Lily rolled her eyes. Male stupidity was just as apparent in Othaside as it was in Thiside and probably everywhere else in the universe.
“Get the door, Veszico,” said Lily.
Veszico floated up out of her pocket and flew like a bullet at the bathroom door, blowing it into a million shards of wood upon contact.
Rumpelstiltskin was gone.
“Damn it!” exclaimed Lily. “Put the frying pan down, you idiot.”
“Not a chance, lady.”
“And put some pants on, that’s entirely more skin than anyone has a right to see upon a first meeting,” said Lily as Veszico buzzed around Robert’s head.
Robert mustered that tiny part of his soul that bore the closest resemblance to courage and swung the frying pan at Veszico. Had Robert known anything about Veszico, this simple act of attempted violence never would have crossed his mind.
The Fairy’s normal blue glow turned a fierce and vibrant red; she snatched the frying pan out of his hand and swung it full circle to smash into the side of his head.
Robert’s head was not conditioned to being hit with hard objects and his brain decided that this was a good time to become unconscious. He fell backward into his coffee table, smashing it into several small pieces.
“Nice swing, but not really why we came here. Find Jack and tell him I’ve found Darkly but the Dwarf is gone. He’ll still be here in Othaside, probably looking for a passport so he can get back. Tell Jack I’ll meet him at the Exchange and tell him I’m bringing Robert Darkly with me.”
Veszico shook her head and pointed angrily at the unconscious naked man.
“I know, Veszico, but he’s involved somehow and we need to know how.”
Veszico hmphed, turned a light greyish kind of color, and flew out of the window, instantly blending in with the dark clouds.
“All right, Robert Darkly, son of a madman, time to wake up.”
Sad irony existed throughout the Universe. Ironically, the fact that it was sad didn’t stop it from being amusing to outside observers. This was the case with the North London Association of Khuzdophobia Sufferers. Khuzdophobia was a term made popular firstly by the online gaming community and secondly by the North London Association of Khuzdophobia Sufferers. Khuzdophobia was the completely non-medical, non-sanctioned, un-technical term that described someone who had a fear of Dwarves.
As with any popular term that isn’t completely real, it immediately garnered a great many followers, hence the formation of the North London Association of Khuzdophobia Sufferers, otherwise known as N-LAKS. Its two hundred and seventy-one international members crossed every demographic known to man. Only twelve of the members actually lived in North London and those individuals met on a sort of weekly basis for group therapy, which consisted of lots of group hugging, stories of close encounters of the Dwarf kind, how to embrace your fear of short people, and so on and so forth. The group rented an assembly hall at a local elementary school that smelled like dust and the sweat of seven-year-olds.
At about the same time that Robert made his wish, Jasper Clementine, the self-appointed lead therapist, was standing in the middle of the group encouraging everyone to admit their fears and discuss their phobia openly.
“All right, everyone, let’s come to order,” said Jasper enthusiastically, and then as an afterthought, “let’s try and leave the tea and cookies until the end of the session, shall we?”
The group shuffled their chairs closer into the circle around Jasper. Jonathan, who was about to help himself to a chocolate chip cookie, backed away from the refreshments and quickly took his seat as Jasper continued.
“I realize it’s been a few weeks since we all met together and I know we all have stories to share, but I’d like to start with Doris. She had quite the ordeal last week while up visiting her sister. Doris?”
Doris was four hundred pounds wearing a strapless, flower-print dress and uncomfortable shoes. That is not to say that the shoes were uncomfortable for her to wear, but rather, the shoes felt uncomfortable having a four-hundred-pound woman standing on them. She leaned forward on the folding chair, which complained to no one in particular.
“Well, I went to see my sister ya see, up in Birmingham, nice place is Birmingham, not really known for its short folk. Anyway, my sister, Alice is her name, says she has a surprise for me and that I should get dressed up, and I don’t really like to get dressed up because I prefer to be comfortable, but as it’s my sister and we don’t see each other much, I thought it’d be nice. Anyway, she ended up taking me to the circus.”
Shocked gasps arose from the group and one twitchy gentleman named Ralph who never said a word and emanated the smell of six-week-old dirty socks shuddered ever so slightly.
Doris nodded in unspoken agreement.
“Well, she didn’t know, did she?” said Doris.
“People should know better,” piped up Jerry, a thirty-something grocery store clerk who moonlighted as a completely ineffective contract killer.
Ralph shuddered in agreement.
“Now, now,” said Jasper, “It’s not for us to judge people who don’t understand our affliction. Please continue, Doris.”
“Well, I didn’t want to insult my sister, she’d got us very nice seats down by the elephants and there’s always the chance that there wouldn’t be any small people. Everything was going fine, the strong man was very impressive, huge muscles, very tight clothing, got me quite flustered for a while. I like tight clothing on a man, you know, and my Barry, well he’s not much to look at, skinny as a rake actually and―”
“Let’s try and stick to the point, Doris,” reminded Jasper.
“Oh, yes, sorry. Anyway, everything was going fine until the clowns came on and there they were; three of them dressed up as miniature lion tamers. Midgets. I couldn’t help myself, I let out a scream that upset the elephants and they took off charging across the circus tent. I bolted from the circus screaming.”
Bolted may not have been the correct term as Doris was unable actually to bolt anywhere. What really happened involved Doris ploughing through the crowd in much the same way a large ice-breaking ship ploughs through ice. Children scattered in her wake, adults trampled other adults underfoot, and one small dog named Bitsy was forever mentally and emotionally scarred for life.
“I couldn’t leave my bedroom for three days!” finished Doris with a flourish, followed by a sad pout.
“Aww,” said the group.
Ralph shuddered.
“That is quite the situation,” said Jasper, shaking his head. “Now there are a couple of different ways to look at this. Should Doris have reacted so strongly knowing she was indeed at a circus, which we all know is the second most common place to find a small person? We all saw the news and we know that several people had to be taken to the hospital after the incident, and then there was that poor little dog that’s probably scarred for life. We must learn to deal with these encounters in a calm and collected man―”
Time momentarily froze. The molecules of Rumpelstiltskin swirled into immediate existence and reformed themselves into the evil little Dwarf holding a large knife. When Robert made his wish, Rumpelstiltskin was able to grant it and therefore immediately vanished from the bathroom, and of course once something disappeared, it must reappear. Rumpelstiltskin knew it was risky, as he could have ended up anywhere, in Robert’s living room, for example, or back in Thiside, or in Bermuda. But, as it turned out, the Universe was not without a cruel sense of humour.
Time un-froze.