to either read the book or watch the movie.
“Whoops, my bad,” she cackled as golden smoke wafted out of her nose. “I’m real honored that you’ve come to have a trim. Never thought I’d have the chance to de-hair the nuts of a celebrity.”
“Trust me, you won’t,” I assured her.
“Just take them pants off, and I’ll have ya as clean as a whistle in a jiffy,” Mammy announced as she put the beans-n-franks on the bottom step.
“What the fuck?” I hissed, as I glanced over at Lizard and Murry in alarm.
“Umm… Mammy, Blade just had his balls waxed yesterday,” Murry said. “His nards are in fine shape right now.”
I was torn between incinerating Murry and letting him hug me again.
“Well, now that’s a damned shame,” Mammy said, shaking her head sadly. “Next time ya need a trim, I’m hoping you’ll come on back.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, delighted I didn’t have to electrocute her.
“Ya do that,” Mammy said. “Now, Murry, ya have a good time in Hell and mind yer manners. Ya want the beans-n-franks to go?”
“Nope,” Murry said.
“Yes,” I quickly corrected Murry. “My mate would enjoy them.”
“Is she in need of a trim?” Mammy inquired as if that was a normal fucking question.
“No. Never,” I replied, closing my eyes and wondering how in the Hell I was in a basement on Earth having this conversation with fools.
“Alrighty then,” Mammy said as she blew a perfectly circular smoke ring from her nose and produced a snap lid for the beans-n-franks. “Ya can keep the crock. I got tons.”
“Excellent,” I replied, taking the crock and handing it to Lizard.
“Yer welcome,” Mammy said.
“I didn’t say thank you,” I ground out as my fingers began to shoot black sparks.
“Actually, you did just say thank you,” Lizard pointed out unhelpfully.
“I most certainly did not. I never say thank you,” I snapped.
“Said it twice in a row,” Murry said.
“Did not.”
“Did,” Mammy shot back with a wide grin on her wrinkled face.
I paused and realized they were correct. That simply wouldn’t do.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I said, crossing to the far side of the basement and blowing up the television with a flick of my fingers.
“Daayum,” Mammy said in appreciation. “Yer awfully powerful for a romance author.”
“He’s the Lord of Dark Shit,” Murry told his mother. “He’s got a mission for me, and we’re gonna get us a two-hundred-dollar gift card to the Red Lobster, a few extra wigs since there’s a fine chance I’ll be bald fer a while, and a lifelong season pass to the Monster Truck Rally.”
Mammy’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and I quickly covered my jewels again. She was clearly far smarter than her son. The old Dragon was probably going to up the payment with something unacceptable like world domination.
“It’s gonna cost ya a little more than that to have my Murry risk his life, Lord of Dark Crap,” Mammy announced, looking far scarier than she had only moments ago.
What was it about mothers that was so terrifying?
“And what more would you like?” I asked, letting my eyes glow red.
Mammy didn’t even flinch. She was either brave or extremely blind.
“We want everything Murry asked for and…”
“And?” I questioned tersely.
Mammy grinned. “I want a Ball Shop in Hell.”
“A Ball Shop?” I asked, not following.
“Yep,” Mammy said. “I’m gettin’ tired of the human plane. I’ve burnt down so many dang houses trying to keep my Murry hairless, I figure a little inferno or ten in Hell won’t make no difference.”
She had a point—a horrifying one. Hell was full of fire… especially the Basement where the evilest of the evil resided. Maybe I could make this work. Mammy on the loose could terrify the masses.
“Is location in Hell an issue?” I asked as I heard Lizard choke back a snort of laughter.
“Nah, the more fire the better,” Mammy said.
“We have a deal,” I said, knowing I would most likely regret it for the rest of my days. “You can set up shop as long as Murry comes through.”
“I’ll make ya proud, Mammy,” Murry said as he hugged his mother and they commenced with sniffing each other for fifteen minutes.
“Enough,” I snapped as there seemed to be no end in sight of the appalling Dragon ritual.
“I’ll pack our bags, Murry,” Mammy said with one last sniff. “Ya do what the Lord of the Dark Crap says, boy.”
“Will do!” Murry said, shoving some beef jerky into his pocket.
“Are we done here?” I inquired.
“I believe we are,” Lizard said with a smirk.
In a blast of