“Here ya go, Gwowly!” Snap announced cheerfully as she bounded into the backyard. “I brought you home something tasty! A tasty morsel! Morsel von Tasty! For you to eat! Because all you do is eat, sleep, and poop! Poop the size of a Mack truck! Do they still make Mack trucks? So allow me to ease at least one of your pastimes!” She slammed down a huge rack of beef, clapping her four paws together in satisfaction.

  The monster of a bear stared at her with its eerie empty sockets, hollow black pools from which no light emerged, and promptly unfurled its massive tongue, slobbering all over her, soaking her AC/DC shirt so it clung to her chest. “Eww! I always wanted to enter a wet t-shirt contest, but this is ridiculous!”

  The screen door slammed as someone stepped out of the ivy-covered three-story townhouse, lawn an absolute disaster in dire need of upkeep, its roof in dire need of a thorough decluttering of its vast array of pipes, antenna and oversized novelty prop satellite dishes. Snap turned to greet the newcomer, only for her eyes to bug out, her voice box to shrivel up, and her jaw to come unhinged, clanging into the patio at the sight of the tall, voluptuous unicorn-girl in a skimpy pink bikini trotting out daintily, her adorable golden hooves clinking musically.

  “Ack, g'mornin', Snappy, me lassie! Lassie me Snappy. Or g'afternoon as it is,” the peppermint-maned – and peppermint-scented – unicorn-babe greeted. White as snow, her huge mane and equally luxurious tail bounced and waved with delightful motions, every step she took a work of art to behold. She giggled nervously, her cheeks blushing as bright as the pink stripes in her hair. “I, er, slept in t'day. Hope ya dunna be mindin'. I sure be a-hopin' y'r mornin' was as borin' an' uneventful as mine!” She stared at Snappy wheezing, her jaw on the ground, her tongue rolled out across the patio, copious amounts of drool puddling around her reptilian feet. “Er, Snappy? Ya okay, lassie? Hullo, earth ta Snappy now!”

  “Yoooooooou're GOOOORGEOUS!” Snap squealed, blubbering like a hooligan in heat. “Woo-hoo, woo-hoo, woo-hoo! Boingy boingy boingy! Wakicha wakicha wakicha! What's your name? Hoosier daddy? Is he rich like me? Has he taken any time to show you what you need?”

  The unicorn-babe gaped at her in disbelief. “Snappy! It's me! Air! What the dickens – Tom Dickens of Ireland not that oafish Charlie from England – has gotten into ye?”

  “As in air BAGS?” Snap squealed, burying her face in the unicorn-girl's chest, blubbering away, causing her to squeal herself.

  “Ack! Ya honestly dunna remember me? Ya saved me! An' me sister! Do I need ta rehash the entirety of the first novel's plot f'r ya?”

  “I dunno,” Snap muttered, shrugging indifferently. “I just sorta go with the flow, yanno? March to the beat of my own drummer.”

  “Aye, that much I'm aware of.”

  “SNAP!” Acinony shrieked, peering out the second story window. “Stop acting like a frickin' pervert for once in your miserable life and get in here, your friends are here, they wanna talk to you!” She slammed the window shut, shattering the pane on impact. “Oh for the love of-!”

  “Friends? FRIENDS?” Snap echoed, distant and perplexed. “I have friends? I don't have friends! I have acquaintances. I have associates. I have criminal accomplices. But friends? Mother must be mistaken, as usual.”

  “Snappy, ya daft bugger! Ya got lots o' friends! I'm y'r friend!”

  “Bouncy bouncy bouncy-”

  “WILL YA STOP PLAYIN' ME BOOBIES LIKE THE DAMN BONGOS!”

  Snap froze up so fast icicles formed on her nose and ear-fins, the proverbial deer in the motherlovin' headlights. “Eek. I've struck a nerve.”

  Snap swaggered off, not a bloody care in the universe, leaving the peppermint-scented unicorn to shake her head in disbelief. “I dunna know, she makes me all scratchy on the inside!” she said to Gwowly. She grimaced. “Ya know I'm havin' a right foul pisser when I'm talkin' ta you.” She hesitated. “Ya dunna talk back now, do ya?” Gwowly simply belched, overwhelming her with the funk of dead meat percolating in his stomach acid.

  Snap skipped into the kitchen, a grand chamber that elevated the building's property values to the stratosphere, all for those values to come crashing back to earth once compared to the rest of the affair. “Hello, so-called 'friends'!” she announced, tail knocking over the coat tree as she entered the dusty, cobweb-festooned front hall. “My friends who love me, who cherish me, who would DIE for me at the drop of a hat! Friends, for all the world to see! What now can YOU do for ME?”

  “There she is!” Samson Knight Luggage bellowed, grabbing the collar of his red polo and tearing his shirt clean off, showing off his well-oiled muscles. “KILL HER!”

  Snap made a weird gurgle, something between a frog croaking and a cricket chirping, before shrieking at a decibel volume meant to shatter glass. “AH!”

  With one accord, Samson, Praleene, Kendra and Jessica all rushed her, the four-armed girl barely able to ward them off, overwhelmed by their sudden, viscous assault. “Hold up! HOLD! UP!” Hippie Matchstick shoved herself between the hate-fueled mob and the cowering Snap, curled up in a ball, shielding her head with her scaly paws. Hippie shoved them off and took a deep breath. “Now y'all just CHILL. We said we wouldn't do this.”

  “YOU said we wouldn't do this!” Kendra snarled. “We all agreed she's gotta DIE!” They all screamed and attacked, Hippie shoving them back again.

  “Look at my legs!” Jessica sobbed, her legs huge, the muscles bulging, veins throbbing, all semblance to her pretty feminine legs gone, replaced by these chiseled granite monstrosities. “My beautiful legs! YOU LEFT ME TO DIE AS THEIR BATTERY PACK!”

  “You left me hanging by my po-pos in the stinky darkness!” Samson sobbed.

  “Me and Hippie were almost mauled by a pack of feral wolfmen!” Kendra shrieked.

  “I can't remember why I'm mad,” Praleene admitted. “Or even if I ever was. Probably not. But I didn't want to be left out.”

  “Okay, I admit it,” Snap said slowly, calmly, even rationally. She rose up to her full height, flapping her little wings, brushing a lock of pink hair from her blue eyes. “From a certain point of view – certainly not MY point of view, you miserable chumps – mistakes, for lack of a better word...have been made.”

  Slight pause as this confession was processed. “MISTAKES?”

  “And!” Snap continued, holding her four hands up defensively. “May I PLEASE continue unabated? And. I know you all have issues with me.”

  “Putting it mildly!” Kendra yelled.

  “Like Kendra here for example,” Snap said. “So quick to open her big mouth at the drop of a hat.”

  “HEY!”

  “You have several issues of National Geographic and Wired left with me.”

  Kendra's eyebrows looked like a couple of caterpillars engaging in gymnasial sport. “Say what?”

  “And Jessica, all those issues of 'Joggers Weekly' you lent me!”

  Jessica's eyelid twitched. “Oh God, she's on a tangent. A weird one.”

  “And Hippolyta Freya Matchstick! I have several issues of 'Cheech & Chong's Cannabis in Review' stashed under my bed.”

  Hippie chuckled. “Ha. 'Stashed'. 'Under a bed'. I see what you did there.”

  “And last but certainly not least, except in our hearts,” Snap cooed, tickling the russet squirrel-girl behind her ears, “Praleene Jane Stashmoore! I have several copies of your 'Peanuts Monthly', including that one all-important issue featuring an interview with Good Ol' Charlie Brown!”

  “YOU have that one?” Praleene burst out, flapping her arms indignantly. “Good grief, you blockhead, I was going nuts thinking I lost it forever! He was gonna dish dirt on his illicit affair with Lucy van Pelt after Linus ran off with the Little Red Hair Girl!”

  “What about me?” Samson whimpered. “What about my issues?”

  “Oh baby, you have abso-frickin'-lutely ZERO issues with me,” she cooed, beaming from ear-fin to ear-fin. Her eyes widened and she smiled, flashing her nasty sharp fangs. “Ain't that right, BIG BOY?”

  He winced. “Yes, ma'am!”

  “So you can have ALL your issues back,” Snap declared boldly, taking a sweeping bow, long hair brushing the dirty floor. “Am I not magnanimous in my generosity?”

  There was a brief pause as everyone glowered at her, sullen, disgusted, disenfranchised – until. “KILL HER!” Kendra screamed, her hair puffing up twice its already enormous size. Snap snapped out of her reverie, shrieked, and high-tailed it down the hall, everyone chasing after.

  The basement door slammed open, and out strode a huge man, big, brawny and unbearably good-looking, his blonde hair trimmed short, coming into a sharp widow's peak that neatly cleft his brow down the middle. He wore a white lab coat stained with the blood of innocents, and a white safari outfit with matching boots. “Stay your hands, children!” he commanded, the kids tumbling into each other in a large pile of pain. “Have you all taken leave of your senses?”

  “Holy guacamole with a side of Jim Beam!” Samson yelped, extricating himself from the groaning girls. “It's Dr. Jefferson Kenneth Lawful, the incredible, the sensational, the incorrigible, the indefatigable, the irascible, the unapproachable-”

  With one accord, which admittedly was rare, the girls ganged up on him, screaming in his ears. “OH WILL YOU GET ON WITH IT!”

  “Ahem, sorry. The Man of Gold!” He made some weird white noise sound, imitating a stadium full of cheering fans.

  “I deny none of those adjectives,” Doc Lawful said, flashing a smile that could generate enough electricity to power a time machine. “In fact, I'll toss in a few more of my own. Agitated, flummoxed and discombobulated!”

  “Those are some good adjectives,” Samson whispered in awe.

  “Why are you trying to kill my granddaughter?” Doc demanded, the girls shuffling nervously, looking at the floor. “I understand she has the brains of an artichoke and the empathy of a kiln-born brick, and those can be considered her good qualities, but surely by now, after all she's done, if you didn't kill her before, then what's the point NOW? Anyway, what's all the hubbub about?”

  “Doc, what you know about unicorn-babes?” Snap asked. “There's one looking out my backdoor!”

  “Are there tambourines and elephants playing in the band?” Hippie asked, pulling out a banjo.

  “Take a ride on the flying spoon!” Snap declared, as she did a two-step, a quick-step and a bossa nova. “Doot doot doo!”

  “You are all WEIRDOS,” Doc thundered, marching back to his basement sanctuary. “And I denounce you all in the name of goodness and justice!”

  “Doc!” Kendra shouted. “Pareidolia City came under attack! We were attacked by pirates!”

  “The good kind or the bad kind?”

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  “The bad kind! Real bad! They demolished half the financial district and made off with a valuable item! Have you ever heard of the Seven Seize?”

  “I had a seven sneeze once,” Samson mused.

  “Now you stop butting in with clear, concise forwarding of the plot!” Snap snarled. “This is supposed to be a load of flippin' gibberish! Confound it!” She stomped around, flapping her arms and muttering under her breath.

  “What is all this racket?” Acinony marched down the stairs, wearing a red bikini, her belly out and proud, but she herself looked rather flushed and miserable. Pretty neat trick considering she was covered in golden spotted fur. “Could you pipe down? I don't feel too good, all the shenanigans this morning, I feel really, really weird.”

  “Do you need help, Mrs. Z?” Kendra asked worriedly. “It isn't complications with the pregnancy, is it?”

  “HEY!” Snap barked, causing the big-haired girl to jump back, colliding with Hippie. “Don't you go showing concern for my mother! She'll think you're the better daughter! And then where will that leave me, huh? Out on the curb, with yesterday's trash! That's where! I will not be usurped!”

  “Cram it, Snap,” Acinony said bluntly. “I'm not in the mood for your nonsense. Where's your father? Where's your sister?” She looked at Doc Lawful smiling at her and cringed. “Oh Lord.”

  “I think they're out banging on your car,” Hippie answered. She winced. “Whoa, now THERE'S a turn of phrase that if taken out of context could result in serious repercussions.”

  “And don't worry, Mom!” Snap said. “If there's any problems with the twins, Jessica here will race you to the hospital lickity-split!”

  “Screw that!” Jessica screamed. “I'm never running again! Look at my legs! They're horrific! Monstrosities! And hurt like hell! Mom and Dad's pizza joint is gonna go under, all thanks to you!”

  Snap nodded. “It's nice to see SOMEONE show some gratitude for all my hard work around here!”

  “Au contraire,” Doc intoned smoothly. “I more than likely have some specially formulated atrophic steroids designed to shrivel muscles rather than build them.”

  “Why would you create a steroid that shrivels muscles rather than build them?” Acinony asked, already regretting that she had.

  “Because I'm 187 years old,” he replied snarkily. “And I'm running out of things to do! Would you rather I destroy the world and rebuild it in my own cold, logical image? I think not!”

  Jessica eyed him skeptically. “Dad always told me if you ever offered me anything, especially medical stuff, to run away screaming. As running is now part of my problem, I'm kinda desperate. Sure, whatever, pump me full of your shrivel juice.”

  The front door banged open and in strolled two people. Not Zeke and Uncia, but a tall man, taller than Doc even, and a short unicorn-girl, black, with a long, straight mane of red-and-purple stripes, matching tail shimmying right behind her. The man was huge, muscles on top of muscles, and then a few more muscles added in for good measure, all topped by a mop of curly red hair hiding his eyes, a huge bulbous nose jutting out amidst a sea of freckles. “”We return with sacred apples gathered from the gardens of the Hesperides,” he announced without a hint of irony.

  “Katherine or Audrey?” Jessica asked.

  “Or we traveled to Whole Foods and got 'em at the produce table,” the little red unicorn-babe quipped, rolling her eyes, or eye. One was a luminous blood red, matching the color of her horn and hooves, but the other a nasty clouded gray, the result of some unnamed injury from her past. As she moved, the faint scent of cinnamon followed after, clinging to her black fur tenaciously, mouthwatering and divine.

  “You sap the fun out of everything, Crowley,” he muttered in his slow lackadaisical drawl.

  “Gingers present,” Hippie said, extending her right fist, and the two redheads bumped in fraternal bonding. Crowley, the black unicorn-babe, sniffed, eyeing them jealously. “How's it goin', Doofus my Moofus?”

  “Whazzup my ginga'?” he replied. He wandered into the dining room, a large but sparsely furnished area, basically one long table, an empty china cabinet, and some chairs shuffled around haphazardly. He slammed a huge bushel basket laden with apples on the table, the fruits tumbling out, Snap helping herself to whatever escaped, devouring them core, seeds, stem and all, each one disappearing in a single bite. “Our resident equines wanted apples, so I got apples.” He picked up a bright red one. “Here we have your standard red delicious, the iconic 'teacher's apple', usually the one depicted in Medieval artwork of the Fall in Eden. Then there's the popular honeycrisp, very sweet. The Granny Smith, best for pies, wouldn't recommend on its own.”

  “You don't say,” Snap choked out, her face looking like it imploded in on itself.

  “The opposite, from the shores of Osaka, the delightful Fuji,” Doofus continued, “and finally, the mysterious Pink Lady. But alas, there was no Jeff to go with Pink Lady! Where was Jeff, Crowley? WHERE WAS JEFF!” He fell to his hands and knees, pounding the floor. “Jeff! Jeff, I won't forget you! JEFFFF!”

  “Who the H is 'Jeff'?” Hippie asked.

  “I have no idea,” Snap said. “And I don't wanna know.”

  “Ack, y'r back!” In bounced Air, every part of her jiggly except her horn and hooves, blue eyes sparkling like sapphires at the haul Doofus and Crowley had brought back. “Apples aplenty! Now we can make applesauce! An' apple pies!” She smiled, her voice trailing off. “I canna think of anythin' else appley.”

  “Apple tarts ya bloody peppermint tart,” Crowley quipped.

  “Ack, aye, aye, apple tarts! Oh, an' apple juice. An' apple fries. Okay, now I'm onna roll, better get crackin'!”

  “Can I help?” Acinony asked hopefully.

  “Oh! I'm sorry, Mrs. Zasperate, but, uh, this is just a l'il something us sisters have been wantin' to do since we got back together.” Crowley's horn glowed red, picking the basket up and all the apples in it, hovering off the table, and the unicorns trotted back to the magnificent kitchen.

  Acinony stood there, alone, crestfallen, her shoulders slumped in defeat. “But...that's my kitchen. I know where everything's at. I know where the brown sugar is, where the maple syrup is. I know where the onions are! Rejected. I am utterly broken.”

  “Wow,” Hippie murmured. “She didn't show this much remorse over Pareidolia City getting blown to smithereens.”

  “I love that word!” Praleene cooed. “Smithereens! SMITEREENS! I could say it all day.”

  “Yeah? Well don't.”

  “Come come, Acinony,” Doc laughed, grappling her in an inescapable headlock, the loving fatherly application of knuckles to scalp in the time-honored 'noogie'. “There's more important things in life! Like adventure. And SCIENCE! Shall we go exploring?”

  “NO!” she shrieked, prying herself free and stampeding up the stairs, the sound of a door slamming shut echoing throughout the house, patches of ceiling plasters landing hard on Samson's head.

  “Ouch!” He fumed, steam blasting from his bovine nostrils. “That reminds me! We're here to kill Snap! KILL SNAP!”

  “Oh knock it off, Splotches, that ship sailed the moment Doc walked in,” Snap groused, picking him up over her shoulder and tossing him out the front room window. “DEFENESTRATION!”

  “What the dickens?” Zeke and Uncia came in out of the garage. “First your mother, now you. What is it with the Zasperate girls and breaking windows today?” He gave his younger daughter a wary glance. “Don't you pick up the habit.”

  “No promises,” the silver-furred kitten replied. She sniffed the air. “Mmm, cinnamon apples? What gives?”

  “Come on, let's go get cleaned up,” Zeke said. “We can chow down in a minute.”

  “You guys look fine to me,” Praleene said.

  Uncia scowled. “We're plastered with hydrogen atoms. The H.P. Lovecraft sprung a leak, sprayed us down with hydrogen. Can't you tell? Deadly toxic hydrogen. We're soaking in it. Are you blind or something? Jeez. Get the nuts out of your brain next time, squirrel-girl!”

  Praleene's whiskers twitched. “Did I miss something?”

  “Nah,” Snap assured her, tousling her hair. “Just general insanity and inanity and goings on. Zasperate life, come join us!”

  “Aww crap,” Zeke said from upstairs. He pounded on his bedroom door. “Acinony, are you crying? Honey, open the door and let me in!”

  “Sister Suzy! Brother John! Martin Luther! Phil and Don!”

  Zeke stormed back, leaning over the railing, pointing his finger and his nose at them accusingly. “Next one to break out into a song at the next phrase I randomly utter is getting fired out of a cannon!”

  “Ah, huzzah!” Doc declared. “I was looking for the perfect excuse to haul out the old Long Tom!”

  “No Long Toms!”

  “Doc, what you know about pirates?” Kendra asked.

  “Pirates? Pirates.” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I've dealt with my fair share of pirates over the course of my career. Doofus! Remember those pirates we encountered at Penzance?”

  “They had a major-general who was the absolute model of animals, veg-e-tables and minerals,” Doofus recalled fondly.

  A low rumbling and the unicorns came running from the kitchen, their aprons stained with the juice of many an innocent apple, squealing in terror. “Snappy!” Air blurted out. “There's somethin' approachin'! A large ship flyin' through the sky!”

  “Oh ho!” Snap bellowed, striking a pose. “So, Steely Dan's back already for seconds!” She raised her third fist. “And thirds!” She raised her fourth fist. “And fourths! Huzzah!”

  “Snaaaaaap,” Kendra whispered, the girls looking out the broken window or the front door. “That ain't Steely Dan's ship.”

  Everyone filed out of the house onto the Zasperate front lawn, a huge shadow spooking the lawn gnomes, sending them scurrying for their burrows. Samson got up, brushing shards of glass off himself and coughed up a lung, slurping it back down like a limp spaghetti noodle, when he saw the shadow forming around him. Spinning around on his hoof, his eyes grew wide, his mouth flopping down around his chest, gazing in wonder upon the massive aircraft carrier currently dominating the Pareidolia City suburbs.

  “Attention local fenderheads!” a stern voice blustered and bellowed, overriding every sound system on the block, coming from everywhere, blasting in all directions. “This is General Philip K. Punxsutawney! On behalf of a grateful nation, I am seeking out Dr. Jefferson Kenneth Lawful to recruit for a special mission involving hot pirate-babes and ancient treasure!”

  “Punxsutawney Phil?” Snap frowned. “Why do I feel I've done this all before?”

  Shortly, a small gunship blasted off from the carrier's vast underside, sailing across the suburban landscape, making a beeline for Snap's house. “Dad!” Acinony shouted through the window. “What is going on here?! I'm sitting up here, hormones raging, feeling fat and ugly-”

  “YOU'RE NOT UGLY!” everyone below shouted back.

  “Well, I feel ugly and that's what matters! And I notice you didn't deny the 'fat' part! But this! All this! I'm sick of the flying destroyers and battleships and whatever!”

  “Ironically, the two ships she names,” Hippie said, “we haven't seen flying around yet.”

  “If battleships flew,” Praleene mused, “how would that work in the game of 'Battleship'? How do you sink one then? Hmm? Did they ever update it for that possibility? Or is it still just plain old 'Battleship'?”

  The gunship, while infinitesimally small compared to the hulking sky fortress, still dwarfed their house, stirring up dust and debris. It rotated around, landing vertically right in the middle of the street, violating God only knows how many parking laws and zoning laws doing so, the circular hatch rotating open, a ramp extending down allowing a ten-foot tall man in a dashing green uniform resplendent with golden epaulets, braids and so many medals and commendations they dangled down to his knees. On his shoulders were a set of five stars, each one gleaming like gold. His hooked nose resembled an eagle, and his crew cut was so straight you could set your watch to it.

  He was not alone, a fact that brought no one any comfort except perhaps Doc and he smiled brightly, seeing his other daughter walk down the ramp behind the general, while two men, Frankenstein and Manny Vasquez followed in short order. The General saluted Doc who responded in kind. “Sir, General Philip K. Punxsutawney, but all you civilians can either call me Phil on the fly or just General.”

  “Okay, Phil-On-The-Fly!” Snap said, beaming happily.

  “Or Just General,” Hippie added.

  “Ah, nuts!” he groaned. “The freak of nature! I was warned about you in the briefing, and frankly, I'm gonna enjoy watching you die! And a stinkin' lousy hippie? Didn't we exterminate your kind in the Wars of 82?”

  “I beg your pardon,” Doc said calmly, “that 'freak of nature' is my granddaughter you so callously address.”

  “Yeah!” Snap yelped. “I mean, look at my address!” She gestured at the unkempt ivy-strewn facade and its menacing lawn. “It's pretty darn callous!”

  “Sincerest apologies, Dr. Lawful!” General Punxsutawney replied, only operating at one volume, namely, AC/DC concert. “I should have realized upon seeing the close familial resemblance!”

  “Abigail,” Zeke grunted, offering her the bare minimum due an in-law that gave him the personal willies. “And her top dog, Shrek.”

  “Zeke,” Abigail replied curtly. “And Dad. How's Acinony?”

  “She's up in the bedroom bemoaning how she gave up her beguiling figure to provide this fenderhead with offspring,” Doc answered.

  “She is not!” Zeke snarled. “Er, much.”

  “No fear,” Abigail said coolly. “Soon enough, the accursed Zasperate DNA will be purged, both from her body and from the very earth that groans in protest against those hated feet that trod upon it!”

  All eyes fell on her, and for a moment she shuffled, painfully aware she really stepped in it this time. Samson exploded. “WHO THE HELL TALKS LIKE THAT?”

  General Punxsutawney clapped his hands together, the shockwave nearly knocking everyone over, Doc, Snap, Doofus, and Hippie the only ones unaffected by his jovial outburst. “I think we all got off on the wrong foot here! Perhaps we should all settle down and work out our positions over a lovely bowl of apple cider flavored with peppermint and cinnamon!”

  Reacting as if they both shared a single brain cell, the unicorn sisters shrieked at the top of their lungs, considerably powerful despite their petite frames, and blazed off, vanishing back inside, slamming the door shut and barring it behind them.

  “Huh!” the General muttered. “Now what the Sam Hell Comes to Frogtown gotten into them two weirdos!”