Mistletoe Milkshake for Zombz!
Cotton Candy #7. Preparations with Milkshake and Malt
Rating : G
Word Count : 516
Zombz asked for Hoppers and holidays. I had lots of fun humiliating them. Hope I did ok.
“You’re sure Muzange got this right?” asked Zeez for what, Dom swore, must be the hundredth time.
“As far as I know,“ said Dom, wondering what was taking the girls so long. He did his best not to look at the man for fear of laughing as Zeez continued to shift about awkwardly, the thick padding of the fake muscles in his suit forcing his arms to the sides. Not that staring at the giant, red boats on his own feet was of much help.
“What’s the ‘S’ even stand for?”
“Hell if I know.” Dom shoved a wayward frizzy, purple curl out of his face for what also seemed like the hundredth time.
A door slammed and the slap of feet, pouding the floor as hard as they could even in soft slippers neared. “I am not wearing that!” the puffy pink cloud that vaguely resembled Risk shouted over her shoulder.
“But-” came the none too confident response from Blue, who followed as closely behind as anyone might dare. She wore a short black skirt, trimmed in excessive amounts of lac, and a matching cap, and, in her outstretched and heavily trembling hands, she clutched a dainty silver tiara.
Risk’s eyes caught Dom’s with a look brimming with violence. “Tell her I’m not wearing that, because, if I have to tell her one more time, she’s getting hurt.”
“You think I want to wear this?” said Dom, with a wave of one white gloved hand at his own colorful suit, adorned with both stripes and polka dots
“If the people on this world want to dres like freaks, that’s their problem,” she snapped. “I don’t see why we have to join them.”
“Do they really all carry these baskets?” said Zeez, dangling one of the plastic pumpkins with the cheesy geometric faces stamped into it in front of his nose.
“Yes,” said Dom, through gritted teeth. As if he knew any better than the rest of them. All they had to go off of was Muzange’s say so.
Risk gave Zeez’z pumpkin a tap and it wobbled back and forth on its plastic cord. “Freaks,” she said.
Dom sighed. “Let’s just get on with this. Everybody ready?” Risk and Blue picked up their pumpkins. Dom shot impatient look. She snatched the tiara from Blue’s hands and shoved it onto her head.
“Ready,” she grumbled.
Their hop brought them to a peaceful little street. Quaint little houses of bricks and shingles stood in neat rows to either side, lounging in the shade of trees decked in red and gold. Sure enough, there were flocks of people, dressed in the same ridiculous gear as the Hoppers, racing between the buildings. Only, not one of them could be more than ten years old.
“Uh, Dom…” said Zeez. “I think Muzange forgot to tell us we were going to a world of midgets.”
Risk ripped the tiara from her head, and there was a prolonged crackling and crunching as she ground it beneath one pink slippered foot. Dom put his frizzy, rainbow wrapped head in his hand and groaned.
Rating : G
Word Count : 516
Zombz asked for Hoppers and holidays. I had lots of fun humiliating them. Hope I did ok.
“You’re sure Muzange got this right?” asked Zeez for what, Dom swore, must be the hundredth time.
“As far as I know,“ said Dom, wondering what was taking the girls so long. He did his best not to look at the man for fear of laughing as Zeez continued to shift about awkwardly, the thick padding of the fake muscles in his suit forcing his arms to the sides. Not that staring at the giant, red boats on his own feet was of much help.
“What’s the ‘S’ even stand for?”
“Hell if I know.” Dom shoved a wayward frizzy, purple curl out of his face for what also seemed like the hundredth time.
A door slammed and the slap of feet, pouding the floor as hard as they could even in soft slippers neared. “I am not wearing that!” the puffy pink cloud that vaguely resembled Risk shouted over her shoulder.
“But-” came the none too confident response from Blue, who followed as closely behind as anyone might dare. She wore a short black skirt, trimmed in excessive amounts of lac, and a matching cap, and, in her outstretched and heavily trembling hands, she clutched a dainty silver tiara.
Risk’s eyes caught Dom’s with a look brimming with violence. “Tell her I’m not wearing that, because, if I have to tell her one more time, she’s getting hurt.”
“You think I want to wear this?” said Dom, with a wave of one white gloved hand at his own colorful suit, adorned with both stripes and polka dots
“If the people on this world want to dres like freaks, that’s their problem,” she snapped. “I don’t see why we have to join them.”
“Do they really all carry these baskets?” said Zeez, dangling one of the plastic pumpkins with the cheesy geometric faces stamped into it in front of his nose.
“Yes,” said Dom, through gritted teeth. As if he knew any better than the rest of them. All they had to go off of was Muzange’s say so.
Risk gave Zeez’z pumpkin a tap and it wobbled back and forth on its plastic cord. “Freaks,” she said.
Dom sighed. “Let’s just get on with this. Everybody ready?” Risk and Blue picked up their pumpkins. Dom shot impatient look. She snatched the tiara from Blue’s hands and shoved it onto her head.
“Ready,” she grumbled.
Their hop brought them to a peaceful little street. Quaint little houses of bricks and shingles stood in neat rows to either side, lounging in the shade of trees decked in red and gold. Sure enough, there were flocks of people, dressed in the same ridiculous gear as the Hoppers, racing between the buildings. Only, not one of them could be more than ten years old.
“Uh, Dom…” said Zeez. “I think Muzange forgot to tell us we were going to a world of midgets.”
Risk ripped the tiara from her head, and there was a prolonged crackling and crunching as she ground it beneath one pink slippered foot. Dom put his frizzy, rainbow wrapped head in his hand and groaned.