City of IF

[Shady Stoat]

Chapter Eleven: Be Careful What You Wish For…

“You want what Dwayne McKismo has?” repeated Elladora, looking up at the poster, critically. “Well, that rules out talent.”

Colleen glared at her. “What would you know?” she snapped. “You’re just a… a servant!”

Dora held her breath as she began a mental count to ten. She got to three before deciding that she preferred to stay angry. Righteous wrath could be its own reward – and she hadn’t been truly irresponsible with a wish for… well… hours now. It was high time that changed!

Smiling nastily, she appraised the girl.

“I believe I can grant your wish rather easily,” she said, with hidden venom. Again, she turned back and critiqued the picture that the girl had pointed to.

“Well,” she muttered, “I think the silk shirt will fit well enough… but we might have to enlarge your feet a little to get into those cowboy boots… and the leopard-print trousers will be just right once we’ve added a little something… extra… like that.”

With a jab of her wand, the job was done. Colleen stared down at her new set of clothing, identical in every way to the ones that Dwayne McKismo had been wearing in the poster. Including a little less hip-room and a little more crotch-space.

And a little more crotch, come to mention it. As she gazed down at the unfamiliar – and unwelcome – bulge, Colleen’s eyes widened. Her head shot up to howl its complaints at the godmother…

…but the godmother was already gone.

---------------

Dora sighed as she returned to her cottage. There were between a dozen and twenty gnomes busying themselves with what was left of the front of her cottage. One gnome, it seemed, wasn’t enough to make her life miserable. She had to be saddled with hordes of the little blighters!

She walked through the front door (still standing in mid-air, supported by nothing but a little gnome-magic), responding with the merest grunts to the cheery greetings of the builders. Heading straight into the kitchen, she put the kettle on and lifted out a chocolate cream-cake from the pantry.

This was the first time in a while that she had been able to grant a wish without pulling in a time-consuming favour. She had a little time off and she was going to put her feet up and enjoy it to the full. That was, as long as Chuzzle didn’t…

As surely as if she had summoned him by the unwilling thought, he appeared in the doorway. He was wearing an uncomfortable grin on his wrinkly little face, and his eyes were fixed on the floor as he shuffled towards her.

Elladora sighed. Well, now was as good a time to talk to him as any. Best to get the unpleasantness over with.

“Ah, Chuzzle,” she said, with false cheeriness. “I was hoping to catch you. We should talk about…”

He stopped within arm’s reach of her (just!) and thrust a bundle of envelopes at her.

“Y’should read yer mail, Miss,” he mumbled. “Top one’s trouble, I ‘spect. ‘Ere yer go.”

As soon as she reached for the letters, he turned and scampered out of the room.

“Wait a minute!” called Elladora, after him. “Chu – oh blast that gnome!”

She could have called again – and louder – she supposed. Frankly, though, it was much easier to put it off. The next time he did something disastrously wrong would do. It shouldn’t be more than half an hour or so, given his recent record.

Instead, she looked at the bundle of envelopes in her hand. The top one did indeed look rather official. It was also bordered in red. Red was never a good colour when it came to official communications.

She sighed, put another cream-cake on her plate and wandered through to the study. Sitting in her armchair, she tore open the letter and read the contents.

Dear Miss Chubb,

RE: Wishes granted for Miss Jacqueline Spiggs

It has come to our attention that you may have been guilty of granting wishes irresponsibly in the case of Miss. J. Spiggs. Given the nature of her wishes, and the fact that she received neither health, wealth or beauty in the traditional senses of the word, complaints have been made and action will have to be taken.

You are required to attend a tribunal to explain your actions. Please turn up at the Schoolhouse at nine o’clock, four days from now.

If you fail to attend, judgment of the case will be made in your absence.

Thank-you
Department For the Misuse of Wands

As Dora read through the post, a growing grin spread across her face.

At last! It looked as if she was going to get that much-awaited black mark on her record. Maybe, at the hearing, she could cite her unhappiness with Fate’s managerial style, embarrass her boss a little further. It could be the tipping of the scales that she had been looking for; the last little nudge to persuade Fate that Elladora simply wasn’t worth the bother of keeping around.

Ah. A nice little retirement cottage in the country somewhere. Maybe she could take up rearing chickens or run a hedgehog sanctuary or something like that. Perhaps in her spare time…

Her mind had been running a pleasant little train of thought while her hands had been busy with the next envelope. As she began to read, the train headed rapidly towards an oncoming cow, hit it, turned a graceful somersault as it came off the rails, burst into flames and created the world’s biggest crater of Boeuf a la Locomotif.

Dear Miss Chubb,

Re: Wishes Granted to Miss Jacqueline Spiggs

It has come to our attention that you recently granted wishes given to an inappropriate source. A loophole in Clause 6888342B, Subsection D, has allowed for the passing of a child’s wishes to their legal Guardian, as you are no doubt aware.

Until this point, our policy has been clear upon this issue. Wishes are not to be granted under such circumstances. Whilst accidental granting is taken into account, the correct procedure has been to walk away and inform the chain of command about the oversight.

However, in examining the consequences of your wish-granting yesterday, it has been decided that your solution to the problem excels over our own. Future predictions are that three orphans will be re-housed as adoptive sisters to their new benefactor, Daniella Brunsdale. It is also 90% likely that Jacqueline Spiggs will be dismissed from her current position and rendered unable to entrap future orphans into surrendering their wishes to her. The positive effects far outweigh any negatives in granting the technical conditions of the wish.

We are recommending to the Powers that, in all future cases, the ‘Elladora Clause’ should be put into practice.

Congratulations, Godmother.
Department of the Investigation of Magical Loopholes and Paradoxes

Dora crumpled the note with an impatient sigh. What sort of place were the Powers running, when no two departments could agree with each other on Limbo policy? Now she was just as likely to get another stupid commendation as a reprimand!

The third letter, however, made her blood pressure rise still further. It read:

To Elladora Chubb,
Fairy Godmother,
Cottage Number 3.

Greetings Fairy-Godmother.

Thank-you for volunteering to be part of the Limbo Youth Training Service. You have opened your doors and your heart to the future generation of Magical and Mythical Entities. You will not regret it!

This letter is just to inform you that, as per your request, Miss Veronica Crumpet will be spending a week at your home, commencing on the twenty second of the month and lasting until at least the twenty ninth – or longer, by mutual request.

Many Thanks,
Limbo Youth Training Service.

Elladora stared at the letter, unable to believe what she was reading. She was unaware of having risen to her feet as her fingers held the paper so tightly that it began to rip.

So – Fate had told the Limbo Administrators that Dora had volunteered to have that… that Crumpet in her house? Well, they would just have to see about that!

With a savage swoosh of her wand, she sped towards the Palace of Threads…

-----------

Dora strode angrily up the path, stopped short of the doorway for a second, hesitated, then marched on. Her face was set in a grim expression as she reached up for the bell rope. She yanked hard, daring it to do something unspeakable to her.

Instead, the most beautiful birdsong called ethereally out at her. Faint and echoey, it sounded like a thousand nightingales, counterpointing each other in a mystic song of the night.

Elladora listened, entranced. After a minute or so, she noticed two things. Firstly, the music was showing no signs of dying and, secondly, the door hadn’t opened. Tutting her frustration, she leaned over to the rope and tugged it again, harder this time.

The song redoubled its haunting beauty. Almost immediately, the door flew open.

Suddenly, haunting beauty became major cacophony. From inside Fate’s house came the noise of a thousand nightingales on steroids, with loudspeakers. Alexander Rose stood in the doorway, with his hands over his ears, shouting something at her. Since she, too, had her hands over her ears, though, she couldn’t understand a word he was saying.

“What?” she screamed, trying to follow his lip movements.

He bellowed, showing remarkable lung capacity for one so weedy.

“Don’t – pull – the – bell!!”

“Why?” she shouted. “What have you…”

Their conversation was cut off rather abruptly by the seemingly endless flock of nightingales that came swooping out of the doorway. Wings fluttered and flapped around them like a feathery maelstrom. They called and chirped and sang as they flew, rending the air with their deafening melody. Random splatters of white bird-gunk landed on their shoulders and in their hair, as the two humans were beating the birds away.

After the longest few seconds of their lives, it was over. The birds soared into the skies and vanished like a particularly sweet-sounding swarm of locusts. As Elladora rubbed at her ears and temples, Alexander Rose turned and hurried back inside the door, without so much as a backward glance at the fairy-godmother.

Once she was convinced that her eardrums were not bleeding, Dora followed him in. There she found Fate’s manservant and Veronica Crumpet in the hallway. Alex was standing in front of the most enormous cage that Dora had ever seen. Veronica was standing inside it, managing to look both foolish and defiant at once.

Alexander was shouting at Miss Crumpet, and yet his words were still curiously muffled to the fairy-godmother’s abused ears.

“I told you not to open the cage door!”

“How was I supposed to know?” protested Veronica. “I couldn’t hear a flaming word you were saying with those birds screaming at me!”

“Screaming?” Alex looked outraged. “That was top quality birdsong, I’ll have you know! I ordered them ‘specially, and I had to fight with Fate to get the budget too. Then there was all that effort to get their song amplified to get through the Palace’s soundproofing. All that hard work – and you’ve let them go flying off to god knows where!”

Veronica looked sulky. “I just wanted to hold one of them. They were pretty. Besides, I didn’t come here to look at silly birds.”

“Then what did you come here for?” Alex asked, applying a particularly fine brand of male stupidity to the situation.

The girl suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Well… I… You haven’t finished giving me the tour yet.”

“I hate to break this up,” said Elladora, sourly, “But I came here to see Fate. Where…?”

“Well, I can’t very well continue the tour now that I’ve got a thousand birds to find and round up,” snapped Alexander, not even glancing in Dora’s direction.

“Oh, forget the birds,” said Veronica, annoyed. “They’re not important!”

Alexander stared at her. “Have you seen what those things cost? How will I explain it to Fate if I’ve lost her latest acquisition? She’s very proud of her special effects department!”

“Well, if you think birds are more important than…”

“Look – is Fate in?” asked Elladora, crossly.

“No.” Alex spared her a brief word before getting back to his argument. “Look – Veronica – if you’re going to be working in Limbo, you’re going to have to follow a few grounds rules.”

“Where is Fate?”

“Well, if you ever bothered finishing my tour, I’d be able to work out whether I wanted to come to Limbo or not,” shouted Veronica. “All you want to do is…”

“... so now you’re saying my job isn’t important?” he flushed in anger.

“Can I just interrupt for a…”

“Well, it isn’t!” Not as important as…”

“As what?”

“As…”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” snapped Elladora, finally losing her temper completely. “Look – she,” (she jabbed a finger at Veronica whilst addressing Alexander), “has a crush on you, alright? And he,” (she turned her attention to Veronica and pointed at Alex), “is trying his best to impress you with how important his job is. Why? Because he likes you as well. Now, for goodness sake, sort yourselves out and stop wasting everyone’s time. Especially mine!”

She breathed hard into the silence that followed. Both of the teenagers were crimson and opening and shutting their mouths like landed fish. When it became obvious that no great revelations were going to follow her wise words, she sighed and returned to her original inquiry.

“Where’s Fate?” she asked Alexander, poking him with her wand to get his attention back.

“What? Oh… ummm… she went to meet with the… uhh… Powers,” he mumbled, gazing everywhere except at the girl inside the cage.

“Right. I’m going to the MAFIA Club to find her.” Dora turned on her heel and stalked out.

The two teens were left alone and conversation resumed. However, since, in the following minutes, the most intelligent word spoken was ‘umm’, there seems little point in following it further.

----------

When Elladora arrived at the gates of the MAFIA Club, she was profoundly relieved to see that the ogre was not standing his watch at the gates today. It was only Cerberus, the three headed snarling hellhound from the gates of the Underworld, in his place.

She wandered closer, addressing the rightmost of the three heads.

“Morning Russ.”

“Morning, Sweetie,” replied the head, it’s voice at an almost feminine level of campness. “Careful of Cer today. He’s an old grumpy-boots.”

The leftmost head snapped forward, slavering jaws coming together with a sharp snap, less than a foot away from where she stood. It howled out its anguish at being out of range, the sinews in its neck straining to carry the rest of its body forward. The rest of its body, it seemed, was enjoying a gentle break and wasn’t in the least bit interested in having extra godmother for breakfast.

“I see what you mean,” said Elladora, blandly. She stepped a little further to the left, around the hellhound and towards the gates. “Has somebody been feeding him on corned beef again?”

“Good golly, no,” hooted the right head. “You have no idea what that does to his – I mean our – digestive system. Phooey! No, he just hasn’t got used to Burr, our new middle head, yet. Puppies always did get on his nerves, poor soul.”

Dora took a closer look at the middle head. It was currently bent backwards and trying its best to catch its own wagging tail in its teeth. It was also much smaller than the other two heads, and obviously new-grown. She wondered how the last one had been damaged, but it seemed untactful to ask.

“Well,” she said, awkwardly. “If you don’t mind…?”

She looked at the gate, meaningfully. The rightmost head wrinkled its nose in a most undemonic gesture. “Oh, you go right ahead, sweetie.”

As she walked past the animal, half of it tried to go for her, the other half tried to pull away and the third half yipped happily between them (making three halves, but magic and mathematics never did go together that well!).

The fairy-godmother scurried past as quickly as she was able, and made her way into the MAFIA lounge. She looked around for Fate, but there was no sign of her anywhere. Sitting around one of the central tables, however, were four Powers, orange eyes glowing dimly in the daylight. Although three of them appeared to be consulting reams of paperwork on their table, the other one looked over and her and gestured for her to come and join them.

She felt a lurching sensation in the pit of her stomach. It was rather akin to being dropped unexpectedly into something steaming and unpleasant. Wondering what she had done now, she slouched over to the table and stood before it.

“Sit down, Miss Chubb,” said one of the Powers. “Thank-you for attending.”

“A-attending?” she stammered, nervously.

“Indeed,” answered another. “Now, just a few questions. First – what would you say is the biggest reward of being a fairy-godmother?”

“Umm…” Elladora felt close to panic now. She tried to think of an answer that would not get her into any further trouble (given that she had no idea how much trouble she was already in!). “The… ahh… the cream-cakes?”

There was a deathly silence. Then one of the Powers spoke.

“Ah. A joke. We understand. Humour is a much-valued commodity in members of the Limbo team. It displays an aptitude for team-work and the ability to bend with whatever changes are needed in the future.”

The godmother willed herself not to run for the nearest exit. Being in the presence of four Powers was unnerving enough. When they started making sombre statements about the benefits of humour, there was definitely something going horribly wrong.

Before she had a chance to ask what all of this was about, though, the initial Power spoke again.

“Your second question, Miss Chubb. To what do you credit your recent success?”

“Err… I…” She wanted to ask what all this was about. There was obviously some official investigation going on, that she hadn’t yet heard about. However, the current wisdom was that you did not question the powers of the Powers – unless you wanted them demonstrated on you with malice aforethought!

“I… think it may have… umm… something to do with changing my attitude to the wishes,” she said, feeling her way through the question with all the care of a barefoot walking through a field of broken glass.

“Ah. The power of positive thinking?” asked one of the four.

Elladora mentally surrendered, thinking that, like the other godmothers, these Powers would believe exactly what they wanted to believe.

“Yes indeed,” she said, with only the faintest traces of sarcasm showing through. “I find that a cheery song and a motto always help when the situation seems hopeless.”

“Very commendable,” was the only reply she got. “Now, the third question. What, exactly, would winning the Employee of the Month competition mean to you?”

The light suddenly dawned. Somehow, this had something to do with that ridiculous competition! How she had walked into it without knowing was just another in the long line of ridiculous coincidences that her life had become. Now she was here, though, and she was going to have to see it through.

The first answer that came to mind, however, was not the sort of reply one gave to the Powers. It wasn’t the sort of answer that a lady should give to anyone, for that matter!

She thought quickly, saying the first words that came into her head. “Well, it means I’ll have to buy an extra tin of silver-polish, I suppose.”

There was a moment’s silence. Then:

“Thank-you, Miss Chubb. You have been very helpful.” The Powers nodded, signifying a blessed end to the questioning.

As Elladora rose to go, one of them added:

“And, if you will permit me to say so, it is nice to meet an employee who excels at her job, not for any expectation of reward, but simply for the satisfaction of a job well done.”

Dora sighed and bit back an acidic comment. If honesty really was the best policy, then the only explanation was that her policy had expired. Even when she told the truth, everyone seemed determined to twist and pull at it until it matched their expectations. It seemed the Bunny of Idealism was working overtime in Limbo at the moment!

She began to head towards the door – then abruptly changed her mind. It was lunchtime, but she didn’t want to face Chuzzle until she absolutely had to. In a few short hours it would be time to take him to his O.A. meeting (for all the good it was doing!). That would be soon enough to have her chat and tell him that he would have to find himself another employer.

In the meantime, she was going to get something to eat from the MAFIA bar. She had earned a respite!

Twenty minutes later, when she had finally deciphered the bar menu (deciding, against her better judgement, to try out this new-fangled ‘pasta’ nonsense) and got herself a drink, she was finally beginning to feel a little more relaxed. Despite all her qualms, the pasta did not taste at all unpleasant, although the sauce was hiding the flavour of the meat a little too thoroughly for her liking.

Then, in a single second, her sense of well-being was shattered. Glancing over in the direction of the exit, she saw her new ogre friend, looking around the lounge with a kind of ponderous tenacity. His face broke into a slow smile as he spotted her, and he began to lumber over, much to the distaste of the other bar patrons.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Dora as he approached, knocking over a nearby table with his bulk.

“I came to see you,” answered the ogre, happily oblivious to the dark looks he was getting from the rest of the clientele. From Dora too, for that matter. “Your liddle gnome told me where you was – and here you are.”

The fairy-godmother deliberately avoided looking at the patrons of the MAFIA club.

“I meant what do you want?” she asked, with mock patience. “I already told you I didn’t have the time to keep on attending your meetings. There’s really nothing more I…”

“I know, I know,” interrupted the ogre. “You can’t do nuffin’ else. I understand, lady. It’s just…”

He stopped, his lower lip wobbling dangerously again. Elladora’s heart sank as she felt a stirring of unwilling sympathy for the creature.

He continued. “Dat guest speaker you set up for us – soon’s she found out we wuz ogres, she went and cancelled. We din’t do nuffin’ - just sent her a fankyou note from me and the lads. Next we heard, she was saying she din’t want to do the gig any more. So, we wuz wondering if – just for today – you could…”

“Oh no,” interrupted Elladora. Hard as it was, she had to draw the line, otherwise she would be nursing the ogres through literacy training programs and social work and papier-mache modelling classes for the next four-hundred years!

“Look – sooner or later, you’re going to have to go this alone,” she said, as kindly as she could manage. “Some of the guest speakers might be scared off, that’s true. But there’ll be others, you’ll see – ones that will come and teach you things. Then the ones that were scared will hear how well you’re doing and in no time at all, you’ll be rid of those nasty stereotypes for good.”

She patted his arm because, by now, he was openly snuffling.

“For now, I suggest that you go out into the community. Find some good deeds to do somewhere. Challenge those stereotypes and beat them by sheer hard work.”

The ogre brightened. “Good deeds? Me and the lads? We can do dat. Dere’s loadsa stuff we can do. Bad people dat need a good thumping, sorta fing? Liddle old ladies to carry across the road?”

The alarm bells began to sound. Elladora shook her head. “Nothing like that. Not at first. The best thing you can do is find a project that you think you can be helpful with. Then ask someone in charge whether they want your help or not. If they do, then you’re in. If not, search a little further. Okay?”

“You’re so good to us, lady,” said the ogre, taking her napkin and blowing his nose on it with the volume of honk that put a thousand amplified nightingales to shame. “I’ll go tell the lads. Fanks.”

To her lasting gratitude, the ogre turned around and walked out of the lounge. She felt better immediately. By the looks she was getting from those at the surrounding tables, though, her good feelings were obviously not shared. Plus, her pasta was now cold and the sauce had turned to something that resembled lumpy blancmange more than lemon and pepper sauce.

It was probably time to go. She waited a full minute, just in case the ogre was still straggling somewhere in the corridors. Then, she walked out of the bar and towards the main exit.

She was halfway to the door when a sound from one of the side rooms caught her attention. She stopped and listened for it again. Yes, there it was. It sounded like… like someone crying quietly.

Common-sense told her to leave it. She already had problems enough, without taking on those of anonymous weepers as well. Common-sense, however, seemed to be suffering from a good bout of laryngitis. Its cries went subdued and almost unheard, as Dora’s too-large conscience prodded her with a thousand sharp sticks.

Muttering a curse, she opened the door and stepped inside. To her consternation, she saw one of her fellow godmothers, sitting on a large pile of freshly-laundry and letting the tears flow unchecked down her face.

Knowing she was going to regret it, Elladora cleared her throat and asked, “What’s the matter?”

The fairy-godmother sprang up, swiping brusquely at the tears with the back of her arm.

“Nothing! I was just…! Oh, Elladora, it’s you.”

With that, she broke into fresh sobs. Dora sighed and handed her a lace handkerchief.

“What have you done?” she asked, with the weariness of inevitability.

“Oh – it was just horrible!” The godmother wiped her eyes, breath hitching. “After our talk, everything seemed so clear. We had to open up lines of communication, get people reasoning out the long-term implications of their wishes, council them, mentor them, guide them along the right route for their and their family’s betterment. I even had the slide-projector ready, for in case it was a particularly difficult wish.”

Ignoring Elladora’s goggle-eyed look of disbelief, she continued.

“She just didn’t listen. Nothing I said made any difference.” Fresh tears streamed. “I talked and talked, and I listened and reasoned and pointed out the limited number of wishes she had and how she shouldn’t waste them on things she’d only regret later. I used basic counselling techniques, time-outs, reverse psychology, dream-analysis, personality profiling, nearly an hour of slide-shows and it didn’t change a thing! All she kept saying was that she never wanted to see her parents again – ever!”

“That’s easy,” said Dora, without thinking. “Blind her.”

She instantly regretted saying it. Not only was it beyond the level of mischief that she usually performed, but the shocked look on the face of her fellow godmother was added reproach. She immediately put a reassuring smile on her face and received a watery and uncertain smile in return.

“I was just making a point,” said Elladora, trying to recover a little of her reputation, “that actions can speak louder than words. You’ve tried talking to the little minx. Now you have to…”

“Oh! Oh, I see what you mean!” exclaimed the other godmother, rising from the laundry, wide-eyed. Her tear-streaked face began to light up. “I understand you completely. We have to stop talking and start showing. Oh, how could I have been such a fool? Thank-you Elladora! You always make things so clear!”

Leaving Dora standing with her mouth so wide open that she could have caught flies, the other godmother rushed out of the door, rushed back, picked up her wand, flashed a grateful smile at Elladora, and disappeared again.

Not long after, Dora followed her, at a rapid pace. One thing was certain – she wasn’t going to stay in this madhouse long enough for someone else to find her. She could try and sort Fate out later in the day. For now, it was time to go home and face the housegnome.

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Arriving back on her doorstep, she looked around at the shambles that had become her home. Despite a whole day having gone by, the front of her cottage looked worse than ever. The flowerbeds were irredeemably trampled; it seemed that this Spring’s harvest would most likely turn out to be cement beds and mud pits. There were growing mounds of rubble, matched by less and less brickwork and missing portions of roof. Throughout it all, the gnomes were singing a cheery working song and appeared to be in their element.

She couldn’t help herself. She grabbed one of the gnomes as he wandered past.

“When are you going to start putting my house back to normal?” she demanded, desperately.

He looked critically at the devastation before him.

“Mmm… well, Miss, I’d say… three or four days should do it. Then, we c’n start puttin’ it back tergether. No problems.”

Elladora’s eyebrows shot up past her hairline. “Three or four days? You were supposed to have it finished in three!”

“Ah, yes Miss, but yer see, that was before we got ter the drainage problem. Then we found some subsidence an’ – well – basic’ly the whole thing’s got ter be done right, yer see, otherwise yer’ll just end up with the same ole problems.”

She quivered with suppressed rage. “What problems? I never had any problems! I just want my house back to normal. How long will it take?”

“Oh, not more’n a week, Miss,” answered the gnome, cheerfully. “Def’nitely not more’n a week.”

The only thing that saved him from being pounded into the ground like an oversized tent peg was the sudden interruption of a nervous voice at this point.

“Er… M-Miss Chubb?”

Dora whirled to find Chuzzle, standing in the doorway and looking extremely anxious.

“I… I wonder i-if… I could ‘ave a word, yer godmotherness?”

For a moment, rage and concern struck a perfect balance within her. Then she submitted to necessity – as usual – and followed her housegnome inside the house, seething.

Chuzzle led her into the study, then turned to face her, looking terrified but determined.

“Y’see, it’s like this, Miss Chubb,” he began abruptly. “I know I ‘aven’t bin such a good housegnome fer you. I’ve really mucked things up an’…”

“I was meaning to have a word with you about that,” said Elladora, quickly. “I really think we can’t…”

Chuzzle held up a gnarled hand.

His voice shook. “Please, Miss. This is really ‘ard for me ter say. Jus’ let me finish an’ get it over with, quick-like. I – I – the fact is… well, the fact is… y’see.”

“Chuzzle, I…”

“No Miss. I ‘ave ter say it!” He shook his head violently. “I knew ‘ow much yer wanted me ter be yer housegnome – an’ really, it’s bin great – but I can’tworkforyouanymore.”

The last words rushed out so fast that she had to run them by in her head a couple of times before she truly understood. At last, comprehension dawned.

“What? You mean – you don’t want your job now?” A wary relief hovered, uncertain whether to pounce or not.

The gnome hung his head and nodded.

“I know yer’ll be disappointed, yer godmotherness – but y’see, I’ve bin offered a better job.”

“You have?” stuttered Dora, frankly shocked. “What? Where?”

He shuffled his overlarge feet.

“Yer remember yesterday, with that… that l-letter?” he said, flushing. “You told me ter go an’ get it back from the PlayGnome offices? Well, y’see – they wuz lookin’ fer staff – fer the orb-shoots. Actors an’ all… y’know…? They said I was the perfect look – just what they wuz after!”

He met her eyes at last, his gaze pleading for understanding. Elladora understood all right! She didn’t know whether to feel outrage or amusement. Chuzzle – working as a gnome pornstar? It was like giving an alcoholic a job in a brewery!

Still, if it made him happy, it was probably more than his current job ever would. It seemed that this was what he wanted to do; and, after all, he was a big boy now (she mentally shuddered at her choice of phrase and vowed never to use it again!). It had to be his decision, for better or for worse. If nothing else, it would rid her of the need for a very awkward dismissal speech.

She attempted to feign sadness. “Well, if you’re sure?”

“It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, Miss Chubb,” he said, earnestly. “Never get another chance like it. I’ve got ter take me shot at it while I can. So…”

Dora nodded, relieved beyond measure. “I’m sure you’ll be… good at it,” she managed. “When do you start?”

“Soon’s possible, Miss. I’m already packed. Just couldn’t find a way ter tell yer before. So – if there’s nothin’ else…?”

He was virtually hopping in his eagerness to go and start his new life. Elladora couldn’t help but smile.

“Go on,” she said, “and good luck!”

As he disappeared up the stairs, she reflected that, in a curious way, she was going to miss the little pervert. She consoled herself with the fact that now, at least, she could try and get a decent maintenance gnome from Fate. Then, perhaps, her house would have four walls and a roof by the time Winter came. It seemed unlikely, otherwise!

She went to make herself a consoling cup of tea. The inevitable doughnut got included on the tray and all three of them retired to the study, so that she could view her newest victim.

Picking up the orb, she began to weave her runes. The picture became clearer and she began to see what Colleen Shrille was up to now…

-----------

Colleen was in a state of shock. Her first reaction had been to get out of Dwayne McKismo’s ridiculous outfit. That had been a mistake, as it had given her a good view of what lay underneath it. She had held back the nausea – just! – and pulled the leopardprint trousers back on as fast as she could.

That, too, turned out to be a big mistake. Sudden, jerky movements were accompanied by surprisingly large amounts of pain from her new anatomy.

Once she had picked herself up from the curled-up heap on the floor, she managed the same manoeuvre a good deal more gently. Then she hobbled over to the mirror, to survey the damage.

A worried face peered back at her. She looked at the black silk shirt – a little baggy and long in the sleeve, and with a gold embroidered panther on the breast pocket. Rather feminine, now that she came to think about it. And the leopardskin trousers – they were highly uncomfortable, especially in some areas! Completely unpractical for wearing to go out in. Maybe she should…

She shuddered. There was no way she was going to take them off again. Besides, none of her usual stuff would fit any more.

Why had the fairy-godmother done this to her? It wasn’t what she had asked for at all! She had wanted the fame and the glory and the wonderful singing voice – not the clothes and… and the other stuff!

Well, it was easily solved. She would simply call the godmother back and ask for the wish the way she really wanted it. She opened her mouth to speak the command… then closed it again.

What if the rest was to come later? Did she really want to waste a wish on something that would happen anyway? Perhaps it just took time to get the record contract and the screaming fans and the backup-band to tour the country with. Maybe this was just the first stage of the transformation?

Well, she would put up with it for now. There would always be time to get it reversed later. A bit of discomfort was a small price to pay – when you were a rock star!

She began to walk uncomfortably out of the room and down the stairs. Her trousers creaked and refused to bend, in the most awkward of places. How did boys manage with all this extra tackle all the time? It was horribly uncomfortable!

The moment she got down to breakfast, the trouble began. As she shuffled awkwardly into the room, her mother’s face dropped.

“What on earth are you wearing?” she gasped. “You’re not going out in that, my girl!”

“No school today,” mumbled Colleen, flushing red. “Don’t have to go anywhere.”

She went to the fridge to get a carton of orange juice, aware of her parents’ eyes boring into her back.

“Are you all right, love?” asked her father, cautiously.

“Fine,” she said, cooling her face in the cool air of the fridge.

“You don’t look fine.” Her mother, as always, was much more blunt. “You can barely stand up straight. Look at you. It’s all that pizza you eat – I keep telling you, it messes up your digestion. Have you been regular?”

Colleen winced and rolled her eyes. This was one of her mother’s hobby-horses. She insisted on asking every member of the family about their bowel-movements, whether or not they wanted any part in such discussions.

“I’m fine, mum,” she snapped, waddling back to the breakfast table and sitting down gingerly. She grimaced as the wholly impractical pants squeaked and clung tightly to her legs, which were getting increasingly sweaty in their PVC prison. The traitor thought occurred to her that these trousers were only fit for posing around and showing off in. Not that her Dwayne would ever do such a thing. He was a god – and gods didn’t need to show off. They were perfection itself – leopardskin pants or no.

At the thought of Dwayne McKismo, something else had started happening around the trouser area. An uncomfortable tightness and a very visible bulge where no bulge had ever been before.

She uttered a little squeak of protest. This was just going too far!

Immediately, though, she had other worries to concern her. A triumphant voice rang out from behind her.

“I knew it. You’re not well. Don’t think I didn’t just hear that squeak of pain! I’m ringing the doctor, right now. We should be able to get you an appointment for later on today.”

“Mum! No!” shouted Colleen. She started to get up, then thought better of it and sat back down again. Meanwhile, her mother was completely ignoring her and dialling the phone.

Oh boy! She was in real trouble now!

Her thoughts whirled frantically. What was she going to do?

-----------

There was a knock on the door. Elladora looked up from her orb in irritation. Was she never to be allowed a moment’s peace? Who was it this time? The Gratitude Gremlins’ Social Club? The Insititute for the Promotion of Pixie Welfare? The League of Leprechauns?

At this point, none of those options would have surprised her.

It turned out, though, that it was something far worse. As she opened the door, she her friend the ogre again.

“Here, Lady,” he said, holding a piece of paper in his massive paw. “Someone just left dis for you.”

Dora frowned, puzzled. “What are you doing here?”

“Me and der lads, we’re doing our good deeds,” said the ogre, proudly. “When I first got here dis mornin’, I couldn’t help but notice dat your house was being messed up by dem dere gnomes. Well, at der time, I din’t fink nuffin’ of it. I just wanted to find you, Lady. Den you said find someone what needs help, sorta fing, and I fought of you, straight off. I gathered the lads together and we came straight here.”

Seeing the look on Elladora’s face, he hastened on with his explanation.

“Oh, don’t worry, Lady. I asked der gnome in charge whether dey wanted us to help or not. Dey said dat usually, dey wouldn’t let ogres anywhere near dem. Seein’ as how dis is a rush job, though, dey said we can do some lifting work for dem. Come and see.”

He was beaming so proudly that Dora didn’t have the heart to get into a fight with him. Feeling resigned, she went outside and was pleasantly surprised to see that mayhem had, so far, failed to break out.

Ogres were acting as pillars, holding up heavy pieces of scaffolding upon which several gnomes were working. They were lifting huge chunks of masonry, scooping large trenches and pits where needed and generally making themselves useful. She was slightly disturbed to see the thickest of the ogres being used as a coffee table while four gnomes took a rest-break… but he seemed happy enough to help. Elladora decided to leave them to it. They were probably only having a workmens’ joke, at the expense of the new boy – and if the new boy ever cottoned on to what they’d done, the joke would be turned soon enough to please everyone!

Of course, it now meant that she not only had fifteen ogling gnomes circling her bedroom at night, but five overly-helpful ogres too! She gave a sour smile as she reflected that, if this kept up, she might as well just sell tickets and get it over with!

“Yes, all right,” she said, a little petulantly. “Just remember to follow the chief gnome’s instructions – and no holding your meetings inside my cottage!”

Clutching the piece of paper, she hurried into the relative sanctuary of her study and took a closer look. The contents were surprising, to say the least.

Dear Elladora,

Could you please come to the Palace of Threads at your earliest convenience.

Many Thanks!
Fate

Elladora stared. A letter from Fate – and no theatrics? Something was wrong.

Anxiety gnawing at her stomach, she paced back and forth in the study. Was this what she had been waiting for all along – a dismissal? Or had she finally gone too far, somehow, and incurred the vengeance of the Powers?

In a sudden fit of decisiveness, she crumpled the paper and threw it at the fireplace. Whatever it was, there was no point in hanging around here, dreading it. Best to go and face the music – even if it was a twelve-piece orchestra with backing vocals by Alexander Rose!

With a weary swoosh of her wand, she disappeared for the Palace of Threads…

-----------

When she arrived, everything seemed normal. The door was closed in a particularly menacing way. The bell-rope gave its most innocent look. The birds were singing, the sky was blue.

Elladora just knew it was all going to go horribly wrong.

She stepped up to the front door and pulled the rope, with weary fatalism.

The door opened immediately. Elladora cringed, then tentatively opened one eye again, only to see another godmother standing on the inside of the door. A further glance revealed her to be the one that Dora had spoken to earlier.

Before Elladora could figure the puzzle out, her colleague beamed and embraced her in a stranglehold that pretended to be a hug.

“Thank-you Dora!” she enthused. “Your advice worked. You were absolutely right – action was the way to make her see sense! You always know exactly what to do. It’s no wonder you’re such a success!”

“Urk!” was all that Elladora managed, as her neck was squeezed in a particularly tight clench. After another bone-grinding second, she was released and held at arm’s length.

“It was well deserved,” said the fairy-godmother proudly, as she watched Dora try to catch her breath. “And… may I just say – from all the other godmothers – well done and congratulations!”

“Congratulations?” croaked Elladora, rubbing at her neck. “For what?”

The other godmother giggled. “Oh, you are a tease! Go on in, she’s waiting for you!”

Dora watched, thoroughly disconcerted, as her colleague waved a wand and disappeared. Again, she considered simply leaving now and returning to her cottage. She decided against it for two reasons. One – her cottage was hardly a place of peace and quiet contemplation any more, surrounded as it was by gnomes and ogres. And two – Fate would find her eventually.

Sighing deeply, she stepped into the Palace of Threads. Unusually enough, there were no orchestras, no wind machines, no screeching parrots or clockwork vampires springing out of fake coffins. The place had the calm, still air of a mortuary.

By the time she got to Fate’s drawing-room, the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. Something huge was going on, and she didn’t know what. She pushed the door open cautiously, and didn’t know whether or not to be relieved when she saw Fate standing by the stained-glass window.

“Ah, Miss Chubb,” intoned the green-cloaked entity. “So good of you to come. Take a seat.”

Nervously, the fairy-godmother ensconced herself in one of the leather-studded chairs.

“What’s going on?”

“I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you,” said Fate, seating herself and turning gravely to Elladora.

Suddenly, Dora didn’t want to hear it. She cast around wildly for another subject – any subject at all!

“Where’s your manservant?” she asked, abruptly.

“Mr. Rose?” Fate smiled. “He and his… protégé… are taking a further tour of Limbo. I rather suspect that the tour will take advantage of all those secluded and private spots that Miss Crumpet has not, hitherto, seen. You seem to have had rather an effect on them, Miss Chubb. You seem to have had rather an effect on a lot of people recently.”

It seemed the moment had come. Elladora was, however, determined to ride the stubborn stupidity ticket as far as it would take her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stated, flatly.

“Well, if I must spell it out for you, I suppose I must,” said Fate. She was still smiling. It was, frankly, worrying Elladora.

“Your positive effect on the Ogres Association has been noted, and approved of. Your efforts have shown them a way to perhaps break out of their ecological rut and become something new and useful to the Powers. Moreover, they seem happy – and happy workers are productive workers.”

She continued. “You have become a major force for recruitment in Limbo. Who could fail to observe that, in under two weeks, you have encouraged two formerly maladjusted teenagers to alter their thinking enough to apply to Limbo for a job? Remarkable work, Miss Chubb.”

“But I didn’t…” began Dora. She got no further.

“The gnomes have no Clubs or Associations to belong to. They are, by nature, not the most sociable of creatures. However, you appear to be a favourite among them. So much so that they flock to be near you, at their own expense. Influence like that is hard to achieve, yet you seem to manage it effortlessly.”

“It’s not me they like – it’s that damned orb!” protested Elladora. Fate continued as if she had not spoken.

“Then there is the matter of the other godmothers. They have come to see you as a leader. Your very words are weighted with purpose. You have only to speak and they will act. Take earlier for example. You told your colleague to act and she did. She took her wisher out of the family situation that was distressing her so much. She brought her here, to Limbo. Held hostage, forced to watch her family’s distress in the godmother’s orb, the child eventually came to understand the seriousness of the wish, and requested to go home and think of a less irresponsible demand for next time.”

“More likely the poor kid knew she was never getting out of Limbo until she gave in,” said Elladora, sourly. She wasn’t sure where this was heading, but she was sure she was not going to like it when she got there.

“Nevertheless,” said Fate. “You have demonstrated the capacity for management that I always knew you were capable of – and in doing so, you have earned your reward. If you would care to read over the document on the coffee table?”

For the first time, Dora became aware of a large parchment beside the teapot. Frowning, she picked it up and began to read.

Conditions for Promotion to the Position of Fate

The candidate must be a current employee of Fate.

The candidate must have earned at least four commendations for outstanding service.

The candidate must have shown ability to manage at least four disparate groups/cultures/subsets of the Limbo community.

The candidate must have won at least two prestigious awards within the last year of service.

The former Fate must be willing to vacate the post and the candidate must be willing to accept the new role (which is implicit in the acceptance of this document).

Welcome to your new job, Fate.

Elladora stared.

“I don’t understand,” she said at last. “You want to give up being Fate?”

“When I hired you, one hundred years ago,” said Fate, with an arch of her eyebrow, “that was exactly what I had in mind. I knew you had it within you to take my place. For some reason, though, you never fulfilled your potential and… as should be obvious to you by now… the other godmothers were simply not up to stepping up and taking over my role.”

“Something had to be done,” she continued. “When you came to me and asked to be relieved of your job, I knew it was time to act. I pushed you and challenged you and treated you with increasing levels of unfairness. As a result, you rose to your task with great alacrity. You had an enemy to focus your efforts upon. And I – I had my work cut out for me.”

“What do you mean?” asked Elladora, completely confused by now.

“Really, Miss Chubb,” scolded Fate, “do you think the events of the last few weeks were all a happy coincidence? Despite your best efforts to spoil them, your wishes kept turning out well. A real twist of Fate, you might say.”

“You mean you…” Dora stared at her. “You’ve been fixing all my wishes? All those commendations… I didn’t earn them. I was trying to lose my job. This is all a set-up!”

“I admit nothing, either way,” answered Fate. “And it really is quite irrelevant. You have already accepted the position, by picking up the parchment. You are Fate – and Fate you will remain, until you can find a worthy replacement.”

“But – I don’t know anything about being Fate!” protested Dora.

Fate stood up. “You will learn. You have your manservant to help you – and you already have a power-base – of your own making, I may add. Your many friends will be ready to help you through these difficult times. I’m afraid I will not be here to advise you. A warm, sandy beach awaits me. I have earned my retirement and I fully intend to enjoy it.”

“I don’t have four commendations!” Dora was getting desperate by now.

“Your fourth one came today.” Fate’s lips quirked. “Miss Crumpet signed her contract to work in Limbo. Face it, Miss Chubb. You have earned your post.”

She began to walk towards the door.

“So this is what the godmother meant by ‘congratulations’,” muttered Elladora, almost to herself.

Fate, however, heard. She turned at the door.

“I believe not,” she said, pleasantly. “She was probably just congratulating you for having won the Employee of the Month competition. I very much doubt that she knows you are her future boss. Yet.”

She opened the door and disappeared through it. A moment later, her head popped back around.

“Oh, and Elladora?” she added. “I have not made any special arrangements for the latest wish that you granted. With that one, I’m afraid you are on your own.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving the former fairy-godmother to her stunned thoughts.

EPILOGUE:

Night was falling fast. Elladora could still barely believe what had happened.

Right from the start, she had been set up. She had never stood a chance. Who could fight Fate, after all?

She had wandered over the entirety of the Palace of Threads. She had looked at her new toys, read the job description and flicked through the paperwork on Fate’s desk. There was a lot more of it than there had ever been as Fairy-Godmother.

She had tried out Fate’s bed. She had checked out the large, sunken bath, with its frothy water that never went cold. She had made sure that the kitchen was fully stocked for her needs, finding that her old employer had thoughtfully ordered in a whole stack of cream-cakes for the occasion. She had rearranged the furniture and decided what could stay and what had to go.

Now… there seemed nothing else to do. She looked out of the stained glass window and shuffled her feet, feeling the old boredom settling down on her again, like a lead weight.

Perhaps a trip to the cellars would help. That wind machine had to be around here somewhere…

[Ingrothechundyer]

Very nicely done Shady :D

I'm looking forward to the sequel.

[Solomon Birch]

:-o

It's finished! What a wonderful tale. I really am going to miss reading about Ms. Chubb's adventures, but the sequel should help with that! I can't wait!

A hilarious chapter. Some bits had me rolling around on the floor. Laughing, not dying. :biggrin:

Hats off to you Shady, 'twas a great story, which should be published.

Now, time for the sequel!

*holds breath* :shock:

[LordoftheNight]

Well, now that was unexpected.

I particulary liked the line about magic and maths working together.

[Key]

Bravo, Shady!

:clap: :clap: :clap:

[OmegaTerra]

*Does the Orc Happy Dance for the Stoat*
:cheers: :cheers: :cheers: :rock:

[Smee]

:P Excellent ending Ms Stoat ;)

Didn't see it coming at all - exactly as you planned no doubt :)

So many funny moments, but I did crack a smile at the bunny of idealism :lol:

I can't wait for the sequel, but I will somehow - you've earnt a break.

Happy Writing :)

[Rachel]

Unexpected twist at the end! I always thought Fate(old one) to be a mean lady, maybe she isn't... :?

Anyway all I am worried about is her latest wish, I hope you put it in the sequel. I want to see her get through that one! :lol:

[Chinaren]

Excellent Shady! Excellent indeed. I sort of figured out that might be the ending, but it was still damn well written!

Congratulations old Stoat. A masterful piece.

Now, I will settle down and start my Biding ready for 'Twists of Fate', or whatever you call the sequel!

:clap: :cheers: :rock: :tu: :tu2: :anggrin: :goodpost:

[Muaddib]

All hail the Emperor...Empress.

In the words of Mr.Burns,"Exxcccccccceeeeeellllent."

Really can't wait for the sequel.

[Kalanna Rai]

Oh yes there must be a sequel...after all you just can leave the poor girl...er boy...er manwoman running around in those print pants now can you :shock: ....

[LordoftheNight]

I think the word you're looking for there is hermaphrodite Rai.

[ethereal_fauna]

Wonderful! :clap: She didn't want to be a godmother anymore- but she's still stuck in Limbo. :-o

Doesn't it feel great to complete a storygame? Welcome to the esteemed group with a SG in the Hall of Legends. :cheers:

[Chinaren]

Indeed, and don't forget to collect your 1,000Fatbacks from the treasury!

[Idea master]

Now there simply MUST be a sequel. After all, you've just started getting the fairy godmothers riled up. I can forsee a great future in this, possibly with Elladora earning another promotion...but to what?
And I like the idea of Ella becoming just as theatric as the old Fate. After all, who knows how long it will be before she manages to get out of this job?
You ought to let us supply your wishers for the next one though. I can think of several right away that ought to prove interesting...
Muwahahahaha.

[Ovrlndnsea]

I knew it! I just knew it! I knew that it would end this way. Great minds think alike.
Idea master wrote: Now there simply MUST be a sequel.
Seconded.

[LordoftheNight]

And Thirded - if that's possible.

[Chinaren]

I am sure Stoat is up to the task, but we should wait a while for her to recharge her batteries.

The trouble with having a great SG like this one is, it is hard to keep the quality as high with a new idea.

Like I said though, I am sure Stoat will manage it. Hint. :lol:

*Bides*

[dragon_fire372]

Bravo!

Magnifico!

Stupendo!

Alright, that's enough foreign language for me. Truly excellent, Stoat. :D

[The White Blacksmith]

I'm going along with the sequel Idea.

:tu2: You realize that Your next commendation could be a bite on the neck by me, making you the first stoat in the E.V.C ( Exellent Vampire's club) of which I'm President. :mad: :mad:

Only thing is... we kinda eat stoats as the Registration dinner :? .

[Mother Goose]

Hear hear! Add me to list of readers who want more!

Congratulations Stoaty - a finished storygame is no small feat, and this one in particular has been deservedly popular. Take as much time to recharge as you need, but we must have a sequel!

[thebean203]

dragon_fire372 wrote:

Alright, that's enough foreign language for me. Truly excellent, Stoat. :D
j'adore les Stoats' game le story...me likey foreign languages =]

4thing the request for SEQUEL! SEQUEL! SEQUEL!

[The White Blacksmith]

actually its:

J'adore le game de story de la Shady Stoat! :shock:

[Shady Stoat]

Thanks guys. It's great to have a storygame finished - and it's even nicer to have it appreciated to this extent :biggrin:

I'll definitely get onto the sequel in the not-too-distant future. Just as soon as I've worked out the minutiae - and had a decent break from having to write 8-10,000 words in 3-day blocks ;)

In the meantime - woo! I got to the end! Hall of Fame, here I come :cool:

[thebean203]

The White Blacksmith wrote: actually its:

J'adore le game de storyde la Shady Stoat! :shock:

well, what can i say
my french could use some polishing :)
i believe some very wise person once said " It's the thought that counts"
however, monsieur blaksmith, i appreciate the correction :D
and to the writer :lol: the hall of fame is in for a surprise!

[Smee]

Welcome to the Hall of Legends :D

Feel free to enjoy part of your recuperation basking in the adoration of your fans for a while yet though. :D

...so is the sequel up yet? ;)

[Shady Stoat]

*basks* :D

[Ovrlndnsea]

Well, is the sequel up yet?

[Shady Stoat]

*grins* Not yet. I'm taking a few weeks off :D

[Chinaren]

How about now? :shock:

[Shady Stoat]

*basks - but now with a distinct pout!* ;)

[Smee]

So...can I join the Elladora Guild yet?

[Chinaren]

Smee wrote: So...can I join the Elladora Guild yet?

?

[Shady Stoat]

Smee wrote: So...can I join the Elladora Guild yet?

I have to say it - Be careful what you wish for! :P

[Smee]

chinaren wrote: How about now? :shock:

Quote: So...can I join the Elladora Guild yet?


It reminded me on Nalloon asking about the Fantasy Guild, tis all :D

[Chinaren]

hehe. That's what I was doing. ;) I appear to be rather transparent today.

[LordoftheNight]

Umm, you realise this hasn't been locked yet?

[Ingrothechundyer]

I suspect that's delibrate.

[Ovrlndnsea]

I suppose that the Stoat wants more Fables from our replies.

[Chinaren]

Ovrlndnsea wrote: I suppose that the Stoat wants more Fables from our replies.

I doubt our Stoat would do that.

It's nice to leave a SG open for a while, so we can all beg for a sequel, which I can't help noticing, hasn't started yet. ;)