Fable pulled Loki’s arm harder. “Did he say Ma’am? That’s so cool.”
What was supposed to be a scary night looking for a Boogeyman was turning into an unexpectedly lovely night out with new friends. That wasn’t something he’d thought probable coming to Sorrow. It wasn’t even something he’d ever experienced. Good friends, jokes, and good moods, and some adventure to boot. What more could he have asked for? For the first time Loki wondered, for only a fraction of a second, if home would be as much fun.
18
Spooky Woogy Boo!
The Closet buzzed with partying Boogeymen like bees looking for honey. Most of them were unusually tall, wearing strange clothes that made them look like they were dressed for a masquerade party, not a typical night out on the town. It reminded Loki of the Deadly Ever After Party, only with adults who for the most part were dressed as pirates.
The rate of clicking glasses was intense. The pirate-looking goers spilled beer from the edges of their big wooden cups, the laughter and cheering getting louder than the band performing on the stage. It was a five-man boogie band, and they were like nothing Loki had seen before. Their instruments were oversized enchanted animals. The drum set was a huge octopus that held differently sized cymbals and drum pieces in each arm. Its head was used as the enormous front bass drum. The drummer struggled when the octopus wasn’t holding still and had to stretch his arms to hit the unstable drum pads. The singer’s microphone was a giraffe’s neck sticking out of the floor, leading Loki to assume its body was buried underneath the stage. The bass and lead guitar players held flamingos instead of guitars, strumming their stomachs and changing the chord positions on their necks. The guitar strings ran from each flamingo’s beak all the way to their necks, which were longer than usual. Every time the guitar players strummed a flamingo’s stomach, it got ticklish and bent its neck, causing the player to strum the wrongs notes. And last, but certainly not least, the piano was one big turtle. Its legs held it still on the floor, and its shell was open at an angle like a baby piano’s lid, even though it was no baby. Where the turtles head should have been sticking out, there was a keyboard. The keys were green and black instead of white and black, and they were slimy. Whenever the piano player struck a note, a number of frogs pulled the strings inside to create the desired tunes. Loki hated frogs, so he made sure he’d stay away. He also thought the piano player had nothing to fear. This big turtle wasn’t going anywhere, and if it did, it’d be in slow motion.
Still, the customers in The Closet were unimpressed by the band. Everyone was occupied with a seemingly much more important event taking place right in the middle of the hall.
Loki and his friends couldn’t see what everyone was looking at. They tried to squeeze themselves through the big crowd to get closer.
“I have a better idea,” Fable said. She crawled on all fours, finding her way under the pirate’s legs, but she had to stand up again when she was road-blocked by a couple of heavy boots.
The crowd cheered enthusiastically. Loki and the rest were curious to know what it was everyone was looking at. They forgot about the Baby Tears for the moment.
Stuck in the middle, Loki took another look at the crowd. None of them looked monstrous, although most of them wore eye patches, pirate hats, and too much jewelry. They also acted like pirates; loud, vulgar, and full of themselves. Most of them had bad teeth with green slime drooling from them. They were proud of it.
“Hey you,” Lucy yelled at a partygoer. “Is Georgie Porgie here?”
The man thought he heard something first then looked away. Of course, they were all way shorter than he was. Lucy, in her bratty feistiness, punched him. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”
The truth was she was talking to his stomach.
Loki noticed that Fable was pleased with the way Lucy treated people without fear or hesitation.
“Whaddya want, kiddo?” the man looked down at her.
Lucy shrugged. It struck her that talking to him might be a bad idea. He was intimidating with a big smirk on his face, showing his awful yellow teeth.
“N-nothing,” Lucy said, as she backed away from him. The man’s breath was unbearable.
“Wow,” Axel said. “My poop doesn’t smell that bad.”
“Apologies Mr—” Fable interrupted, trying to save the day.
The man’s eyes lit up as if he’d seen Santa Claus then smiled at Fable.
“How does she do that?” Axel scowled.
“How can I help you, little kiddo?” the man asked Fable.
“We’re looking for someone,” Fable yelled as she was squeezed by the crowd. “Someone called Georgie?” Fable shrugged; afraid the man would laugh at her. “Georgie Porgie?”