Sabatoging and a Wig

A warm breeze blew over Richard as he strolled out onto the street. There was a pep in his step as he whistled a song that he couldn’t tell was off tune. Clutched in his hand was a beautiful array of flowers.

Things seemed to be going just his way. Morrigan had asked him out on another date, but found a place they could both eat at with the most affordable price of for free. Not sure how she pulled that off, but he wasn’t going to question it further.

He wanted today to be perfect. Maybe today would be the one where he would finally get lucky. So he cleaned up as best as Richard possibly could. In simple terms, he found his least stained shirt and brushed as much dirt off of it as he could.

“OK, Richard,” he whispered to himself as he picked up his comb, “You’ve got this. Don’t screw this up. No Goblin stories, she doesn’t like that. Complement her horns, she likes that. And don’t mention the fiery glow in her eyes. That’s normal and upsets her.” Styling his pompadour with as much product as he could find, it shined brilliantly and now came with a warm, piney scent.

Skipping his way out of his house, he slammed his front door that was barely held together with duct tape after it had been kicked in previously. Even more surprising, a beautiful bouquet was left out for him to pick up. Lovely white lilies, ones Morrigan would probably find pretty, were left out by some poor dumb idiot unattended in the graveyard he took a shortcut through.

Things were slowly coming up Richard.

That’s why he found it odd when he immediately turned a corner down a back alley, another shortcut, to find a merchant’s cart parked sideways across the entire pathway, completely blocking the way. He eyed the sign to the side curiously: “Love Boosting Products—Discounts for Dicks!” The strange little stall was covered from end to end with handmade, clearly recently thrown together, and unlicensed objects. Some were still shimmering with magic residue.

“Hello there, Fellow human!” A frighteningly deep voice surprised Richard, who jumped back to see the vendor raising out two clawed hands to greet him. Standing at least 8 feet tall was the owner of the bizarre bazaar, whose massive orange Afro sat oddly sideways on his head. He was wearing a strangely militaristic uniform, with brass ribbons glittering on his broad chest. Over it all was a thin leather apron marked “REAL MERCHANT”.

Richard recoiled slightly, “Why… are you yelling?”

“I have a condition!” The Vendor answered in a booming accent Richard couldn’t quite place.

“Uh, I see. Sorry to hear that…” Richard muttered as he covered his now sore ears in an attempt to ease their pain. “So anyway, I’ll just be going…” The pudgy adventurer tried to slide away from the scene with a sidle to the side.

But he found himself cut short by the massive paws of the merchant wrapping around his shoulders and placing him back in front of the stall as easily as a child would play with a doll for tea time.

“Come, stay, buy!” His rumbling voice thundered in the isolated alleyway. “I have wares for your needs! Many cursed–I mean, enchanted items for seducing your… hot date.”

Those final words echoed not only loud enough to scare away the birds on the clothes lines stretched between buildings above them, but also deep within Richard’s very being.

“How… did you know?”

“Lucky guess!?” The merchant shrugged coyly.

Richard could only eye the giant seller suspiciously. The gnarled horns poking out through the misshapen mess of an Afro and mouth full of fangs raised some pretty big red flags in his mind. But then the immortal words of Momma Dixon rang from within his heart.

“Salesmen are people too. There’s no reason to be afraid of them,” the soothingly gruff tone of his mother dearest stirred within him. The visage of her slicking back her pompadour before she continued, “Now hurry up and go get my happy juice. Momma’s feeling frisky tonight.”

Releasing a long exasperated sigh, Richard conceded to his mother’s whims. “Alright, fine, but there better be something good here.”

“Of course!” The merchant waved his hand over his wares, adding an air of mysticism to them, “Come, look, buy!”

And so Richard did. First to catch his eye was a bottle of cologne. The sticky note on it read “Aphrodisiac Perfume”.

“Does it work?” Richard questioned as he uncorked the top.

“Of course, it works like a charm each time!”

“Then why does it smell like skunk?” He barely got out through retches and burning eyes.

“Eh, must have expired,” the merchant tossed the bottle behind him, “But what of this exquisite item?” In the middle of the giant’s offering hand was a small silver ring.

“What does this one do?” Our hero turned it over in his own hand curiously, preparing to wear it.

“It allows the wearer to pause time around him as he wishes! A great use to cop a feel if you catch my drift!”

Richard chucks the ring as far as he can. “That sounds incredibly illegal!”

“Alright! Alright!” The merchant scowled, clearly insulted by that last remark, “Final offer!”

“Those are just tube socks…”

“Confidence boosting socks!”

As the merchant finished his correction, the socks rose up on their own like slithering serpents, the openings curling and began speaking, “You got this, King!” “Who’s a sexy beast? You are, Bro!”

Richard rubbed his stubbly chin. “You know, that might just work.”

But then, high above, the deep chimes of the church bells rang out, calling the hour.

“Shit, I am late!” Richard pushed his way past the stall and disappeared around the next bend. He ran back just long enough to yell out, “Good luck on your sales!” before taking off again.

“Curse you, Dixon!” Zarek grumbled, stripping the wig from his head, “You won't be able to resist my next plan!”

***

Richard ran as fast as his out of shape heart allowed him to.

But it wasn’t long before a familiar cry caused him to temporarily change directions.

“Oh no! My poor little kitty is stuck in a tree!”

“Free cash!” Richard’s eyes shone with gold coins, “I mean, a little girl in need of paying me for rescuing her cat!”

Flipping his head around like a fish flopping on a boat’s deck, the desperate man searched for his next reward. Though he nearly felt his neck snap to a halt when he found what he thought he was searching for.

Dressed in a little pink dress with blonde braids going down her back, Richard found the little girl crying under a tree pointing upwards into the branches above.

“Hey, uh, little girl?” Richard approached apprehensively, “You’re cat’s stuck in that tree?”

The little girl nodded, “Please save my little Fluffykins! He’s afraid of heights!”

Something was off, Richard could feel it. And that feeling became more pronounced where the little girl was pointing. High in the thicket of the tree was a brown lump of some sort mewling timidly. But when Richard squinted to get a better look at it, the shape was obviously stitched together recently with a tape player stapled to it sloppily. The track it was playing was quite guttural for a cat’s cry for some reason.

“Go on!” The little girl boomed from behind him, “Get up there and save my cat! Oh, and ignore the fuse burning near his head. That’s normal!”

“Hey, uh, little girl?” Richard turned around and craned his neck up to stare and the broad shouldered girl fake crying behind him with a military uniform under her ill-fitting dress, “Why… are you yelling?”

“It’s a condition!”

“Right…” He only shook his head and began to continue his run to Morrigan, “Listen, I am kinda in a rush-”

The little girl’s giant clawed hand grabbed his shoulder and kept him in place. “No! You are morally obligated to go up there and explode- I mean save my cat!”

“Let go of me, you freaky little girl!”

Finally, Richard was able to slip through her grip, skedaddling away as quickly as possible.

Zarek threw the braided wig on the ground and stomped on it repeatedly.

“Damn you Dixon!” He roared to the heavens, “You shall not escape my final plan!”

***

Nearing the end of his ability to run for the rest of his life, Richard neared the final bridge that would lead him to his date. A swell grew within him as he forced himself on the last bit needed before maybe he could get some.

But, like normal, that dream was quickly dashed.

As he got to the bridge, he found it coned off with a barrier placed in front of it. Standing in front of it was the construction worker dressed in a military uniform with a bright safety vest over it. Sticking out from his razor sharp teeth was a whistle that he puffed on rhythmically to usher people away with his stop sign. On the top of his head high above was a white construction helmet and two safety cones on both of his horns poking through the helmet.

“Bridge is out! You’ll have to go around! Through the Lost Woods!”

“Why… are you-?”

“It’s a condition!” the gigantic construction worker answered before Richard could finish his question.

This rubbed Richard a little wrong, but that was until he saw the sign beside the worker. It was a cute drawing of another worker bowing apologetically with the words “Please excuse our mess”. They knew how to get him, politeness and cute characters.

“Well, Momma always said to trust construction workers,” He shook his head and prepared to take the detour, “especially if they tell you to be safe by going another. Alright, thanks!” Richard waved back to the giant worker, who waved back with a clawed hand a crimson glint in his eager eye. And with that he sprinted with renewed vigor.

Deep into the Lost Woods on the edge of town. The ones that exuded an eerie evil aura and crackled with a storm brewing above them alone.

***

Morrigan sat alone at the booth of the diner she found for her date with Richard.

She had found a cute outfit to wear just for him and was desperately waiting for him to see her in it. It had been the main reason for the outing in the end.

But there she sat timidly rubbing her hands between her legs as she patiently waited for the one who strangely made her heart beat faster.

She cautiously checked the time on the clock tower in the square above. Once. Twice. And now a third time.

Her nervousness had slowly dwindled away and was subsequently replaced with a frustrated tilt to her brows.

A waiter tentatively approached her once again with paper and pen ready to take her order. But Morrigan only raised her hand to stop him before he got too close.

“Don’t worry,” She sighed, “He’s coming.”

The words were more meant to reassure herself than to shoo the waiter away, but he took his cue and scurry off. Now more frustrated, she rested her chin on her hand with a half lidded glare out into the town square.

“Why do I feel like Zarek is involved somehow?”

Somewhere far off in the distance, a booming sneeze could be heard.