> Wallflower's Rush
>  by Samey90
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 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…”
> 2. Wallflower’s Crush
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time we arrive at the hotel, we’re all completely dominated by Daisy’s real estate empire. We did give some money back to the bank and this was our end: a mass of Daisy cheap properties and our failed attempts at upgrading drove us all off the market. Well, at least Lily went bankrupt before I did.

In the actual hotel, which is much cheaper than whatever Daisy owned, we get two rooms. Roseluck, Lily, and Daisy take one for themselves, leaving me to share the other one with Muffins and The Great Roberto. He took the trip well, at least. Now he just needs some watering and we can call it a day, I guess.

Or at least I hope so. If Muffins snores or talks in her sleep, I’m gonna be really mad. Well, I guess she won’t need sleep to talk to me, but well, so far I’m enjoying some time alone while she’s taking a shower. 

I guess it wasn’t a bad day. I didn’t do anything dumb, I didn’t wish I still had the memory stone, and I didn’t try to kick someone out of the van. Tomorrow, it’s gonna be bonsai trees galore, and I’m pretty sure I have something to read on my tablet. 

Suddenly, the door of the bathroom burst open and Muffins walks out. At least she’s wearing a bathrobe, though it isn’t tied in any way, allowing me to see much more than I’d ever want to. 

“Random shower thought,” she says, grabbing a comb and brushing her hair. Oh boy, here we go. “We never wash our belts, but it’s like, the first thing you touch after wiping your–”

“Thanks for this mental image, I hate it,” I mutter. “Now I need to wash my belt.”

“Yeah, but watch out. The water in the shower sometimes goes cold randomly.” She sits on her bed, the bathrobe swirling around her. I can see not just London and France, but the whole countryside, if you wish. Maybe I should really take a shower – if only so she’d have time to put some pants on.

“You know, I’ve been wondering about Flash,” Muffins says. Oh great, I hope she doesn’t delve into details too much or I’ll really need a cold shower. “How did you know about the driving thing?”

“Uhh… Will it be enough if I tell you that it involved the memory stone?” I ask. “It’s not something I’d like to go back to.”

“Okay then.” Muffins shrugs. “Have you ever tried it on me?”

I swear, one more question like that and I’m gonna run to the toilet and never come out. “Well, everyone in school got the stone at least once, so I probably did.” I shrug. “You know, I don’t even know if I ever tried it on myself. If I did, I don’t remember that.”

“Well, I guess it was the whole school,” she replies. “But have we ever met face to face before and you just made me forget about that? I’m just curious.”

Well, uhh, actually… There was that one time when I got really bored and tried to kiss various girls in school. Muffins parted with her memories of that rather quickly due to being way too eager to kiss me back. Still it wasn’t the worst. I have about a fifteen minute-long gap in my memory between approaching Vinyl and hiding in an empty classroom, so I may have used the stone on myself. Also, Cloudy Kicks punched me in the face which was, I’d say, quite a new experience for me. 

I might have tried to kiss her again.

After a while, I tell Muffins about it. Well, except for the part about Vinyl and Cloudy Kicks. Especially Cloudy Kicks. 

“Huh.” Muffins smirks. “So we kinda kissed, right? Too bad I don’t remember it, but well, we can make up for it.”

Nope. No way. Did I die and ended up in some limbo for creepy weirdos who kiss random girls or break into boys’ locker rooms to smell their– Wait, I never did that, honest.

“From your expression, I guess the answer is no,” Muffins says. “But have you done something fun with this stone? I mean, like running around the school naked or pranking people, or breaking into the boys’ showers to take a look?”

“I totally didn’t do any of these, and especially not the last one,” I reply. “It was mostly boring stuff, like moping and complaining about everything.”

“Not bad.” Muffins nods. “I’d be far less responsible if I got my hands on this stone.”

Yeah, that’s what I thought when I walked out of the supermarket in plain sight with a bottle of whisky, a six-pack of beer and a pack of cigarettes. It wasn’t the brightest of my ideas, mainly because it’s hard to remove someone’s memories when you’re trying (and failing) not to throw up. That was when I thought I should be more responsible. And never mix whisky and beer.

“Like, first thing I came up with was streaking and the other was public sex,” Muffins says. “I never did any streaking myself, but at least Flash and I once did it in the garden, so there’s always that.”

Well, considering her current attire, I’d disagree about streaking, but– Wait, what did she just say?

“Wait, did you two, uhh… in my garden?” I ask, making some suggestive hand gestures. “How could you?”

“Well, I said, ‘I have the keys to the school garden, wanna do it?’ and it escalated from there.” She shrugs. “Come on, you’ve never banged anyone in this garden, with the keys and the memory stone?”

“Does ‘myself’ count?” I ask without thinking what I’m actually talking about. Damn, where did I put my memory stone?

Oh wait, I don’t have it. Just awesome.

“Well, that’s always something.” Muffins smirks. “Becoming one with nature, so to speak.”

“Yeah…” I mutter, looking away. “Just don’t mention it to anyone.”

“Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me,” Muffins replies. “Also, if you ever want to invite someone to your garden, both literally and as a dirty metaphor, we can find someone easily. I mean, Bulk is already taken by Indigo Zap–”

“Who?” I ask. 

“Kinda like Bulk, but female and, like, pocket-sized.” Muffins shows the height with her hand and if she’s accurate, then this Indigo Zap is shorter than me. Though probably stronger, if she shares Bulk’s hobbies. I mean, I once tried to start working out, but no one who was at the gym at the time remembers it. “Anyway, maybe Valhallen? I’m not sure how he can see anything with this hair of his–”

“So you think a guy who can’t see will be the perfect match for me?” I ask. “Just what I suspected.”

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” Muffins replies, smiling sheepishly. “But you could share tips on hair styling and his baby sister is just adorable. We could call you Wally and Vally.”

I sigh. “Can you stop calling me Wally?” 

“Do you prefer Waldo?” She shrugs. “Actually, both could work. People at school spent years looking for you.”

“Oh, come on!” I roll my eyes. 

“Would you maybe prefer ‘Flowey’?” Muffins asks.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I drop on my bed and sigh. “Who names a kid ‘Wallflower’ anyway? Did my parents want me to become a recluse loser?”

“Well, in some cases it works in reverse, you know.” Muffins smirks. “Have you ever met Sugarcoat?” 

“Who?” I mean, according to Muffins’ description we may be soulmates, but I still don’t know her. Also, I think I keep asking this question today. But then, I never bothered with names that much.

“She’s from Crystal Prep, she has the most improbable hairstyle you’ve ever seen, she wears orange-rimmed glasses, speaks like an angry squirrel, and treats everyone like they’re idiots who can’t appreciate her genius. That’s why everyone tells her to shut up whenever she speaks. I think she’s with Sandalwood now.”

I have no idea who Sandalwood is. Like, everytime I think of this name, my memory enters a black hole. It’s not just I don’t remember him; it’s like someone removed every trace of any interaction I’ve ever had with him.

Gee, I wonder who could do that.

I do, however, recall a sharp-looking girl with the most improbable hairstyle I’ve ever seen, who wore glasses, and caught me behind the school when I was just wandering around, probably scheming or just being generally mopey.

“Hey, you,” she said, indeed sounding like an angry squirrel. “Are you Sandalwood’s new dealer? If so, I need cocaine. The theme of our next date is the 19th century, which apparently means getting high and laughing at phrenology.”

“I don’t have any cocaine, sorry,” I replied, my heart racing. She spoke to me! And I totally talked to her normally! And she mistook me for someone! I ran off, accidentally bumping into Sweet Leaf and knocking her down, but I didn’t care. 

Well, to be honest, I ran to my garden and, as Muffins nicely put it, engaged in becoming one with nature. 

To think about it, I still wonder who did she mistake me for. 

“I may have met her,” I reply. Muffins doesn’t need to know the whole story.

“So you know that she’s nothing like her name would imply,” Muffins replies. “Also, we may never know what Lemon Zest has to do with lemons. Unless you mean her fanfiction.”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Are you into fanfiction anyway?” As I say that, I realise that while I may be successful in changing the topic, I’m still going to dangerous waters.

“Not much,” Muffins says. “I’m more into healthy teenage hobbies, like playing soccer, blasting some noobs’ tanks to pieces in video games, playing saw, and having sex in fun places. What about you?”

“Well, I’m into video games too,” I reply, deciding to ignore the other things she mentioned. “And gardening, of course. But I’m generally boring, so–”

Suddenly, the door of our room opens and Roseluck bursts in. Unfortunately for her, I’m pretty sure the first thing she sees are Muffins’ assets in their full glory. 

“Sorry to interrupt whatever you two are doing,” she says, “but Lily is having a freakout.”

“Is it because of a bunny?” Muffins asks. 

“No, a spider and withdrawal.” Roseluck shrugs. “Is someone here not afraid of spiders?”

“Spiders?” Muffins shudders. “Eww.”

“Withdrawal?” I ask. “What withdrawal? Are you telling us just now that she’s a junkie?”

“Nah, that’s just some meds.” Roseluck rolls her eyes. “I guess she forgot to take them. Though then, I don't remember her ever going to a doctor, so–”

“Well, then I’m happy she didn’t see any spiders in the car.” I get up from the bed and crack my knuckles like I know what I’m doing. “Okay, show me this spider.”

We walk to Roseluck’s room. The scene looks quite interesting: Lily, dressed in frilly pajamas, is standing on a chair, frantically staring at the floor. What is more interesting, Daisy is doing the same thing, though at least her pajamas are more traditional-looking. Don’t worry, girls, Rescue-1 is on the way.

“Where’s this spider?” I ask.

“We don’t know!” Lily exclaims. So much for being a tough girl with a van. “It ran away.”

Frankly, I’m not surprised. I’m constantly on the verge of running away myself, though now that I think about it, Muffins actually makes a fine roommate. 

“Did you take your meds?” I ask. 

“I did, just now.” She shrugs. “Still, you have to find this spider!”

Like hell I will. “Daisy, did you take your meds too?”

“I don’t take any meds.” Daisy replies. “Especially not those Lily takes.”

“Then why are you panicking?” I ask, trying not to roll my eyes. After all, I had some meds too, myself, though the package I see on Lily’s nightstand doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before.

“So she doesn’t feel lonely.” Daisy smiles sheepishly. “Also, I don’t like spiders.”

Muffins walks into the room. Apparently she does have some semblance of shame, or maybe it just occurred to her that she’s flashing everyone constantly, because she tied her bathrobe with a matching belt. “Are you playing ‘floor is lava’?” she asks.

“More like, ‘floor is huge scary spiders,” Lily replies. 

“Hey, it wasn’t that huge,” Roseluck says. “Like, we’re not in Australia, come on! It was at best half an inch.”

“At least ten!” Lily exclaims. “We need to find it! I won’t sleep knowing that such a beast is under my bed!”

“Ten inches? I’d prefer to have such a beast in my bed.” Muffins chuckles. “Unfortunately, the size of such beasts is usually greatly exaggerated. It’s five at best.” 

“Why would you want to have a spider in your bed?” Daisy asks. Damn, even I got this, and I’m apparently a virgin. Although with the amount of sinful things I’ve seen on the internet, that word is more devoid of meaning than my life. 

Muffins probably thinks along the same lines, maybe except for the virgin part. “Do we tell her?”

“No,” Roseluck replies. “Unless you want the rest of the night to be even more awkward.”

“Still, this spider is somewhere there.” Lily gets off the chair and looks at her bed. “I need to know where it is.”

“Don’t worry,” Muffins says. “I’ll get a deodorant and a lighter and we’ll kill it with fire.”

I guess it’s time to intervene. “Do you know what’d make the night even more awkward than explaining birds and bees to Daisy? Lighting the hotel on fire.”

“There are bees here too?” Daisy asks. “Maybe we should leave the spider alone, then. At least it’ll catch the bees.”

“They make honey and are generally harmless if you don’t piss them off, but I agree,” I say. “Let’s leave the spider alone.”

“You’re saying that because you haven’t watched My Girl,” Daisy replies. “I thought it’d be fun because that guy from Home Alone was in it, but I was really wrong.”

“Sorry, my knowledge of movies with bees ends at The Wicker Man,” Muffins replies. “And that’s only because Indigo got me into crap horror movies and I suffer to this day. Also, it’s fitting because it also ends in fire.” 

“Daisy, the bees are a metaphor, you know.” I sigh. “As for the spider, there’s no spider. It decided to run when it heard how stupid we all are.”

“What about the spoon?” Muffins asks.

“What spoon?”

“You say there’s no spider, so I’m asking about the spoon.” Muffins shrugs. “I’d rather be ready for the moment when Lily pulls out red and blue pills and asks me to choose one.”

“There is no spoon.” I roll my eyes. “Also, when it comes to bee movies, I can’t believe you missed the most obvious choice.”

“Which is?” Muffins smirks. I’m pretty sure that’s a rhetorical question, but given the way Roseluck and Lily look at me, I guess I’m here to deliver the punchline.

“Like, the actual movie called Bee Movie?” I shrug. “According to all known laws of aviation there’s no way a bee should be able to fly, and so on. This actually defies basic physics, but who’d expect accuracy in a cartoon.”

“Now you just sound like Twilight,” Roseluck says. “She once spent an hour complaining about magnets not working right in some movie.”

Muffins chuckles. “Does anyone even know how they work?” 

“Not me,” I reply. “And now excuse me, I need to take a shower. If you want to hunt spiders all night, no problem, but leave me out of it.”

“You’re gonna leave me with those two searching for spiders all night?” Roseluck groans. “I’ve been through this before and trust me, it’s worse than watching paint dry.”

“You know, I gotta take a shower too,” Muffins says. 

Roseluck raises her eyebrows and looks at Muffins. “You just had a shower.”

“I didn’t.” Muffins smiles sheepishly. I hope she never tries to play poker because she’s gonna get destroyed once she tries to bluff. 

“You’re wearing a bathrobe and your hair is wet. You’re not fooling anyone, you know.” Roseluck crosses her arms.

“Maybe I want to take another shower, but with Wallflower?” Muffins shrugs. “It kind of rhymes.”

I swear, I’m not gay enough for this. I mean, I kinda saw her, uhh… everything, and I doubt I can compare. Also, the shower would be terribly cramped and we’d have to be pretty close together and–

Wait, I shouldn’t be imagining that. I really ought to stop.

Stupid, sexy Muffins!

“I’m gonna take a shower,” I say quickly. “Alone!” 

Muffins looks at me, then at Roseluck, and then at Lily and Daisy who are currently looking under Lily’s bed. “Are you sure–”

“No, I don’t need a hand,” I reply. “I can do it myself just fine.”

On a second thought, this sounded much better in my head. And my imaginary grave I keep digging myself in just got a little deeper. I storm out, go back to my room and hide in the bathroom. I don’t think I’m getting out in a foreseeable future.

After a while, someone knocks on the door, startling me. Good thing I’m actually sitting on the toilet or else it’d get even more awkward. “Wally are you okay?” Muffins asks. Hope she doesn’t try to burst in. I don’t remember if I locked the door.

“Are you asking about my mental state?” I ask.

“Well, I’m not interested in whatever else you’re doing there,” Muffins replies. 

“I think the Stone was way too convenient,” I reply. “I forgot how to interact with people without making a fool out of myself.”

“Don’t worry, at least you’re not looking for spiders under your bed.” Muffins chuckles. 

“Yes, but can we not talk right now?” I ask. “I’m a bit busy here.”

“Oh, sorry!” Muffins exclaims. “I guess I’ll be in my bed. Goodnight!”

“Night,” I mutter. Then I finish what I started and finally take a shower. While desperately trying not to imagine anyone naked or searching for spiders. Or searching for spiders while naked. Though maybe if Lily did that? She’s a bit of a bitch but hey, a girl can fantasize. And Daisy is totally innocent, but if this trip continues, we may spoil her and–

Yikes! So that’s what Muffins meant when she said the water goes cold randomly. There goes the mood. I dry myself with a towel and put on my pajamas before going back to the real world. Which, in this case, includes Muffins herself. 

She’s sitting on her bed with a tablet and watching some sort of a movie. I take a peek at a screen and let me tell you, it’s really weird. Exactly the kind of thing I expect from Muffins.

“What is it?” I ask. “Star Trek-themed gay porn?” 

“Traumschiff Surprise - Periode 1,” she replies. Great, now she speaks in tongues. “It is gay and Star Trek-themed, but it’s not porn. Also, I think I watched it, like, two days ago. Also, I need to catch up on Le Casa de Papel.”

“What now?” I ask. 

“Paper House,” she replies before checking something on her tablet. “Money Heist? Seriously? I always watch it in Spanish anyway.”

“Yeah, I once tried to learn Japanese from anime,” I say. 

“Did it work?” Muffins asks. “I’m not into anime, myself, so I only know a few words.”

 “Well, due to my unfortunate choices, I can now hold a perfectly normal conversation in Japanese, as long as it’s about dressing as a girl to infiltrate an all-girl school.” I chuckle and shake my head at my own stupidity. “Which is not very useful since I don’t even have to try very hard to look like a girl.”

Muffins raises her eyebrows. Yeah, this sounded much better in my head.

“I’m not a dude in drag, by the way,” I say quickly, which probably makes it even worse.

“Even if I didn’t catch sarcasm, your pajama bottoms tell me you aren’t.”

What? Well, yeah, unless I just had a really small equipment. Which I don’t have and if she wants to check–

Wait, what am I thinking about? Way to go wrong about it. Soon, I’ll drop my pajamas, she’ll get out of that bathrobe and Roseluck will get all the wrong ideas if she ever decides to visit us again. 

Oh yeah, I can imagine this conversation. 

“You’ve never sat heterosexually naked with someone?”

“I think I’d rather go back to hunting spiders, bye!”

“Earth to Wally!” Muffins snaps me out of my thoughts. “Do you always blush and zone out when someone mentions–”

“Yes,” I reply, smiling sheepishly. “I mean, no. Usually not. I think I’ll go to sleep.”

“Yeah, same here,” Muffins replies. “We need to get up early tomorrow and get The Great Roberto to the fair.”

Easier said than done. Once the lights are out, I start tossing and turning in my bed. Normally, I’d just have a session with my electric toothbrush and call it a day, but I have no idea whether Muffins is a light sleeper or not. 

Eventually, I do fall asleep, or at least I think so, because the things I see are too weird to be real. It must be a dream and it’s quite an interesting one, in which I find Lily’s pills. I look at the label, but instead of the list of side effects there’s only ‘eat me’ written there.

Well, I guess that’s some Alice in Chains level stuff. Wait, I’m wrong. I totally meant Alice in Wonderland, although the one in chains probably works too, on some level. Of course, I eat those pills; it’s a dream, it’s better not to question its logic.

Everything gets bigger, then it gets smaller and soon I live in a Monopoly hotel and hunt spiders with a spear made from a toothpick. I meet a caterpillar that looks totally like Roseluck and see goats grazing on some meadow, where Muffins and Daisy play croquet. Yeah, that’s most definitely a dream. 

My eyes shoot open. The room is dark and quiet, except for Muffins' snoring. When I grab my phone to check what time it is, she lifts her head slightly, though her eyes are still closed.

“You need to aim for the machine gun port,” she says. “One shot and the whole tank goes up in flames.”

Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind next time I encounter a tank. I turn to face the wall and close my eyes. Tomorrow’s gonna be an important day and I’m not even anxious.

Wait.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?
> 3. Wallflower’s Stash
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don’t quite remember waking up. I mean, I’m pretty sure Muffins woke me up and then I spent a while looking for my clothes. Then Roseluck burst in, wearing only a skirt and a bra, complaining about her luggage getting lost or something. She suspected that Lily and Daisy found her tops to be a source of the spider infestation and probably burned them.

Eventually, we found Roseluck’s missing bag in the van and, after she finally got dressed, we were kind of ready for breakfast.

Kind of, because I’m still scared. I mean, there are gonna be people there, right? Looking at me and my precious bonsai tree? I’m pretty sure The Great Roberto doesn’t enjoy being watched either.

“Wally, are you okay?” Muffins asks. 

“She’s been hit by a smooth criminal,” Lily replies.

“Nah, I’m fine,” I say with a chuckle. “Why do you think I’m not okay?”

“You were contemplating your scrambled eggs for the last ten minutes,” Daisy replies. 

“Yeah, are you gonna eat this?” Lily looks at my plate. “If not, then I can take it.”

I smile at her. “I’ll eat it, don’t worry. I just, uhh… I don’t really like crowds.”

“Just imagine they’re goats.” Daisy shrugs. “It works for me.”

“How is that supposed to help?” I ask. “I mean, maybe it works for you, but I’m also terrified of animals.”

“Same here.” Lily is still looking at my plate, so I start eating. “Especially bunnies. But don’t worry, I have pills for that.”

“I’m pretty sure taking someone else’s pills is one of those things we’re not supposed to do at home,” Muffins says. “Along with building a replica of a bouncing bomb in your basement or putting rockets on your bicycle.”

“Well, we’re not at home,” Lily replies. “And I’m pretty sure it’s the same pills Wallflower already had, right?”

“Possibly,” I reply. “I mean, how many different ones are out there? And even then, most of them just have different names.” 

“I only got some pills for ADHD as a kid,” Muffins says. “But that was before I blew up the garden shed and the school psychologist decided to go to Hawaii and become a fisherman.”

Oh, the horror. “Stay out of my shed, then. And my garden. I know what you did there.” 

“Oh, so she told you about Flash Sentry?” Roseluck asks. 

“I’d like to remind you that you didn’t bring Doc to this garden only because he’s our physics teacher,” Muffins replies, throwing Roseluck an askew glance. “Also, he likes me more anyway.”

“Keep on dreaming,” Roseluck mutters. “Also, you have a boyfriend, don’t you?”

“I’d be more comfortable if you didn’t bring your boyfriends, girlfriends, crushes, and friends with benefits to bang in my garden,” I say, trying desperately to sound serious and mildly threatening. “Though I’ll really start to worry if Daisy brings a goat in there.”

“Why would I bang a goat?” Daisy asks. Way too loudly. Several people at other tables are looking at us. We mostly try not to look at each other. “I never hit any of my goats, even if they misbehave.”

Lily sighs with relief. “Good for you.”

“Though we could bring them to graze there.” Daisy smiles sheepishly. “Fluttershy really likes them.”

I rub my temples. Why am I even here? I could’ve spent a regular weekend at home, playing video games and reading obscure manga, but no, I just had to come here. 

“They could also fertilise the lawn.”

“Oh yeah, that will discourage Muffins from rolling in the grass with Flash,” I mutter. The people at other tables are still looking at us, probably waiting for someone to get back to the topic of goats. 

“Wally, don’t be such a Wally Gator,” Muffins says. “You’ve never even noticed we were there.”

“Yes, but now I know and that’s disturbing,” I reply. “Now I can’t sit anywhere because it may be where–”

Muffins smirks. “Well, I can tell–”

“No!” 

“What’s wrong about a good roll in the grass, though?” Daisy asks. 

“Nothing, it’s just Wallflower being, as Muffins put it, a Wally Gator,” Lily replies. “You need to chill out. Maybe bring someone to your garden yourself.”

“I suggested Valhallen already,” Muffins said. 

“Okay, so it all boils down to me needing to get laid?” I ask.

Daisy raises her eyebrows. “In the grass?” 

“I’d prefer a bed, thank you,” I reply. “Though you’re most definitely not my type.”

“Aww… why?” 

I turn to Lily. “Do I have to explain it to her?”

“If you have an hour to spare.” Lily shrugs. “But you can also eat a Snickers or get some pills.”

“Is drinking Kool-Aid an option?” I ask. “Then I wouldn’t have to have this conversation. Or any conversation, for that matter.”

“Hey, no need to make it dark,” Muffins says. 

“My life is already dark,” I reply. “I’m freaking out over a bonsai fair and people having sex in my garden.”

“Ah, so you meant sex?” Daisy asks.

In the ensuing silence, I can hear Lily dropping a spoon. Not just when the spoon hits the table; I can hear when she releases it and the air flowing around it as it falls. 

“You know–”

“Of course I know, I live on a farm,” Daisy replies. “It’s just, you all talk in stupid metaphors! Goats are much more straightforward.”

I look around to see that the people at other tables are still listening. Well, most of them as one woman is covering her kid’s ears. 

“Daisy, we’re glad you know, but please, don’t ever mention goats in this context,” Lily says. “At least not in a polite company.”

Daisy nods. “So I can do it around you?” 

“Yes, but think of the children,” I reply. “Also, I’m still worried about that bonsai fair.”

“No worries, we’ll be with you,” Roseluck says. I can’t help but notice that she kicks Lily in the ankle under the table. Lily, who was just reaching to her pocket, shoots her a glare. 

We finish our breakfast and I start considering my options. There are actually quite a few of them, but most of them include either running away to my room, locking the door, and never coming out or lying on the floor in a fetal position. Or, alternatively, learning to drive, stealing the van, and hoping there are no chicken coops on the way. 

When we’re in the lobby, I mutter something about having to fetch the Great Roberto. Roseluck and Muffins decide to go to the car, but I know their true idea – they spotted that there are some pool tables in the hotel and they want to see if there’s a chance to get one for the whole evening. 

To be honest, I’ve never expected Muffins to be a pool shark. Also, I’ve never actually played, so I guess I’ll accidentally kill someone with the cue. Just my luck. 

“You okay there?” Lily asks. I never noticed she was still standing next to me. Daisy went off somewhere, so we’re alone. I don’t think this ever happened before – there was always someone else with us. 

I roll my eyes. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” 

“No offense, but you’re pretty good at looking not okay,” Lily replies with a chuckle. “And trust me, I know a thing or two about that.”

“Bunnies?” I ask. 

“Oh, don’t get me started on them.” Lily shudders. “I’m probably not the only person who watched Watership Down while being a bit too young for it. Can you imagine that?”

“Not really. As a kid, I really liked The Brave Little Toaster.” I smile a little bit, trying to stay on this topic, but nothing really comes to my mind. Well, some things do, but Lily really doesn’t have to know that if modern toasters accidentally fall into the bathtub, they are only going to cause a power outage in the entire building. Though given the lights go out, there’s that brief moment when you’re just not sure if you’re still alive. 

“I’ll have to check it out,” Lily says. “Anyway, are you sure you’re fine?”

“You’re not helping by constant asking,” I reply. Seriously, the day when someone who spent a half of the night looking for spiders under her bed starts giving me life advice, I may just start looking for a new toaster. 

“Don’t worry.” Lily lowers her voice to a whisper. “I still have my pills if you want them. Just don’t tell Roseluck.”

“Well, now I’m worried,” I say. “Are those even legal?”

She smiles sheepishly. “In most places that matter.”

“Like where?” I ask. “The red light district of Amsterdam?” 

“Been there,” Lily replies. “Well, Amsterdam at least. I was more interested in tulips than red lights, but whatever rocks your boat.” She shrugs. “Though now that I think about it, if I told Daisy back then that we could go to the red lights district, she’d think we’d spend a lot of time in a car, not being able to get anywhere.”

“That’s Daisy for you.” I shrug. “I guess I’ll take those pills of yours. It’s better than spending the whole day worrying.”

“Worry no more.” Lily grabs a box of pills from her pocket. I look at it, remembering my dream. There’s no ‘eat me’ on the label, but still, they don’t look like anything I’ve ever had. But then, Lily takes them and she’s fine.

Wait, what if I’m allergic? And I didn’t need anything for anxiety for a while, so if I’m not used to them, the effects may be interesting. 

All those thoughts came to me after I swallowed the pill. Way too late, I’d say, as the next fifteen minutes showed.

Okay, the scrambled eggs didn't come back to me, so that’s a plus. However, let me tell you: either my therapist sucked or those aren’t the pills I was looking for. At least that’s what the caterpillar sitting in the hotel’s lobby and smoking a hookah told me. 

I thanked the caterpillar for the advice and went back to my room. It’s interesting, my parents always warned me about strangers offering me drugs when I was a kid and I only met one when almost out of high school. Though then, I kinda know Lily now, so is she a stranger? I ask The Great Roberto about that and he says that species must constantly adapt, evolve, and proliferate in order to survive while pitted against ever-evolving opposing species. I guess he knows what he’s saying, being a bonsai tree, after all. 

I feel like I’m getting bigger. Or maybe smaller. I look through the window and well, the weather seems interesting. ‘Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. And, for the love of everything sacred, don’t get me started on the borogroves or I’ll go full ‘off with his head!’. 

“Hey, Wallflower, we’re waiting for you!” Roseluck walks into the room. It’s interesting that you often see Roseluck without the grin, but not the grin without Roseluck. “What’s going on?”

“I’m in Wonderland,” I reply. 

Roseluck furrows her eyebrows. Now she does look like a very angry cat. She storms off, but comes back after a few minutes—or maybe hours?—dragging Lily along with her.

“What did you give to her?” she asks. “Acid?”

“Nah, it’d work much too long,” Lily replies. “She’ll be fine soon.” 

“Well, this doesn’t make me any calmer!” Roseluck exclaims. “Give me those pills! Are you crazy? I thought that after I accidentally ate those you stopped making them, but no!” She yanks the package out of Lily’s hands and walks to the bathroom with them. After a while, I hear the sound of the toilet flushing. 

Roseluck comes back. “I thought that since you eat those too, they’re legit,” she says to Lily. “But of course you eat this stuff like candy, idiot, don’t you?” She turns to me. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I reply, even though I can still hear that the Great Roberto is enjoying the whole situation way too much. Should bonsai trees talk? I have a feeling that they shouldn’t. I get up, grab the expensive pot and walk out of my room, trying to push the oddities into the corners of my mind. 

“And be sure we’ll talk about it,” Roseluck pushes Lily out of the room and turns to me. “Can you act in a non-suspicious way?”

“If I don’t listen to the caterpillars, then yes.” I’m not sure I can see Roseluck properly. I mean, it still looks like a grin without Roseluck. Still holding the Great Roberto, we walk out of the room.

“Also, what’s wrong with you?” Roseluck rolls her eyes as we walk down the stairs. “Do you take roofies from anyone you meet or do I have to buy you a drink first?”

“Do you know that no one ever bought me a drink?” I ask. “If you swing that way, you may be my first.”

“I don’t swing that way, you’re high, and from what Muffins told me, you don’t swing that way either.” Roseluck sighs. “Also, we’re students. At best, I can buy you chocolate milk.”

“Yes, please,” I reply. 

Roseluck sighs. “Maybe after the bonsai fair, assuming you behave and don’t start claiming that the trees conspire to kill us.”

“I’ll try,” I reply, trying to fend off the borogroves while also watching the looming shadow of the Jabberwock. We get to the car, away from this whole fey stuff. Lily drives us to the large square – I’m pretty sure normally it’s a marketplace, but today it’s just full of bonsai trees enthusiasts from like, half of the country. 

I never thought there were so many of them. Lily apparently also didn’t count for that, as the free parking spots are, to put it mildly, rather scarce. In fact, there are almost none at all. 

“Oh, come on!” Lily exclaims, banging her hands against the steering wheel. “Screw this, I’m parking there.” She points at the only empty spot which, unfortunately for us, is for disabled drivers only. “If someone asks, we’ll show them, uhh…” She looks at Muffins and shrugs. “Daisy.”

“Hey!” Daisy shouts. Lily ignores her, trying to fit the van in the spot. Suddenly, however, we’re blocked by a large motorcycle with a sidecar. In the sidecar, there’s a bonsai tree, neatly fastened to the seat with seatbelts. 

The motorcycle owner, however, doesn’t look like a typical gardener. It’s an extremely tall woman wearing a leather jacket. When she removes her helmet, I see that she has a dark, purple skin and rose hair. I’m not sure how it fit under the helmet and I’m too afraid to ask. She also has a large scar across her face, running around her right eye and down on her cheek. Under her jacket, I can see a white, sleeveless shirt and way more tattoos than one person should have.

Lily opens the window. “Hey, it’s our spot!” she shouts. Considering the size of the biker, this may count as a suicide attempt.

“Oh really?” She gets off the motorcycle, walks to our van and, believe it or not, pulls Lily out of the van through the window. I never knew this was possible. “Listen up, punk,” she says. “Would you like to be in my place?” She points at the blue badge attached to her motorcycle. “I can help you with that. Good advice: after I shoot you in the knee, go to Ireland. The doctors there know how to fix that since that’s where IRA would issue warning shots.”

“I’d rather look for a different parking lot, thank you,” Lily replies in an unnaturally high-pitched and fast voice. 

“Kids these days.” The biker shakes her head and drops Lily. “In Chechnya, after you threaten to shoot someone in the knee, they flip you off.” She shrugs. “Well, sometimes they’d yell ‘gerza ma tooghalah’!’. After a while, someone told me that it meant ‘don’t shoot’.”

“Yeah, I’d totally look for another spot.” Lily smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry, we didn’t know you were, uhh… disabled. It’s not really obvious, you know…”

I wish she’d shut up. At least when I’m in danger, I either run or look for the memory stone. Talking isn’t going to help, unless she wants help in meeting saint Peter. 

“Uhh… How are you even disabled?” Lily whispers. Oh great, now she’s gonna kill us all. 

“I have a very short fuse,” the biker replies. “Bonsai trees calm me down, so get lost before I tell you what I did while serving under General Storm King back in–”

“Yeah, we’re not into war stories,” Muffins says, opening the door and pulling Lily inside. “Let’s get out of here.”

Eventually, we find a free spot on the other side of the street, next to a bank. Some of the gardeners had a similar idea – there are a few rusty vans standing there already, including one that looks a bit like ours. When we get out with The Great Roberto, I take a look inside and I guess I’m still high because I could swear the driver is a clown. 

I really preferred Alice in Wonderland, to be honest. 

We get back to the Bonsai Fair and find our place. The whole market is pretty crowded, but for once I don’t mind. In fact, I’m zoning out more often than not and I keep seeing people dressed as playing cards who play croquet, but at least I’m quite sure they aren’t real.

Some bonsai enthusiasts stop by to take a look at The Great Roberto. I recognise a guy with glasses thick as bottle bottoms – he frequently hangs out on the same gardening forum as I do and his knowledge of soil acidity is legendary. There’s also that thin guy from Castle Rock, who seems to know everything about pruning. I try to stay focused while answering questions.

“You know, I always preferred the informal upright style.”

I raise my head to see the same woman we met at the car park. Lily hides under the table, but the woman pays no attention to her. She probably didn’t notice me before as I was in the back of the van.

“Yeah, the curves make it more interesting,” I reply. 

She looks at The Great Roberto. “I’ve never seen such a tree before. Is it some kind of cypress?”

“Yes, it’s hinoki cypress, Chamaecyparis obtusa,” I say. “I got it from Japan.”

Well, kind of. Long story short, I told Muffins that I’d need a new bonsai tree. Muffins told someone called Indigo Zap, who told Bulk Biceps—well, at least I know who he is—who told Sandalwood, the guy who I feel I should know, but I don’t. His cousin, someone called Juniper Montage, who I had never seen in my life, was in Japan at the time. Unfortunately, contrary to her name—but in accordance to Muffins’ theory of names—Juniper knew pretty much nothing about bonsai trees. She was, however, a smart girl. Probably still is. Definitely not someone who’d wreak havoc around the town with a magic stone because of being a hot mess.

Anyway, she called Sandalwood, who called Bulk Biceps, who called Indigo, who called Muffins and, as a result of this chain of Chinese whispers, I got a phone call from a complete stranger at 2 AM. Time zones suck, you know? Even worse, it was a video call and trust me, you don’t want to get a video call from Japan at 2 AM, when you’re wearing SpongeBob pajamas and there’s a sin pillow in your bed. I only keep it there when I need a hug, but Juniper still noticed.

At least she told me that I have a better taste than Sunny Flare, whoever she is. 

“I’ve been to Japan once,” she says.

“To get a bonsai?” I ask.

She shows me her hand and I notice that she’s missing a part of her little finger. “No, a Yakuza boss. I don’t like to have debts.”

“Did you cut off his finger too?” Daisy asks. If it’s true that curiosity killed the cat, then I’m surrounded by feline doomers. 

“Among other things.” She shrugs. “By the way, my name’s Tempest Shadow.”

“Daisy,” Daisy replies. 

I’d rather not reveal my name to someone who looks like she murders at least six people before breakfast every day, no matter how much she likes bonsai trees. But well, what are you gonna do? “Wallflower.” 

“Rose.” Roseluck looks around to look for Lily, but she somehow disappeared in the crowd. 

“Guðrún Múffinsdottir,” Muffins says.

“What now?” I mutter. Tempest Shadow, however, doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, I’ve been to Iceland once,” she says.

“What did you do in Iceland?” Muffins asks. “Well, I haven’t been there since I was three, but still…”

“Fishing, mostly,” Tempest replies with a shrug. “It got boring quickly, but I couldn’t quite show up anywhere else back then.” She furrows her eyebrows and looks at us. “Hmm, I probably shouldn’t tell you too much.”

“You’d have to kill us?” Muffins asks.

“Please, don’t give her ideas.” I whisper. 

Tempest chuckles. “Nah, but I don’t want to ruin your day. Do any of you have cigarettes?”

“No,” I reply. 

“Too bad.” Tempest shrugs. “Catch you later, girls.”

“Well, who said gardeners are boring,” Muffins says after making sure Tempest is outside the earshot. “Do you think she waters the bonsai trees with the blood of her enemies?”

“I guess that’d be a little over-the-top.” Roseluck shrugs. “And I don’t think it’d be good for the trees.”

“You know what’d be over-the-top?” Muffins asks. “If, instead of eating girl scouts’ cookies, she’d eat girl scouts.”

“Why’d you eat girl scouts?” I ask. “Someone may eventually notice that they keep disappearing near your house. Though then, maybe you don’t have to kidnap them often. I mean, assuming an average girl scout weighs between twenty and forty kilograms… It’s a lot of meat, even without the things like bones and merit badges. If you dump it in the freezer, it can feed you for months. Of course, it must be a big freezer and it’d be better to keep it in the basement or somewhere, because–”

Roseluck furrows her eyebrows. “Quick question: are you still high?” 

I notice an interesting paradox in the crowd – while the people have moved away from us, they’re still listening to me very carefully. Just great, I’m making an idiot of myself again. 

“Not really, I think” I reply. “I was just theorizing. Of course, I wouldn’t eat girl scouts. I’d need to do something with the meat, like add juniper and smoke it in my garden shed or–”

Sometimes I hate myself. 

“No offense, but if you ever organise a barbecue, we won’t be coming,” Roseluck says. 

“I will!” Muffins exclaims. “But I want to be in charge of the food. You can get the drinks.”

“Unless they’re also made of girl scouts,” Daisy says. 

“Don’t be silly,” I reply. “What kind of a drink can you make out of a girl scout?” 

Daisy shrugs. “Beer?” 

I shake my head. This is just going way too deep for my poor mind. “Okay, I’ll better stop asking.” 

Lily walks back to us, carrying a paper bag. “Is the Bride of Frankenstein gone? I bought you some hamburgers. Also, I met a pair of lovely girl scouts and bummed some cookies from them.” 

“Girl scouts? Don’t tell Wallflower.” Muffins chuckles. “Also, The Bride of Frankenstein went off to get cigarettes.”

“You didn’t put anything in those cookies, did you?” Roseluck asks. 

“Nah, I know you’d rip my ass off if I did.” Lily shrugs. “Also, I saw some clowns hanging out at the parking lot. It’s like 2016 all over again.”

“Great, so I’m not the only one seeing them.” I smirk. “I saw one in a van that was kinda like ours and it was like something out of a horror story.”

“Remember that it’s Lily who also sees clowns.” Roseluck rolls her eyes. “Maybe you’re both high.”

“I haven’t seen a clown either and I have a rather wide visual field.” Muffins chuckles. “Also, remember the ‘Wild Wasteland’ perk from Fallout? I have that in real life. Maybe Wallflower does too.”

Roseluck shrugs. “I haven’t played Fallout, so the reference is lost on me. Just like about any video game reference.” She shrugs again and takes a bite of her hamburger. “I only played Farmville.”

“At least you didn’t send a Farmville request to Principal Celestia, like Twilight.” Muffins chuckles. “Now that was epic. Also, after the fair we need to go and look for clowns. Maybe it’s some weird Dunwich tradition. Or maybe we’ll find Wallflower some clown boyfriend.”

I furrow my eyebrows. “I might be single, but I have standards! Why would I get a clown boyfriend?”

“You don’t have issues with Halloween disguises anymore,” Muffins replies, looking at her hamburger. “You either get matching outfits or you go as Harley Quinn and call it a day.” She takes a bite. “Nice, extra bacon.”

I sigh. “That’s not a good reason.” 

“Bacon?” Muffins asks.

“No, Harley Quinn’s disguise.”

“Running around with a baseball bat is not a good reason?” Muffins shrugs. “Your standards are really high.”

“Might be too cold for that in October, though.” Lily shrugs, looking at the crowd around us. I guess she’s still watching out for Tempest Shadow. I look at the Great Roberto, but it doesn’t seem like he needs watering or anything. Since we stopped talking about girl scouts, people are not afraid to approach us again. Soon, I have to focus on answering questions. At least Muffins helps me, though she can’t resist adding some bizarre pieces of advice.

“Help your tree so it can help you,” she says to a pair of bespectacled twins who introduced themselves as Spring Clean and May Queen. “Don’t water it after midnight and remember to say ‘namaste’ every time you visit it.”

“Do I need to get a deer scarer?” Spring Clean asks. Or maybe it’s May Queen.

“Of course,” Muffins replies. “Bonsai trees are scared of deers. Also, you need to take it to hot springs twice a year.”

“So it can bathe there?” Let’s assume it was May Queen who said that. 

“No, look at the pretty girls.” Muffins shrugs. “Or boys, if your tree is female.”

Spring Clean and May Queen look at each other, unsure if she’s joking. Or maybe they just think we’re all nuts. 

“Okay, but what about the rest of the garden?” Spring Clean asks. “Like, if there’s a bustle in my hedgerow?”

“Don’t be alarmed now,” Roseluck replies. 

We talk for a while, take some photos, and they move on, probably finding someone whose advice is more useful than ‘when all you have is a hammer, repair your garden shed and at least buy a lawnmower’ or ‘speak softly and carry a big stick. You never know when you’ll need a spare rake handle’. 

Eventually, the first day of the fair comes to an end. There’s some kind of party planned by the patrons and even though I stopped seeing Alice in Wonderland characters popping out from random places, I’m not sure if I want to go. I definitely had enough of social interaction for one day and we’re probably too young to go to the pub anyway. Lily, however, has another idea.

“I wonder if there’s gonna be an orgy,” she says when we put The Great Roberto back in the van. Guess he’s as tired as me – after all he was in the centre of attention for the whole day.

“Getting to the point, huh?” Muffins asks, looking at the group of people next to us; they’re choosing which bar to go to. “Although remember, those people plant bonsai trees. Do you think they have time for orgies?” She turns to me. “Wally, you’re into bonsai trees the most. Do you have time for orgies?”

“Is that a general question or an invitation?” I ask with a chuckle. “Trust me, you don’t want to hear about this from me.” 

Seriously, I have some really foul habits and the closest to an orgy I was when I switched hands once. Also, I couldn’t get laid even when using the memory stone, so go figure. 

“What’s an orgy?” Daisy asks.

“You won’t fool us again.” Lily rolls her eyes. “We know that you know.”

“Ah, so it’s about sex again.” Daisy sighs. “Do you ever think about anything else?”

Roseluck nods. “She wonders how to make my life miserable again, I guess. Also, Lily, if you’re going to a party, remember that Tempest may also be there. If she stabs you, I call dibs on the van.”

“You’re not getting my–” Lily bumps into some guy, or rather he bumps into her; I’d say he was jogging, but I don’t think anyone wears a clown outfit while jogging. Unless I’m hallucinating again. 

“Hey, watch out!” Lily exclaims. She grabs the car keys and her phone from the ground while the clown is gathering his belongings – among them some hot dogs from the nearby food truck. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry!” The clown gets up and runs off somewhere. 

“Did you also see him?” I ask.

“Why would someone wear a clown outfit while jogging?” Muffins shrugs. 

“Okay, so you did,” I say. “Now, what was the clown doing there? Anyone got any ideas?”

“Looking for his friends?” Daisy points at the bank behind us. Two more clowns run out of it, while another one jumps out of the sewer and rushes to one of the vans parked nearby. He yanks the door handle, but it doesn’t budge. Is it some kind of a flash mob or other performance?

The clown who previously bumped into Lily produces the car keys and pushes the button. Now it’s clear why the other guy couldn’t get into his car – flashing turn signals reveal that it was the wrong one. The clowns look at each other and hop into the right van before driving off with the sound of the screeching tyres.

“Talk about the clown car,” Lily shrugs. “Now, are we going to the pub?”

Oh no.

“Oh yes!” Muffins exclaims.
> 4. Wallflower’s Smash(ed)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure you can do this?” I ask, looking at Muffins unsurely. “It looks quite big.”

“Of course,” Muffins replies. “I’ve been training with Flash, you know. He’s pretty good at this.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t get to know him from this side. And it’s not like he remembers ever meeting me. Still, I don’t think you can handle this.” 

“We can bet.” Roseluck smirks. “You know it can spread quite a lot.”

“I’m not that experienced, frankly.” I smile sheepishly. Seriously, I forget about it more often than not. Healthy lifestyle is just not something you consider when you’re, well, me.

“Yeah, my stomach is pretty stretchy.” Muffins replies, staring at the Dunwich Horror – an absolute monstrosity of a sandwich consisting of like, a gigantic bread roll filled with bacon, ham, pickles, three kinds of cheese, four kinds of lettuce, tomatoes, and various sauces. It’s apparently a local pub’s specialty, or rather a trap for adventurous tourists. The whole thing is bigger than my head and if you manage to eat it, you get a t-shirt that says ‘I beat the meat’ and a nice photo on the wall of the pub. And then probably a long night in the toilet.

“You should probably try it too, Wally,” Daisy says. “You look like you could eat a sandwich.” 

“I’d rather settle on something smaller.” I reply. Well, last thing I ate was a hamburger and I’m rather hungry after the day of seeing things and interacting with people. I decide to go and order something.

By the bar, I meet Tempest Shadow. I expected her to eat something like steak tartare while drinking vodka from a beer tankard, but she’s just having a salad and some cider. 

“Hi,” she says. “Having fun?” 

“Yeah, kinda.” I try to smile, but I’m pretty sure I fail at that. “How about you?”

“Well, it’s better than some bars I’ve been to, although the den in Bombay was kinda fun.” She looks at her salad. “Not so fun for my lungs, I guess. And I don’t think they call it Bombay anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I reply, wondering what to order. Eventually I settle for a smaller version of The Dunwich Horror. 

“It’s interesting that everyone still uses my old tricks,” Tempest says with a humourless chuckle.

“What do you mean?” I ask. Well, I’m waiting for a sandwich anyway, so I might as well engage in smalltalk like a normal person. 

“A transport of gold that disappeared from a bank in Tiraspol.” Tempest shrugs and takes a swig of her cider. “The guys dressed as a construction team parked a van in front of a bank on the weekend, when it was closed. Then they just went to the sewers, made a nice hole in the wall, dug a tunnel to the bank’s basement, disabled the alarm, and picked up the gold at their leisure.”

“How do you know?” I ask. Did I mention I wanted a normal conversation?

Tempest chuckles. “I still have that pickaxe. And some worthless Transnistrian rubles.”

“Is Count Dracula still looking for his gold?” I ask. When the situation gets uncomfortable, it’s best to make a joke. Or so I’ve heard.

“Transnistria, not Transylvania.” Tempest rolls her eyes. “As for the gold, let’s say that it wasn’t the best idea to make a run for Italy only to get lost in Bosnia back then. That’s why you should stay in school and learn geography.”

“I was always more into biology.” Seriously, where’s my sandwich? I want to get out of here. 

“Speaking of, they seem like a bunch of amateurs.” Tempest sighs. “Seriously, clowns? Why not Salvador Dali outfits? And on the day when there’s a bunch of bonsai nerds hanging around? Not to mention that their driver thinks with his stomach. You may have met him.”

I nod. “Oh yeah, he bumped into Lily.”

“If they want to do another bank, they should get rid of him.” 

“Good thing it’s their problem, not mine.” I grab my sandwich and go back to the table where Muffins is in the middle of the fight against the Dunwich Horror. 

Given that the sandwich looks like something Shaggy and Scooby Doo put together during a particularly bad fit of munchies, I kind of expected her to just swallow it whole, but she split it into several portions and eats each of them like a professional competitive eater. Maybe she’s one, who knows. When it comes to Muffins, I can believe pretty much anything. 

“Are you really gonna eat all that?” I ask. My sandwich is pretty tasty, but if it was any bigger, I’d probably spend the next few days lying down like an anaconda after eating a capybara or something. 

“It’s all a matter of technique,” Muffins replies, wiping the sauce off her face. “Also, I’m thin so my stomach can expand more. Pinkie wasn’t happy when I ate more cupcakes than her once.”

“So you do this professionally?” I’m pretty sure there are better career paths. Like, this can’t be healthy. If only because of the amount of exercise she needs to do to stay in shape. 

Or maybe I’m just biased because I’m getting short of breath on the way from the changing room to the gym. 

“Nah, I’d rather not,” Muffins replies. “It always reminds me of that story Applejack told me. They went to Mexico with Rainbow Dash and they accidentally met Indigo Zap.”

I’d ask who Indigo Zap is, but then I remember that she apparently drives like crazy, couldn’t steal a school bus, watches crappy horror movies, dates Bulk Biceps, and is pocket-sized. That’s a lot, given that I’ve never met her in my life. 

“They ate some Carolina Reaper peppers on a dare.” Muffins takes another bite of her sandwich. “Apparently it was fine when they ate it, but not as fine when it came out, you know…”

“Muffins, stop before I lose my appetite,” Daisy mutters. 

“Yeah, the last thing we need is imagining Rainbow Dash in the toilet,” Roseluck says.

Daisy furrows her eyebrows. “You just had to say that, didn’t you?”

“Well, Muffins doesn’t mind.” Roseluck points at Muffins, who’s currently finishing another bit of her sandwich. There’s still about a half left, but Muffins doesn’t seem to be fazed by it at all. In fact, she burps and grabs another bit of the sandwich.

“I haven’t seen that much ham since the cafeteria ran out of peanut butter crackers and Trixie had a fit,” she says. “Hmm, extra bacon. Also, I don’t mind being told about gross things while eating. I mean, have you ever eaten hákarl?”

“What?” I ask. 

“Fermented and dried shark meat.” Muffins shrugs. “It’s better than it sounds. Or smells. Or tastes. I mean, it kind of smells like ammonia and rotten fish.”

Lily winces. “I don’t think anything edible should smell like this.” 

“We should go to Iceland one day. I’d show you volcanoes.” Muffins smiles. “If you read Verne, then you may remember that Snæfellsjökull showed up in Journey to the Centre of the Earth, and of course everyone remembers Eyjafjallajökull…”

I swear, she didn’t even stutter on those names. Also, I hope no one makes me climb a volcano. Knowing my luck, it’d explode or something, and I don’t wanna be remembered as someone who got fried in lava, Gollum-style. 

I finish my sandwich while looking at Muffins struggling against her food. Apparently the roll itself is the biggest problem, mainly because chewing through it all is a challenge. 

“My jaw hurts a bit,” Muffins says when I ask her about it. “But other than that, it’s fine.”

“You’re not gonna throw up? I’d like to remind you that we share a room,” I say. To think about it, if she does, it’ll be easier to hold her hair back so she doesn’t get it dirty. I don’t have such luck, but at least no one remembers those situations but me.

“And let all this food go to waste?” Muffins takes another bite of the sandwich. “Never.” She looks at the plate and smirks. “Guess we’re getting a selfie soon.”

“Yay!” Lily exclaims. “Just because you ate it?”

“Well, of course.” Muffins points at the cork board on the wall, with several Polaroid photos of people who successfully defeated the Dunwich Horror. Some of them look like they’re about to throw up; maybe one of them is as happy as Muffins, but according to the label, this photo is from 1987. Time to add another one to the list, I guess.

“Okay, I’m done.” Muffins burps. “What’s for dessert?”

“You want dessert too?” Roseluck shudders. “I wouldn’t eat anything for three days if I were you.”

“Of course,” Muffins replies. “There’s a separate stomach for desserts, don’t you know?”

“I don’t think it works that way.” Daisy says. A waitress approaches us with a Polaroid camera which is probably older than her. Muffins gets her t-shirt and immediately puts it on. Yes, it does say ‘I beat the meat’. I’m not sure I’d dare to even sleep in this one, but some people have no shame, I guess. 

Hmm, if I were a guy, sleeping in that t-shirt would be quite accurate. I mean, that’s what I usually do before falling asleep. 

Huh, who’s shameless now?

The camera flash almost blinds me. When I regain my sight, the waitress is already giving us a copy of the photo. I look pretty stupid, but at least I am in the picture. In twenty years, I’m gonna show it to my kids. Or, more likely, my cats. Muffins probably also thinks something along these lines – she grabs her phone and calls someone. From the context, I guess it’s Flash Sentry. She’s telling him that they need to bring their kids to this pub one day. I’m pretty sure the guy just started to book the plane somewhere far away. 

“Hmm, we’d better check on The Great Roberto,” I say. The party’s getting wilder and the last thing I need is vodka, dancing on the table, and flashing your boobs to strangers. Not that it ever happened before, but better safe than sorry. 

“Yeah.” Muffins stands up and pats her stomach. “I could use a little walk before the party goes really crazy.”

“Those are gardeners,” Lily says as we try to get through the crowd. “How crazy can they get?” 

Muffins shrugs. “Either they’ll get into a fight over bonsai trees or someone will flash her boobs to everyone. By someone, I may or may not mean myself.”

Oh boy, here we go. Isn’t Iceland, like, too cold for such things? Though then, it’s Scandinavia. They probably sit in some sauna or something and then run around naked in the snow. 

On a second thought, this may be Finland. And I should really stop imagining Muffins doing that. 

Finally we get out of the pub. The air is kinda chilly, which manages to stop my inappropriate thoughts. We walk across the parking lot. I look at the bank, thinking about what Tempest told me.

“Wait.” Roseluck looks at the van we left in the parking lot. “It’s not our van.”

“What are you talking about?” Muffins asks. “The clowns had a similar one, but they  took it and it must be ours. They had the keys, remember?”

“Yes, but our van had a bumper sticker,” Roseluck replies. “Some kind of a chicken.”

“It was a griffon, you moron.” Lily sighs. 

Muffins walks to the van. “Maybe it fell off. Let’s see if it’s ours.”

Lily produces the keys, immediately furrowing her eyebrows. “That’s not my keychain,” she says. Yeah, her keychain was some kind of a skull, but this is clearly Koro-sensei from Assassination Classroom. I guess at least one of the clowns was a fan. “It’s some weird yellow octopus.”

“Yeah, it’s Koro-sensei,” I reply because well, we finally reached the area of my expertise. “He blew up like half of the moon and wants to do the same to Earth. But he’s also a teacher.”

“What?” Lily looks at me unsurely. 

“I can see that.” Muffins chuckles. “I mean, I can imagine Miss Cheerilee doing that.”

“To stop him, his students must kill him,” I say.

“Nah, we’re not killing Miss Cheerilee.” Roseluck furrows her eyebrows. “No matter if she wants to blow up the Earth or just Big Mac. Though in the latter case there’d be no ‘up’.”

“After we’re done, you can have this keychain.” Lily rolls her eyes and unlocks the van. “Let’s see, it must be ours.” She opens the door. “Oh, are you kidding me?”

I take a peek inside. Well, something is definitely wrong here. Like, I thought no one puts money in bags anymore, especially the ones with a big dollar sign in the front. And yet, there’s inexplicably quite a few such bags in the van. In fact, it’s full of them and I hope no one’s looking at us because I’m pretty sure this is not legal. Like, isn’t it the money from the bank?

Muffins walks to the nearest bag and opens it. There are bank notes inside, of course. Yay, we’re rich… and probably getting arrested soon. 

“What do we do with this?” Daisy looks at the money. “I know of a shelter for rescued goats which desperately needs money.”

“As long as we leave enough for us to go to Bahama Islands,” Lily smirks. “Who needs school if you can just sit in the sun, right, Wally?” 

I start to think about the possibilities. On one hand, that’s a lot of money and we didn’t actually steal it. The clowns got the wrong van; that’s an honest mistake.

“Wait!” A tiny voice in my head shouts. I look around and see a little Wallflower in a white robe floating in front of me. Great, I’m still high. She actually took time to comb her hair and she wears a white robe, complete with wings and a goddamn lyre. 

“Who the hell are you?” I ask. 

“I’m your conscience.” She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Do you know how hard it is?” She grabs a notebook and opens it. “I have to write monthly reports, you know? Somebody up there must be reading them because I didn’t get a raise in years!” She flips a page. “January: Lust, Sloth, Envy. February: Lust, Sloth, Wrath, Envy. March: Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Envy. April: Envy, Wrath, Lust. Afterwards, at least you eased up on Envy, but still you tick all the boxes except Pride. And that’s just the deadly sins. How am I going to explain such a blatant display of Greed?” She conjures a bottle out of thin air and takes a long swig. 

“I’m sorry, I mean…” I furrow my eyebrows. “Wait, gluttony? Seriously? What would you say about Muffins?”

“We don’t talk about her guardian angel.” My conscience sighs. “Poor girl is having a panic attack anytime she sees a bicycle.”

“Well, well, well…” Another voice calls. I look to my left and see another Wallflower. This one has horns and her hair is actually made of vines, surrounding her like tentacles. She wears a skimpy outfit and looks like a mashup of me and Gaea Evefree drawn by an insane mangaka. “I see you’re still trying to lead her down the path of righteousness.” She turns to me. “I’ll lead you down the path that rocks!”

“I’d ask who you are, but I think I get the idea,” I say. “I guess you think we should take the money?”

The evil me grins. “Of course! We could make a big garden with it! And then we could hire some hookers so you could roleplay your favourite anime scenes with them!”

“Oh, don’t remind me about anime.” My conscience shudders. “Some things just cannot be unseen.”

“Oh, you won’t be able to unsee much, much more.” The evil Wallflower lets out a particularly villainous laugh. I’m pretty sure she practices in front of the mirror. Assuming she can actually see her reflection. “Come on! Don’t you want to be rich?” 

Yeah, get rich or die tryin’. So far, I’m much closer to the latter. 

“I’d like to remind you that those guys have The Great Roberto,” my conscience says, crossing her arms. “And I don’t think they know much about caring for bonsai trees. I mean, they messed up a simple heist.”

“Wait, you’re right!” I exclaim. “I forgot about The Great Roberto!” 

“Who are you talking to?” Daisy asks, giving me that kind of look one usually gets before calling the police or paramedics. Trust me, I know that look. Some of my memory stone antics weren’t exactly pretty.

“What?” I try to give her a look suggesting that she’s seeing things, but I guess my kung-fu is too weak for that. 

“You kind of zoned out and then you shouted ‘wait, you’re right!’ to no one in particular.” Lily shrugs. “Though those guys indeed took The Great Roberto with them.”

“We need to find him!” I exclaim. “We have to drive to them and ask to give him back! And then we can give them the money.”

“Not all of it,” Roseluck replies. “I mean, we should get a half.”

“At least,” Lily says. “I say, we get sixty percent or else they won’t see any money.”

Muffins clears her throat. “I’d like to remind you that those guys robbed a bank. They may as well put us in concrete boots and throw us into the ocean.”

“Good thing Dunwich isn’t near the ocean,” Roseluck replies. “I’m afraid of drowning.”

“So they’ll just shoot us and bury us in the forest.” Muffins shrugs. “Whatever floats your boat. I guess we should call the police.”

“And they’ll keep The Great Roberto in some evidence storage?” I sigh. “Never. We need to get him back.”

“We don’t know where those clowns are, anyway.” Muffins replies. “Maybe the circus just rolled to another town or something.”

“Their car has GPS.” Daisy points at the device. “Do you think they set the home location?”

“If they did, they’re the dumbest robbers ever.” Roseluck turns the GPS on. “No way… They did this! I could rob a bank better than this!”

Lily shakes her head. “Oh, sure, and then you’d lose your nerves, get diarrhea and we’d have to find you a new pair of undies.” 

“That only happened once!” Roseluck exclaims. I really didn’t need that mental image, thank you very much. 

“Yes, but it was because you got a bit carried away with a lawnmower and mowed a patch of rhubarb.” Lily winces. “I saw and, unfortunately, smelled what you do when you feel guilty, so I don’t think you’d be able to rob a bank.”

“Do I have to remind you what happened when you found rabbits in the garden?” Roseluck asks.

Muffins groans. “Girls, we really don’t need to know this. Just don’t leave your fingerprints all over the place and call the police or something. Then we can share embarrassing stories about not making it to the toilet in time.” 

“I need The Great Roberto back,” I reply. “Maybe we’ll just drive to their place, see what it looks like and then call the police? Maybe then they’ll give us The Great Roberto.”

“You’re not afraid of clowns, are you?” Muffins asks.

Oh girl, you have no idea. With all the things I’ve been through in my life, clowns are the least of my worries. 

“Of course not,” I reply. “Why would I be afraid of clowns?” I turn to Lily. “Let’s hit the road. I want to see where those guys live.”





“Are you still not afraid?” Muffins asks me after about fifteen minutes of driving down the empty streets of Dunwich in the middle of the night. As it turns out, one of this town’s peculiarities is a huge, abandoned amusement park somewhere at the outskirts. And of course, this is exactly where the GPS leads us.

“Not bad at all,” I say, looking at the dark silhouette of a Ferris wheel and something that looks like broken tracks of a rollercoaster. There are trees growing between them and, given how big they are, the amusement park must’ve been ditched at least thirty years ago. I’d rather not be here, to be honest, but hey, those guys have The Great Roberto. “What do you think, girls?”

Only now I notice that Roseluck and Daisy are hiding in the back of the van, shivering. Lily doesn’t look much better, but at least she has the steering wheel to hold on to. 

“Why did they abandon this place?” Daisy asks.

Muffins smirks. “It was built on the Indian burial ground.”

“Maybe we’ll, uhh… come back here during the day?” Roseluck asks. “Or at least after we visit some gas station or something. I need to go to the toilet.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Lily tries to smile, but it looks like she’s going to kill Batman. “It’s just an amusement park. Nothing to worry about.”

Muffins grabs her phone and checks something. “Okay, it seems that someone fell out of a rollercoaster and snapped his neck. Then someone drowned in the swimming pool, then another guy lost his head during a bumper car ride and they closed it due to all the lawsuits. Nothing supernatural in here.”

“How do you lose your head during a bumper car ride?” I ask. 

Muffins shrugs. “I don’t know, when I ride bumper cars injuries happen to other people.”

Lily parks the van next to a rusty carousel. Empty bottles scattered around the place tell me that the local teenagers still find a lot of amusement in this park. We look around, but it’s pretty dark and there’s not a trace of clowns anywhere. 

“What do we do? Do we split up?” Daisy asks.

“Split up?” Roseluck shudders. “The horror! Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Did you know that some guy designed a rollercoaster that is supposed to kill every passenger with extreme g-forces?” Muffins smiles and kicks the carousel. “As if the normal ones weren’t crazy enough.”

“Finally something for me,” I mutter. “I like brushes with death.”

“I don’t think death likes brushes with me,” Muffins says. “Though it likes to give me signs, like when I rode a bike and fell into the well… Then Indigo came up with an idea to watch Final Destination during a movie night and now I wonder what will happen to me.” She shrugs and looks at the derelict rollercoaster. “Damn, I developed an irrational fear of toasters.”

“Don’t worry, the modern ones don’t zap you if you drop them into the water,” I say. “You just blow all the fuses.”

“Oh, so you tried to make toast in the bath too?” Muffins asks. “I once got up late and tried to take a bath and make breakfast at the same time. It didn’t go well.”

“Yeah, let’s say I did exactly that.” I nod and smile. 

Daisy looks around, startled by creaking of some old, rusty equipment. “Okay, so where are the clowns? Maybe we should stop playing Scooby-Doo and go home?”

“That’s what I was saying, but when I, for once, say something reasonable, no one listens to me.” Muffins rolls her eyes. “I’m calling the police and we call it a day.” She grabs her phone. “Oh great, no signal.”

“What?” Roseluck tries to play it cool, but I noticed that she keeps trying to hide behind someone; either Muffins or me, probably assuming that I’m not afraid. Yeah, sure, girl. In case of a monster attack, my plan is to outrun someone and hope the monster will stop chasing us after eating them.

Great, now I realised that most likely everyone will outrun me. 

“Wait, I can see a van over there,” Lily says. “See? Between the bumper cars and the house of mirrors.”

How can she see anything, I have no idea. It’s getting quite foggy, which only makes the amusement park look even creepier. I walk closer to the bumper cars track, with Roseluck following me closely. I guess she’s pretty sure that she can outrun me.

“Didn’t someone lose their head here?” she asks in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. 

“Don’t lose yours,” I reply. “You’d get blood on my sweater.”

“I was going to ask,” Muffins says. “Do you have a wardrobe full of identical sweaters or do you keep wearing the same one?” She sniffs the air. “I actually have a theory, but maybe I won’t share it.”

“Yeah, we’re in the creepiest abandoned amusement park and the thing you worry about the most is my personal hygiene.” I sigh. “If we get killed, it won’t be your pro–” Suddenly, I trip over something and fall face-first into the mud. What’s worse, I must’ve turned something on, as suddenly the lights of the bumper car track flicker, accompanied by the distorted, slowed-down rendition of Entry of the Gladiators played on the fairground organ.

It doesn’t last long, though. The speakers choke and the music dies down in throes of static, just as the lights go out. I get up and see that Roseluck is trying to catch a breath while Lily is carrying Daisy on her back – well, most likely Daisy just jumped on her.

“Okay, I don’t need to go to the toilet anymore…” Roseluck mutters.

Lily winces. “Seriously!?” She shakes Daisy off her back. “Do we need to put you back in kindergarten?”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t, like, a big deal.” Roseluck smiles sheepishly. “Still, we’d better go back to the van…”

“I’m not driving with you!” Lily exclaims.

“Girls, we probably woke up every clown in the area,” Muffins says. “Once I’m able to call the police, I’ll do this. Though I wouldn’t count on them bringing you a new pair of pants.”

“Before that happens, I want to check that van.” I walk towards the house of mirrors. For some reason, no one really follows me, though I don’t exactly blame Roseluck here. Eventually, Muffins sighs and joins me. 

That’s okay, I guess. Two dead bodies in an amusement park will look better in the news than one. 

There’s no one in the van. Not even The Great Roberto. Too bad we don’t have keys or else we could just swap the vans back. 

“Look.” Muffins points at the house of mirrors. The door is slightly ajar and it seems the light is on. I’m pretty sure I’m pushing my luck today, but we get closer to the building. Daisy, Lily, and Roseluck join us too. Can you imagine five bodies being found in an abandoned amusement park? The media will talk about us for weeks. 

I push the door open. “Is there anybody out here?” I ask.

“Are you crazy?” Lily hisses.

Never happy with me, I see. “Well, what am I supposed to say? Hello, Mr. Clown, do you maybe have my bonsai tree?” 

“It’s not like anyone’s here anyway,” Muffins says. 

Indeed. I look at the room we’re in and while it’s the house of mirrors, the mirrors are long gone. Instead, there’s a few mattresses on the floor, empty pizza boxes, and an old TV. Kinda like in my room, I’d say. There are also, however, a few submachine guns scattered around, as well as a shotgun, and an M16 rifle. Quite unlike my room, to be honest. And they bothered with digging a tunnel to the bank? They could probably just besiege the place or something.

“Seems they left in a hurry.” Daisy points at the checkerboard on the table. Apparently the clowns had no pieces, as they used ammo in their place. “They didn’t even finish the game.”

“Yeah, but maybe the guy with .45 ACP resigned,” I say. “The guy with 9x19 mm Parabellum has three kings, represented here by shotgun shells and while his opponent has one,” I point at the 5.56x45 mm NATO cartridge standing on the board, “he also has less pieces left.”

“Should I be worried?” Roseluck asks.

“That I play checkers?”

“No, that you, of all people, know the names of all those bullets.” Roseluck replies.

“Cartridges.” I take one of the .45 ACP rounds. “Bullet is just this part, but there’s also the case, rim, primer, and propellant.”

“That doesn’t make me any less worried!” Roseluck exclaims.

“Oh come on, I don’t want to shoot anyone!” I sigh. “I just get really weird YouTube recommendations.” 

I also may have tried to make a custom Counter-Strike level that’d look like Canterlot High, but Roseluck already peed her pants and I’m afraid she didn’t say the last word in this matter yet. 

In the dim light of the room I notice that I got mud all over my sweater. Damn, now I’ll have to wash it. I take it off, even though I’m pretty sure what will happen next. Muffins looks at me and I can already see it in her eyes.

“Oh, so that’s why you’re wearing a sweater,” she says, looking at me.

“Hey, don’t judge me,” I reply, looking down at my t-shirt. This one has Scrat from Ice Age on it, looking like something bad is about to happen to him. To think about it, he’s my spirit animal.

“I don’t,” Muffins replies. “I’ve seen you unpacking your clothes and I didn’t say anything, remember. Also, I really like your t-shirts, though the one with Bert and Ernie may be pushing it.”

“What’s wrong with Bert and Ernie?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Muffins shrugs. “I just never trusted Bert.”

“We can talk about it later, after we find The Great Roberto.” I look around the room. “I think the clowns may come back. Do you know how much those guns are worth?”

Lily looks at the M16. “Do you think we can sell those to some–”

Oh, come on! I’m so surrounded by idiots that soon I’ll turn into Skeletor. “It’s not a video game and we’re not stealing their guns to sell them. Especially the full-auto ones, I’m pretty sure none of them is legal.” I sigh. “Let’s see what’s in the other room.”

I push the door on the other side of the room. Hoo, boy. The good news is, I found The Great Roberto. The bad news, however, is that the clowns are also there. More exactly, one of them and he’s not very threatening at the moment.

Mostly because he’s dead. It seems that, even though the house of mirrors right now has more guns than mirrors in it, someone found it more appropriate to hit the clown with The Great Roberto’s pot. The pot, being very expensive, withstood such a hit. The clown’s skull, not so much.

“Hey, what’s going on in–” Muffins stops in her tracks. “Oh. Roseluck, don’t come here!”

“Why?” Roseluck asks, peeking inside. 

“Because your sphincters aren’t very trustworthy,” Muffins replies. Still, Roseluck takes a look at the body and grabs her stomach, wincing. 

“Did you find a dead body in there or what?” Daisy asks.

“Something like that,” Muffins replies. “Don’t move anything, it’s a crime scene or something. Let’s get out of there. Rose!”

“What?” Roseluck asks.

“If you throw up here, I’ll kick your ass. Let’s go and call the police, before–” 

Suddenly, I hear the sirens outside. Followed by the sound of a helicopter, as well as a bunch of cars braking hard in front of the house of mirrors. Strong lights nearly blind us through the windows. Just great, either some UFO just landed in this cursed amusement park or we’re getting arrested.

I’d rather prefer UFOs, to be honest. Unfortunately, the guys who burst through the door look quite like the police. If we had any doubts, the shouted orders to drop our weapons and come out with our hands in the air would quickly help us get rid of them.

“Don’t shoot!” I shout, raising my hands. 

To think about it, I’m pretty sure I look exactly like Scrat on my t-shirt.
> 5. Wallflower’s Cash
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I really didn’t think anyone still used cassette recorders. Also, I totally forgot how much sound they can record. Not that I told the policewoman everything. For starters, I decided not to mention getting high on Lily’s pills and I decided to reduce the part about Muffins eating a sandwich to an absolute minimum. When I tried to explain some anime reference, Copper Top started to yawn and roll her eyes, so I decided to continue. Normally, I’d be offended, but given that she’s armed and I’m handcuffed, I’m not quite in the position to complain.

When I finish, Copper Top flips her sunglasses and looks at me. “Okay, either all of you are nuts…” She stares at my t-shirt and sighs. “Pun not intended. Either all of you are nuts or you’re actually telling the truth. There’s no way you’d come up with such a stupid alibi. Unless…” 

I swear, she’s trying to pierce me with her gaze.

“You may have purposefully come up with such a stupid story so we’d believe that it’s too stupid to be fake.” She shrugs. “I’m pretty sure we’re actually touching some paradox here, but–”

The door to the interrogation room opens and another policeman walks in. “Excuse me, Copper, but there’s a woman here, who wants to talk with you.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “She looks like she fought a lawnmower once and I think she’s not quite right in the head, but she claims to have new evidence in your case.”

“Of course I have!” Tempest Shadow bursts into the room. “I called you in the first place.”

“You called the police?” I ask. 

“Yes, I saw that you noticed the van swap and followed you to see if you’d take the money or not,” Tempest replies. “When I saw you idiots went to the amusement park, I decided to call the police so the clowns don’t kill you all.” She looks at me and smirks. “Is it true that you killed a clown with a bonsai tree?” 

“Not us,” I reply. “He was already dead when we arrived and his friends disappeared.”

“At least we found the money in a van,” Copper Top says. “Although still, you could be their accomplice.”

“There’s a whole pub of bonsai tree fanatics that saw them sitting there when the clown got killed,” Tempest replies. “They have a photo of that blonde one after she ate the Dunwich Horror–”

“She did?” Copper Top’s eyes widen. “I tried to do that in the twelfth grade, but I threw up.”

Tempest doesn’t seem to pay attention to Copper Top’s memories. “Also, some of those guys remember seeing clowns in the car park.”

Copper Top groans. “Just great. I’ll spend the rest of the night interrogating some crazy gardeners.”

“Artists,” I reply. “The best of them, at least.”

Copper Top shakes her head. “This is the worst thing since someone was found dead in the toilet with a knife in their chest during the Dunwich Annual Checkers Festival last year.”

“Does that happen often?” I ask. 

“Once a year.” Copper Top rolls her eyes. “That’s what ‘annual’ means.”

“I meant murders.”

“Only when enough weirdos gather in one place.” Copper Top sighs and looks at me and Tempest. “Please tell me none of you play checkers.”

Well, who am I to lie to the authorities. “I do, sometimes.”

“If you come to my town again, I’m not responsible for my actions.” Copper Top looks at Tempest. “On a side note, who are you? Her mother?”

Huh. I wonder if that’d be better or worse than my current mother. I mean, my mother doesn’t have all those war stories to tell, but at least she took me to Doctor Sour Note after I briefly became interested in toasters. Tempest looks cool, but I guess she’d take me fishing or something.

Or maybe I’m talking about my dad now. He apparently didn’t get the memo that I’m not his son and he took me on a fishing trip once. I’m not sure what was worse: the fact that I nearly drowned in the lake near Camp Everfree or that I got rescued by Timber Spruce, who then made a picture of me out of macaroni. 

Too bad he couldn’t remember me later, when we went there on a school trip. Though given that it was about the time when his sister turned into a tentacle demon I can’t exactly blame him. 

“Hey, are you gonna stay here?” Tempest asks. “We’re leaving.”

I snap out of the memories of Timber Spruce and we walk out of the interrogation room. Somehow, Muffins is still chatting with some other policewoman in the corridor, but at least it looks like Roseluck got a new pair of pants. 

I’m pretty sure the previous one got definitely ruined when we got arrested.

“So, it was the middle of the Festivus party,” Muffins says to the policewoman. “And he was like, ‘I love you too, I just–’ and I was like ‘Is it because I’m not a horse?’”

“Hoo, boy.” The policewoman shakes her head.

“That’s what Sandalwood’s mother said.” Muffins smirks.

“What are you even talking about?” I ask.

Muffins points at the policewoman. “She told me to tell her everything right from the start, but she wasn’t all that interested in Iceland.”

Well, I guess that’s one way to stall the interrogation. Soon, we’re joined by Lily and Daisy. The two policemen who talked with Daisy seem a bit shaken; I guess she told them some amusing story about goats. On the other hand, Lily has the same expression as every arrested celebrity girl in the tabloids – mostly anger, with almost no regret. 

“Watch out for this one,” the policeman says to Tempest, pointing at Lily. “She’s our HR specialist.”

“How so?” Tempest asks.

“She said she’ll get us all fired.” The policeman shrugs. “We get those every weekend.”

“Well, my van is now a piece of evidence and this expensive plant pot is now a murder weapon, apparently.” Lily sighs and turns to me. “At least they’ll let us take The Great Roberto. There are no fingerprints on him.”

“Well, that’s great,” I reply. 

“Maybe for you, but what about the van?” Lily asks. “My mom is gonna kill me. And we didn’t even get the one with the money, because that’s even more evidence.”

“You should be happy you didn’t get killed,” Tempest replies, walking down the corridor and towards the door. We follow her mostly because the alternative is spending the rest of the night in a rather uncomfortable cell. 

“Still, we need to get back home, somehow,” Daisy says. “And then explain what happened to the van to Lily’s parents.”

“Or we can stay here and find the clowns ourselves,” Lily replies. “I’d show him for–” She’s interrupted rather abruptly when Tempest smacks her in the back of the head. It was probably meant to be a gentle pat, but Lily nearly fell down the stairs.

“Pashla na khui, svoloch!” Tempest exclaims. “If you really have a death wish, there are a lot of places where they need volunteers to clear the minefields. At least you’d be useful for once.”

Lily rubs the back of her head. “What did you call me?”

“I know, but it’s because I play too many video games.” Muffins smiles sheepishly. 

Me too, to be honest. I once learned what some Russian kid told me and yelled it to another Russian kid. The moment of stunned silence among the members of my clan was totally worth it. 

“Your friends will explain this to you,” Tempest says. “Now, go back to the hotel. It’s enough of strange stuff going around you for one night.”

“When will I get my van back?” Lily asks.

Tempest sighs. “When you do, I’ll personally come and shove it up your ass. For now, I can pay for a cab for you, just so you don’t wander around here.”

“Yeah, we can go with that.” Muffins drags Lily away from Tempest, probably preventing murder or at least grievous bodily harm. 

Eventually, we do get back to the hotel by a cab, though Lily is still salty and Muffins’ idea to cheer her up by playing pool doesn’t make her any happier. In fact, no one’s really into playing pool.

Daisy puts it best. “It’s 2 AM, we found a dead clown, we got arrested, and Roseluck–”

“Don’t mention it,” Roseluck mutters through gritted teeth.

“Okay.” Muffins turns to me. “What about you?” 

“I can’t play pool.” I reply. “Also, what Daisy said. I’d rather go to sleep, then we need to get The Great Roberto a new pot because the one we got from the police sucks, there’s still the second day of the fair, and then we have to get back home, somehow.”

“I guess we’ll get the van back soon,” Muffins says. “The clowns’ own van is more interesting, with more fingerprints and stuff.”

“Maybe.” I shrug. “But for now, I’d rather go to sleep.”

At least I’m so tired that I fall asleep before I get to see Muffins in her bathrobe again. Now that’d make my dreams even more complicated. 

And boy, are they complicated… In this particular dream, I get lured into a sewer by a clown, because if there’s someone completely blind to horror tropes, then it’s me. At least the sewer is not so bad, nothing really floats and they have quite a lot of bonsai trees, balloons, and quite a lot of money. I could live here, really. I mean, the clowns are a bit scary, but then my conscience shows up and says that everything is fine. Who am I to disagree?

However, before I get to travel the world and the seven seas, Tempest shows up. The clowns try to smash a flower pot on her head, but she’s having none of it. Instead, she pulls out an AK-47 out of nowhere, yells something angry in Russians and shoots all the clowns.

“I always water my bonsai tree with clown blood in the morning,” she says. 

“I need to try this,” I reply, turning in my bed and opening my eyes. Unsurprisingly, the first person I see is Muffins. “Would you kindly put some clothes on?” I ask.

“Why?” She shrugs. “It’s night, no one can see me. Also, do you know that you’re talking in your sleep? It wasn’t that bad until you mentioned watering bonsai trees with clown blood.”

“Long story,” I reply, smiling sheepishly and trying to look her in the eyes rather than, uhh… elsewhere. “Though I bet you also have strange dreams after this whole clown thing.”

“Yeah, I had a dream that Pinkie Pie was chasing me with a fire axe because I liked Applejack’s apple pie better.” Muffins shrugs. “But that’s par for the course.”

“Hey, I like apple pie too,” I say. “And now I wonder what’d happen if Pinkie made apple pie. Would it be better than Applejack’s or not?”

“Now that’s dangerously close to heresy,” Muffins replies. “Nobody makes a better apple pie than Applejack, not even Pinkie Pie. Now, if you need a birthday cake, you go to Pinkie Pie. If you need a lavish dinner for thirty people, you can borrow Flash from me.”

Thirty people? I’m not sure I know that many people in real life. 

“I mean, for our last date he prepared some Cambodian pork with ginger and chili and it was great. You need to come for dinner one day.” She lies down on her bed. “Damn, now I’m hungry. Do you think this hotel has any fridge we can raid? Or at least a bar?”

A dinner with Muffins and Flash? And what would I do there? Also, I hope she doesn’t go fridge raiding dressed like this – or rather undressed, though there’s one good thing about it. None of the witnesses would remember that I was with her. And that’s without the memory stone. 

“I have no idea,” I reply. “For now, I’d rather go back to sleep.”

“Guess I’ll have to wait till breakfast, then.” Muffins wraps herself in the blanket and soon falls asleep. 

I have nothing else to do but to follow her steps.





The second day of the fair kinda sucks. 

I mean, we had to get there by a taxi and this time we had to pay for this. Which wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for Lily’s endless whining. Also, the new pot for The Great Roberto cost a small fortune and I still can’t get used to it. The old one was just better.

Sure, the old one probably has a clown's brain on it, but still, I liked that pot. It really tied the whole look together. Or maybe I just think so because I’m tired. I only caught a few hours of sleep and let’s say that the dream about Tempest and the clowns wasn’t the last thing my subconsciousness had to offer. 

So here I am, sleepy and annoyed. At least Roseluck looks just as miserable as me, though it’s not much of a consolation. Meanwhile, Daisy takes over talking to the people interested in watching The Great Roberto. She’s actually surprisingly good at it, although she sometimes goes off on really weird tangents.

“Speaking of French goats, do you know that Valençay cheese was originally pyramid-shaped, but when Napoleon came back from his campaign in Egypt and stopped at the Valençay castle, the shape brought back bad memories of Egypt, so he cut off the top with his sword,” Daisy says. “Although once he actually tasted the cheese, he apparently loved it. Myself, I prefer rocamadour. When I’ve been to France–”

“All that cheese talk is making me hungry,” Muffins whispers to me. “But then, I’m still trying to process how she went from bonsai trees to goats and then to cheese.”

“I don’t think those guys know either,” I reply, pointing at the people who are standing in front of Daisy. “Also, I don’t think they have any obscure French cheese anywhere here.”

“I’d rather eat a roasted kid,” Muffins says.

I roll my eyes. “Are we going back to the cannibalism talk?”

“No, a baby goat is called a kid.” Muffins smirks. “If you listened to Daisy about twenty minutes ago, you’d know that.”

“Still, this doesn’t sound tasty,” I say. “Also, I’m not sure how’d Daisy take that.”

“Okay, I know.” Muffins shrugs. “Indigo told me about that Indian restaurant in town and apparently they have goat vindaloo. I’m more into chicken curry, but as an experiment…”

“I’m not sure if I’m into such experiments,” I reply, getting up from my seat. “And now excuse me, I have to go to the toilet.”

I walk through the crowd. There’s probably a long line to the toilets because life hates me in general. Well, it’s all a matter of statistics – a lot of people, a venue with just a few stalls, and everyone had a few drinks in the pub yesterday… Yeah, it’s probably gonna be occupied. 

I’m kinda taking my time, looking at other people’s bonsai trees on my way. I greet a few people that I know either from real life or online forums, I share a few tips with them, pass by a group of clowns–

Wait, what? I turn back, but the clowns are no longer there. Normally, I’d shrug and go away, but since yesterday I’m a bit scared of clowns. I look around to see if Tempest is somewhere there, but I can’t see her.

Instead, I see some guy. He’s not dressed as a clown, but if he was, he’d totally look like one of those guys from yesterday. I mean, so would pretty much half of the people in this place, but this particular dude is also looking at me. Very suspicious. 

I turn around and go towards the toilets. Too bad I don’t have pepper spray or something like this. Or maybe a taser. I’d get a gun, but Roseluck is scared of me already; not to mention that I never actually shot one, so I’d most likely shoot myself or worse, someone completely innocent. 

The toilets are surprisingly empty; I think only one stall is taken. I take another one and when I get out, there’s only that one woman in there, washing her hands. I stand next to her to wash mine. She has rather strong make-up for some reason and she’s washing her hands way too long. Or maybe I’m just paranoid?

She turns to me. “Excuse me,” she says. “Do you have Prince Albert in a can?”

Damn, I read too much horror stories. Is she a clown too? Are there even female clowns? There probably are – after all, how are baby clowns born?

Screw it, I’m gonna punch her first and ask questions later. At worst, I’m gonna have to explain to Copper Top why I kicked some innocent bonsai fan’s ass.

I turn towards her and throw her my best right hook at her. Ouch! I think I broke something in my hand, but at least I gave her a bloody nose. Time to run, I guess. She tackles me, slamming me against a stall door. Do I have to punch her again? Instead of trying to get up, I just kick her in the stomach, pushing her away. She hits the sink with her back, groaning. Too bad she didn’t break the mirror with her head. I get up from the floor, but at the same moment I get hit in the head from behind. 

Well, I guess something like this happened, because it feels like a ton of bricks fell on my head. After that, there’s only stars.





When I wake up, I find myself in the back of some van. Great, another one. How many vans do those guys have? 

I open my eyes and find out that I’m not alone. Roseluck is here too, her hands tied with duct tape. I try to move, only to find out that I’m similarly tied. 

“What happened?” I ask.

“I got knocked out by a woman with a broken nose in the toilet,” Roseluck replies.

“Don’t tell me that you–”

“Nah, I got attacked after I was done,” Roseluck shrugs. “What do you think they’ll do to us?” 

“Hope they don’t kill us with a potted plant,” I reply. “Can you somehow untie yourself?”

Roseluck struggles against her bindings for a while, but the only thing she succeeds at rolling on the floor of the van and banging her head against some toolbox or something like that. Wait, a toolbox? I crawl to it, but with my hands tied behind my back, it’s really hard to open it.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” Roseluck rolls her eyes and flails her legs, trying to free herself. “And now imagine Lily trying to save us.”

Yeah, this kind of worries me. I open my mouth to tell her that, but suddenly I hear some voices outside. Well, not exactly voices. Someone’s groaning in pain; the van shakes when they hit its wall and, judging by the sounds, drop to the ground.

I hear another voice, belonging to a woman. “Wait, are you telling me that a thin, cross-eyed teenager handed your ass to you?”

“You don’t look that well either,” the man replies, panting heavily.

“Yes, but I at least brought that little hobo here!” the woman exclaims. Wait, little hobo? How rude! “Where’s that blondie?”

“She kicked me in the balls and broke the stall door with my head, what do you think?” The man groans. “I woke up ten minutes later with my head in the toilet bowl! A few inches closer to the water and I would’ve drowned!”

A third voice joins the conversation. It’s a man too, but his voice is more high-pitched. “At least we wouldn’t have to listen to your whining. Also, while you two were getting beaten by schoolgirls, I brought here this weirdo who was talking about goats. Open the van.”

I smell my chance and crawl closer to the van door. When the lock clicks, I bend my knees, positioning my legs towards the door. As soon as it opens, I let out a scream and kick the first person who shows up.

Turns out, it’s the third guy. The soles of my shoes hit him right in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to fall on his ass. Daisy, tied just like me and Roseluck, falls with him, causing the other two to laugh at his misery.

I take a look at them. The woman has traces of blood on her face and t-shirt after fighting me and the bigger guy still has wet hair, as well as a black eye and torn clothes. He’s also limping slightly. Muffins really needs to teach me how to defend myself like that. Meanwhile, the guy who brought Daisy here is trying to get up while muttering something extremely rude about my family. 

Eventually, he manages to get his bearings and get up. He looks at me and I immediately start to regret ever being born, but after a while he turns to his sidekicks. “You didn’t even gag them?” he asks.

“Well, it’s not like someone’s gonna hear them.” The other man shrugs. 

Indeed. We’re in the middle of some creepy forest. Wonder if they have shovels. If they do, then I’ll be digging my own grave for at least a few hours, hoping that someone rescues me before then. Well, either that or someone will get mad and dig it for me instead.

On a second thought, untying us and giving us shovels doesn’t sound like the smartest of plans. Like, Muffins apparently beat one of those guys up and even I managed to land a few hits on this woman. With a shovel, I can go wild. That is, until I inevitably hit myself in the face.

Eventually, we end up gagged with more duct tape and put back in the van, along with Daisy. Just great. I never knew Dunwich offers so many attractions to the visitors. I’ve been here for two days and I witnessed a bank robbery, found a dead body in a creepy amusement park, and now I got kidnapped. Canterlot City pales in comparison. 

Well, on a second thought, not really. I mean, so far no one turned into a demon or at least a big, dragon-like thing with a lot of teeth. There was no tearing holes in the very fabric of reality, and no mall has been plagued by a ten-foot tall diva with an inferiority complex. The camp owners didn’t sprout tentacles and local social media thots didn’t go nuts and had to be put back in place with a healthy dose of friendship lasers. So all in all, two out of ten, will come again if the prices are low enough.

Wait. Why didn’t I get a cool demon form? Life is really not fair. I’d ask Daisy or Roseluck about that, but the problem is, I’m gagged and they’re gagged. So, neither the question nor the answer would be possible.

Suddenly, the van door closes and we’re left in the dark. At least I’m not afraid of it, but judging by the sudden whimper on my left, Roseluck is.
Why, of all the people, I had to get kidnapped with her?
> 6. Muffin Mash
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, this is getting weird.

Not like, I-was-riding-a-bicycle-and-fell-into-a-well-weird or whatever-is-wrong-with-Sour-Sweet kind of weird, but downright bizarre. I mean, Roseluck is missing, Wallflower is missing, and now Daisy is missing too. Not to mention that creep in the toilet. I actually came back there to ask him a few questions, but it seems that he woke up and ran away.

This is also strange on its own. No one whose head met with the toilet bowl at this speed should wake up so fast or be able to walk away like this. Trust me, I had enough blunt force trauma to the head to be a kind of an expert. 

Remember kids: always wear helmets when cycling. Though if you fall into nettles, a helmet doesn’t help much. 

Wait, I need to focus. It really doesn’t help that Lily is here. She may be playing tough, but deep down– Well, it’s not even deep down. Just like donkeys, she wears her fears right out there on her sleeves. 

“Lily, be quiet,” I say. “I’m thinking what to do.”

“You were thinking for the last ten minutes and I didn’t say a word,” Lily replies. 

“Yes, but you’re thinking too. It’s very distracting.”

“Oh, so now you’re like Sunset Shimmer?” she asks. “She can do this trick with reading thoughts and she said that after reading me, she had to somehow convince herself that the Were-Rabbit is not real.”

“Is it?” I ask. Actually, that’s kind of interesting. I mean, if our friends didn’t disappear, we could go and look for the Were-Rabbit, though I’m pretty sure Lily wouldn’t join us. 

“Of course it is,” Lily says.

“What about his cousins, Was-Rabbit, Will-Be-Rabbit, and Has-Been-Rabbit?” I ask.

“What now?” 

I shrug. “Nothing. Anyway, let’s liberally apply Occam’s Razor here–”

“What now?”

I swear, if she says ‘what now?’ once again, I’ll break another door. And my doctor said that I can only break one door a day. 

“I read about it on Wikipedia,” I reply. “Anyway, we messed up the plans of a gang of murderous clowns. Now our friends have disappeared. We can safely assume the clowns kidnapped them, right?”

“This sounds worse when you say that,” Lily replies.

“And what can we do about that?” I ask.

“Go back home and forget we’ve ever met Wallflower?” Lily asks. I swear, somewhere there’s a door I’ll have to break because of her. “It’s not like anyone else at school had ever seen her, right? She may have been a collective hallucination.”

“Well, we can’t do much except for the thing we should’ve done yesterday,” I say, grabbing my phone. “We call this ginger cop with a big gun and hope for the best.”

“Yeah, that’s also an option,” Lily says. “Although, I still think–”

Okay, the idea that we imagined Wallflower and she never really existed is kind of amusing, but I think her luggage is still in our room back in the hotel and it’s a rather big pile of evidence of her existence. Hmm, evidence of existence. If there was absence of evidence of existence, I’d be on the fence. 

In the meantime, I manage to call the Dunwich police. Time to be normal, I guess. 

“Hello, I’d like to say that we were at your station yesterday, remember? We got arrested for killing a clown, but it wasn’t us,” I say.

“You’re not helping our case,” Lily mutters. Like she’d do it better, with bunnies and stuff.

“Well, now Wallflower, Daisy, and Roseluck are missing and I got attacked by some creep in the toilet. I wanted to ask him a few questions, but he ran away.”

“Is this some joke?” the guy on the other side of the line asks. Come on, they have a big, creepy abandoned amusement park in town and yet their cops are completely devoid of imagination.

“I assure you this is not a joke,” I reply. “You may ask the ginger woman with a big gun. She talked to Wallflower. You know Wallflower, right? Wears a sweater, constantly zones out, looks like a watermelon when she blushes–”

Suddenly, I hear only beeping. The guy hung up on me? Well, farðu í rassgat, helvítis drullukunta. 

Oh right, time to look for alternative solutions. Maybe one of all those gardeners is like, a commando in disguise. Though I guess it’s more likely that someone is going commando. And this time it’s not even me. 

Wait, I think I’m forgetting someone. Where is Tempest Shadow when you need her? I mean, if someone can rip those clowns a new one and find Wallflower, then it’s her. I look around but I’m pretty sure she’s not here. I mean, she’s taller than most people in the crowd so she’d be easy to spot.

“What are you thinking about?” Lily asks.

I shrug. “If you were Tempest Shadow, where would you be right now?” 

“Drinking vodka, eating raw meat and steel nails, while torturing a POW,” Lily replies. “Why would you need her?”

“The police didn’t want to help, so I’m looking for a budget alternative,’ I say. “Also, I think you gave me an idea. You know those guys who have a stall here and they sell tools, lawnmowers and other stuff like that?”

“Do I want to know how you went from torturing POWs to lawnmowers?” Lily asks, looking at me unsurely.

“It’s simple, I divided fifteen by Friday,” I reply. “Let’s check out there.”

We walk to the stall. My idea turns out to be right – Tempest is there, looking at a large woodchipper. Hmm, I guess our garden would need such a thing – whenever we cut the tree branches, we never know what to do with them. My idea to burn them all for the glory of Satan wasn’t met with Wallflower’s approval, to put it mildly. 

“Hi, Tempest,” I say. “What’s up?”

She looks at me, then at the woodchipper, and then, slowly, her gaze moves to Lily. “I was just wondering if a schoolgirl would fit in it.”

“You should talk to Wallflower,” I reply. “Just yesterday, she was thinking about using girl scouts as a basis of a healthy diet.”

Don't get me wrong. Wallflower is fine, but sometimes you just feel like one day she'll shoot you, eat your tongue, and nail your antlers to the wall as some kind of a trophy. I'm pretty sure she cheers for the hunters when watching Bambi.

“She may have a point.” Tempest shrugs. “Where is she, anyway?”

“That’s the thing,” I reply. “She went to the bathroom and never returned. And when I went to the bathroom, I had the weirdest thing happening to me…”

“Yeah, I know.” Tempest smirks. “You’d never guess what passes as food in the Asian Dawn Movement.”

“No, I mean this guy who tried to kidnap me and I left him unconscious in the stall,” I say. “Though I guess he got better because when we got back there he already left.”

Tempest’s eyes widen. “Wait, someone tried to kidnap you?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “And I guess they also managed to kidnap Roseluck and Daisy.”

“Did you call the police?” 

I shrug. “They didn’t quite believe me. So I thought, you seem like you could find those clowns and give them a taste of Vietnam or something.”

“Vietnam?” She chuckles. “I’m not that old.”

“I don’t know, I’m bad with telling age.” I shrug. Seriously, I once thought Vice-Principal Luna was a student. I even told her not to park her car in the faculty lot and she keeps giving me weird looks. Or maybe it’s because I wrecked the lab one time too many. 

“If you have to know, on the day I was born Egyptians crossed the Suez Canal to seize the Bar-Lev line,” she replies.

“Impossible,” I reply. “People don’t live that long.”

“She doesn’t mean that thing with Moses and his staff,” Lily says. Well, Tempest’s expression tells me about the same thing. I’m not really good with history; I only know the fun things, like that the Samurai era ended in 1868 and fax machines were invented in 1843, so technically a Samurai could use a fax machine. 

The thing is, what would he use it for? Sending low-quality photos of their new katanas and wishing social media were invented earlier?

“So, your lack of historical knowledge aside, where did you last see Wallflower?” Tempest asks. I immediately stop thinking about the Samurai.

“She went to the bathroom and didn’t come back. Just like pretty much everyone, almost including myself,” I reply.

“Right.” Tempest rolls her eyes and looks at the woodchipper again. “Let’s see this bathroom.”





Tempest looks at the floor of the bathroom stall. She put on rubber gloves from her first-aid kit, though the stall, aside from the damage I did, looks much better than, for example, the one at the railway station back in Canterlot City. For starters, there are no syringes and you don’t get ten different diseases if you touch the seat. Assuming someone didn’t steal it. 

Eventually she rubs the floor and sniffs her fingers. It’s a girls’ room, but I’d rather not do this if I were her. Some girls also have problems with aiming.

“Blood,” she says. “Exactly how many times did you bang this guy’s head against the bowl?”

“I don’t know,” I reply. “I kinda lost count.”

“Good,” Tempest replies. “There should be more blood there.”

She’s right, I must say. The trail of droplets goes all the way to the parking lot. It’s kinda like Hansel and Gretel and their trail of breadcrumbs, except with blood. So, I’d say Hansel and Gretel but more metal. 

To think about it, the original is already pretty metal, with burning old ladies in the stove and stuff like that. I guess Tempest would like it. I’d tell her about that, but she seems to be busy. We just reached the parking lot and the trail ends. 

“They had another van,” Tempest says, pointing at the concrete surface of the parking lot. Near the last drop of blood we found there’s a pair of muddy tyre tracks, leading towards the road. “Judging from the tyres, it must’ve been another Transit.”

“Do they make them or what?” Lily asks. “They could give one to me. We need to get back home, somehow.”

“Maybe they stole ten of them and just take another one when they need it.” Tempest shrugs. “It’s like back in Russia, if I needed a new Lada, I’d always find one parked somewhere.” She looks at us. “Just don’t mention that to anyone, okay?”

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell,” I reply. “So, how do we chase them?” 

“Wait a second.” Tempest looks at the tracks. “Judging by the mud on the tyres, they must’ve come from some forest. The mud in the amusement park is different, not to mention that there’s probably still a lot of police there.” She raises her head and looks at the road. “They went east. Let’s hope they didn’t bury your friends somewhere.”

“Oh great,” Lily mutters. “I may be able to explain to my parents why the van is gone, but it may be more difficult with Daisy.”

“Not to mention Wallflower,” I say. “How will we even chase them?”

“Wait a second, I’ll get my motorbike,” Tempest replies. 

After a while, she rides back to us. It’s a huge Harley-Davidson with a sidecar. There’s, of course, a pirate flag on the sidecar because why not. I need to put one on my bicycle when I get home. Tempest stops by us and hands me a spare helmet.

“Sit behind me,” she says and turns to Lily. “You, sit in the sidecar and take care of my tree. Don’t touch the rifle, though.”

“You have a rifle there?” Lily asks, looking into the sidecar.

“Of course,” Tempest replies. “You don’t?”

“I wouldn’t be allowed to park at the school’s parking lot.” Lily sighs and sits in the sidecar, holding Tempest’s bonsai tree. “Will I get a helmet too?”

“Nah, there’s nothing in your head that needs protecting and I don’t have a third one,” Tempest replies. “If you drop Ivan, I’ll drag you behind the motorcycle, so watch out.”

“You named your tree Ivan?” I ask, giving Lily The Great Roberto. After all, we can’t leave him at the stall.

“Sure, why not.” Tempest turns the throttle, darting forward. Good thing I have the helmet because I nearly fall off the motorbike. Lily is a bit safer in the sidecar – well, unless we lose it, then Lily and our trees may be in trouble. Though at least they’d have a rifle, but something tells me Ivan knows how to use it better than Lily. 

“Do we have any plan?” I ask, hoping that Tempest hears me over the sound of the engine. “Or are we going east until we end up in the forest?”

“That’s exactly the plan,” Tempest replies. “Though I still see some muddy marks on the road, so we might be on the right path.”

“Well, I hope so,” Lily mutters. “Or else it means I’m in danger.”

“You’re in constant danger of accidentally falling out of the sidecar.” Tempest turns to me. “Does she always complain about everything? Where did you even find her?”

“She had a van,” I reply. “And you’d better look at the road.”

Tempest turns back, right in time to dodge a truck going in the opposite direction. “Why did you need a van?”

“Wallflower is a bit crazy about The Great Roberto and she didn’t want me to steal the school bus,” I say. “I mean, we’d only borrow it. And it’d totally work if I only asked Indigo to hotwire it. Her sister is in prison for–”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s an interesting story.” Tempest sighs. “Although school buses are pretty noticeable once they’re not going towards the school.”

“Did you try–”

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny that it ever happened,” Tempest says. “But let’s say that the tank crews found it very suspicious. Especially since it was the middle of Summer.”

I shrug. “Well, there are no tanks here.”

“Still, police patrols…”

Oh, she definitely overestimates the police here. I don’t think they have a tank. Besides, did someone ever pull over a school bus? I mean, they sometimes check if the bus is okay and if the driver is sober before a school trip, but later? I don’t think I’ve ever seen something like this.

Though on the other hand, an almost empty school bus driven by Wallflower could be a bit suspicious. Especially since I’m not sure Wallflower can drive a bus. Or anything bigger than a bicycle for that matter. 

Tempest turns the motorbike and the sudden change of direction snaps me out of my thoughts. We left the town behind and Tempest just drove onto a narrow forest road, stopping by the group of pine trees. I look around and my detective sense is tingling – there are tyre marks on the ground.

“Do you think they are here?” I ask.

“Either that or we’re going to really scare some kids with a van.” Tempest hops off the motorbike and walks to the sidecar. “Move your ass,” she mutters to Lily, and grabs the rifle. My knowledge of guns comes solely from video games, but I guess it’s some bolt-action model with a scope. Maybe she likes to occasionally shoot some deer on her way home. Or maybe she really wants kids to get off her lawn. 

“Now, we have to be quiet,” Tempest whispers. “We’ll follow the tyre marks and see where they take us.”

“That’s your whole plan?” Lily asks. 

“If you have a better one, I’m listening.” Tempest rolls her eyes and walks down the path, holding the rifle in her hands. “If someone asks, I’ll say that we’re hunting and hope they don’t notice that we’re the most visible group of hunters ever.”

“I don’t find hunting ethical,” Lily whispers. There are good moments to share such opinions, but I guess it’s not one of them.

“Me neither,” Tempest replies. So, there goes my theory about deer. “Since I’ve lived here, I only shot a poacher in the ass.”

The bushes around us get thicker as we go deeper into the forest. We’re still following the road, though Tempest occasionally looks around and prompts us to hide in the thick foliage. Not sure why – so far the only living thing we’ve met is a northern harrier. Guess it won’t snitch on us to the clowns, assuming they’re even here. 

Suddenly, Tempest stops and jumps into the small ditch next to the road. If she didn’t, I’d probably fall into it, knowing my luck. Still, I follow her there while Lily just looks at us as if we were crazy. 

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Over there.” Tempest points at something in front of her. I look there and see my friend from the toilet. He has a black eye and his clothes are torn, so I guess he still remembers me. Still, he’s looking around, although without much enthusiasm. Guess no one wanted to be a guard, but he drew the short straw or something.

Well, considering the way he looks right now, he drew the short straw when it comes to life in general. 

“It’s him,” I whisper to Tempest. 

“Now, I’ll show you how to be stealthy,” Tempest replies. “Come to me when he goes down.”

She gets out of the ditch and crawls towards the guy. Let me tell you, guards in video games are harder to get around than him. As soon as he turns his back to us, Tempest darts from the bushes and soon the guy is lying on the ground, half-conscious after getting the butt of the rifle to the back of the head. 

Lily and I join her as quietly as we can. Tempest is not in a hurry – she produces a large knife and shows it to the guy.

“If you scream, I’ll give you a free brain surgery,” she says. “Unfortunately, I’m the worst neurosurgeon in the world. How many friends do you have there?”

“Two,” the guy replies. “Though Jewel is not well right now.”

“What happened to Jewel?” Tempest asks.

“You know that psycho who looks like a fir in a sweater?” He winces. “Jewel gave her a shovel so she’d dig her own grave and the next thing you know, she caught a shovel with her face.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Wallflower,” I mutter. “So there’s one guy there?”

“Yeah, and he’s digging now,” the guy replies.

“Okay then.” Tempest punches the guy again, knocking him out. “Good night.” She turns to me and Lily. “We have to hurry before the guy is done digging.”

We rush through the bushes until we see a small clearing. There’s a van there and a very angry short guy digging a hole. It’d make a nice genre painting, especially with additional details, such as an unconscious woman lying next to the van and Wallflower, Daisy, and Roseluck standing next to her, tied, and watching the guy. Looks like they’re fine, though Roseluck’s face tells me that she’s about to have an accident. Wallflower, on the other hand, seems like everything is according to her plan. Maybe she’s just getting excited when someone’s about to die, even if it’s her. 

“Wait here,” Tempest whispers, raising her rifle and getting out of the bushes. “Hey, you!” she exclaims. “Don’t you know that only I can bury my victims here? Find yourself another forest.”

I must admit the guy is fast. He drops the shovel, grabs a gun and shields himself with Daisy. “Drop that!” he shouts.

“Hey, why me?” Daisy asks. What a great time to whine.

“Because the green one has a death wish and I don’t want your friend to throw up on me!” the guy replies. He still has the remains of clown make-up on his face, but unlike his companions, he doesn’t look like he got punched enough today.

“Hey, I don’t throw up!” Roseluck exclaims. If they start arguing who’d make a better hostage, I’ll get out of those bushes and offer myself as a candidate. I’ve never been taken hostage before.

“Considering what you do when stressed, throwing up would be preferable,” Wallflower mutters and turns to Tempest. “He’s bluffing! If he wanted to kill us, he’d already do that and dig a hole at his leisure!”

“Can you not provoke him while he’s aiming at me?” Daisy rolls her eyes. 

“He didn’t shoot me when I started my little shovel rampage,” Wallflower replies. “Guess he beat the other guy to death with a pot by a sheer accident.”

“Shut up!” the guy exclaims, his hand trembling. Let’s hope his fingers don’t twitch. 

“Yeah, shut up, Wallflower,” Daisy says. Does she have Stockholm syndrome already? “Or we can trade places, if you want.”

“Sure, why not,” Wallflower replies.

“I don’t agree!” the guy exclaims, shuddering. “And I’m holding you hostage, so I think I have a say in this matter.”

“Man, I know kids in Eastern Europe who could hold hostages better than you,” Tempest says.

He aims his gun at Tempest. “Weren’t you supposed to drop that? I’m getting nervous when someone’s aiming at me.”

“I may drop it, but I wanted to wait until you settle matters with your hostages.” Tempest shrugs. “Or maybe you drop your gun and I promise Wallflower won’t visit you in prison.”

“No way I’m going to prison,” the guy replies, pulling Daisy towards the van. “Nobody move or I’ll shoot!”

“Whom?” Wallflower asks.

“You, if you don’t shut up!” 

“And if he doesn’t, I will,” Tempest says. “I swear, you kids are gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Tell me about it.” The clown guy rolls his eyes. “It was already hard enough when my old gang got arrested and I had to rob this bank with morons like Jewel, Crowbar, and the late Halligan Bar, who couldn’t even tell his own van from the other one. And then Jewel had a brilliant idea to kidnap those kids because ‘they totally know where our money went’!” He sighs. “At the police station, that’s where! And now I’m stuck with those meddling kids and I can’t even yell at Jewel for that because she got shoveled.” He looks at Tempest. “On a side note, what did you do to Crowbar?”

“He’ll be fine-ish,” Tempest replies. “If it’s so bad, why don’t you give them to me and get out of here?”

“What if you shoot me then?” he asks. “I don’t trust someone who looks like they got run over by a lawnmower and just jumps out of bushes with a rifle and yells at me.”

“A lawnmower?” Tempest aims her rifle at the former clown. “That was a whole tank company, you idiot!”

“See? This is why I have trust issues!” The guy aims his gun at Tempest again. “You’d better drop your gun or I’ll– aargh!” His scream is followed by a gunshot. He looks at his gun, or rather a half of it – it seems like the barrel had been shot off. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tempest says. “I was voted the worst sniper in Sarajevo three times in a row.”

“And you’re telling me this only now!?” Daisy exclaims, before turning around and headbutting the former clown dude who was resting himself against the van, holding his nose. “Be happy that my hands are tied!”

“It seems I arrived just in time!” Copper Top walks out of the bushes, blowing smoke off the barrel of her revolver. She twirls it a few times and puts it back in the holster. “You’re all arrested, at least until I figure out what happened here. Yes, you two in the bushes too.” She turns to me. “The news of your call reached me, but you could’ve at least told us that you went to search for the kidnappers along with–” She looks at Tempest. “Whoever you are, cowgirl.”

“I am a cowgirl, huh?” Tempest rolls her eyes. “And now excuse me, I’m gonna untie Daisy, if she promises that she won’t kill this guy.”

Lily and I walk to Wallflower and Roseluck to untie them. Well, guess we’ll soon get cuffed by the police again, but they may as well get a moment of freedom. 

“You know what?” Wallflower says. “Next time I want to take us somewhere, smack me with a newspaper or something.”

“Don’t worry,” I reply. “Next time we’re going somewhere, I’ll choose a place.”

“Oh no…” Wallflower mutters.
> 7. Epilogue – Wallflower Splash!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, fixing all the issues with the clowns took a while. Luckily, we were freed rather quickly, though it took a while before Lily got her van back and stopped bothering me about it. Also, Daisy eventually forgave me for distracting this guy while he was holding her hostage. Like he’d really shoot her. But well, now he’s in prison along with Jewel and Crowbar, so she doesn’t have to worry about him.

Nevertheless, we finished school, though I’m still taking care of the garden whenever I have time. I guess I have no other choice than to become a professional gardener. 

Oh, and despite my protests, Muffins eventually dragged me, kicking and screaming, for another trip during the winter break – she’s studying particle physics or something like this. I hope this doesn’t end in a nuclear apocalypse. I still haven’t dug my fallout shelter.

I’m not the only unfortunate victim, though – Flash Sentry also ended up with us, as well as some wannabe actress whose name I can’t remember, but she’s apparently Twilight’s gaming buddy. I never knew Twilight was into video games, but Muffins told me that it’s more about role-playing games. She also told me that the girl is into anime and that we’d have a lot in common. Also, the owners of the spa are her family or something and she put me in a room with her. At least I’m spared from the view of Muffins in various states of undress, though the actress girl has an annoying habit of reciting monologues and stuff like that. I swear, if I hear her go “out, damned spot” whenever she washes her hands once again, I shall lay my vengeance upon her.

Damn, now that I think about it, Muffins is probably trying to ship us, even though the actress girl mentioned having a boyfriend. Since people around me apparently have no sense of shame whatsoever, I also know that their safeword is ‘baboon’ and that her most memorable role was a corpse in some TV show. She also told me that autopsy tables are pretty cold. I’ll keep that in mind in case of sudden death. 

Also, did I mention that we’re currently in the middle of nowhere, Iceland, chilling out in the spa? More exactly, it’s some kind of a hot spring. The water is pretty hot—Muffins says that it’s because of all the volcanoes—and I’m pretty sure I look like a watermelon already. The actress girl is next to me, though I’m not sure if she can see anything due to all the steam on her glasses.

“Remind me,” I whisper. “What’s your name?”

“I told you ten times already,” she replies. “Juniper Montage. I brought you a bonsai tree from Japan, remember?”

“Ah, it was you!” I sigh. “In my defence, it was 2 AM when you called me and I didn’t quite get a good look at you.”

“That’s strange, everyone usually remembers me,” she replies. “And I do remember your pillow.”

Oh, come on. Of all the things about me, people still remember this?

“It was a good one, though,” she says. Well, I guess that’s a compliment. “By the way, we have to check out the sauna. Muffins says it’s great.”

“I’d rather not,” Flash says. “Last year, I got locked out of the sauna without my clothes and I’d rather not end up there again.”

“Don’t worry, this time you may get locked in the sauna with us,” Juniper says. “Not the guy with a big, uhh… talent.”

“Muffins told you about it too?” Flash rolls his eyes. “I swear, when she comes back here…”

“Well, since we’re having an honest talk…” I say. “Did Muffins tell you that I once got a hold of a magical artifact?”

“You too?” Flash sighs. “Is there anyone here who didn’t? Though at least I don’t remember you terrorising the mall like Juniper here.”

“Well, about that…'' I smile sheepishly. “Remember when your car got that dent in the fender and smelled like–”

“Hey, what’s up?” Muffins walks to us, wrapped in a towel. “Having fun?”

“Yeah,” Flash replies. “Wallflower was just telling me something important about my car.”

“Ah, this.” Muffins smirks. “And I just wanted to go jogging. Anyone want to go with me?”

“It’s winter in Iceland and we’re just chilling out.” Juniper stretches her arms. “I may be in for some training later, but I’d rather go indoors. I think they have a gym here too, right?”

“Yeah, and you don’t quite have clothes for jogging right now,” I say to Muffins.

She smiles in a way that tells me that I just made a mistake. “Clothes?” she asks, dropping her towel. “Where we’re going, we don’t need clothes!” With these words, she runs off. Great, we’re gonna get arrested again, this time abroad. Though then, Iceland is kinda Europe, right? Maybe it’s normal here?

I guess I’ll soon find out.