I’m sure as a child you heard one of the many versions of “Little Red Riding Hood” that circulate the globe. While most of them do introduce three true characters in that event—a girl cloaked in red, a nefarious wolf, and a sick grandmother—none of the tales you’ve heard include me.
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I have never lived through a wilder time than the summer when the guys of Mount Rushmore—George, Abe, Tommy, and Teddy—decided to form a boy band. I worked in the visitor center, and as far as any of us knew, the boys had never heard pop music. Yet one night Abe started belting out
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“Daggum scientists!” Penny growled. Hefting her skirts higher, she tore through the brome toward a cluster of cottonwoods. A raspy roar echoed across the open plain, and she glared back at said scientist. “You just had to poke the Prairie Dragon!”
“Actually, dragon is a misnomer,” Benjamin huffed, struggling to keep up.
Most people believe rainbows are formed by light refracting through water droplets. They’re wrong. Rainbows are ingenious GPS trackers developed by leprechauns to locate hidden treasures.
It’s time to test my newest invention and prove my hypothesis.
Astride my Harley chopper, I peer through misty rain, scanning the sky for rainbows.
“Our treasury’s woes are over.” King Norbert sauntered into the imperial guest suite. “I just beat the emperor at chess.”
Queen Constance looked up from her official ledger. “Emperor Ulf couldn’t have wagered that much.”
The king kissed her on the forehead. “He didn’t realize he was. I bet him ten pieces of gold
“Good morning, Centerville! It’s Saturday, March 31st!”
I leapt from bed, staring wide-eyed at the nightstand clock radio. “Again?”
Rushing around my apartment, I confirmed the deejay was not pulling an April Fool’s prank. My journal ended March 30. I needed to dust and vacuum—again. And those soggy brown bananas
“Your testimony is unfinished, Ensign Duffy. Sit.”
Duffy’s knees, already wobbly from stress, buckled, dumping him back down in the witness chair. He faced the unblinking Commodore Brice and her investigative panel.
This isn’t a trial. They promised me I wouldn’t be on trial. Which was true. Besides, I haven’t done anything wrong.
Santa knew this house. As his sleigh bumped lightly on the slate roof, he noticed a frisbee nestled in a gutter. I gave that to Suzy last year. Santa bent down, his ample belly bending easily, and tossed the toy into the yard. He liked the girl here, but her brother Bobby was next level.
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“We’ll be late, Harold!” Beatrice scolded as Harold zipped toward the nearby star. “I told you we needed to leave early!”
“We would’ve been fine if it weren’t for that construction on the Tarangian Way!” Harold snapped back, purple facial tentacles writhing angrily. “Who reduces an intergalactic byway to one lane? Traffic was stopped completely!”
“This is all I need,” Hades muttered.
He peeked around the kitchen doorframe at the knot of self-invited guests mingling in his living room. Athena told him that crowds could be expected when you got a new puppy, but this was just adding insult to injury. I never asked for this.
“Well,” Louisa said, staring at the vast array of cups lining the cave walls, “which one is it?”
Andy turned in place, the assorted accessories hanging from his pack protesting the sudden movement. He adjusted his glasses, bringing the hundreds of wine glasses, champagne flutes, ornate chalices, hefty beer steins, delicate tea cups, and…
“Em! This wardrobe is perfect for your new apartment!” Gillian waved emphatically at a cedar monstrosity.
Scowling at her exuberant friend, Em pointed to deep scratches marring the doors. “Why would I want something that looks like it picked a fight with raccoons and lost?”
“We can sand those out. It’ll look vintage.”
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