Come into my parlor
October 16 2002 at 8:04 AM |
Harbinger of Death
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“Dammit, Tom!”
“What?” The giant turkey looked up, surprised.
“You made a clerical error and now I look like a fool.” Harbinger was
pretty pissed. “You didn’t get these names right. It wasn’t Lyrical and
Raindrop. It was Lyric and Birdly.”
“Well, they sound almost the same. Anybody could have made that mistake!”
“Not me.” His eye sockets blazed. “I never make that mistake. I have a
clipboard and I have a list. Everybody gets crossed off when they die.
That way I don’t repeat anybody. It’s that simple.”
“Stop yelling at me. You’re making me nervous. See? I’m losing feathers.”
“I don’t care! This is my JOB! How would you like it if people started
putting a figurine in a sari next to the Pilgrim figurine on the
Thanksgiving table?”
“Uh…”
“Somebody from India.”
“Oh. Well, I guess I’d feel pretty dumb.”
“Exactly my point. This is my livelihood. I take pride in my work and I
also have to be consistent and efficient in order to maintain my good
status with the holiday icon office. I won’t get a raise if I mess up.”
Tom gobbled softly. “Sorry, friend.”
“Please, let’s try to be more meticulous, okay?” Harbinger sighed.
“Of course.”
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Lyric, Birdly, Thalia, Intrigue, Lorelei, Lorel and Aeakos worked at
digging a ditch just off the main path by the dormitories. They were dirty
and sweaty, but they had quite a hole underway.
“This will be the perfect practical joke,” Thalia said gleefully.
“I know,” Birdly agreed. “It was my idea, after all.”
“Not either!” protested Lorelei. “You told me to go jump in a hole, and I
said Fine, watch me, and—”
“Credit is irrelevant,” Intrigue interrupted. “This is a group effort.”
“Put yer backs into it!” said Aeakos, who had gotten quite a bit more dirt
removed than the girls.”
“You’re just stronger than us, dear,” said Lorel.
“No, I’m just not talking non-stop like you guys.”
“It looks like we can put the leaves over the top now. This will be a
great trap for an unsuspecting victim!” They all cackled at the thought of
it. And then, WHOOOSH.
“ACK! SPIDER! SPIDER!” yelled Lyric, hopping around.
“Stop it, stop it, it’s me,” Intrigue said. “We’re all spiders.”
“Oh man, I give myself the willies,” she groaned, twitching.
“It’s fitting,” Lorel noted. “We were setting traps, and now we have this
huge web.”
“ACK, ACK!” cried Lyric again.
“Would you quit!” The others said impatiently. But they followed a
trembling leg as it pointed behind them. A big green scaly face was
peering intently at them.
“L-l-lizard,” Lyric whispered.
With several darts of its pink, sticky tongue, the lizard lapped them all
up like juicy morsels.
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