NOVEL NEXT 196: Flame-Proof Farts
SLYDAR
Ya missed me, don't pretend otherwise. I know, you love Rory too, but you've been missin' my voice these last few chapters, haven't ya?
Yep, we did it. Took an airship across Trauton 4, met up with our friends Rhianne and Susette at an amazing little station that was on a massive riverbank, and I'd never seen anything like it.
Bleerwater's what the town was called, and it looked like something outta a catalog. Resort-ish and fancy, but cozy all at once. Not so huge as to be cold and indifferent; homey. Fucking lovely is what it was.
That's what I'd thought right up 'til the moment a petite black woman with kinky hair bounced up to us thrusting bizarro lollipops in our faces shrilling, "Peeps! Come with me, and you'll get the tour of a lifetime the way Jolly Holly's Lollipop Rides does it! Don't stop at Bleerwater, we've got a whole river to see! Now, my new friends! Now! Grab those bags and suck those lollie's, 'cuz we've got places to be and good times to have."
Rory took a step back from the onslaught, but I grabbed the weirdest lollipop I'd ever seen and peeled back the cellophane. It was a brown goat-man head, and when I bit it, I was rewarded with milk chocolate melting on my happy tongue.
"Cosmos, Rory, you gotta try this!" She took a bite, and suddenly, she wasn't about to run away from Jolly Holly, uhn uh.
"No way!" Rory said, "Holly, this has to be Shurwinn chocolate!"
"You got it. Only the best chocolate in the galaxy for my clients!"
"This is one hell of a marketing strategy, Jolly Holly. I mean, I don't even know what the fuck this goat-head-chocolate lollipop is, but whatever you're doin,' I wanna hear about it."
Holly doubled over laughing, but she helped me push the floater laden with our luggage over to a hover yacht and got us loaded in. It was a sweet ride too, looked, well— properly theatrical, didn't it?
Like something out of a show, not really street worthy. Or "river worthy," I guess was the right way to say it since we were going on a flying tour of sites along the Bleer River.
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It was a yacht, but instead of the usual white, sleek features, it was varnished wood, looking similar to the buildings of Bleerwater. Wooden with loads of windows, warm and homey. The inside glowed and had plenty of open spaces and small cabins for sleeping.
We stowed our luggage and met the others back in the living room of the yacht wondering what weirdness would come next.
"Friends! You've already gotten a taste of Jolly Holly's Best Chocolate In The Galaxy Lollies, so let's head to dinner at Jorn's Jug, the dirtiest pub in Bleerwater. Come on, folks! Trust me, so far everything's ship shape, and I'm not gonna let you down."
"I'll follow, Holly, you've already got me hooked, so reel me in," Rory snickered, and she really meant it.
Part of her was feelin' horrified by the whole awkward situation, but another part was eating it up tryin' to figure out what kinda marketing genius Holly was.
I was wonderin' what kinda weird ass chocolate Rory'd come up with for our future the whole way to the pub, but once we went into Jorn's Jug, I was on board too.
Warm, glowy light. The smell of hops and malt. Mouth-watering sizzling sounds coming from the kitchen, and comfy booths lining the wall.
We had an amazing dinner of fajitas wrapped in handmade tortillas loaded with avocado, peppers, steak, and melty cheese with a squeeze of lime. Salty chips and spicy dips. Tankard after tankard of ale, then topped it all off with a creamy flan custard for dessert.
All doubt I had about Jolly Holly was gone, but the night wasn't done.
We laughed our way back to the yacht, Rhianne nearly wetting herself telling a story of being drunk in high school and setting farts on fire with her buds. Holly broke out the tequila and rum, and things got a bit crazier.
There were matches and flick lighters involved. I'm not ashamed to say it: we tried for two hours— yes, me and four hilarious women— to light our farts on fire. We even ordered prunes delivered to brew up some more flatulence, but alas, not a single toot caught flame.
Have you ever managed it? People swear it can be done, but I've not seen it, and those videos on stream? Don't trust 'em. Doctored. No doubt.
Nearly spent and thoroughly sloshed, Jolly Holly got real.
"I love you guysh. You're the besht tour group I've ever had. Wanna know a shecret?"
We all nodded seriously.
"Love you too," Susette said sincerely. "I don't want this vacay to ever end. It'sh the besht ever."
"Me too," Holly nodded, "Me too. Shtay. My name's not even Holly. It's Mindy. But that's a fuckin' shtupid name. I can't call my businessh 'Mindy's Lollies' what kind of shtupid ass name would that be? And you wanna know something else?"
"Don't own thish yacht? Shtole it?" Rhianne slurred.
"Unh uh. Mine. But I only tour sho I can travel and do whatever the fuck I want. I jusht make shit up to keep people happy and payin.' Not a con artist. Got papers. Jusht don't care about anything but seeing as much as I can 'fore I die."
"Put that on a banner. Good ad," Rory advised right before she conked out.
We woke up at dawn feeling bad as you'd 'spect, but once we hydrated and recovered, we had the time of our lives touring wherever Mindy wanted to go next. And mostly we went to places she'd never been, paying her to take us on the vacation of her dreams. Turned out, she was worth every credit.
