“Mister, um…” Brushing a stray brunette lock from my eyes, I squint at the top section of the form on my clipboard. “I hope I’m pronouncing this right. Is it Uberloorde?”
Bare scalp glistening under the fluorescents of my cramped office, he adjusts
On my first day as chief fundraiser for Minifauna Tech, a hamster-sized hippo bit the heels off my favorite pumps. Although their genetically engineered animals are small, crafted to fit shrinking natural habitats, they aren’t tame.
That’s why I insisted on teleconferencing the next meeting. Everyone, including
Forgonath finds me in the Staggering Tavern, hanging over the table like a limp sack and polishing off my fourth flagon of ale. The others arrive shortly later—Borduain pats me on the back and calls for his own tankard while Lorovan slides into the chair across from me
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I stumbled into Kansas in a flash, choking on a cloud of dust. “Too like… Morrisa’s… dramatic entrances,” I coughed. Waving my free hand about my face to clear the air, I frowned and regarded the wand still grasped in the other. Why had it
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“You’ll never guess who just jingled into the station.” Officer Fendall kicked the door closed, offering a Styrofoam cup of coffee to the sergeant.
“No…” The sergeant sipped, frothing his mustache.
“Yep. Insisting to speak with an officer.”
“Nooo…”
“A particular police sergeant, in fact.”
Ebenezer Scrooge sat by the fire—an actual fire, blazing merrily this Christmas Eve instead of the pathetic ember he used to permit—muttering cheerfully to himself while polishing his spectacles. Just then, the clock struck seven. The flames flickered ominously. A breeze as cold as the inside of a snowman’s trousers swept through the room,
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Oh, humbug, humbug, humbug!
Down the street Scrooge sprinted, leaving a trail of paw prints across the thin blanket of snow. Windows aglow blurred by as he passed apartments and houses.
Bah, Fred! Why do you reside so far!?
He veered onto Fern Street.
Felix counted down the seconds as he adjusted his glasses and glanced at his clipboard.
Sloppy notations filled the margins: Displays bitterness and regret. Reluctant to engage. Replies with Humbug when upset. Bright red letters reading Unchangeable branded the top of the file.
A
Ebenezer Scrooge hated many things, including Christmas, carolers, cheer, children, and the words “limited-time offer.”
Oh, and one more thing—chaos. As in what happened when his router suddenly gifted him a high-pitched whine and then died. An overheating his cold existence was not familiar with. His orderly life was abruptly unplugged.
Therrus eyed the snacks neatly aligned on the table and considered grabbing something before deciding that he was too nervous to find the food appealing. For now, he should just make his way to a corner. He turned and nearly collided with a young woman, almost sending the snacks on her plate tumbling.
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Today was the day that Therrus would see a ghost. Or maybe Bigfoot. He hadn’t decided which one to look for first. Since coming to Earth two months ago, he’d heard humans voice a variety of opinions about creatures that may or may not exist.
To better understand this fascinating aspect of human culture,
The woman at the front desk eyed Therrus, then pointed at his sunglasses. “It might be bright outside, but don’t expect much sunshine from old Bulver. He doesn’t like reporters, Mr. James.”
Therrus, reveling in the ring of his adopted Earth name, replied with a bow. “Fear not, madam. I am only here to help.”
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