I do not own the rights to Tarot, the Witch of the Black Rose, she belongs to Jim Balent. This is just a piece of fan fiction.
***
Twas Halloween night, a night reserved for me to defend Western Civilization against ghastly ghoulish dark forces of the Mole Men, accidental werewolves, sexy bodacious vampiresses, rooty tooty fresh-n-fruity wannabe monarchs, undead Black Lanterns Hellbent on making wanton bloodshed. I relentlessly battled these forces with the assistance of Club Sedux’s most curvy clientele. Club Sedux was always zany and bizarre but Halloween was the pinnacle. It was downright Spooktacular! Dana Tan wouldn’t have it any other way, it was her birthday, but Gotham’s Health Department had other ideas. They shut the doors and locked it up for scores of health code violations.
No telling if Lady White pulled a Lady Blue and failed to pay the usual bribe. Thank God Dana wasn’t around to see this on her birthday. No doubt her evil twin might regenerate herself from Dana’s rabid rage and attempt to nuke Atlanta again.
So, here I was at my donut shop instead of Sedux, handing out dark chocolate pumpkins to all the little ghouls and goblins instead of saving the world with a voluptuous woman in my arm while munching on an apple cider donut. It was a tough job but someone had to do it; sadly it wouldn’t be me on this dreadful cool spooky October night.
There I was bemoaning the fact that I wasn’t need to save the world this year when the front doors burst wide open. My eyes filled with utter disbelief at the sight I beheld, my frenemy the Pumpkin King nearly tripped over half a dozen chairs as he clumsily made his way to the counter. He attempted to jump over the counter, but his viny foot struck the top of the counter. The rooty tooty fresh-n-fruity wannabe monarch tumbled over it and ungracefully fell to the floor. He gave the tiled floor a great big smooch with his mouth. He collected himself, wrapped his viny arms around his slender body and shook like an elm leaf during Hurricane Irene.
For a brief moment I could’ve sworn he had his ‘fingers’ in his grotesquely carved jagged mouth as he continued to shake and shiver behind the counter. I blinked, I blinked again, again I blinked and again. I closed my eyes and shook my head; I opened them and I still saw PK cowering behind my counter.
Okay, this shivering yellow spined monarch wasn’t an undigested bit of a pumpkin donut, a piece of candy corn, a crumb of pumpkin pie, a fragment of a caramel candied apple, or any other Halloween delectable swimming in my stomach. I dryly asked, “PK, what’s the big idea?”
His ‘teeth’ chattered as he stuttered out a shivering reply, “Q-Q-Q-Quiet…my boy…t-t-t-they may h-h-h-hear y-y-y-y-y-y-y-you…”
“They?” I replied putting my head back.
“Where is he!?!” I heard a soft demanding voice booming from the doors.
I turned and saw T-N-T at the door, Tara le Fay and Tarot the Witch of the Black Rose. Rowan Hex marched into the shop with her fist balled full of anger. Thick black chocking smoke billowed from her ears. She looked…different. Tara was right behind her. The smug Sith confidently strolled in like she owned my humble donut shop. She too…looked different.
“Who?” I asked trying to absorb the surreal scene that was unraveling around me.
“By the goddess don’t be coy with my flyboy!” the fiery feisty redhead goddess threatened me as she pointed her soft finger at my face.
Something freaky took place in Salem, Massachusetts; Rowan would never act like this. In fact, something was seriously wrong. Rowan had Tara’s height and figure; the fiery redhead was fully covered. It was amazing, downright unbelievable! Tarot Hex was clothed, dressed in Tara’s Sith skin tight battle attire. It was a miracle; for a moment there I thought the world had stopped turning on its axis. Tara, wearing Rowan’s enchanted battle armor, was scantily clad and nearly bursting forth from her top, she had Rowan’s curvaceous celestial figure.
“Don’t be so harsh on Mr. Donut, Rowan. A 36C chest is nothing to sneeze at…ya know?” Tara mildly chided her best friend as she admired her new figure, her soft hands slowly running over her new creamy swollen chest. “Besides, this will be a perfect excuse to go shopping for new clothes!”
That’s when it hit me; Rowan was Tara, Tara was Rowan. Why not starting acting like PK? He wouldn’t mind. He was too busy cowering behind the counter where I placed my pumpkin donuts. Ironic, isn’t it?
I tilted my head and closed one eye; I shamelessly wagged my finger at the now petite Witch of the Black Rose. “Manners my dear…manners. M-A-N-N-E-R-S. I know your mom taught you manners my dear. When someone is addressed as ‘Mister’ it is a sign of respect. You need to show that respect my dear. The very same respect that Tara showed me. R-E-S-P-E-C-T, that what is has to be…my dear. Tara addressed me as Mr. Donut. ‘Twas very nice of her to address me with respect, obviously her mother taught her well. Manners you are sorely lacking…my dear…as the Swordmaiden of the goddess I thought you above all people would use them.”
Tara smirked as I momentarily stopped and turned to face her, my finger continued to shamelessly point at Tarot. “Tara…my dear. You look splendid tonight…simply splendid! Would you like to dance with me at my sacred pumpkin patch tonight…hmm?”
I turned my attention back to the not-so-amused-witch. She scowled and folded her soft arms across her chest as I once again to shamelessly wag my index finger at her, “You should be ashamed of yourself young lady for treating pumpkin royalty as though it were a common rutabaga knave. Ashamed indeed young lady.”
“You do that too well, Ryan,” Tara interjected.
“Yes, he does,” an unamused Tarot concurred.
The two sensuous beauties exchanged a brief glance and shook their head. Tarot turned back to me, “He’s here, isn’t he?
“BAH!” I thundered as I slammed my fist against the counter. “Blasphemy…simply blasphemy, my dears! I wouldn’t be caught dead as a pumpkin pie loaded with tons of Cool Whip in this Eddie Rickenbacker wannabe’s little shop of horrors! Pumplings by the millions are murdered! They die in vain each year and get turned into abominable creations like donuts, breads, and the aforementioned pies!” Inside I was beaming, I was thoroughly enjoying this and there wasn’t a blasted thing that PK could do to stop me. I continued my rant, “Me being inside this pumpkin purgatory…I think not…my dears. The nerve of you two to suggest that I…the PUMPKIN KING…would be cowering behind the pumpkin donut display. This is Halloween; I should be out scaring those meddling kids and their dog. Please,” I stopped turned to my left as I folded my arms across my broad chest and stuck my snooty nose into the air.
PK suddenly sprang to his feet like he were shot out of an electromagnetic gun rail, his fiery triangular eyes were as large as king sized Oreo cookies. His jaggedly carved face spouted pure horror, “Bill! George! Ralph! MY PUMPLINGS!”
Tara and Tarot sneered as they reached for their fierce weapons. Tarot’s mystical sword and Tara’s purple light sabre struck PK’s orange rotund gourde head. Swirling mystical purple and aqua energies danced around PK, ethereal streaks of pink flew from his severely lacerated head. PK let out a pathetic scream of agony and shrunk into a single radiant point of light. A pumpkin pie loaded with tons of Cool Whip landed on the counter as the radiant point of light dimmed into nothing.
I looked up and Tara and Tarot’s figures were back were they belonged. The Sith grimaced and poohed, “Well, there went a perfectly good excuse to go shopping.”
Tarot’s goddess face sported an evil gleeful smile, “What’s the big idea Tara, a 36C is nothing to sneeze at…ya know?”
I quickly broke out three plates and forks before the two succulent ladies could get into a cat fight and level my humble little shop of horrors. “Ladies, it’s Halloween! Time to celebrate PK’s just desserts!”
Yes, we had a delicious time celebrating PK’s just desserts; that is until a freckled face thirteen year old boy wearing spectacles walked into the shop. He was dressed up as Harry Potter. His face lit up as he spotted Rowan. He smiled widely, showing off his new shiny gaudy braces, as he pointed his scrawny thin finger at the fiery redhead, “Hey! You’re that naked supernatural chick I saved last Halloween!”
Poor Rowan…
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