Third Fix

                                                     Third Fix

Apparently, the green curtains in this realm had bad tempers. They wrapped around Lil C.’s head, and for a full minute he struggled to escape, while Yuki giggled and helped untangle him.

This time the kids landed in a very strange place.

Below stretched a boundless plain, like a sea—but with no water, no shells, nothing from the -Mandatory Sea Starter Pack. No waves at all, just endless smooth sand. A brand-new kind of desert.

-Whoa, looks like some giant pupper drank up all the water here, Lil C. marveled.

-Yeah… that’s one big dog bowl, Yuki agreed. They fixed their eyes forward and kept walking. No use trying to figure out directions—they couldn’t anyway. Forward was enough.

They hadn’t gone a hundred steps when they heard loud music. It came from behind a massive sand mound, clearly piled up on purpose. Rounding the strange ridge, they came upon the heart of this dry ocean—a wooden stage gleaming with lacquered veins.

On it strutted woodpeckers in work overalls, drumming precise rhythms with their beaks. They’d pause, then hammer out another beat. Off to the side stood a coffee machine on two bulging legs, wheezing and puffing steam in time with the percussion. Each breath laid down a bass track that shook the air.

Also on the platform, giant mosquitoes in ballet tutus squeaked in harmony, tiptoeing hand in hand to match the music. The guitar solos came from two performers: a green crab, carefully cradling his instrument in his claws, plucking strings while adjusting the amp—and beside him sat a pale young man with a thin, artistic face. He shouted,

-I majored in bassoon at the conservatory and was supposed to play at La Scala! But I swear—this is the best gig of my life! And he shredded his guitar, lost in the frenzy.

Beneath the stage, on warm sand (the kids kicked off their shoes to feel the heat), sat Pom-Pom, buried to his ears in popcorn boxes, clearly waiting for the soundcheck to end. Spotting the twins, he waved a tub without pausing his crunching.

-Take a seat… nom nom… cheese, bacon, or licorice? Licorice’s trending right now.

-I’ll take anything! Lil C. cheered, throwing dignity aside and diving headfirst into the snacks. Yuki picked only a few kernels—one turned into a fork, another into asparagus, which instantly skewered itself.

-Figures, she frowned, setting the fork aside, waiting for the show to begin.

-And where’s Mami? she asked Pom-Pom.

-Right there. Conducting the orchestra!

Rising up a bit, Yuki finally noticed Glasses darting back and forth with a stick tied to her left lens, waving it like a baton and barking at the musicians.

-Ladies and gentlemen, you’re too slow and clumsy. A demanding audience that bought tickets to our show will not forgive such sloppiness. She scolded a drowsy baby hippo with a flute and his partner. -Every move here must be precise—this is a musical, after all. I won’t allow my favorite genre to be desecrated, do you hear me? Where’s the emcee? When is she crawling in already?!

On the long stage stretching into the sand hill, green curtains materialized.

-Ah, you again! I’ll get you one of these days! Lil C. threatened with his mouth full of popcorn, still wrestling Pom-Pom for the tastiest bag.

The curtains parted theatrically, and out slithered a massive snake, winding its coils lazily—except for Mami’s constant yelling to hurry up. The music stopped. Everyone waited patiently as the snake made her way to the mic stand.

She raised her heavy head, coiling her brown-and-green checkered body tightly, and squeaked in a surprisingly thin voice:

-I’m just a regular anaconda. Was napping in the jungle, wrapped around some kind of palm tree—coconut, maybe? I’m no florist, so don’t quote me. Then I got a call: ‘Cover for a sick host.’ So here I am, doing an extra shift. Please don’t judge too harshly.

Not willing to listen to her excuses, Pom-Pom tossed aside his popcorn, leapt up, and clicked his heels for emphasis:

-Anacond, Comic-Con, Marathon, Gong, what’s going on? Dong… ding dong? He trailed off.

Silence. Then Mami sighed heavily: