//------------------------------// // How Early Are They For That Flight // Story: The Dazzlings Are Insane // by Justice3442 //------------------------------// “Sonata,” Adagio sighed out, “Why are you such an attention whore?” Already messaging the spot on her forehead that was her third eye. An eye that was being rubbed with disbelief. “Hey! I paid with all of this with my own money, you ignoring McMc-MCForgetapony!” Sonata exclaimed, having purchased a defense wall-worthy amount of puck-shaped objects. Delicious mooncakes surrounded her indigo eyes. Mooncakes held up by a sturdy foundation of Moonpies. Moonpies whose yellow smailing moon mascot was mocked with a collection of yellow McDonald's cheeseburgers and egg McMuffins, the Big Mac Columns clearly the furthest out of reach, and finally round make-up canister after make-up canister explaining how disappointed that the two didn’t simply Kevin Mccallister.”Anyhow, I’m staying here all Cask of Armadillo until you two admit you need something from me!” “Yo, ‘Nata,” Aria greeted from the seat next to Sonata as if she was just entering the conversation. “Let me in one of those sodas.” Aria reached for one of the large pillars of stacked on top McDonalds large, mediums and even smalls that kept the poor cashier busy for a good half hour. Leaving the floor sticky with soda, tears, and a broken service industry worker.  Sonata swatted the hand away. “No!” she hissed. “Sodas are for caring friends only! You ignored my pissy plight of cakey woe!” “A’ight, chill!” Aria exclaimed, fresh from the skatepark in her mind. “It looks like you raided puck’s treasure trove. And…” She glanced up. “Are those the laser angels from The Never-Ending story?” Adagio sighed smirkely at Aria, “We helped build those and spent so much time making them that we miss our flight!” Oddjob, golden-brown hair, dark-chocolate eyes hidden by closed eyelids crossed green cargo pants draped legs, and dropped her heavy booted heals on the table slowly. Her royal-blue river-trimmed trench coat brushed the aquamarine carpet beneath the table as she leaned forwarded and reached past a half-drunk stout to proudly grab a large soda from the midsection of the Angel that Sees Your Fears and Judges Absolutely. She took a sip in that bubbly-hissy way that forced everyone to look her way, “Plus Adagi and I got you both on that damn plane.” She eyed the yellow fort suspiciously. “Think some of those moon pies have seen parts of the world that are only spoken about in dark-back rooms and clandestine meetings at German Sex Clubs.” Sonata hissed at Oddjob. “Mention not the VanderSex!” Aria gripped the table tightly. “The drills that pierce” Aria smirked, “The teeth that caress.” She laughed as Oddjob checked the group's six for nearby children that might wander too close to the conversation.  Oddjob’s smile went crescent, “The tickle-tips that never rest.” “Beware the sex rifle!” Sonata exclaimed as she mimed holding an actual rifle. “KA-ching!” “Memorize the safeword!” Aria exclaimed. “Uh, now?” Oddjob inquired. She sat down her soda and grabbed her beer. “Let’s tone it down. We are not at the place we failed at not mentioning,” she took a sip of beer. “We are at a delightful bar that mostly encourages our presence, and I would like to stay on good terms.” Aria quickly reached for and successfully snatched a medium, avoiding the swat at the larger cup.  Deep within the bowels of the Port De heXes. “So, what are the girls doing this time?” “They’re filling McDonald’s cups with beer, making actual castles out of puck-shaped things, and talking about sex clubs in rhythm and rhyme!” cried some hysterical dame on the other end of the unnecessarily out-of-date rotary phone.  “Soo… girls things?” the hard-boiled lug on the other end of the phone said. “They’re dipping the ends of drinking straws in ketchup and shooting them at people who FEAR them.” The problem solving, the stylish man of action adjusted his leather fedora and grabbed a keychain on his plywood and cinderblock desk. Running past a perfectly serviceable brushed metal desk with drawers that weren’t painted on the blocks, he addressed his cohort. “Ace! The girls need our help!” “I heard they had too much food and am holding open the door, you cur!”  “Sooo,” Aria took a bite of her cheese-covered sausage biscuit, which she had won from The Moon Fortress of the Dusk clan by way of trial by riddle.  (What OS does this Sausage Busicuit use? Answer: The Sausage Biscuit is a mobile phone user, so Android whatever tasty they named it after.) “Girls!” A stout man that held just enough milkshakes without effort to display his vimtilius strength. “Problem Sleuth and I have equipped the Horror of the Deep!”  “Uncle Ace and Uncle Sleuth have given us recyclable straws and buckets of ketchup!” A Rufio Red creature of undine teeth smiled out. “If my cheeks could get redder, then..”  “Protect the innocent one!” Oddjob shouted, diving atop the well-intended Crimson Dawn from the surprise ketchup that came from her careless words. “Sunsetiee!” Sonata called as she grabbed handfuls of her fort and milkshakes like an adoracrazy combo of the Grimace and the Hamburgler. “Hubby-wife is protecting one of ours!” “On my way! Oh my GOOOOoooooOOOOD HahHahahahaha!” “Someone describe how much my hair resembles Sunset’s!” Oddjob exclaimed as the ketchup-tipped paper darts landed atop her mane.  “There’s no time!” Adagio exclaimed as she, Aria, and Problem sleuth began building a fountain drink igloo as Ace body blocked the onslaught of red straws. “Imagine Heinze was making sweet love to deli-mustard.” “Protect the Charalettes!” barked Sunset as she began lapping at her hubby-wife's hair.  “Send the Charrollete’s out to confound and rifle through people’s things!” Sonata cried as if she was obliterating a town crier with her voice. “Aquire sausages!” Ace Dick demanded, arms already full of sausages. “I’m delivering clandestine coupons to Arby’s!” cried Charrollete Alpha. “Yes, child!” hissed Adagio excitedly. “Give them garbage!” “How dare you!” Oddjob said as she peaked through moist, ketchup dripped hair.”Someone rifle through my pockets until they find Horsey sauce and teach Momma Adagio a lesson.” Adagio dove and rolled over the ever-increasing in height igloo wall as a flame-swished maned pony with a honey-mustard coat gleefully began rummaging through one of Oddjob’s bottom cargo-pants pockets. “Paying the tab!” “Alright, love!” Sunset cried after Adagio’s tastefully tied ponytail. “Get us another round will you?” “Stop giving the children nips from your flask!” screamed a man from across the terminal.  Lifting his eyes from the huffing and puffing kid with a dark green complexion who smiled up at his dad like the world sang with each penstroke. “I’m being delightfully valued dissonant in a prohibition era-appropriate way!” exclaimed Problem Sleuth. “It takes the edge off!” “Okay, fine!” exclaimed a red-headed woman sporting an eye patch. “But when are you going to cast Plechurtude?” War… War Never Changes.