A large black glowing ball with orange and red flaming swirls in its depths rotated in a pool of green, brackish water. From its top sprouted a head of ice-burg lettuce. A spider, dressed in red capris pants and candy-striped legwarmers, lazily spun a web among the pale green leaves. From deep within the ball issued a shrill ringing while the lettuce mumbled in a sing-song voice. Stu sat naked and cross-legged before the apparition and leaned against a giant tree root.
“Beloved,” said the lettuce. “The palantir is making strange noises.”
The spider paused on its web and looked pointedly at Stu. “Why does he insist on calling it a planter?”
The lettuce rattled irritated leaves. “Pal-en-teer,” it enunciated very clearly.
The spider harrumphed. "Isn't that just what I said?"
A large monster, holding a goblin arrow in one tentacle, reached from the water and tapped Stu smartly on the foot. “She says she has to speak to you. Now. It’s urgent.” The tentacle waved the arrow. “Take it.”
Stu stared for a moment at the heavens and then redirected his attention back to the lettuce. “Tell Arween,” sighed Stu, “that that she could have ended up married to Dildo and to stop her bitchin’.”
The lettuce growled heavily. “The witch wants you, beloved, not Arween.”
“Pour some water on her,” Stu snarled. “She’ll melt faster.”
“Stewart George Martin!”
Stu’s eyes came open with a snap and he rolled on to his back.
“Whatdafuck?” Then he clutched his head as his hangover kicked in. The first thing he became aware of was that he was naked. The next thing he noticed was that Legless was also naked. Both their bodies were covered in a soft, faded quilt. He grunted and struggled upright.
“Stu!” William held the phone’s receiver and waved it in his son’s face. “It’s Brenda.” Standing beside him, Joanne wrung her hands, looking both disheveled and worried in her pink flannel night gown.
“What’s all the fuss?” Glimmergroin’ s voice thundered from the top of the stairs and his footsteps began echoing in the hall.
“Just the phone,” William called back. “Here, Stu.”
With Legless’ eyes on him, Stu took the phone and held the receiver as close to his ear as he dared. “Hello?”
“Stu,” Brenda’s voice was a harsh whisper on the other end, an eerie change from her usual harsh shout. “I only have a minute. You’ve got to come get the girls.”
“What?” Stu rubbed his temple with one hand and tried to clear the alcohol fueled fog from his mind. “What do you mean I have to come get them? Why are we whispering?” He whispered.
“Please,” said Brenda, not at all sounding like herself. “I can’t talk about it. Just come and get them before it’s too late.”
“Too late fer what?” Stu demanded. He received no answer. “Brenda? Hello? Brenda?” He looked around helplessly. “I think she hung up.”
Joanne snatched the phone away from her son and put it to her ear. “Brend Jo?” After a second she held it out to her husband. “I guess she did hang up. What did she want Stu?”
“She said,” Stu replied, shifting slightly so that his and Legless’ legs were no longer touching, “that I needed to come get the girls before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what, laddie?” The dwarf stood in his bare feet, his bright blue pants pulled over his hips but not laced. His naked chest reminded Stu of shag carpet.
“What an odd hour for a phone call,” remarked Aunt Sue from just behind him. Her wig was pushed completely forward on her head, making her look like an English sheepdog. She wore only a sheet twined around her bony frame.
“Aunt Sue,” Joanne’s bleary eyes widened at the sight of her widowed relative. “Where are your clothes?”
“Upstairs, of course,” Aunt Sue replied with an indignant sniff. “When do we leave?”
“We?” Stu asked as he tried to avoid looking at both his aunt and Glimmergroin.
“Leave?” Asked Legless with sudden interest.
“I told you we were sent back to rout some evil stain,” Glimmergroin said with a clap of his hands. “And this proves it. Clandestine conversations. Disrupted communications. Murder. Mayhem.”
Beginning to panic, Stu ignored his headache and flapped his hands at the dwarf. “No, no. Brenda just wants me to get the girls. That's all. It’s nothing sinister at all.” I hope, he thought. “I mean, she’s probably being her usual melodramatic self.”
Aunt Sue sucked her false teeth. “I always said there was something fishy about that Rich fella.”
“Now, Aunt Sue,” began William, trying to diffuse their emotional agitation. “Don’t go blowing things all out of proportion. Stu’s probably right. Brenda always had a dramatic streak in her.”
“You mean,” retorted Joanne, “that she’s always been a mean bitch. And that man she married has a sneaky side to him. Every one says so.”
“It’s just like in Baitshop Silhouettes,” nodded the elf. “There is much intrigue and danger. I can sense it.” His startling eyes turned to Stu. “We must depart immediately.”
“It’s five in the morning,” William shook his head. “And we’ve all been up half the night drinking and carrying on. I think we’re making mountains out of molehills.”
“How can you stand there and say that?” Shrieked Joanne. “Our only granddaughters may be in danger.”
Aunt Sue shook her head sadly. “Just like Bobby Ray.”
Stu’s hangover was getting worse by the syllable. And as much as he knew he‘d regret asking the question, he felt the compulsion to do so anyway. “Who is Bobby Ray, Aunt Sue?”
“He’s Sandy’s husband, of course. And no one would listen to him, either, when he kept telling them that Bo was crooked.”
Legless scratched his Mohawk. The name sounded familiar. “Bo? Isn’t he the records keeper?”
“Yep, the very one,” Sue nodded. “He was crooked as a dog’s hind leg and cooked the books but good and bilked the bait shop out of two thousand dollars and ran off to Mexico with that young Lou-Lou who used to waitress down at the Wonder Waffle.”
Stu’s palm rose rapidly of its own accord and stopped mere centimeters from his forehead. The throbbing in his temples warned him just in time. He lowered his hand back to his lap. “Aunt Sue, that’s a television show.”
“Don’t mean it ain’t real.”
“Fuckin’A, lass,” nodded the Dwarf.