn’t know if it was because of her
morning grogginess or Lloyd’s too-early-for-this optimism, but she started to
feel a headache coming on. “…Yeah,
sorry, pal,” she said at last. “Guess
I’m still sleepin’. See ya when I wake
up.”
“Pleasant dreams, Miss
Walters.”
“Okay, bye.” Trixie waved at him and headed back down the
hall.
Lloyd giggled to
himself and resumed his work. “Well now,
that was an interesting way to start a morning!
And my, oh my -- such fascinating bed
hair! Ah, do the wonders of the fairer
sex never cease?” He ran his fingers
over and around some particularly gnarly feet -- and suddenly, maintaining his
cheer became ten times harder.
“Hmmm. Perhaps they do.”
Mrs. Overdose prodded
Lloyd in the head with her shotgun. “If
I wanted your sass, I’m pretty sure I’d ask for it,” she snapped. She leaned back in the chair -- one several
sizes too large for the average man, let alone a penguin-bodied woman -- and
swished a reed around her mouth. “Then
again, can’t say there’s anyone out there who’d want some sass.”
“Not necessarily,” said
Lloyd. “I would think that there is
indeed a market for sass enthusiasts.
Much in the same way I’m a cantaloupe aficionado, there are those out
there, I’d wager, who can’t go a day without a healthy helping of sass!”
For a moment Lloyd
could have sworn he saw wrinkles starting to form on Mrs. Overdose’s face. “It’s too early for this crap,” she muttered.
And then Trixie rushed
back into the den. “Wh-what the hell is
goin’ on here, pal!” she yelled.
“Way too early for this crap,” said Mrs. Overdose.
Trixie pointed at the
purple-haired loon, and then the bramble-haired gunwoman. “What is this?! Lloyd, don’t tell me she’s got ya doin’ her
dirty work! And you! That any way to treat yer host, lady? Ya oughta be ashamed o’ yerself!”
Mrs. Overdose raised an
eyebrow, but beyond that hardly showed a reaction. “You know, you’re right. I SHOULD be ashamed…but I’m not. I’m really not. I know, I know, I’m a terrible person.”
“Perish the thought,
milady!” Lloyd blurted. “Then again,
doing otherwise may lead to you making a mess of the Hoigleheimer den, and we
can’t have that. I imagine my father
would be quite cross with you.”
“Lloyd, get off yer
knees and stop rubbin’ her feet! What
are ya, some kinda errand boy? A-and
you! Take that gun offa his head, or
I’ll come on over there and give ya a taste of some good ol’ Rockwood
rasslin’!”
Mrs. Overdose stared at
Trixie, and she stared back with a heated glare. But before either could come to blows or
bullets, Mrs. Overdose jerked her head aside and snorted. “Pfft.
She actually said ‘rasslin’’.”
“Stop makin’ fun o’ my
accent!”
“Stop makin’ it so
easy.”
Trixie ground her
teeth. “So what’s this all about,
anyway? Gonna shoot Lloyd if he doesn’t
rub yer feet? Don’t ya think that’s
goin’ a little overboard?”
“Oh, I hardly think
so,” said Lloyd; he’d raised a hand, but the sudden thrusting of gun metal into
his skull made him slap his hand back down on her feet…her rugged, rugged
feet. “I agreed to offer Lady Overdose
my services in massaging her…her…these…and
she was quick to remind me of our arrangement this morning. And frankly, I’m glad I did; it would be
outright foppish of me to progress to
another task before handling one binding me to my fair lady.”
“This is what you call
a fair lady?” Trixie asked. “Would ya
just look at her? She don’t even look
like she’s enjoyin’ it!”
“No, no, that’s not
quite true.” Lloyd gestured with his
head toward her mouth. “See? She’s smiling.”
“No she ain’t! She’s just doin’ that scowl o’ hers!”
“Look a bit
closer. It’s subtle, yes, but it’s
there. See?”
Trixie came a few steps
closer, and bowed forward to have a better look. “I still don’t see a thing.”
“No, it’s there. Weak though my vision may be, in this
instance my eyes do not deceive me.”
“Yer just lookin’ for
any reason to stop thinkin’ about those feet o’ hers, pal.” Even so, Trixie stepped forward again, and
leaned in toward Mrs. Overdose. “Lloyd,
there’s nothin’ there! I’m lookin’ right
at her!”
“Closer still, Miss
Walters.”
“What, is it
microscopic?” Nevertheless, she leaned
in closer -- and of course, saw nothing.
“Does she even know how to smile?
‘Cause I’m startin’ to have my doubts.”
She leaned in even closer, almost as if going for a kiss, and --
Ka-NO ROMANCE HERE!
Mrs. Overdose walloped
Trixie with her shotgun and sent her tumbling.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to get in someone’s personal bubble?”
she asked, her face unchanged.
“Jeez. What do they teach you
kids in Rockwood? Hogtying and
moonshine-chugging?”
Trixie climbed to her
feet and rubbed her face. “Ya never told
me nothin’ about a personal bubble! Yer
brain workin’ right, old lady?”
“It sure is. But look at you, all flustered and confused
-- maybe we should go right back to the drawing board. See, there’s this thing that we smart people
call a ‘bubble’. It’s like a ball that
you can see through…oh wait, you know what a ball is, right?”
Trixie nearly ground
her teeth into dust. But rather than
press (or get heckled by) Mrs. Overdose any longer, she turned to Lloyd. “Hey!
Ya just gonna let her talk to me like that? And ya just gonna let her bully ya into
rubbin’ her feet? Come on, pal -- yer a
man! And this is yer house! Grow a spine, will ya?”
Lloyd looked back at
her -- with a smile on his face, but a weary one; the glimmer in his eyes had
vanished, as if they’d been replaced with a pair of dull rocks. “I’m quite all right, Miss Walters,” he said
in a mechanical tone. “Quite all
right. I’m fine. Just rubbing feet. I’m fine.
Just rubbing feet.”
“Holy…Lloyd, get away
from her feet! Those things’re suckin’
out yer soul or somethin’!”
“But Miss Walters, I
must rub her feet. I’m fine. Just rubbing feet. Rubbing feet is fine. Rubbing feet is fine. Rubbing feet is fine. Rubbing feet is fine. Rubbing feet is fine. Rubbing feet is --”
Trixie tugged Lloyd
away, and very nearly flung him into the far wall. She didn’t, thankfully, but he did stumble
and slam his head into an ironically-hung painting of a sledgehammer.
“Ow! Oh -- oh, wow.” He shook his head, and his eyes went back to
their usual luster. “What? Where am I?
The last thing I remember was rubbing feet, and suddenly it felt like
there was no more reason for me to live.
Except to rub feet.” He scratched
at his crown, and then set the painting back up on its hook. “It would seem you and I both could use a few
more visits from Mr. Sandman, Miss Walters.
Lady Overdose, how are you faring?”
Mrs. Overdose inspected
her feet and sighed. “Guess that’ll do
for now. We’ll pick this up later.” She crammed her feet into a pair of browning
shoes, and slid out of the chair.
“So. What’s the plan for today?”
“Eh? You mean you’ve chosen to follow my lead?”
The gunwoman
shrugged. “Can’t think of anything else
to do with my Tuesday.”
“That’s good enough for
me!” Lloyd said with a pump of his fists.
“And it’s quite a good thing, too; for you see, in the wake of my
foot-rubbing -- and some interstice of time that remains missing from my memory
for some reason -- I may have come up with a strategy that can give us an
advantage against the fiendish Gaston Leroux.”
“Gaston Leroux,” Trixie
repeated. She hadn’t forgotten about
that masked freak, and she wasn’t about to anytime soon -- especially now that
he knew where the five of them were staying.
Lloyd stroked his
chin. “I’ve put a bit of thought into
our next move -- and while the long-term goal is fairly obvious, the issue is
going to be the short-term steps taken to reach it.” He looked at Trixie and Mrs. Overdose in
turn, and then held out his hand. “It
was this power of mine that affected your hearts, and helped you come over to
my side. That much is clear enough,
though there are more than a few particulars that remain elusive.”
“Such as?” Mrs.
Overdose asked.
“Truth be told, I’m not
exactly certain what the full extent of this power is, or its effect on either
of you.”
Trixie reeled. “So wait a sec -- yer sayin’ that ya screwed
around with our heads, and ya don’t even know exactly what it does? What if ya broke somethin’ in there?”
“That’d explain a lot
in your case, Colonel Sanders,” said Mrs. Overdose.
Trixie nearly socked
Mrs. Overdose, but Lloyd held up a hand.
“It’s true that I don’t know the full extent, but I would think that
there’s enough evidence to assume there’s no harm done. My power, I’d wager, is to boost your esteem. Bolstering your well-being and zeal for your
benefit far more than my own. That much
should make itself clear soon, if it hasn’t already. That said, it may be time for me to apologize
-- and in doing so, you’ll understand our next course of action.”
He turned to
Trixie. “Miss Walters. You were the first one I used my power on,
and the first one I managed to raise to a four-star level. I’m glad that I had the opportunity, but
looking back -- considering those that followed you…” He looked to Mrs. Overdose for a moment. “I suspect that the events that played out
within you were a stroke of good fortune, and nothing more. Had I encountered milady first, I doubt I
would be so eager.”
“S-so wait a sec. Yer sayin’ that when ya did -- well, whatever
ya did to me --”
“Yes, that’s
right. I faced off with three trials
unique to three individuals, and couldn’t even begin another with a
fourth. Given that, I’d say that what
happened between you and I was based on dumb luck.”
Trixie’s shoulders
slumped. “I’m startin’ to think the
universe hates me, pal…”
“Think nothing of it. It was good fortune that brought us together,
and showed me what I could do. It’s hard
to say exactly what separates you from, say, Lady Overdose, but if I had to
guess I would say it’s a matter of your natures. Perhaps by default you’re more willing to
cooperate and trust, and considerably more fluid in your character. So it follows that you were more willing to
trust me, and as a result be more easily affected.”
“So it worked with her
because she’s an idiot?” Mrs. Overdose asked.
“I can buy that.”
“What the -- Lloyd,
don’t let her get away with --!”
Lloyd stroked his chin
and nodded. “Perhaps so,” he said calmly
(and Trixie considered dropping to all fours).
“But if that’s the case, then it would certainly explain why your
abrasiveness put me through my greatest trial yet. I’d prefer not to think about what would have
happened if I’d made even one more misstep…but again, I would assume that my
victory there came down to dumb luck.”
Mrs. Overdose swished
her reed around her mouth. “So wingin’
it worked twice, but that’s it. And two
out of five’s not the best record.”
“True. Which is exactly why I intend to take steps
toward improving my record.” He started
for the door. “My brother and father
have gone on their own mission this morning; if we’re to succeed and honor
their efforts, then we must do the same.
The time has come for us to venture onward, my comrades…or should I say,
my entourage.”
“Entourage?” Trixie
repeated. She pointed at Mrs. Overdose,
who immediately pointed back at her.
“You want me to work
with her?” Mrs. Overdose asked -- and Trixie looked about ready to ask the
same.
“Work with her, work
with me, it’s all the same at this point,” said Lloyd. He unlocked the door. “And I assume that things will work more
easily if I have the two of you around.
Things might get a bit tricky otherwise.”
“And where are we
headed, exactly?”
Lloyd looked back at
her and grinned. “We’re off to school!”
TO BE HEARTINUED…
No comments:
Post a Comment