Larry Fantasio

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Microwave Explosion
2/10/2024 11:56pm



The Queen had been at the salad bar for a long time.

"That's quite a salad she must be building," I said.

Black Herminone cackled from inside my bag. "Well maybe we best go check on her," she said.

I hiked the big purse over my shoulder and gave the waiter a nod just to let her know I wasn't planning on dining and dashing. She didn't look like she'd care either way.

"Salad bar?" I asked.

"No thank you," said the waiter.

I followed the sign down a carpeted hall, past an empty banquet room. Sticky high chairs lined the walls, booster seats, the occasional zoom broom.

"The salad bar was near the front, when we came in," I whispered to Black Hermione.

"It's the SPECIAL salad bar," she said, then started cackling again.

I turned the corner to find The Queen of the Hudson standing before mountain of flowers. And on that mountain of flowers stood a huge, fat, naked woman with golden hair and yellow skin.

"Is this some kind of hippie wedding?" I asked Hermione.

"Oh you bet it is," she said. "For one damn old hippie!"




Microwave Explosion
7/14/2023 11:56pm



I'd certainly seen better salad bars.

"Panhandler's has specials," Black Hermione's wooden head said from inside my man-purse.

What they lacked in fresh microgreens was made up for by the range of more classic ingredients. Beets, garbanzos, a tuna niçoise. But what were these specials?

"WAITER!" Black Hermione screeched from her bag. The @Queen of the Hudson shuddered.

The waiter wasn't a man. And dressed in nothing more official than a Panhandler's brand apron.

Black Hermionie twitched in her bag. The Queen took the cue.

"What are your specials today?" asked the Queen.

"Same as every Friday. Clam chowder, fish and chips, fish sticks, fish fillet, fish sauce, fish gravy, fish soup."

"And can you tell me where you source your fish?" asked the Queen. "Here, in Amarillo?"

The wait person was perplexed.

"Clam chowder," Black Hermione said in a stage whisper. "In a bread bowl."

"Clam chowder, all around!" I said. "In bread bowls."









Microwave Explosion
12/21/2022 11:58pm



Wichita. The Airship Capital of the World.

We found a diner with adequate mooring at the confluence of the Big and Little Arkansas Rivers.

"It's like the reed-covered lodge, by the little-water place!" said the Queen, delighted.

"It's a quonset hut," I replied.

But the food was good. Odd flat hamburgers with fried edges. Excellent pickles. We sat outside at a picnic table.

"Mmmph mmmph mm mmph mmph mmmph" went the suitcase.

I opened it up a crack.

"Take me around the back. Like you're going to the restroom," said Black Hermione. Well, not actually Black Hermione, but the ventriloquist dummy head that held the downloaded consciousness of Black Hermione. "And finish that Coke! Bring the bottle!"

I tucked the dummy head under my arm and finished my soda.

"Burp."

Around the back of the hut, it was like a small dump. And old tractor, a pile of wooden crates. Busted refrigerator with the door sprung open.

"Köppen CLA!" called Black Hermione. "You tired of this garbage dump yet? I can't believe you're still spending your days here, with everything that's going on."

Slowly, a dust devil took shape in the dirt. It grew to about the size of you or me. Just spinning. Spinning rather... languorously. For a dust devil.

"Awww... Hermione...." it whistled. "You've... changed..."

"Well I'm still kickin!" the head said. I wasn't sure if this was a joke because she had no legs. "But this place is killing you! There ain't hardly no winds left in Wichita!"

"But... it'sssss.... my place...."

"'Where the rivers meet, I will create'... yada yada. But seriously, you're getting decrepit, moping around in all this human junk. You need to take a little road trip with us. See the sights! I promise we'll bring you back and you'll have a whole new outlook."

The dust devil pondered for a moment.

"Hold that bottle out," Hermione whispered to me.

Then she turned and shouted "Köppen CLU!" and the dust devil up and zoomed into my bottle, like a miniature tornado.

"Now plug it!" Hermione hooted. "Stuff your hankie in there!"

And that's what we picked up in Wichita.










Microwave Explosion
7/16/2022 7:23pm



Yeah well the air wasn't *that* fresh.

"Just wait till we get out of the facility," said the Queen.

We came up out of the tunnel and into a vast warehouse. Two bangs on the back door, then a pause and one more.

"We're good," said the Queen, and the back doors opened.

One workman, apparently human, in a gray jumpsuit. The embroidered name tag said Chuck.

"Back, and to the left. Exit door says Alarm will Sound but ignore it."

"Thanks Chuckles" said the Queen.

"Always a pleasure, Daffy," said Chuckles. "See you around."

We slipped out the back, through the alarmless exit, and into an alley. The sign on the service door across the alley said Omaha Clone Housing Authority.

"Best part is," said the Queen, "we don't even need to call a cab. Airfield is due east. Hardly a mile."

Something still smelled funny.

"You can take the nose off now," said the Queen.








Microwave Explosion
2/9/2022 10:11pm



For a clown bar, it wasn’t very cheery. 

First of all, it was dark. A few bare lightbulbs hung from the ceiling, but the dozen or so clowns hung to the shadows. At least it seemed like a dozen or so. You can never tell with clowns. 

“Just act natural,” said the Queen. “Let’s belly up to the bar.”

“What am I supposed to order?” I asked, under the brim of my hat. 

“Seven Layer Pousse-Café,” she told the bartender. “Same for him.”

Nobody seemed to take notice of us at the bar. It could have been a place to get into a fight, but it didn’t seem like a clown biker bar. These clowns were far more furtive. 

“What exactly are we looking for here?” I asked. 

“These clowns live on the edge. They don’t spend all their time in Clown Town. Sometimes they paint their faces and spend time above. They work undercover, as double agents, or newscasters. They get day jobs, as school janitors, birthday party performers, bankers. Some just like it better above. Some even end up marrying and having children, keeping their clown identities secret.”

“Well if it isn’t Queen Daffy," said a ridiculous voice behind us.

"Chuckles!" said the Queen, turning to face the giant, overall-clad clown. "Just the clown I was looking for. I'm looking for a ride out of Clown Town. And no questions asked."






Microwave Explosion
10/26/2021 10:26pm



"Well that was an awkward transition," I said.

The Queen of the Hudson closed the hidden panel. It was a tight squeeze, but naturally I'm double jointed.

"Trouble is," I continued, standing and stretching, "now we're trapped even more, holed up in the clown hole." The place smelled like greasepaint. "When the cabbie sees we're gone, all he's got to do is toss some laughing gas down here and it's curtains."

The Queen had gathered herself up and was pacing the compartment. You could fit a good 15 clowns in here. More if they were small clowns.

"You've heard of the Infinite Clown Car gag, right?" she asked.

"It's just a story. Apocryphal. Clearly a promotional myth."

"No." She turned to me abruptly. "I've seen it. I... got a little too close to the clowns, once upon a time. They insisted on showing me their mystery plays."

"But 'infinite?' Seriously? I mean, by definition it'd be impossible."

"Well, not infinite. But three hours straight it was I witnessed. They just kept coming and coming and every tenth clown had a yellow wig and we had to drink."

"Sounds like they had you hoodwinked."

"Oh I was stage sipping. And those clowns never stopped."

"So?"

"So I think there's more to the clown compartments than you might know."

And with that she popped another panel in the back. This one was big enough to walk through.

"Don't forget the suitcase," she said.

"MmmMmmmp mmm," went the suitcase.






Microwave Explosion
7/27/2021 11:28pm



It was chilly on a street corner in Old Town Omaha in the middle of the night. And the streets were empty.

"Still got that cabbie's number?" asks the Queen.

"MMmmmmph mmmmmmph mmmmmph" went the dummy in my suitcase.

I cracked it open. Even if it was just the uploaded consciousness of Black Hermione, it was still a real part of her, right? My teacher, my mentor, my friend...

"I said," continued the dummy, rolling its wooden eyes as its head turned on its neck, "What are you numbnuts still doing out here? You want to get us all killed? C'mon! Scoot!"

"We're calling a cab."

"Yeah, no you're not. Lemme let you in on a little secret, kid. This hidey-hole's burnt. You led them right to it. Now we're on a one way trip to The Color Volcano! Power Electric and Ultra Flash!"

"We're... what? How long?"

"47 seconds till the big show! Now with Sparkle Additive."

I slammed the suitcase shut and started running.

"Come on! This way!"

As we rounded the corner of the block we were almost run over by a cab. The cabbie from before.

"GET IN!" and "DRIVE!" and "THAT WAY!" were words I yelled as the entire block behind us blew up in a technicolor fireball.






Microwave Explosion
4/28/2021 9:42pm



"Ha Ha Ha Ha! Welcome to the House of... the House of.. aCHOOO!"

The mechanical clown doubles over violently, then reconstructs itself upright.

"Ha Ha Ha Ha! Welcome to the House of... the House of.. aCHOOO!"

Our little cart is rolls on its track, past the animatronic horror, and bangs open the door to the next room.

"Ow," says the Queen. "I don't care if these seats are padded--that landing was dangerous."

"I suggest you strap in."

In the next room, we enter a rotating tunnel. Splotches of green glowing in the black light. It's a slowly rotating tube. Pipe organ music plays maniacally.

"Uh, I'm feeling sick," says the Queen. The spinning is getting faster, and the tunnel seems to curve before us. A wandering, dizzying path.

BANG we bash through the next set of doors.

"Now," says a mechanical robot doctor, "Eees bees nafraze, kichi bu fumbi." He brandishes a giant cartoon hypodermic needle.

"Oh my kondo, olay. Oh my kondo, olay," I reply with the pass phrase.

The doctor drops the needle. A spotlight appears on an oversized old fashioned eye chart.

"Please cover your eyes and read this chart aloud."

"Eye, don't want, no, bod-eee"

The floor drops out, and our tiny cart speeds down the track, roller coaster style.

"Yes, yes, I"m strapped in," yells the Queen over the noise. "It doesn't mean this isn't dangerous and stupid!"

Suddenly, the cart launches from the track, shooting up through space, and directly towards a large ring of fire.

We enter the ring, and our momentum abruptly slows. We are floating in the center of a ring of fire. Several tendrils of flame reach out and reach our bodies. We can't feel a thing.

And suddenly POOF the houselights come up. We're sitting in a tiny two person cart, poised on something like a mechanical bull apparatus. Or an oversized children's penny ride at the grocery store or a mall.

"Looks like we passed," I told the Queen. "This way."






Microwave Explosion
2/2/2021 10:51pm



"So, you folks from outta town?" the cabbie asks.

"Yep! In town for the big convention! We're with the press." Her Queenship is quick on her toes.

"Well, that explains the lack of broomsticks!" the cabbie guffaws. "So, where're you from?"

"I'm from Fort Worth, and my colleague is from Des Moines."

"Ah, colleague. I get it!" the cabbie says with a wink. "Well if you're from outta town, I know the place where you gotta get your steaks. Everybody who comes to Omaha has to have a steak, and they think they know just the place they gotta go because they read it in the Ghost Guide, but lemme tell ya, I know THE place, and it's right on the way."

"No thanks, bud," I say. "You just take us to that address in China Town and we'll be good."

"Aw but there ain't nothin' there! All the dim sum places dried up, moved to the suburbs. Then the city put in those commemorative statues and messed up the feng shui real good, now there's no business at all down there. At least no business you wanna get mixed up in."

"It's all right," I say. "It's an old family friend. Elderly lady. She lives in one of those rent controlled apartments down there."

"Hmmmph," says the cabbie. "Gotta be a tough old bird to be livin' down there. Nothin' but boarded up windows and drug addicts, you ask me. Some people say they're even startin' to see some of them clones in the neighborhood."

"Clones?" asks the Queen.

"Yeah, can you believe it? Clones! In Omaha! Livin' on the streets. That's why our new mayor's got everybody excited. Talkin' 'bout bringing in the CGA, help clean the place up. Bring the business back, he says."

We ride in silence for awhile.

"Well ok folks, good luck. And keep in mind it might take awhile to get a cab back outta here. Ain't many interested in comin' down here late at night. In fact, lemme give you my number. You wanna call me direct, I'll come back for ya myself. Here you go."

The cabbie shoves a soiled card in my hand.

"Hey, thanks buddy. Keep the change."

"Wha-Ho! Thanks mister! You be sure to gimme a call, huh? I'm your man!"






Microwave Explosion
11/6/2020 11:57pm



It had been a long time since I'd set foot in the House of Foo.

Well, a House of Foo franchise, that is. There was no House of Foo HQ, not for a long while. Maybe not ever.

The House of Foo was originally a company based in Shanghai. At least that much is believed. But House of Foo itself was a made up name. They thought it would sell better to the west if it seemed like the kind of made up Chinese name they were used to hearing, and not some boring, real life, hard to pronounce Chinese name.

So from the very beginning, the House of Foo was a shell company. One that manufactured and exported the finest parlor magic apparatus ever made. The Glissering Manacles. The Ashra Wig. Aerial Fishing. The Zig Zag Roller. And it was the finest parlor magic because it was designed by truly brilliant magicians. Ones that had mastered the engineering it takes to truly and literally bend the reality we live inside of. Magicians like Radium Girl, and Aunt Matilda, and the Aztec Lady.

And my mentor, Black Hermione. I hoped she was still where I could find her.

"So, we're still headed west, 'captain.'" I can hear the Queen of the Hudson rolling her eyes even before she turns around. "Care to get any more specific?"

"Omaha," I tell her, leaning back in the chair. "We're headed to Omaha."






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