…a cycle that certainly only completes its orbit in periods of time for which our terrestrial year is no adequate measure…

“¿What does it say?” Wiz called down from atop the stepstool.

Liz looked up from the almanac in his hands, the tip o’ his hood flopping down.

“It says to tickle it.”

Wiz rubbed his bearded chin, & then shrugged. “If you say so.”

He reached his thin fingers out to the dim moon & tickled. Suddenly they felt the world—not just the earth, but also the sky—rumble while a deep voice giggled.

The moon’s back opened, revealing a bed o’ wires holding a black box. Wiz extracted it & put in the one he held in his arm.

When he closed the door, they were suddenly blinded by blaring white light.

“¡Augh! ¡Hurry up you idiot!” Salmon Rushdy shouted as he raised a clenched fin @ the long line. “The sharks won’t wait ’bout to give me a headstart; they want me spewing stupid puns on a plaque for portraying the Carcharocles as the Diablodontus.”

He panted as he continued to flop up & down, feeling the waters rush ’gainst him.

“Fuck it,” he said as he turned into the other lane.

“Rushdy, you can’t go in there.”

“Ah, nobody’ll notice.”

But the pelican patrolling the lights did & swooped down over Rushdy, snatching him up into its giant gullet.

When it returned to its perch, it turned to the camera & said, “Always obey traffic laws.”

“Somebody’s gotta mow this lawn, & perd it, I’m not hesitating anymore,” Ram announced, his bugle horns raised high.

The crowd gasped.

“¡It’s too dangerous!”

“We don’t have a choice,” Ram said grimly.

They stepped back as Ram returned to his 4 feet & leaned his mouth down toward the fur.

He started chewing.

They heard the low screech o’ a rusty engine. ’Fore he could respond, Ram was flung far ’way by a huge furry monster.

Far outside, the fleshy creature stared down @ his world as he reached his arms out.

“Come here, Patches; time for your bath.”

“Well, here comes Dr. Crunch, showing off ’gain.”

“¡He’s splashing water all over me!”

“They’re awfully shiny, though.”

“Must be strong if they can withstand that & still eat apples afterward.”

“Dentists hate apples. ¿Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘An apple a day keeps the dentist ’way’?”

“I hear he uses special toothpaste.”

“Uh oh. ¡Looks like he’s going to hit that iceberg! ¡Dr. Crunch! ¡Look out!”

…

“Eeehhh…”

“Yeah.”

“Poor Dr. Crunch.”

“You know, he truly wasn’t that bad o’ a fellow.”

“No.”

“Kept my teeth clean from the molar maggots.”

“Say, ¿who wants to play a game o’ volley ball?”

Night fell.
Panda looked up from chewing his bamboo.
That was when he saw the night lying on the sky,
Arms spread,
Armor shattered,
Blood leaking out.
His pale face looked sucked o’ life,
His eyes starry.
Panda glanced ’round nervously.
¡If the noon sees this, he’ll freak!
So he went to the shed for a shovel
& returned to bury the night under a thick sky o’ cyan.
Noon waltzed through the garden
Just as Panda was finishing.
“¿What’re you doing, Panda?”
“Nothing, sir. Just… ¿Are you all right, sir?”
Noon clutched his chest.
Noon fell.
Panda shook his head & started digging.

She knew that parade was no coincidence—she knew they were sent there specifically by the Jeff to stuff her into 1 o’ his caterpillar jars.

She searched round her & saw a freshly-painted baby blue bench. She slipped ’neath it ’fore the parade arrived.

Unluckily, she didn’t expect them to pick it up as they went & crowd surf it, unbeknown o’ her hanging onto the planks o’ its seat for moose life.

But luckily, they passed all the way ’cross the border, where she was safe from the Jeff. She leapt down & laughed @ them for their foolishness.

They stared @ her, confused, & then passed on.

She couldn’t understand why she was disappointed.

Coach’s nerves throbbed. He leapt out the sea & paddled over to the group, his eyes as cold as the water dripping from his whiskers, his fangs as sharp as an iceberg.

“All right, you shrimpy demands: ¡I want all o’ you to match up with a supply!”

They didn’t hesitate.

However, in their scramble to match together, some demands ended up with multiple supplies, & some supplies ended up with multiple demands.

“Whatever. It all evens out in total, a’least,” Coach grunted. “Come, you tube worms.”

He waddled down the arctic, his faithful supplies & demands boinging ’hind like a parade.

Smells so sticky.

Every nerve in his hand buzzing with energy.

Hours compacted into seconds o’ rush.

He immediately stopped when he heard thumping footsteps outside, & then the door creak open.

“¿Would you take out the trash?”

“Yes, mother.”

The door shuts. The footsteps dissipate.

He clicks his lighter ’gain & eases its luscious flame toward his palm, feeling its warmth gradually climb.

“No privacy,” he muttered.