1. Wallflower Crash
To be honest, I never thought somebody would still use cassette recorders.
Well, I’m pretty sure it’s convenient, as it’s much harder to lose a cassette than a flash drive or a memory card, and probably losing those things would make people ask many difficult questions. Not to mention that these guys are probably underfunded. I bet they’ll write down my testimony and put it on a floppy disk or something like this.
Even though it’s the middle of the night, the woman who walks into the room is wearing sunglasses. She has long, ginger hair and for some reason, she’s carrying a holster attached to her belt. My long-time experience in video games tells me that it’s a Smith & Wesson Model 29, which tells me more than I need to know.
I ended up in a room with a goddamn Dirty Harry wannabe. And I’m just a schoolgirl.
Well, I apparently also killed someone with a bonsai tree, though my memories of this are rather hazy. I guess this won’t look good in court.
“Lieutenant Copper Top,” she says to the cassette recorder. “Saturday, June 8th. The interrogation of Ms. Wallflower Blush.” She turns to me. “I’d like to say that your partners in crime are already telling us the whole story and ratting you out, but I’m afraid their testimonies make no sense. You look like a reasonable girl. Will you tell me why you ended up in a car with ten million dollars stolen from the Dunwich bank and the corpse of a guy dressed as a clown?”
“It’s a long story,” I reply. “Also, shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“Your lawyer is on the way, though she’s currently banging her head against the wall after having to work with that blonde girl who tried to give us a Get Out of Jail Free card,” Copper Top replies.
“Do I also have the right to remain silent?” I ask.
“You do, but in your situation, it’s probably not advised.” Copper Top sighs. “One of your friends told us interesting things about an international conspiracy of bunnies, so we called the psychiatrist. If you want to feign insanity, you’d better be good.”
“Eh, you won’t believe me anyway,” I reply.
“I can believe a lot of things.” Copper Top lowers her sunglasses and looks at me. “For starters, who is this Great Roberto you’re working for and why did you bring him to Dunwich?”
“The Great Roberto is a bonsai tree.” I smile sheepishly. Really, I shouldn’t have done that. “Have you heard of Dunwich Bonsai Fair?”
“Of course, I live here.” She rolls her eyes. “Every year we get called because someone offended someone’s bonsai tree and it caused a riot that lasted for three days. Murdering a clown is, however, something new. What did the clown do to you?”
How would I know? I wasn’t quite myself at the time, though at least Roseluck managed to flush everything down the toilet before we got arrested. Also, I think we already found the clown like this, but I can’t remember it.
“Well…” I say. “It all started when Muffins wanted to steal a school bus…”
“I think I found a way to get The Great Roberto to Dunwich Bonsai Fair and back unscathed,” Roseluck says, walking into the shed in the school garden. She raises her eyebrows slightly, looking at the upturned wooden chest with some playing cards scattered on it – the remains of Muffins’ attempts to organise a poker night. “It’s definitely better than Muffins stealing the school bus.”
Well, there’s a lot of things better than Muffins stealing the school bus. That’s, like, literally everything that doesn’t get you arrested, expelled, or bound, gagged, and forced to watch Star Wars Holiday Special on repeat.
Muffins raises her hand in protest. “For the record, I didn’t actually steal the school bus, you know. Turns out, those things are guarded and you can’t really hotwire it.”
“Can you even hotwire a car?” I ask.
“I asked Indigo for advice, but it turns out it doesn’t work for a bus.” Muffins shrugs. “Maybe I should bring her next time. I mean, her sister ended up in prison for stealing a Pinto and blowing it up, though I guess the latter part would happen sooner or later.”
Arrested – check. Getting expelled or kidnapped by a freak with unusual taste in movies is up next, I guess.
“We’re not stealing a bus!” I shout. “After all, didn’t Rose mention she has a solution?”
“Finally someone who listens to me,” Roseluck says, opening the shed door with a loud creak. I’d oil the hinges, but at least it warns me when someone walks in without knocking. “Lily, what are you doing there?”
“Just, uhh, admiring the flowers.” A blonde girl with pinkish skin walks into the shed. She wears a white t-shirt and a pair of torn jeans, and she’s constantly throwing nervous glances around. Back when I was a kid, my parents would warn me against people offering me free drugs. Sadly, I never met any, but something about Lily tells me that she’d be one of them.“You don’t have any mice here?”
“No, but we can order some if you’re hungry,” Muffins says. “Also, hello, Roseluck’s friend. What brings you here?”
“Lily owns a van,” Roseluck replies. “And she uses it to transport flowers to the store, so The Great Roberto will be safe there.”
She has a van now? I bet it’s an unmarked white van from the nineties, perfect for robbing a bank, giving away free candy, or transporting the hapless debtors to their final resting spots. Hey, I actually have a few shovels in the shed, so I can contribute and be useful for once.
Lily blushes. “It’s a very good van. I mean, there are no bunnies hiding inside and it’s pretty fine, so I guess we can use it.”
“What was that part about bunnies?” Muffins asks. Yeah, I’d like to know too.
“Well, it does sound oddly specific,” I say, looking at Lily. “What’s up with bunnies and this van? Did you get it from a vet or something?”
Possibly with a large ketamine stash, I guess.
“Long story,” Roseluck says, unceremoniously elbowing Lily out of the way. “What’s your problem again?” she whispers.
“Well, there’ll be plenty of time to tell this story on the way,” Muffins says. “This, and many others.”
Oh, great. I’m not exactly the most sociable person around and I’d rather sleep the whole time than be forced to talk. Still, I won’t be able to sleep because of The Great Roberto. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories to tell.”
“After we get to Dunwich Bonsai Fair, you will,” Muffins says. “It’s quite a long way, isn’t it?”
“Quite,” I reply. Really, don’t remind me. “I hope The Great Roberto will survive the trip.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll be safe with us.” Roseluck peeks outside to take a look at the bonsai tree in a pot. Not just any tree and not just any pot. It’s The Great Roberto and this pot wouldn’t be any more expensive if it was made of pure gold and we watered the plants in it with Jack Daniels. “He seems to be happy.”
“I mean, we haven't killed any bonsai tree yet, so it should be okay.” Muffins shrugs. “Though then, there’s always the first time. And it always comes at the most inconvenient moment.”
“Don’t even say that.” I shudder. “After we almost lost Phyllis… But at least she found a good home.”
Kind of. I’ve heard some wild gossip about Phyllis’ new owner being a fan of some cult leader from the 1960s, but well, nobody’s perfect.
“Question.” Lily raises her hand. “Do you name every single of your plants?”
“You don’t?” I ask before I can stop myself. Just when I thought I could be socially capable. “Wait, do I sound like a weirdo with no life again?”
“Remember that the person you’re talking to has some unresolved issues with bunnies,” Muffins says. “We’re all mad here.”
Do tell. Once we’re in Dunwich, I’m gonna be wheeled to the local asylum for ripping someone’s throat with my teeth during a heated discussion on bonsai trees. Then I’ll become a part of the school’s anthology of legends. Quite an improvement over not being noticed at all.
Damn, it’s probably not the right moment to say I’m looking forward to this trip. I mean, Lily looks kinda weird, but she’s Roseluck and Muffins’ friend, so she’s most likely fine.
Well, then I remember that they’re also friends with me, so a bit of a mixed message there.
Muffins’ voice snaps me back to reality. “Wally’s contemplating something again.”
“What?” I ask.
“You’re making that thinking face, like when you’re figuring out whether something is polite or not,” Muffins replies. “I often wonder what you’re thinking about.”
Ripping throats with my teeth, obviously. “Various things.” I smile. Guess it’s a pretty awkward smile because well, teeth. I really should stop thinking about this.
Roseluck nods. “So, are we good? We get Lily’s van and go to Dunwich?”
“Yes,” I reply before I have a chance to think about it. Still, I’ll probably spend the next week looking for excuses not to go, but that’s future Wallflower’s problem. The present Wallflower is way too excited by rare bonsai trees to care.
To think about it, that’s a slightly weird thing to get excited by.
Well, I was right. I did spend an entire week looking for excuses not to go.
After a while of pondering the situation, I decided to write down my excuses on a whiteboard conveniently lying around in my room and get rid of them.
For starters, Lily Valley is most definitely not a serial killer. I mean, not everyone who drives an unmarked white Ford Transit is some kind of a criminal. Besides, what are the chances a random high school girl with an interest in gardening is a serial killer? I mean, we have access to shovels, woodchippers, axes, and all sorts of things useful in getting rid of bodies, but come on. When was the last time you’ve heard of a gardener killing somebody?
To think about it, the chances of finding out the person sitting next to you in a white unmarked van is a serial killer are probably smaller than that someone brought a bomb onto your plane. Of course, if you’re into statistics, you can just bring your own bomb. What are the chances two guys brought bombs onto a plane?
Wait, it doesn’t mean I’m becoming a serial killer just to make sure Lily isn’t one. Also, woodchippers are terrible when it comes to getting rid of bodies. It’s hard enough when the body is in one place, even more so if it’s everywhere.
Not that I know, I swear.
I really should stop watching edgy anime before sleep. Or instead of sleeping.
No, Muffins is not a serial killer either.
Why did Lily say there are no bunnies in her van? I like bunnies and cute, fluffy things in general. This ban on bunnies is a bit weird, but well, we all have our little quirks. Or maybe she’ll feed us to bunnies? I’ve heard they can eat everything.
On second thought, those were pigs. Moving on.
The next thing on the whiteboard: I’ll make a fool of myself again. Well, most definitely with this attitude. But as Muffins said, we’re all mad here.
Step three: how do I install a new attitude?
Well, at least this didn’t bother me much. I solved it by practicing my social skills in some dating sims. If only I had dialogue options in real life; that’d be great.
But well, a week passed and I’m still no better. In the morning, I grab my backpack and, without much enthusiasm, I go to the bus stop where Muffins, Roseluck, and Lily are supposed to pick me up. I still have a chance to run away if anything goes wrong. But by now, I guess I can just enjoy the sunny weather.
Wait. Let’s hope Muffins doesn’t forget to put The Great Roberto in the shadow. And I really hope this van has AC. And that it has been cleaned recently. If not, any trace of fungi could lead to a potential disaster.
I hear the sound of an engine. I look up and of course, I see a white, unmarked Ford Transit. I just knew this would happen. The brakes screech as Lily pulls over and stops by me. Roseluck opens the door and waves at me.
“Hello,” she says. “Are you ready?”
Sure I am. Six million ways to die – choose one. Getting aboard a van full of weirdos may be an interesting choice.
On second thought, I immediately want to retreat. There are some cozy seats inside and The Great Roberto is safely seated in his expensive pot, but while I expected just Roseluck, Muffins, and Lily, there’s a fourth girl in there. She has light green, curly hair and pink skin, nicely complimented by her yellow dress.
“Hello,” she says. “You’re Wallflower, right? My name’s Daisy and I’m Lily’s cousin.”
“Umm… Nice to meet you,” I say. “W-what brings you here? Do you also like bonsai trees?”
“She pays for gas,” Lily replies, pushing the accelerator. I drop on the seat next to Muffins, who’s looking at something on her phone.
“Oh, hi Wally,” Muffins says. “Have you heard the new song by Trixie and the Illusions?”
“Not really.” I mean, I spent the last week with a whiteboard, dating sims, and a personal massager, so I probably have to catch up on the musical exploits of Trixie, whoever she is. “I mean, are they still a thing?”
“The rumours about them disbanding because Fuchsia Blush ate the last taco were greatly exaggerated,” Muffins replies, showing me her phone. “It’s called Vanishing Act. You’d like it.”
I take a look. Ah, so this is Trixie! She thinks being able to do magic tricks makes her special. You know, in a place where people randomly turn into demons or get magic stones that make people forget you’ve ever existed.
“Why’d they argue over a taco?” I ask, trying not to think that Lily and speed limits apparently don’t quite mix.
“I mean, you just don’t take the last taco without asking if someone doesn’t want it first,” Muffins replies. “Daisy, would you take the last taco without first asking Lily and Rose if they want it?”
“Nah,” Daisy replies. “I mean, when Lily has munchies, she eats all the tacos anyway.” She shrugs.
“Can you tell her to slow down, by the way?” I ask. “The Great Roberto and bumps don’t exactly mix, not to mention that I can feel every bump too.”
At least I don’t get motion sickness that easily. Guess the bumps don’t notice me, even if I notice them.
“That’s because you’ve never rode my bicycle,” Muffins replies. “And you never will because I don’t lend my bicycle, Flash Sentry, or my toothbrush to anyone. Unless I die, then you can have my bicycle, assuming it’s in one piece.”
“Also, it’s got the original suspension!” Lily exclaims.
“So it’s over twenty years old,” Roseluck replies. “Do you even repair this thing or just check which part we lose first?”
“I mean, if I ever end up playing chicken with an 18-wheeler, don’t bother trying to tell me and my bike apart, just shovel everything into the coffin. Or a shoebox.” Muffins shrugs.
“Rose, chill out,” Lily says, swerving to the right to avoid a collision with some crazy kid with a scooter. “Also, nothing ever will fall off this van. I had everything checked yesterday.”
“What is that red light on the dashboard?” I ask.
“Don’t worry, it’s broken,” Lily replies.
“To think about it, it’d be hard to do a Viking funeral with a bicycle,” Muffins says. “And don’t buy a boat just to burn it. I won’t be leaving you that much money.”
Six million ways to die. I guess Muffins already chose hers.
“What about a paddleboat?” Daisy asks. Oh great, she and Muffins are probably orbiting the same planet or something. “I mean, it’s technically a bicycle.”
“Is it?” I ask. “It has pedals, but no wheels or handlebar and it’s more of a boat, really.”
“But the idea is the same as a bicycle,” Daisy replies.
“It doesn’t really matter since burning a paddleboat is probably bad for the environment.” Muffins says, looking back at her phone.
Roseluck walks back to us after a heated discussion with Lily. “The good news is, we probably won’t lose any parts,” she says. “Still, if you want to place bets, Lily doesn’t have anything against it.”
“Five dollars for the left rear wheel.” Muffins smirks. “What about you, Wally?”
“I’d go with the fender,” Roseluck mutters. “Though we lost the door once, but only after we stopped and opened it.”
“Fender, then,” I say. I look through the window and see that we already left the town, driving down a narrow road in the middle of the forest, at a speed suggesting that Lily’s lifelong dream is to become a rally driver.
And, when it comes to fulfilling the lifelong dreams, she most definitely follows the “get rich or die tryin’” principle.
“What does she usually transport in this van?” I ask after a particularly large bump sends me flying, almost hitting my head on the ceiling. And mind you, I’m not very tall, so that’s quite a feat. “Potatoes?”
“Roses,” Roseluck replies. “They don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t expect this from someone who has a weird obsession with bunnies.” Muffins shrugs. “I mean, she could give Indigo Zap a run for her money when it comes to crazy driving.”
“Is she the one who taught you how to hotwire a school bus?” I ask. The name most definitely rings a bell.
“Yeah,” Muffins replies. “You know, loud, short, sports fanatic… Similar to absolutely no one. You probably saw her.”
“You’ve just described half of the town.” I shrug. “The other half isn’t short.”
“True.” Muffins shrugs. Right on cue, I hear the screeching of the twenty-year-old brakes and almost fall out of my seat as we skid to a halt. At least The Great Roberto is safely attached to his seat with the seatbelts, so he doesn’t seem to mind. Which can’t be said about my collarbone.
“What the hell, Lily?” Roseluck yells, causing Daisy to squirm.
“There was something on the road,” Lily replies. “Like, uhh…” She shudders. “A bunny or something.”
“A bunny? Why not Gaea Everfree, while we’re at it?” Roseluck rolls her eyes. “I think we’re actually close to the camp.”
“I wouldn’t run over Gaea Everfree either.” Lily sighs. “And we’re far from the camp. Wait a minute, I gotta check if we didn’t hit something.”
“Too bad,” Muffins says. “I’d like to see how Gloriosa is doing. Wally, you’ve never met Gloriosa, right?”
Sigh. “I’ve been to that camp, you know? And yes, I’ve met Gloriosa, and I also got trapped by vines, spent twenty minutes hanging upside down, and then it took me a week to–”
“–recover from trauma?” Daisy asks.
“No, stop binge-watching every anime with tentacles I know.” I shrug. “Maybe it was a coping mechanism, I have no idea. Also, why does no one remember I was there?”
“Magic stones,” Muffins replies.
“Maybe.” I smile sheepishly.
Daisy furrows her eyebrows. “Wait, what do tentacles have to do with vines?”
I look at her. Sometimes I just don’t know whether someone is joking or not and this is a particularly tricky case. Especially since, when I look at Muffins, she seems just as confused as me.
“She was raised by goats, she doesn’t get it,” Lily says, getting back into the van.
“Goats?” Muffins asks. “Now that’s a new one. Usually, it’s wolves; unless you’re Tarzan, then it could be baboons for all we know.”
“Nah, my uncle and aunt just have a farm.” Lily turns the engine on and the van darts forward. “I think Daisy spent most of her childhood with goats.”
“And she’d never seen goats, uhh, making baby goats?” Muffins asks.
Well, thanks for the mental image. I guess I won’t sleep tonight. “Well, to be honest, there’s a long way between goats and tentacles, if you catch my drift,” I say.
“True.” Muffins nods. “Maybe you’ll explain tentacles to Daisy. You seem to be an expert.”
“Yeah, what’s up with tentacles?” Daisy asks. “Also, what is anime?”
Nope. Like, totally nope. “I’ll tell you later,” I say. After I manage to drown my brain in vodka or pesticides. Or whatever they give people at Dunwich Bonsai Fair.
“You’re better off not knowing,” Roseluck says. “I mean, I met Wallflower just a few months ago and I already know about all sorts of depravities I didn’t know existed.”
Wait, I’m a bad influence on someone? Well, that’s a new experience for me. I mean, for a long time I only had myself, my plants, and an Internet connection, and that last one turned out to be a problem. I didn’t start growing weed in my garden, but I apparently filled every single item on the ‘antisocial weirdo’ bucket list instead. And I still like anime, even though I have friends now. Even worse – Muffins told me there’s a girl in Crystal Prep who is into some pretty cool anime. Her name is Sunny Flare or something like this.
“One man’s depravity is another man’s treasure,” Muffins says. “Or woman’s, in this case. Anyway, where are we?”
“Between Canterlot City and Dunwich,” Lily replies. “I think there’s a gas station in ten miles or so, so if someone prefers to pee without getting ticks in fun places, they should hold on.”
Well, I don’t really feel like going to the toilet, but I’d gladly take a walk and eat something. Not to mention that it’s hard to tell where our next stop will be, so I might as well go there, assuming the toilet at the gas station is at least somewhat clean.
Soon, we leave the forest. The road leads us across large fields, with a distant lake somewhere behind them. The gas station is a part of a large parking lot, filled mostly with trucks full of timber. There’s only a handful of other cars, but it seems that everyone in a fifty-mile radius drives a pick-up.
Lily stops by the gas pump and takes a look at the van’s gauges. I guess it’s not the most economical vehicle in the world, but apparently Daisy pays for it.
“Okay, who’s gonna grab some coffee and hot dogs?” Muffins asks. “That is, after I check out the toilets, but I’m not inviting you there with me.”
I agree, if only to stretch my legs. The station does have a store and a coffee machine and it all looks surprisingly clean for such a middle of nowhere.
Well, to think about it, I don’t drink much coffee. I occasionally live off of energy drinks, but I try to do that only on weekends when there’s too many things to watch and too little time to do it. I usually wake up around midday on the next day, barely remembering what happened, regretting my life choices, and hoping that I didn’t throw up on the keyboard.
“Granola bars?” Muffins’ voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Or something with chocolate? I have no idea if you’re on some diet or not, actually.”
“No diet,” I reply. “I’m not vegan either and I’m only allergic to seaweed.”
“Seaweed? Interesting.” Muffins shrugs. “I see Roseluck just grabbed everything that has chocolate in it and I think I should follow her example. I guess I’ll burn it all later, somehow.”
To think about it, at least I don’t have the right genes to get fat. One thing on the basement dweller’s bucket list I didn’t get right.
“What about exercise?” Muffins asks, picking some chocolate bars. “I mean, shoveling is fun, but if we compare our calves, you can see that–”
“Compare our what?” I ask. Sometimes I wonder if Muffins is on something or if that’s just the way she is. As of late, it seems that it’s the latter. I still can’t believe it.
“Calves. I mean look.” She points at her leg. She wears shorts and I can see the muscles under the skin of her calf pretty well. In my case, if you look hard enough, you can see the bones. “Lots of cycling, you know. Do you like cycling? We could go on a trip, sometime.”
“I don’t really cycle much. Or exercise.” Of course I’m not gonna tell her this, but I used to have much more exercise a while ago. Then I bought an electric toothbrush. “Gardening is pretty much the only physical activity I’m doing.”
“Oh yeah, I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen you in the soccer team,” Muffins says.
Yeah, I don’t see myself in the soccer team either. I guess I’d somehow manage to kick myself in the forehead.
“I guess if we compared our calves, you’d see what I mean.” Muffins looks at my legs. “I mean, there’s a reason why in the world of short skirts, explosions, horse girls, and crazy magic out of nowhere, you’re the one wearing trousers.”
“I find them comfortable,” I reply. Also, I really don’t like shaving my legs, but nobody has to know. I actually did, since there’s a chance someone will see me in my pajamas, but I still don’t like it. “And my calves aren’t that interesting. Also, a lot of girls wear trousers, you know.”
“I can hardly recall any and that’s our school alone.” Muffins shrugs. “Crystal Prep doesn’t count, since they all wear skirts. Sugarcoat wears tights, but that’s probably because she’s a legbeard.”
“She’s a what?” I ask. I swear, Muffins is probably making half of those words up just to mess with me.
“You know, she doesn’t shave her legs and she’s a bit of a douchebagel.” Muffins smirks. Great, I have a soulmate now. “Though then, actual legbeards are usually ugly, but Sugarcoat just looks like… Uhh, she’d look good in a military uniform, smacking everyone with a riding crop.”
“Wouldn’t she wear trousers, then?” I ask. We walk to the cash register where we meet Roseluck, who’s indeed carrying more sweets than I eat in a week.
“Maybe,” Muffins replies. “But still, she’s from Crystal Prep.” She turns to Roseluck. “Rose, do you ever wear trousers?”
“Yes.” Roseluck chuckles. “I mean, other kids have goth phases, but I had a lumberjack phase and I still like them.”
“Okay.” Muffins furrows her eyebrows. “But no other girl in school wears trousers. Seems to be a fad, like those horrible shoes last year.”
Roseluck scratches her head. “Uhh… Principal Celestia? Vice Principal Luna? Rainbow Dash, more often than not?”
“Touche,” Muffins mutters. “Though Rainbow Dash is much funnier when she drops her pants, you know.”
“Do I want to know?” I ask.
“I wonder if the same applies to Celestia.” Roseluck shrugs. Thanks for the mental image, I already hate the fact that it’s gonna haunt me in my dreams. Somehow.
When we get back to the car, Lily and Daisy are already there. Lily looks somewhat sour, throwing aside glances at Daisy who, for once, looks truly happy. Wonder what went on between these two.
“Good news,” Daisy says. “Rose, remember when Lily’s parents took us on vacation to Castle Rock in this van, like, ten years ago?”
“Vaguely,” Roseluck replies. “I remember it kept raining and we spent most of the time playing Scrabble and–”
“I found the Scrabble board under the seat.” Daisy smiles. “And Monopoly too.”
“Great!” Muffins exclaims. “We can ruin our friendship twice as fast now!”
To think about it, I never really played Monopoly. To ruin friendships, one has to first have friends and let me tell you, plants suck at managing their money. Not to mention that none of them can play Scrabble.
“Yeah, that’s what we need,” Lily mutters. “Someone killing someone in my van over a game of Monopoly.”
“Don’t worry, we can always repair our friendship by the traditional tournament of Jenga, laser tag, and fellatio,” Muffins says. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
We look at each other, with a side of eyebrow-raising and shrugging. I guess several questions are basically floating in the air and I guess someone will eventually ask the first one.
Of course, my curiosity gets the better of me and before I can stop myself, I find myself asking the first question. “Did you confuse some Italian words, or did you really mean–”
“Yes,” Muffins replies.
Lily winces. “Okay, but like… I mean, how do you do this competitively? Like, is it about time, quantity, quality, or, uhh… who comes first or last?”
“You don’t do this competitively,” Muffins replies. “The competitive part is Jenga and laser tag, then everybody is a winner.” She looks at us. “Any other questions?”
“What’s fellatio?” Daisy asks.
“Something goats don’t do,” Roseluck replies.
“Or do they?” Lily smirks. I can’t say I’ve seen enough of the Internet to know for sure, but something tells me she knows the answer. And it’s the answer I expect but don’t want to think about.
“Lily, shut up and let’s go before someone overhears us,” Roseluck says. “I’d rather not have anyone try to join the fun.”
“Why?” Daisy asks. “Do you think truck drivers are better at Scrabble than us?”
I swear, one day I’ll go straight to goat hell because of her.
Well, I’m in hell now.
Mentally, at least. We’re back in the van, but we did start to play Scrabble. I don’t know enough two-letter words, plant names are too long, and Japanese is not allowed, so hooray for me. I did manage to get ‘goat’ in and scored quite a few points for ‘grazing’, but somehow Muffins and Daisy always get better letters. At least Roseluck is behind me, but now I’m stuck with some really useless tiles, like ‘c’ or ‘n’. Also, no vowels.
I look at the board. No luck with vowels either, though Roseluck’s ‘purity’ leaves me with quite a convenient ‘u’ with some space around it.
I look at my tiles. Just great. The only word I can come up with is probably not quite allowed. It is a word, okay, but I’m pretty sure Daisy doesn’t know it, Rose will protest, and Muffins will find it funny.
Eh, no risk no fun. I didn’t choose the thug life, the thug life chose me and all that jazz. I grab the tiles and place them around the ‘u’. This word looks really weird when crossed with ‘purity’, to be honest.
Daisy tilts her head. “Is that even a word?”
“No,” Roseluck replies. “I don’t think this is allowed in Scrabble.”
“It is, in tournament games,” Muffins says. “I mean, I always thought those words would be discouraged in official Scrabble tournaments but allowed in casual play.”
“So this is a word?” Daisy asks.
Roseluck looks at me and furrows her eyebrows. Great, I made an enemy who can turn me into fertilizer and no one would notice that I’d disappeared. “Well, it is, but it’s an Australian word.”
Daisy shrugs. “Don’t they speak English in Australia?”
“I always thought it was German.” Roseluck turns to Muffins, as if looking for help. “Right?”
“Nah, that’s Austria,” Muffins replies. “Australia has kangaroos, spiders, snakes, and those funny hats with corks around the brim, Austria has Alps, yodeling, and wieners.”
I can totally hear Lily chuckling at the wheel.
“I’m pretty sure wieners also exist in other countries,” Daisy says, sending Roseluck into a state of shock. “I mean, I had some just–”
Lily’s laughter fills the entire van now. “Either stop playing this game or tell Daisy to shut up or I’ll drive into a tree!” she shouts.
“What’s so funny about sausages?” Daisy asks.
“They are named after Vienna,” Muffins says, looking at her phone. “Though apparently invented in Germany and Austrians don’t call them wieners anyway. Anyway, I guess Wallflower’s, uhh… word can stay.”
“I don’t think so,” Roseluck replies. “And no wiener talk will convince me otherwise.”
“Wiener talk!” Lily guffaws. Oh boy, here we go. I showed them my, uhh, four-letter word and they all got excited. Well, at least those whose experience in this matter doesn’t involve goats.
Well, not that I’m much better at this.
“Don’t worry Rose, it won’t stay here for long.” Muffins grabs a few tiles and puts the letters around my word. Damn, it seems that I gave her enough points to win the game. “I was just wondering what to do with those.”
“Wait.” Rose furrows her eyebrows again. “How is ‘Scunthorpe’ a word?”
“It’s a city in England, come on.” Muffins rolls her eyes.
“Wait, do we allow city names now?” Daisy asks.
“Since 2010, apparently.” Muffins shrugs. “Hey! Don’t blame me, blame the rules!”
Well, I don’t believe I’m saying this, but a game of Monopoly somehow generates less conflict than Scrabble. So far, we only had a problem with tokens, especially since Muffins demanded a race car, saying that since she won at Scrabble, she gets to choose first. I always preferred the terrier myself anyway, but Roseluck, still salty about Scunthorpe, really wanted the car for herself. Eventually, however, Lily convinced her that the battleship was much cooler, and Daisy settled for the top hat.
Still, it seems that the salt is still there. And I’m just a simple woman trying to make my place in the world of real estate, so I guess I’ll have to make use of it.
“Rose, are you interested in giving me Park Place for Pacific Avenue?” I ask.
“Yeah, so you can put a hotel on Boardwalk and screw us over?” She shakes her head. “Never.”
“Then you could build hotels on green properties,” I reply. “And together we’d rule this part of the board.”
“I’d get bankrupt first.” Roseluck looks at her banknotes. “Investing in those will kill me and Daisy already owns everything from Mediterranean Avenue to Connecticut Avenue, so once you pass Go, you’re basically screwed.”
Damn, she’s gonna rip me off, I’m sure of that. “I’ll give you Pacific Avenue and a hundred dollars.”
“Two hundred.”
Wanna play hard? I’ll show you hard. I spent most of my school days alone, so I ended up being kinda selfish. “A hundred, or I’ll sell Kentucky Avenue to Muffins.”
“Now that’s blackmail,” Roseluck says.
“Nah, just good business.” Muffins turns to me. “So, about Kentucky Avenue…”
“She’s not selling you Kentucky Avenue!” Roseluck exclaims.
“She has to, or else Daisy’s empire of cheap properties will slowly drive us all out of business,” Muffins replies. “How did she even get all of them?”
“Maybe she stole it from the bank!” Lily exclaims. “Also, it’s getting dark and I’m getting tired, so if you don’t want to finish this game in the afterlife, we’ll either have to stop or someone has to take the wheel.”
“Aren’t we close to Dunwich?” Daisy asks.
“We are, but I need to take some rest. It’s just like, twenty miles to our hotel. The fair starts tomorrow anyway,” Lily replies. “So, who else has a driver’s licence, actually?”
Well, I drove a car once. It was actually Flash Sentry’s car and I made sure he doesn’t remember I did. I mean, he’d just broke up with Sunset Shimmer and you can’t blame my dumb younger self for thinking that maybe I had a chance. If anything, I’d blame cheap romance novels and, as it is usually the case, anime. With some subtle use of the memory stone, I managed to navigate around my biggest social blunders and we reached the point where he thought that teaching me to drive was a cool way to push our relationship in a new direction. I wasn’t so keen on this and let me tell you, after having to zap Flash, two cops, the old lady, and a dachshund with a memory stone, I still think it wasn’t the greatest of his ideas.
Yes, especially the dachshund. He kept barking whenever he saw me and I’m pretty sure he’d rat on me.
Also, does Flash still wonder why his car had an awful dent on the fender and smelled of chicken crap for a week? Or why he remembers nothing from the whole month when we were together? I should probably tell him about this one day.
Yeah, fixing everything I’ve ever done with the memory stone is gonna be fun.
“I have a licence,” Muffins says. “Flash taught me to drive and I passed the exam with flying colours.”
“What?” I ask.
“Hey, it’s not that hard.” Muffins shrugs. “You should try it sometime.”
“No, I mean that part about Flash,” I reply as Lily pulls over so she could swap places with Muffins. “Does he teach every single one of his girlfriends to drive a car?”
“He didn’t teach Sunset,” Muffins replies. “And I don’t remember him having any other girlfriend, so I guess that’s only a half.”
Ah, of course. No one remembers about me.
Muffins turns to Lily. “I trust you with my financial empire. You’d better not go bankrupt before we reach the hotel.”
“Yeah, sure.” Lily sits at the board as Muffins fastens the seatbelts. “Wait, did you guys rob the bank?”
“Nah, we just paid ourselves some bonuses,” Roseluck replies. “Well, there’s no cash in the bank, but anytime someone passes Go, we write down how much they should get. I’m pretty sure we’re all billionaires at this point.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s how financial crises start,” Lily says. “I guess you should give some money back to the bank and cut this galloping inflation a bit.”
“And cause a collapse of the whole real estate market?” Roseluck asks. “Never.”
“I’ll remind you of those words when we all land in prison,” Lily replies, grabbing the dice.
“Good luck, I have a Get Out of Jail Free card.” Roseluck smirks. “And enough money to get out whenever I want.”
“Okay, the game is rigged from the start.” Lily turns to me. “So, I’ve heard you wanted to sell Kentucky Avenue?”
“She’s not selling this one!” Roseluck exclaims.
“I said I won’t sell it to Muffins,” I reply. “I might sell it to Lily if you don’t give me Park Place and Water Works for Pacific Avenue.”
“The horror!” Roseluck shouts. “Now you want Water Works too, you filthy capitalist?”
“Capitalist?” I ask. “I just want to own the means of production.”
“You were right,” Roseluck says to Lily. “The system needs changing.”
“Yes, I need to win or at least make Wallflower go down before me.” Lily looks at the board. “Also, who let Daisy buy all these properties?”
“I had some lucky dice rolls.” Daisy smiles sheepishly.
Lily shakes her head. “Oh, the horror…”
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based on a true story?
10626322
Luckily not
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Damn, I was gonna say we should hang out.
Farmers also have all the tools and ususally a wide space to bury the bodies. Also, you don't hear about the gardeners because they don't find the bodies.
Actually, bunnies can eat their newborn. I've seen it. So theoretically you could dispose of a body like that.
After reading this, I've two questions:
1) What the fuck is this?
2) Can I pay you to make more?
10626415 Gardeners do not bury the bodies.
How wasteful.
That's what compost piles are for.
I'd never forget you, Samey.
Anyway, another Samey classic. Insane conversations, situations that seem implausible but actually flow logically, asides that make me go, "Wait, WHAT?!" It's gonna be a ride.
Appropriately enough, I'd forgotten I'd preread this.
Wonderful stuff, especially this take on Best Human. Looking forward to more.
10627292
Meanwhile, I forgot to reply to comments, but then, I had a crazy last week, so to speak.
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One could say this fic is unforgettable...
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Sooner or later the body does end up in the ground. Just in a more useful form.
10626415
I guess you'd need more bunnies to dispose of a body, though. Pigs can eat more, I guess.
I felt like I was high reading this.
The Holiday Special is a masterpiece and certainly more canon than any of the Disneywars bad fanfiction.