Page 22 of Blaze of Our Lives

“Youse sound like a decent sort,” Phyllis announced. She glanced around. “Did dem little bastards try to bite youse?”

“No.”

She raised a penciled-in, dyed red brow and lit a third cigarette. “Dat’s good. Means dat dey accept youse as they’re new leader.”

“What?” I asked a little too loudly.

Phyllis chuckled then coughed spastically. It sounded like she swallowed gravel and then hacked it up. “Dems the brakes when youse come to Snoz uninvited.”

I eyed her warily. Was she messing with me? Was I messing with myself? Was Snoz a farked up version of Oz? This was my stupid dream state. However, I didn’t feel in control of it at all.

I was working with a limited amount of time. If Phyllis was on the Higher Power’s plane, then there was a good chance that she knew the Higher Power. Getting right to the point was imperative.

“I’m here to see the Higher Power,” I stated.

Phyllis’ eyes bulged, and she almost inhaled her cigarette. The fanged munchkins screamed like they were on fire. The sound was so shrill, I was sure I lost a percentage of my hearing.

“Are youse CRAZY?” she demanded.

“Apparently,” I replied. If she was here, she was here for a reason. She couldn’t kill me even if she tried. Actually, I think she could but I wouldn’t stay dead. I’d stood up to the Immortal Enforcer and lived to tell. I could certainly stand up to a smack-talking, crunchy-haired crappy driver. “I’d like your assistance.”

Again, her eyes bulged, but this time she actually swallowed the lit cigarette. Without a second thought, I walked over and slapped her on the back. She went flying, but the butt came out of her mouth… still lit. Of course, the munchkins shrieked again. They were seriously annoying.

“Thank youse!” Phyllis said, getting to her feet and offering me her tiny hand.

“Welcome.” I shook her hand. For such a little thing, she had one hell of a grip.

“Youse are in luck,” she announced, walking back over to her golf cart and getting in.

I wasn’t sure if the vehicle would work, considering she’d pretty much totaled it when she’d mowed down the cookie house. Amazingly, it did.

“I’ll pop in when youse least expect it, Cecily who likes jazz cabbage,” she announced… or, more possibly, warned. “Dem little screamin’ shits will get youse on the right track. Youse are gonna have a journey filled with obstacles. If youse fail one, youse is gonna have to start over at the beginnin’. Youse understand?”

“Kind of,” I replied, hoping Phyllis wasn’t as cryptic as the Immortals in my life. “Could you be a little more specific with the obstacle part?”

“Nope!” Phyllis cackled like a loon. She backed up the golf cart, running over a candy-cane bush and took off. Over her tiny shoulder she called out, “Good luck, Cecily! Youse is gonna need it!”

I watched her ride off into the pink sunset while mowing down six lollipop trees. Phyllis was a menace on the road. After a long beat of silence, Pandora got back in the game. “Well, that was certainly fucked up.”

“Word,” I replied in agreement.

“What are you going to do?” she demanded.

I groaned. “I’m gonna talk to the munchkins and hopefully not get bitten.”

“DO NOT get bitten, imbecile,” she snapped. “For some unexplainable reason, I can feel your pain here.”

“One, I don’t want to get bitten any more than you do, you soggy moldy baby carrot. Two, if you want to get out of here, it would be nice if you wouldn’t be a flaming jackhole of ass.”

She sighed dramatically. It actually made me smile. “Your language is appalling.”

“Pot. Kettle. Black,” I shot back.

“Fine. I will aid you when I can.”

“Thank you.”

“I’d say you’re welcome, but all this compatibility is giving me hives,” she growled.

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