Monkey Trick--Fiction

Monkey Trick


Longbow Liason Ward set her jaw and slid the folder over to the Magnificent Mogo, steeling herself for the hissy fit to come. He snatched it off the table and bristled predictibly, rising in his seat for a moment in protest before slumping back in his chair and thumbing the satin lapel of his vest.

"More police work..."
"I'm sorry Mogo. I picked you for this.."
"Not very super is it? I came to this city to fight crime as a super hero. Fighting super powered threats. If I wanted to do this.."
"If you wanted to do this you would've joined the police academy. Blah blah blah...we've been over this. I'm sorry. I am. But I need you for this. I need your special talents for THIS case. The cops can't handle it. I know it's disappointing...but people need your help on this. And there's a child involved as well."

Mogo slid his top hat off and turned it over. He reached inside and pulled out a large white rabbit, setting it on the table.

"Read the file."

The rabbit began to quickly scan the pages as he tapped his forehead with the brim of the hat in frustration. He stopped for a moment, rubbing his jaw and staring up at the ceiling.

"Body parts found scattered across King's row...in strange ways..."
"Yes. Like the arm they found suspended by string with the index finger pointing forward. Every time the wind blew it shifted forward and rang the door bell. Or all the human hair they found with the dolls in the toy section of that department store."

The rabbit finished reading the file and jumped back into the hat. Mogo shuffled the papers into the folder and slid it back to Ward.

"So...you don't believe it to be Vahzilok, or gang activity on the part of the skulls. But your
psychics think that all these different finds are somehow related."
"Correct."
"And this boy over on the south side. You think he's important somehow. Tell me in your own words what you think happened with him."

Ward closed her eyes for a moment and collected her impressions of the child. She was silent for a long moment then began to speak without looking up.

"He woke up. It was past midnight, everything was quiet. He didn't know what had woken him. He then heard a strange sound outside. He went to the window and looked out, but the glass was so dirty that all he could see were some vague brown shapes moving around. So he opened it and leaned outside to get a better look. And something was looking up at him. Something that scared the hell out of him." Ward looked up. "He's been petrified ever since. Won't get out of bed--continues to hide beneath his blankets. His mother used to be a corrections officer. She retired early due to an on the job injury. She's worried sick. She's also got a shotgun handy, ready to blow away the first shady character she sees."

"No father?"
"Nope, skipped out of town right after the kid was born...but you read that didn't you?"
"Well yeah..the bunny reads fast but its a bit slow digesting the information."
"Well at the very least I thought you could help these people cope..figure out what's wrong with the boy."

Mogo stood up and wriggled into his overcoat. He tossed the hat into the air and it flipped three times before landing squarely on his head. "I certainly am more entertaining than a cop."

Ward stood up and yanked hard on his sleeve. "Hey...take this one seriously. Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this one. We all do." The magician shrugged.

"Do you ever have a good feeling about it?"
"I suppose not."

He rubbed his gloved hands together until a red rose appeared between them. He pressed it into her hand and then bowed theatrically before turning to leave the room.

Pirate Intervention


Patti Cullen backed deeper into the narrow hallway. Her face was crinkly, criss crossed with deep lines of worry and pain. She was stiff, clutching the shotgun behind her left leg in an awkward gesture of concealment. She pushed her bangs to the side and stared at him with thinly veiled incomprehension.

"This...isn't a joke? You're for real..you can help him?" She looked him up and down. "You're not some..entertainer or something?"

Mogo took his hat off and rubbed his head. "No Ma'am. This looks weird I know. But they wouldn't have sent me if they didn't think I could help."
"Well...ok. He's upstairs. Come this way.


The kids room was small, crampt with piles of clothing and toys, posters and pencil drawings covering every available surface of wall. Robots and soldiers as far as the eye could see. The single window was hidden by heavy drapes. There was a large lump under a couple layers of blanket on the bed. It shifted slightly as Patti flicked on the overhead light.

"Honey? Baby there's a man here to see you...He's here to help us."

The boy didn't respond. Mogo stood in the doorway, raising his hands and speaking in a booming, baritone voice. "BEHOLD! THE MAGNIFICENT MOGO IS HERE TO RID THIS BEDROOM OF EVIL AND...THOSE DIRTY SOCKS OVER THERE ON THE FLOOR IN THE CORNER!" Still, the kid didn't stir. Mogo shrugged and looked at Patti.

"Tough crowd."He reached inside his right sleeve and pulled out a long cord of some dark substance. He ripped a piece off and stuffed it in his mouth, his jaw working hard to chew the large lump now in his cheek.

"What is that? Licorice?"
"No. But it's very good. Want some?"
"No. What are you going to do to help-"

Suddenly Mogo leaned forward and belched, the sound thundering in the small room. A jet of blue flame shot out of his mouth. It hit the opposite wall, sending wisps of blue light shimmering and sliding over the surface. Patti recoiled at the flames and he put his hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"It's not dangerous. Listen."

There were strange voices. Explosions. The sound of gunfire and machinery grinding. The woman's jaw dropped as the source became clear. Lines on the walls moving. The drawings coming to life.

"Oh my..."

Mogo went to the corner and sat on a small stool, leaning closer to a drawing of soldiers and tanks."What's the problem Sarge?"

A shrill voice floated of the paper. "It's all these damn robots sir! We can't contain them! They're everywhere!" The robots were indeed visible nearby, marching methodically from their drawing, across the wall towards the soldiers and their bunker. The puny gunfire of the stick figure marines didn't appear to phase them.

"I need immediate backup sir! Our position is about to be overrun! We can't hold 'em!"

Mogo held out his hand and gestured as if writing on it.
"Huh?"
"Pen and paper. Dammit woman hurry! They're losing ground here!"

Patti grunted and slid out, returning a moment later with a notepad and an assortment of pencils and pens in her fist. Mogo grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper and began scribbling.

"Pirates. Draw pirates--it's their only hope. Pirates are the only thing that can keep these metal fiends at bay." They both scribbled an assortment of crude ships and grinning stick figure men with cutlasses and eyepatches, peg legs and muskets. The ships peeled off the pages and floated to the wall, where the pirates clashed with the robots, iron swords and bullets clanging on shiny steel bodies. Suddenly the flames died and Mogo stood up, turning towards the bed.


The boy was peeking out from the blankets, the upper half of his face visible. His wispy blond hair was matted to his forehead. The eyes were dull and glossy.

"Tommy? Tommy honey this man is here to help us. See? He's ...magical. He has powers...."

Mogo waved to the boy, then snapped his fingers in the air several times. The eyes continued to stare blankly into nothingness.

"Your son has been mezzed."
"What do you mean? What is that?"
"He's been put in some sort of trance. He's hypnotized or mentally controlled by something. Otherwise he would've been charmed by the spell I just did, which just barely made a dent on his consciousness."
"Well can you do something about it? Can you snap him out of it?"
"Me? Well that's not really my specialty. But I brought a friend who is very good at dealing with this sort of thing."

Mogo removed his tuxedo coat and laid it on the edge of the bed. He mumbled an incantation quietly to himself then pulled the coat away, revealing a large rectangular box. It was carved of some dark wood with white dot inlays that gave the whole thing the appearance of an oversized domino. Patti watched as the man fumbled with the clasp on the side then turned to look at her.

"Prepare to be AMAZED."

Very, very nice FD ! I like the style, and the humor ! Really entertaining !

OMG!!! Am loving Mogo!!!

This is VERY imaginative!!! I can't wait to read more!!!

COOL a new story to read!

Thanks guys!

Mr. Fibbs


The box held a little wooden man. He was almost a miniature version of Mogo, bar the fact that he had an oversized wooden head and eyes, and that his clothing, hat, tie, and goatee were all white in contrast to Mogo's, which were all black.

"This is the miraculous Mr. Fibbs."
"A dummy? Like a ventriloquist's dummy?"
"Yes, but so much more."

Mogo took Fibbs from the box and placed him on his knee. The dummy suddenly jerked and came to life, its eyes clacking open and closed, teeth chattering, arms and legs wiggling. Its head rolled to the side and the big shiny eyes gazed up at Mogo.

"And how are you today good sir?"
"Very well, thank you Mr. Fibbs. We have a boy in a trance."
"Yes? Where?"

Fibbs jerked his body around and looked at Tommy.

"Oh hey. Kid. Hey you! Over here! HEY KID. OVA HERE I WANNA SHOW YA SOMETHIN!"

Tommy blinked and turned his head slightly to look at the dummy. His eyes widened slightly and he blinked again.

"YEAH YEAH, THAT'S IT. PAY ATTENTION WE'RE GONNA SHOW YOU A TRICK."


Mogo looked at Patti. "Can you grab that wiffle bat over there next to the dresser?"
"Um..yeah sure." She retrieved the bat and offered it to Mogo.

"No keep it. I need you to smack me in the knee with it. As hard as you can."
"What? Are you serious? Why?"
"Yep. I need you to do it to show Fibb's power. Go ahead, it's fine."

Patti pulled back then snapped the bat across Mogo's knee. The magician sat there, smiling silently, but Mr. Fibbs jerked and clutched his knee joint with stubby wooden fingers.

"OUCH! DAMN LADY WHAT ARE YA DOING! THAT HURT! WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU TO DESERVE THAT GEEEZE OW OW OW OW!"
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you! He told me to do it.."
"Don't worry Mrs. Cullen. That's something Fibbs is really good at. He can take other people's painful experiences and express it himself so that they can be rid of it. I'd like Tommy to have a turn with Mr. Fibbs. Do you think you'd like that Tommy?"

The boy licked his lips and nodded slightly. Mogo pulled the boys arm out from the blanket and laid it along his side, slightly bent. Then he set Mr. Fibbs in the gap between the elbow and the boy's body. Fibbs spasmed then suddenly jerked up, eyes wide.

"AAAAAAH AHHHHHHHHHH HELP ME MOM-MOMMY HELP ME I'M SCARED MAKE IT GO AWAY I'M AFRAID HE'S GONNA KILL ME HELP HELP HELP HELP MAKE IT STOP STOP IT HE'S GONNA GET ME STOP HIM PLEASE HELP HELP HELP HELP..."

Patti lurched forward and Mogo threw out his arm to stop her. "Wait."
Tommy suddenly sat up in bed. He ran his fingers threw his hair and stared down at Mr. Fibbs.
"Is he alive?"
"Yes he is. How do you feel Tommy?"
"Great! I'm not afraid any more. Fibbs took my fear."
"Yep Fibbs is awesome that way. Do you think you can tell me what happened the other night?"

Tommy slid off the bed and ran to hug his mother as Mr. Fibbs flopped face down on the bed. Mogo picked him up and placed him once more on his knee. The boy rubbed his eyes and looked at the magician.

"I was asleep and I heard a noise. Like someone yelling or fighting. So I got out of bed and went to the window to see. There were people out there. It was weird...like the air was dark. Brown. Like there was chocolate milk floating in the air. It was hard to see. But someone was getting hurt I think. And I opened my window and yelled at them to stop...."

The boy fidgeted nervously shifting side to side on his feet.

"When I yelled...something looked up at me. It had weird eyes, like big and glowing..and they weren't placed right..somehow. Sombody in a hood looking up..and I could only see those eyes. And I heard a voice in my head." The boy bit his lip and clutched Patti's arm, his eyes watering. "I heard this voice laughing and saying that they were gonna come back and get me. That I was gonna die for being nosey."

Mogo raised his hand. "Look at me. Both of you look at me. That is NEVER going to happen. Do you understand? I will never let that happen to you guys. You have my word. Fibbs is that gonna happen? Are we going to let that happen?"
"aww HELLLLLL NO!"

The Cullens smilled a bit as Mogo waved his finger at them. "See? See? I know it sounds ironic, but Mr. Fibbs NEVER LIES!"

Patti kissed Tommy on the head and then shot an anxious glance. "But ...what are we going to do? What if you're not here? I have a gun, but I can't always be here all the time. And what if it's not enough?"
"Ah well....allow me to elaborate. Please have a seat somewhere. You two really need to understand what's going to happen next."

Golem


"Tommy are you familiar with the expression zero tolerance?"
The boy scratched his head and bowed his head in thought for a moment. "Yes. That's like when you do something bad and you get in a lot of trouble right away. Like the most trouble you can get into..."
"That's right. Like the bad people that threatened to hurt you. If they show up here, they're gonna face maximum punishment right away..."

Patti grunted. "That's EXACTLY what I want. Anyone that comes after my boy is gonna get what's coming to them. Even if I have to do it myself I will."

Mogo looked at them both. "Well we need to be on the same page here guys. This is not something you can talk about with your school friends...or your police friends. Or even other super heroes that might show up here some time. Like the people I work for. This is our secret. Just the three of us ok?"

Patti nodded. "Gotcha."
"Yes sir! I understand it's a super secret." Tommy's eyes widened with excitement.
"Ok then. Another thing is, um..try not to have guests over until this problem is resolved. We don't want any accidents. If somebody does have to come in, keep them down stairs and one of you stay with them at all times."
"Why Mister Mogo? What's the problem?"

Mogo glanced around the room. "Tommy we're gonna do a trade. I want you to get me your best robot. The coolest, strongest one."

The boy slid off the bed and went to a small table that had an assortment of action figures posed on the top. He returned with a boxy, vintage looking robot with claw gripper hands and chrome antennae on the top of its shiny red tin head.

"This one."
Mogo removed his top hat, turned it over and held it out to the boy. "Drop him in." Tommy dropped the toy inside and listend for the sound of it hitting the bottom, his eyes widening when that sound never came.

"Now reach inside, pull something out, and place it on the bed." Tommy pulled out a flat, black square--about the same size as a compact disc jewel case. He set it down next to Mogo, who murmered an incantation quietly and passed his open palm over the top of the shape.

"Ok, now I need you both to touch this at the same time. I'm going to count down from three. When I say zero, I want you both to touch it with your index fingers. Ok? Ready? Three...two...one...zero."
"Ahhh!
"WOO geeze!"

Large arcs of static electricity licked their fingers as they touched the object. Mogo laughed and directed Tommy to place the thing on the middle of the floor. Suddenly it started expanding, silently shifting through the air like a shadow. It grew bigger and blockier--a torso, arms, and a big square head forming over two rectangular legs that had tank style treads for feet. Blue lightning flashed in its glass eyes as it crashed its claw hands together and began turning back and forth surveying its environment. Suddenly it darted through the doorway and started speeding down the hall.

"What's it doing?"
"A perimeter sweep. It's learning the layout of the residence it's tasked to guard."
"Cool! Can I watch?"
"Yes Tommy. But be careful, it can be a bit clumsy sometimes. Don't try to ride it and don't tell it to handle anything that's delicate and could break easily."
"Ok!" The boy left the room and ran down the hall in pursuit of the robot.

Patti rubbed her hip and looked at Mogo. "Is it dangerous?"
"To you guys...no. If anyone breaks into the house it will kill them. It won't ask questions. It will just kill until the threat is removed. I've only used it once before."
"Ok, I understand."
"It can also help you a bit. Do some simple tasks like heavy lifting if you need help. Just don't try to take it outside, that will confuse it and maybe dismiss it altogether."
"I see."

Mogo replaced the hat on his head and rose from the edge of the bed.

"Just a couple questions before I head out. Is there anything strange about this neighborhood? Like haunted houses...scarey old men...strange lights? Even any myths about stuff like that. Stuff that kids like Tommy would tell each other to freak each other out."
"Mmmm not really anything spooky like that. Um there is one odd thing though. Back several years ago there was a lot more gang activity happening right around here. They used to have fights--like when they'd duel each other to settle disputes and sometimes initiations. There was a courtyard that didn't open on to the street. You could only reach it through a couple narrow alleys that led in to it. They called it 'the stick up' or 'the knife-fightin place'. The kids that live around here talk about it."

"Is there more to it than that?"
"Well sort of. That Blue Steel fellow came into this area with a group of his men and cleared out the gangs. The locals went back there periodically to check and see if any were coming back to the territory. The thing is...we couldn't find it. Nobody could find it. It just wasn't where anybody remembered it had been."
"Hmmm. Interesting. And you don't think somebody maybe just put a new building in or something? Somehow changed the geography?"
"No. There hasn't been any new construction in that part of town for a long time."
"I see. Well I'll be on my way then."

He handed over a slip of paper with a telephone number. "I'll be in touch, but call that number if there's an emergency."
"Thank you."

YAY!!!

*eats popcorn and waits for more*

Yeah, I REALLY like Mogo.

Base of Operations


"Dude...."
"Aw come on. It'll just take you a couple minutes. No big deal." Mogo laughed and stroked his goatee, his eyes sparkling as he looked over the massive heap of waste.

The hero known as Salamander gaped at the dumpster overflowing with bags of rotting filth that spilled out around it like a noxious moat. He nudged some of the garbage at the edge with his foot, pinching his nose at the stench that wafted up as the environment was disturbed.

"Why do you have to get in there? There are lots of abandoned buildings in this area, you could set up shop in any one of them."
"Would you crawl in that dumpster?"
"Hell no."
"That's why. Nobody will disturb me in there. My illusion will guarantee that it continues to look and smell this way even after we've cleaned it up. Then when I'm done with my stakeout--the thing will actually be clean and emptied out. There are people living in this area that have had their trash removal discontinued for a while now. It's a small gesture we can do to help them as well..."
"Oh alright."

Salamander pulled his thick blast goggles down over his eyes and then rubbed the palms of his rubbery green gauntlets together producing a bright orange flame. He thrust his hands forward and a jet of fire washed over the surface of the dumpster, the bags of trash sizzling and erupting. His whole body began to glow with heat as thick gusts of acrid smoke swirled around him, nearly concealing him at times. Mogo placed his tophat upside down on the ground and tapped the rim with a long black wand. The soot and fumes swirled and twisted in the air like a small tornado, then were sucked inside.

After five minutes of effort, Salamander had the dumpster glowing a faint orange color. The ground around it was cleared of refuse, pristine save for a very fine layer of ash. He turned and moved away, and the dumpster began to fade again to its original color.

"Don't even think of touching it right now. It's still gonna have to cool for a bit."
"Okie dokie. Thank you my good man!"
"You magical types are real weirdos. How about next time you call me when there's actually something to fight?"
"Oh..right. I forgot..." Mogo reached inside his hat and pulled out a roll of material, tossing it to the ground. It unfurled into a life-size paper skeleton that started waving its arms around and bouncing bow-leggedly through the alley. "There you go. Better stop it before it gives someone a nasty cut!"
"Ha ha ha you ***." Salamander turned and launched himself through the air, bouncing off the roof across the street and leaping out of sight.

--

Mogo kept the far wall of the dumpster glowing for heat and light. He laid a street map of the area on the ground in from of him, then placed a large piece of transparent vellum over the top. After roughly half an hour of meticulously tracing on the surface with an ink pen, he lifted the vellum up and began shredding it into tiny pieces of confetti. He gathered all the bits into his hands and chanted over them, then dropped them back on to the map where they realigned themselves to recreate the drawing.

"Very good. Now take a look outside. See if anything unusual is happening in the neighborhood."

The small bits of paper launched themselves into the air. They floated out of the dumpster where they were taken away by the wind currents outside. On the original map, faint lines of discoloration began to appear marking their progress. Mogo leaned back against the wall of the dumpster. He removed some foodstuffs from the inside pockets of his coat: bread, cheese, a knife, some small plates, a bottle of wine. He lit a small candle for additional light and produced a newspaper from his hat. He looked over the front page. "The excitement never ends."


Three hours later, Mogo checked the map. It was now completely discolored, both with markings from the position of the scraps of paper and darker lines that represented vectors of motion. People that had been observed moving through the area. A few blocks away from his position there was a cluster of lines. He waved his hand over it and the marks lit up, forming a glowing elliptical shape. The magician closed his eyes, concentrating while he spoke.

"Yea, it's strange. Someone lingering there for at least two and a half hours. But not begging? A drug dealer? no? Not a prostitute either.. Ok. Well keep up the observation, I'll go check this one out.

First encounter


It was a woman, a bag lady pushing a cart. Wrapped in a fuzzy grey blanket that had been dragged through the slush and grime of the streets. She mumbled to herself, her worn synthetic wool mittens tapping sporadically on the handle. They stopped to scoop up some bits of newspaper and fast food packaging, shoving them into a plastic bag in the basket.

Mogo watched her dither about aimlessly. Something was wrong. Her face was too full...too healthy. The skin wasn't cracked and faded with the elements. She couldn't have been on the street long. A dingy scarf held whisps of neat, well maintained hair that poked out from beneath. Even from across the street traces of mascara were visible on her face.

He walked on ahead, preferring to greet her from the front. The street was empty. Still, save for a vent that spewed steam in near the opening to a small parking lot. She stopped as she saw him approach, smiling as she looked him up and down. He glanced reflexively at his vest and coat to check that everything was in order then bowed slightly, rubbing his gloved palms together.

"Good day madame! My name is Mogo and I am checking out this neighborhood. I heard there is some very..um...affordable housing here. I thought I would take a look around and see if it suits me."

She rubbed her eyes with the fringe on the blanket. "Oh my..well it's...just...wonderful..."

"Really? Well is there anything interesting going on hereabouts?"
"I have..this...I've been saving it." She reached inside a trash bag and retrieved a semi-mushed pickle, handing it over to Mogo. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger as he flicked it away, pretending to deposit it into his vest pocket.

"Do you have the time?"
"Yes indeed." Mogo slid his pocketwatch out of his vest and flicked it open. As he began to read it, the claw end of a hammer slammed into the brim of his hat, skipping off the surface and gouging the side of his face as it sent him sprawling to the ground. There were stars as the back of his skull slapped the pavement. The hat rolled off his head as the woman snarled and stepped towards him, raising the hammer above her head with both hands.

Mogo struggled to focus his eyes. His head throbbed and there was a warm weight pressing down on his chest. He tried to jerk himself up but the world began spinning around him and he was thrown back to the street by his own vertigo. Not his finest moment..being KOed by a bag lady. If the hat hadn't absorbed some of the blow he'd be dead. He could still be dead if she was left to finish the job.

There was a faint sniffing sound in his ear as the weight on his chest shifted. He heard the
woman grunt and growl overhead. The hammer passed through the air overhead, yet failed to make contact with his body. As his vision returned Mogo witnessed vague white shapes launching themselves through the air like ping pong balls at the woman's nebulous grey sillhouette. The shadow of the hammer swung in wide arcs as she was overwhelmed by the globs of white and knocked off balance.

--

The cart creaked slightly as he leaned on it for support, holding his handkerchief tightly against the gash on his forehead. Rabbits continued to emerge from the hat, piling on the woman and preventing her from regaining her footing. Mogo rummaged through the contents of the cart and found a purse with a wallet and ID. The crazy was Karen Stewart, a financial analyst from Steel Canyon. Now deranged on the street.

He called it in. The police would hold her under observation. Longbow specialists would account for her mental state. He needed stitches and painkillers and rest. He slid around the edge of cart, gripping the side so he wouldn't fall off. He pushed the fake bag lady with his foot.

"Hey, I get it. I get what you were doing. Killing time right? You were killing time?"

She grinned, glaring at him wide-eyed. "Yes. Killing. Killing time..but it didn't work. I still have to...crush your head. I have to cave your head in with the hammer. Yep hehehehehe. Mmmm-hmmmm.

Mogo started as his phone began vibrating in his pocket. "Yeah?"
"Umm..Mr. Mogo?"
"Yes that's me. Who is thi...is this Patti?"
"Yeah, hey..can you come here? As soon as possible? I need you over here. Something happened a little while ago...it's bad. I need your help."
"Yeah I'll..." He grimaced, a lance of pain shooting through his skull. "Yeah I'll be there soon. If you've got any medical supplies on hand..get them.."
"Oh my god, are you alright?"
"Yeah yeah don't worry, I'll be over soon."

Interesting, that bag lady. *nod nods*

Love da' rabbits!

Guests


The door creaked open as Mogo staggered up the porch steps, leaning hard against the railing.

"Oh my god what happened? Are you alright?"
"Yes I was careless is all. Took a shot to the head, it'll be alright.."
"Come in, come in let me take a look at it..."

He shuffled through the doorway as Patti fumbled with his crude field dressing.

"That's quite a gash. Are you sure you don't need stitches?"
"Just some aspirin please. It'll heal overnight, I'll be good as new.."
"Ok some aspirin then..sure.."

He looked around the small living room then glanced up the stairs.

"Where's Tommy? He ok?" She returned with two pills and a glass of water.
"Yes, he's upstairs playing with the robot. Playing a board game or something. I told him to go up to his room for a while."
"Hmmmm the golem's usually not that bright. It must like your son."

She fidgeted nervously, her eyes wandering around the room. Mogo swallowed his pills and returned the water. "Ok show me what happened." She nodded and lead him through the living room towards the kitchen at the back of the apartment.

A drawer was open next to the sink, several kitchen utensils scattered on the floor below.

There were muddy foodprints and scuff marks where heavy objects had been dragged. Spatters of blood if you looked closely. The worn formica counter top had a dark arcing burn mark across the top. A small table and chairs had been pushed to right blocking the refridgerator. In the back, to the left, was a small alcove with steps that led to an exterior door. The space was filled with a large heap covered with blankets. Patti gestured to the drawer, visibly trembling.

"I didn't hear them come in. I didn't hear anything...and all the doors were locked and shut. I don't know how they got in here."
"What were they doing when you found them?"
"I found them in here. On the floor. I heard a loud noise..there was a crackling sound and some smoke. It set off the fire alarm in the hall. The robot was there. It had killed them. They were on the floor and one of them had a steak knife in his hand. I think they were digging through there looking for knives. I never even heard them break in...."

She buried her mouth in her hand staring at him in wide-eyed horror.

"Did Tommy see anything?"
"No I made him stay upstairs. I got the robot to pile the bodies there and I covered them up then called you."
"You didn't call the police or anybody else?"
"No..."
"Good."

Mogo placed his hat on the table then went to the corner, lifting the corner of a blanket to get a better look at the bodies. Two medium sized derelicts. Shabby coats and shoes. Worn gloves, hoods. They'd been shocked then bludgeoned to death. There was a considerable amount of blood pooled up beneath the bodies.

"Do you have a towel or something? I need to check their pockets but I don't want to step in it."
"Umm yeah, sure. Just a minute."

She left the room and Mogo rubbed his head , scowling in anticipation of what he knew would come next. He heard her at his back and took the large bath towel, spreading it beneath him so that he could kneel over the corpses. After a couple minutes of sifting through the piled remains he was able to retrieve their wallets. He rose to his feet and leaned against the opposite wall, flipping through the contents.

"Hmmm."
"What were they? Gang members or something?"
"Nope. Jack and Robert. One's a lawyer and the other a financial planner. Both married. Bob had kids."
"Oh good lord..no..but why? Why did they do this?"
"They were being controlled by something. They were compelled to do this."
"Oh my god...and we killed them...this is such a nightmare.." She began sobbing violently in her hands.

Mogo took her firmly by the shoulders. "Patti...Patti! We didn't kill them. I killed them. I'm responsible. And if I hadn't..then you'd probably be dead. And Tommy. We just don't know..

She wiped her eyes and nodded. He turned and went to the open silverware drawer, rummaging through the contents and pulling out a large metal spoon.

"Do you like this spoon?"
"Um....yes.."
"What about this drawing over here on the fridge? Tommy did this right? It's a spaceship?"
"Yeah, I thought that was one of his better drawings." Mogo snapped it off the door.
"Good."

He placed the drawing and the spoon on the table next to his tophat. He reached inside the hat and pulled out a strange metal fixture. Something like a cross between a candlestick and the framework for a globe, with a series of concentric rings that could turn around the space for a small candle. Mogo pulled one out of his coat pocked and placed it inside.

"Ok Patti. I need you to hold it together for the next part, ok? I need you to be strong. We're going to try to find out why they came here."
"How?"
"We're going to ask them."

I really, Really, REALLY like Mogo.

The sense of seriousness and silliness mixed in this story is just... perfect... to me.

Spookitchen


The overhead light sputtered and dimmed as bands of shadow from the strange contraption began shifting over the walls. The metal bands circled Mogo's small candle as the flame wavered, it's light passing from yellow to red, then green and blue. The air cooled and faint wisps of mist formed over the magician's breath. He began knocking lightly on the surface of the table.

"Hey Patti, I gotta tell you about this friend of mine."
"Huh? Yeah?"

Strange sounds in the room. Something scraping faintly on the floor. And liquid dripping.

"Yeah this guy is going to turn 40..and his wife asked him what he wanted for his birthday. And he told her that what he really wanted was a threesome with another woman."

Patti stiffled a scream as the bodies in the corner began shifting and rising underneath the blankets.

"And his wife felt guilty because the guy never really asks for much, so she said yes!"

The corpse closest to Mogo got up, the blanket sliding off to reveal his head bent to the side, part of the forehead caved in, the dead eyes sliding blankly in the sockets while the jaw hung open vaguely mumbling.

"So then she had to figure out how to hook up with some woman that was actually willing to do this you know? Can you imaging that?"

The second corpse now stood behind the first, it's head bowed forward. They began shuffling towards Mogo, their hands lifted towards him.

"Oh my god watch out!"
"Hmmm?" Mogo turned as the dead man in front began clutching the sleeve of his tuxedo coat. "Here I think you're gonna get the spoon." He pried the man's stiff grip off his sleeve and placed the spoon inside the palm, closing the fingers around it.

"And you get the drawing." He placed the paper in the second man's outstretched hand, helping him form the fingers to actually hold it securely. Then he turned back to Patti.

"I'm thinking the guy is full of crap. I just don't picture something like that really happening with a couple, do you? It seems farfetched."

Mogo pounded his fist on the table and the metal frame began spinning furiously, the candle flame beaming intensely like a tiny star. The corpses were suddenly consumed with blue light, their forms melting away and becoming spectral versions of their previous selves. They looked at each other with confusion then turned to Mogo. He bowed slightly and nodded.

"Greeting gentlemen." Patti could see them reply, see them mouthing words, but the room remained silent save for the slight squeel of the metal fram spinning.

"Can you tell me where the knife fighting place is?" The men looked at each other uncertainly for a moment, then the one in back began gesturing as he spoke to Mogo.

"I see. Well how did you two find it? What's the pattern?" Both men gestured enthusiastically as they described the way. Mogo seemed to be able to hear them. He nodded, rubbing his goatee reflectively as they answered his query. When they had finished, he placed his hands together in a praying posture and addressed them.

"My friends, I beg your forgiveness for my part in your untimely deaths. Please let these offerings light your way. Find your place of rest and be at peace in your transition to the next world."

The second man to rise pointed at the magician's pocket. Mogo reached inside and pulled out one of the wallets, which promptly flipped open to the plastic sleeve with family pictures. Patti could see him sink a bit, as if someone had pressed a heavy burden on his back. His head was bowed as he spoke.

"Yes, I will do what I can. I'm so sorry for your loss."

The men nodded, looking blankly at Patti for a moment before they turned to leave. They descended the small stairway and passed straight through the doorway without opening it. Mogo's candle went out with a puff of smoke and the light returned. All physical remnants of the incident were gone, even the burn marks on the counter top.

How interesting...... *nods*

Premonition


Mogo had just finished lowering himself back in the dumpster when his phone buzzed.

"Hi it's Ward."
"Good evening Mademoiselle."
"What have you turned up?"
"Besides the crazy lady who tried to cave my skull in?"

He shifted on to his back, listening intently. There was too long a pause after the question. He knew her well enough to sense evasiveness.

"Well? What's the story on the bag lady?"
"Umm well, she has some sort of psychosis. Disassociation from reality. The police are doing a psychological assessment, which will take time. Then we'll have a look at her if anything unusual comes up."
"Really..."
"Well..it is their jurisdiction, we try not to step on their toes if we can help it."
"I see."

Another awkward pause.

"How did it turn out with the kid? Anything interesting?"
"Nope. He just heard a strange noise outside. Got scared. I did a couple parlor tricks for him and he cheered right up. Right as the mail."
"Really. That was all?"
"Mmm-hmmmm."
"Well then...I guess it was all a waste of time."
"Well..maybe. I dunno it's only been a couple days since you sent me out."
"Yes, well I think I'm going to have you come back in. I've got a couple of other cases I could use you on."
"Oh?"
"Yes."

Mogo glanced at his map of the area and the new markings that had developed since his encounter with the bag lady.

"Mmmmm you know...hate to be a...what's the opposite of team player? Hate to not be a team player but if you're cancelling this case I think I'll take some time off before diving into another one. That bag lady clunked me pretty good. Gonna get some rest. Maybe have it looked at."
"Oh well you should come into the office. We've got people that can heal you up no problem. Don't even need to make an appointment, just come in."
"Ah well, I need to go see my regular physician. It's his jurisdiction after all. You know...he doesn't like people stepping on his toes and all that."

Ward's heavy sigh on the other end of the line was palpable.

"You know, for a career illusionist you're a terrible liar."
"Moi?"
"Yes you. And the only time you use French is when you're gloating or lieing."
"Ha ha ha really?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you just lay it out? What's the problem? Something happened...What is it?"
"One of the psychics had a vision that you are going to die."
"Oh? How?"

Mogo squeezed the phone between his head and shoulder as he fumbled inside his coat, pulling out a pen and a small journal.

"It's not clear exactly how..."
"No cause of death? How do they know I'm going to die?"
"The exact nature of the vision was that...you would cease to exist. I don't know. You would just fade from reality. You know how difficult it is to translate these things."

He scribble a note in the back of the journal.

"Oh yeah I know. They're very subjective. That's why I don't put much stock in them."
"Well I do. Others do. Recluse certainly does."
"Which one had the vision?"
"Mazari Tenko. She has a very high rate of accuracy."
"Is that the one that uses peyote to get in a trance?"
"No."
"Hmmmm. When is it supposed to happen?"
"Soon. Less than a week."
"Good, that's not long to wait. When I show up to prove her wrong she can buy me a drink."

He scribbled more information in the journal entry then flipped to another page that contained a list of financial transactions.

"Listen. I know you're going to do whatever you want regardless of what I say. Just...don't be rash. Be cautious. And if there's a problem...let me help you. Whatever it is. You don't need to handle it alone."
"I know. Thank you Ward."
"Give me a call as soon as you have it all figured out."
"I will."

Mogo slid the phone back in his pocket then jerked his hand out when something bit his index finger. He flicked his wrist and a small plastic wind-up skull clattered across the floor of the dumpster. It hopped to its feet and hobbled around in circles, its teeth chattering manically. He gestured with his other hand and light coalesced in the air until it became a small iron anvil, which promptly fell on the plastc skull shattering it to bits.

Mogo raised his arms. "YOUR WINNA AND NEW CHAM-PEE-YON, THE MAGNIFICENT MOGO!!!"
The alley echoed with raucous applause.

Red Carpet


The wall was plain. Just red brick meticulously stacked and mortared in place, like any other turn of the century office building. And that's why, once he really looked, it stood out like a sore thumb. No graffiti. No bird crap, erosion, wear and tear. No aging. Something was clearly out of place, but you probably had to be a local to see it without knowing what you were looking for.

Mogo laid the rolled up carpet at his feet, and within moments the wall began to fade revealing an alley. Of its own accord, the carpet began to roll forward and he followed closely behind.

"Looks like we were just in time."

The walls on either side were a mishmash of different buildings from different eras. Their physicality was indeterminant, sometimes just a grey blur. Space and distance were distorted, at points Mogo made no forward progress at all despite keeping a brisk pace to follow the roll of fabric. Eventually it emerged from the alley into a square courtyard of buildings. The carpet stopped. Mogo waved his hand and it sank into the ground, becoming a strip of color on the surface. Looking back the way he came, it appeared to stop several feet into the alley, but he knew that it remained there out of sight. His tether back to everyday reality.

The courtyard smelled of rot. The walls circling the place were dirty and sometimes charred from fire, the windows mostly broken with shards of glass littering the ground. Mogo covered his nose as he spotted a freshy dead body off to the left. A vagrant keeled over in a heap along the wall, dark wet stains underneath and spattered on the wall overhead.

"Lovely. I guess this is the right place."

As he started moving deeper into the square, other bodies caught his eye, as well as people hunched over near small fires or leaning against the wall staring vacantly into the sky. It wasn't long before one of them spotted him and let out a short, barking laugh. And almost in unison, all of them began to rise and move towards him, pulling blunt weapons like lead pipes from their ratty garments or stopping to pick up large fragments of glass or stone from the dirty ground.

Mogo took his tophat by the brim and reached inside as he spoke, his voice amplified as bright sparks poured out around his hand.

"You have this one chance people. Move away and you won't be hurt."

The mob paused for a moment. They smiled and stared at the sparks, which caught the glint in their glassy eyes. The vagrant nearest Mogo mumbled.

"Only this time Pops...just got one chance to make a good first impression." He waved a

large iron wrench into his free hand. Another man pointed.

"How you gonna stop us..you can't stop us.."

Mogo started backing away as the first few drew closer. In the background he could see more figures emerging from an alley. The were snarling and mumbling incoherently as they made their way towards him. Suddenly the hat launched itself like a rocket off of Mogo's hand, a bright jet of sparks propelling it into the chest of the nearest thug and knocking him off his feet. It bounced high in the air, spinning and spraying smokey whisps of light that hovered there, even as the hat flew back and spun into Mogo's free hand. Long flickering shadows stretched over the courtyard as the whisps swam through the air like neon tadpoles. Mogo bowed.

"Ladies and gentlemen I apologize for any discomfort you may experience during tonight's performance. If you would like to avoid being beaten senseless, feel free to exit the courtyard at any time."

A rock flew over Mogo's head. He counted about 15 men in the mob, their faces pale and shifting in the wavering light. They were hesitating, caught off guard by the strange lights and shadows which caused the magician to bend and flicker in front of them, his actual position hard to discern. The man who had been bowled over by the hat wrenched himself to his feet, gripping the wrench tightly with both hands.

"It's gonna take more than sparks and hat to stop us all from caving in your skull."
"Quite correct my good man. I actually feel a bit dodgy about this..it seems a bit unsportsmanlike..but you see, I brought my own gang."

Mogo flicked his right wrist and a deck of cards appeared in his palm.

"As far as I can tell, I have you louts outnumberd 3 to 1." He extended his arm and the cards flew off the deck, littering the ground in front of him until only 2 remained in his hand.

"And I hope I don't have to resort to these two." Mogo peeked at the faces of the cards in his hand and shuddered dramatically.

Can't wait to see what the two cards he still holds are. Jokers?

Mogo stepped back to make room for the cards, which stretched out over the ground like pale shadows until the faces were near life size, the eyes of the royal figures shifting back and forth as they looked out into the three dimensional world above them.

The thug with the wrench yelled as a shiny white hand peeled off a card and grabbed his ankle. He tripped and pitched backwards landing on other cards which stuck to his body like flypaper. As he flailed his arms and scrambled to his feet, the motion pulled other figures out of their cards. The scene was repeated all throughout the courtyard, as the men tried to pull themselves away or beat the cards with their weapons. The very effort to pull free caused the cardmen to come to life, and as they emerged they began to organize around Mogo, fighting off the various assailants.

The squat numbered diamonds formed defensive lines, pushing the crazies back as they tried to get closer to the magician and deflecting all attacks. They clanked solidly as the knives and pipes and rocks impacted harmlessly on their surface. The Jack of diamonds waved his sword in the air, deflecting the objects thrown at them from a distance. The king and queen each grabbed a man and then slammed their bodies together, knocking the fight out of them.

In contrast, the clubs didn't emerge from their cards. Rather they waited until someone stepped over them, then physical objects would rise out of the surface. Five of the men found themselves caged with iron bars or trapped within boxes formed by upright cards that had joined together to form makeshit prison cells.

Mogo smiled at the confused brawl in front of him. The diamonds and clubs had almost subdued the mob before the spades had even entered the field. His overconfidence almost cost him dearly as a bullet slammed into his left shoulder spinning him around violently so that he lost his footing and sprawled to the pavement. The searing pain spiked for a moment then suddenly abated in the midst of a pink glow that was encompasing his body. He leaned up and nodded to the Queen of Hearts who wagged her finger at him disapprovingly.

"My apologies my lady. I'll be more careful from here on out." He knocked three times on the ground.

"Spades, get up please. Let's get this done."

Yeah more posted! I LIKE how this is going.

I love that the Queen of Hearts healed him.

Wow ! Just caught up and very glad I did Mogo is "uncommon" enough a hero that most everything he does seems innovative. Nice work indeed !

New Arrivals


It should have ended with the spades. They were the most offense oriented suit. Often the diamonds could stop an attack purely by absorbing or deflecting all the damage--long enough for the clubs to cage the enemy and hold them for the arrest. The hearts could repair the damage the cards took in the process and extend their fighting abilities. So in a perfect world, Mogo wouldn't even need to call on the spades. But when it was necessary, they didn't mess around, and if things went poorly then some of those arrests would have to be deferred in lieu of an ambulance ride.
The queen didn't hold Mogo's bias towards preserving life and limb, but she still desired his approval, however misguided he may be. When her whip lashed out at the firearm she managed to cut through the barrel without severing the man's fingers. A slower follow up strike broke the man's right collar bone and drove him to the ground. But he remained whole and didn't suffer an amputation in the process.
She smiled at the king of spades as he spun around, a large weight on the end of a cord shooting forward like a bullet towards one of the vagrants. It bounced off the side of his head knocking him out and then, as the king retracted the line, it wrapped around a second man's leg jerking him off balance. There was a moment of relative calm as the courtyard was littered with groaning men physically pacified or contained by Mogo's deck.
Then a bolt of energy blasted through one of the cages, sending a small group of clubs spinning through the air. A new group of enemies had entered the space from a side alley. And unlike the first group, these had some super powers.

"Oh great..."

There were maybe five. They were wearing grungy castoffs like everyone else, but they were larger, more powerful. Maybe guards that had been culled from the Tsoo or the outcast. One lifted his arms and caused a rain of frigid slush that had the diamonds slipping and shifting around as they tried to move their defensive formation to the frontline. Another man set several of the cards on fire with jets of flame from his hands, while a third hulking figure blocked the ranged attacks of the spades.
They pressed forward, blasting their way through the defensive ranks of the diamonds and clubs. The hearts were hard pressed to repair the damage being inflicted on the other suits. The King made an emergency hand gesture to Mogo before being encased in a layer of ice and falling flat on to the ground. The king and queen of diamonds struggled to slow the advance of the hulking figure which seemed to grow in size as it pushed against them. The spades leapt on the fire blaster pummeling him into submission but taking heavy damage in the process, maybe 5 of them burned beyond repair as he emitted a last burst of flame around his body before losing balance. A large chunk of ice abruptly crossed Mogo's field of vision. He stepped back and knelt down behind the nearest diamond, pulling one of the remaining two cards from his hand.

"Hope you can do the trick my friend." The face on the card smiled and winked back.