Sophie glared. "You're saved. We saved you. What's'a matter, Hobie? You could at least be grateful and eat a damned hot dog!"
 

Green Sun
Chapter 5 Hot Diggety Toad

by Donna Lamb

No sooner had Carson made his wish for rescue than he heard the thrum of a large engine and a blood-red, antique Land Rover appeared around a nearby rocky knob. He stared. The canvas top of the old-style British 4x4 was down and a blonde wearing stagey makeup, long black opera gloves, a floppy rose-colored hat and a purplish evening gown stood in the passenger compartment. Carson didn't notice the driver at first, but when he did he saw what appeared to be a gorilla in a monkey suit--a tuxedo, that is.

"I must have hit my head," Carson murmured. "I wonder if I even got out of the fire alive?"

The apparition wheeled around the larger obstacles and over the smaller ones to come to a stop only a few feet away. "We're here, Hobie, darling," said the Devil in Drag. "You're saved!" She did something with her upraised arms, dipped, then stood straight and waved her arms again. She made crowd noises with her open mouth.

"Red hots, get'em while they're hot! Hotter'n hell!" called the ape. He stepped out of the car wearing a candy butcher's apron over his tux and a peculiar wide, wooden box on a rope around his neck. The box was filled with short cylindrical objects wrapped in waxed paper. Carson smelled hot dogs.

The Devil in Drag squealed, "Here it comes again!" She stood tall and waved her arms frantically, dipped again then stood and waved some more.

"You wanna hot dog, sonny? Just fifty cents, t'ree for a dollar!" the ape asked. Carson could see now that the beast had human arms and legs and a face that looked almost cartoony, like Alley Oop, rather than a real gorilla.

Carson shook his head. "I don't believe this," he said.

Bill C. Bubb, whom Carson had mistaken for a gorilla (a common error), turned to Sophie Drake and reported. "He don't want no wiener sandwich."

The Devil in Drag leaned on the top of the windscreen of the Rover. "You're saved. We saved you. What's'a matter, Hobie? You could at least be grateful and eat a damned hot dog!" she said.

Carson looked around. He noticed that neither Sophie, nor Bill, nor the Land Rover cast any shadow. In fact, none of them had any of the sort of surface shadows that an ordinary three-dimensional object has plenty of in direct sunlight. They looked two-dimensional, like painted cut-outs, even though Bubb was close enough that Carson could smell the barbecued toad on his breath.

"You're not real," said Carson, shaking his head again. "That car isn't real. You can't take me anywhere in it."

Sophie and Bill exchanged looks. "I blame television," said Sophie.

"Computer games," suggested Bubb.

The Devil in Drag made the universal hand sign for "What's the difference?" and glared at Carson. "Too smart to get into Hell's Chariot or even to eat a snack from Hell's Kitchen?"

"You're just an hallucination, him, too." Carson indicated Bubb. "And that car. Hallucinations. I must have hit my head."

"I'm an hallucination?" asked Sophie. She climbed out of the Rover, her gown dragging in the sand. She turned toward Bubb. "I'm an hallucination?"

Bubb shrugged. "It's possible," he said. "We have been smoking toads." He put a clawed finger in one ear and produced toilet plunger noises by moving it in and out.

Sophie made a rude ethnic gesture at him and turned back to Carson. "Well, Mr. I-Wish-Someone-Would-Save-Me--I've got news for you!" She pointed with an elegantly gloved hand. "That's not a car, it's a Land Rover!"

"I better stay here in the shade," said Carson. "I could get brain damage in this heat. I'll walk out tonight." He settled back against the rock pile, sitting down in the shade and wishing, silently, that he hadn't dropped his helmet into the fire accidentally. If he still had it, he could pull the goggles down and put the earplugs in. It might not keep hallucinations out but he felt like he needed the psychological distance wearing a helmet would provide. He tried not to think about the lack of shadows cast by the two demons--except, he didn't know they were demons.

"You call this hot?" asked Sophie. She looked at Bubb and he looked at her and they both laughed. Then they went into a conference. "You think he's got brain damage?" she asked.

"He could have," said Bill. He polished one horny fist in the palm of the other hand and grinned. The box of hot dogs had simply disappeared along with the butcher's apron.

Sophie nodded. "It's an idea." She looked over at Carson. "Hey, how about if we get another ride for you, you don't want to go to Hell with us?"

"Whatever," Carson muttered. He pulled his knees up against his chest, crossed his arms on them and put his head down. He didn't want to look at them or hear them either but putting his fingers in his ears seemed childish. Especially after what Bubb had done.

"Picky bastard," said Bill. "It's too hot for him, he doesn't like our, uh, vehicle, and he won't eat hot dogs."

"Maybe we'll give him a passion for eating fucking wieners," Sophie muttered. "Brain damage can do some funny things."

Bill grinned even wider than before, lolling a long tongue out like a dog. "Arf," he said.

Sophie smiled. "Stand up, Hobie! Your ride will be here in a few minutes and you need to be ready."

Carson ignored her, keeping his head down.

"He's a self-righteous sort in a big black truck, but a sucker for anyone helpless. So we've got to make you more appealing," she said.

Carson shivered, as if with a chill. The feeling rippled over him. Something had happened, something had changed. Maybe the universe....

"Those rags have got to go," said Sophie. "Naked and defenseless, gets the Lancelot-types every time. That junk, too, you won't need it."

Carson's clothes vanished, along with his shoes and all his equipment. They were just gone. He felt sandy rock under his naked bottom. He yelped. "What the hell?" and stood up, quickly.

Bubb smiled at him and panted like a cartoon bulldog. "What the Hell?" he repeated.

"Exactly," said Sophie. "Naked isn't enough. A naked man is just ridiculous. A naked woman is something else entirely."

It felt exactly as if Carson's private parts had just been turned inside out and tucked up inside. She screamed.

Sophie said, "And of course, a pretty girl is better than one who might as well be a guy. Especially if she's petite and blonde and stacked."

The new woman shrank several inches; her hips spread out; breasts appeared and grew larger as her waist diminished. Curly blonde hair fell to mid-thigh. Her face and skin changed too; the wounds and burns disappearing first and soft, fair, new skin spread to replace Carson's mildly hairy, masculine appearance. Carson screamed again, her voice climbing at least an octave.

Sophie made a few more changes; a large pouty mouth and long full lashes that were startlingly dark. Big, blue eyes. Pierced ears with cheap dangling earrings. A navel ring, too, and a trio of pink and blue butterflies tattooed on her pale left thigh. "She's obviously got only one purpose in life," said the Devil in Drag. She laughed. "I'll fix it so the poor thing doesn't have to shave anywhere, too."

"More tits," said Bill.

"More tits?" said Sophie. She closed one eye and looked at Bubb. "You're kind of a freaky son-of-a-bitch, ain't you? Two's not enough? What, three, five? Eleven?"

"No, no, just make them bigger. Like one of them strippers who've got tits bigger than their heads." He nodded, drooling a little.

"Oh," said Sophie. "Well, I suppose."

"No, no, no!" Carson screamed. She turned to run. She felt herself shrinking again and her breasts growing.

"Don't let her get away," said Bubb. He took a few steps after her.

"Where's she going to go? It's all desert out there." Sophie followed, not hurrying.

"Yeah, but a girl looks like her, she's got no business running. She could hurt herself."

"Oh, like you're concerned about that." Sophie snorted, delicately.

Bill shrugged. "Maybe she knows where we can find some more toads. It's what we came here for." His nostrils dilated and quivered. It's possible that his brain squirmed.

The Devil in Drag gestured and Carson tripped, falling to her hands and knees. She looked around, dazed. Her breasts hung well past her elbows--and she had a shadow. "It's real," she murmured. "I'm real!"

Sophie and Bill walked toward her, laughing. "After this, we'll go to Japan and have some fugu," Sophie told her driver.

He made a face, like someone who had just died of paralyzed respiration. She laughed.

Carson tried to stand but something seemed wrong with her feet. Her back hurt and she had somehow ended up kneeling on her hair. The demons loomed close. "Please, please," she whimpered. "What did I do?"

"Don't forget the brain damage," said Sophie.

"Right," said Bill C. Bubb, drawing back a large fist. "Don't let anyone cut your hair, it'll make you stupid," he told her.

"Well, more stupid," said Sophie.

Carson noticed claws in place of fingernails on Bubb's fist just before the daylight went out.

continued...