The Green M&M isn’t Tucker’s First Toon Love

Cosplayers at the 2022 Phoenix Fan Fusion
Wikimedia Commons photo by Gage Skidmore

Two M&Ms walk into a bar. The green one, the sexy lady, is accompanied by a tough blue peanut.

There’s a commentator at the counter with a rabbit on his arm. “Look at them heels.”

Blue Guy sizes him up. “Who you calling a heel?” He gets ready to swing.

“Heels, I like heels.” He’s pointing like crazy at the floor.

“The shoes? Ever tried to walk in them,” Sexy Lady asks.

“You trading them in? I want an exclusive.”

Jessica Rabbit frowns. “Tucker Baby, I’m feeling excluded.”

The commentator says, “Don’t be a Looney Toon, think of the ratings.”

Demon New Year

Photo by Juan Felipe Ramu00edrez on Pexels.com

“The demon lurks around the corner, under the house, under the bed. If you sleep, little one, she will drive you mad.”

“What’s mad.” The tiny child jingled coins rhythmically in a red envelope. The metallic noise soothed. He wake-dreamed of sweets from the shop where a nice old man scooped cones of syrupy ice. Eyes dropped. But something, maybe wisdom, maybe obedience kept deep dreams away.

Fearsome looking, Sui demon opened the door. Leaves swirled underfoot. She reached; she intended an evil touch.The child and his father stirred. Coins clanked together. Moonlight gave chase and Sui melted away.

When Will We Learn

King and Gandhi trudged across the mall in DC. January sleet muddied the streets. Instead of shadows, their spirits cast glowing light over the dark pockets between street lamps.

“You scare me.” An NRA tough pulled out a gun.

King stopped. “That’s because you don’t know me.”

The tough cocked the gun. “I don’t need to. I’m standing my ground.”

Gandhi said, “Let us talk, son.”

“This does the talking for me.” NRA fired.

The bullet spun between the three men, caught in a mighty vortex. King said, “Nothing is more powerful than non-violence. Now put the gun away.”

The Magi and the Cake

Three kings emerged from a swirling storm of sand into 2023. Sand transformed to rain and wind stilled. They parked their camels in front of a cottage to munch sweet grass.

When a woman opened the door, the smell of Gallete du Rois met them. “You came in costume.” It was like they were old friends.

They crossed the threshold and mingled. A babble of languages greeted them: a glass of wine, a piece of cake, a celebration of their gift to a child king, a toast to peace on earth. The magic of it was that all were welcome.

The Rules Suspended

She met him in Classics 101. The Saturnalia party, his idea. The cake hers. Ginny dropped a Roman coin in the corner of the cake pan and marked the batter with food color. She would cut the cake herself and give Leo the piece that would name him Lord of Misrule. She hoped he would carry her away… wasn’t she already carried away with him?

That evening, a dozen classmates gathered in the dorm lounge before winter break for the potluck and gift exchange. Leo tasted like wine and spice when he kissed her. Thus are Saturn’s chaos seeds sown.

Finding Rapunzel

Coco forged through the Enchanted Wood using a sixth sense that led her to Rapunzel’s tower, shimmering in the sun like a mirage. She slipped through fragmented outer planes until toeholds revealed themselves and she climbed to an open window. Peering inside, she saw her friend.

“Who are you,” Rapunzel asked.

Coco cleared her throat. “I’m doing your hair.”

Rapunzel conjured a basin of water and Coco set to work. With a hairdresser’s gift for gab, Coco established that Rapunzel, a lookalike for her friend whose twin had been lost at birth, was that twin.

“Lost,” Rapunzel asked.

“Found,” said Coco.

My Assistant Can Help You

Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Pexels.com

The hairdresser threw a brown cloak on. She told her assistant, “I’ll be out all day.”

In bustled the Queen’s maid. “Glad to find you’re free. Her majesty would like to see you.”

“But…”

“For tonight’s ball. Something simple, elegant.”

“I can’t. You see, my niece is imprisoned in a tower. I do her hair on Saturdays.”

”I’ve heard a lot of excuses. This takes the prize, though.”

The hairdresser felt terrible.
Coco cleared her throat. “I’ll do your niece’s hair.”

The hairdresser said, “You’re not afraid of the Enchanted Woods?”

”Give me a chance. There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

(To be continued)

Straw to Gold; Flax to Linen

The serf, intimidated by the palace representative’s rich velvet livery, sipped a cup of courage and rechecked his supplies. “You want straw? For spinning? It’ll never work.”

“The queen said straw. Strong stalks, not brittle.” The page shifted from one stockinged leg to the other, resisting the urge to hold his nose against the smell of manure from the fields. “What you drinking?”

“Try some. My own grog.” The farmer proferred his cup. “Flax. That’s it. Makes a nice linen. I got some presoaked, ready to spin.”

The page wiped his mouth. “I’ll take a sample, see what she says.”

Close the Door Behind You

“Diana,” Janus said, “So glad you could come.”

The goddess entered through the door of beginnings. She brought the moon’s fertility to Janus’s Table for All Times. She sipped his tea of memories past and future.

“Janus, dear,” she said, “I wish the night would never end.”

“But we must let the sun shine. Start over. Correct past mistakes.”

“Yes,” she said. ”We must think good thoughts- health, happiness, peace, prosperity, especially for the sick, the sad, the beleaguered, and the poor.”

Once again, they closed the endings door, watching the past recede and seeing the present open to change.

To: The New York Review of Books From: The Kraken Community

Kraken poised his eight arms above the laptop keys.

“Fellow Being,” he typed, “Please be informed that your recent review of Monster Tales by George Scholar is deeply injurious to the Cephalopod community, as is the book. Krakens are intelligent creatures whose large size and shy nature provoke unfair depictions in Eurocentric myth. New World cultures recognize our helpful, magical and spiritual natures. Na Kika, an octopus god, built the Pacific Islands and it is a fact that octopuses alone populated our postdiluvian world, not an arkful of animals. In future, please select reviewers with diverse viewpoints.”

Sincerely,

Caleb Kraken

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