Long ago a magic user of normal skill came across the Medallion of Zulo. Divining its purpose on the first day he studied the item for weeks figuring out every nuance of the mystic item. Using a specially designed box and a ring of the same metal, he was able to link some abilities of the medallion to the ring. Not satisfied he tried several more times to add the full abilities to the ring, but nothing changed. In the end she lost the medallion and surprisingly happy with her new role as a witch.

Unknown number of generations later

Photo by: Bruno Tavares
https://www.flickr.com/photos/brunotavaresfotografia/albums/...

Life sure takes some rather interesting, heck, even what I'd call weird turns, let me tell ya!

I bet you won't believe that, just a few days ago, I was Ransom Bermondsey, up and coming movie and TV star here in wonderful LA!

Yeah, yeah, I'm not actually famous. Well, let me restate that, who I used to be wasn't actually famous.

This, then, is the story of what happened to me when my cousin Jezabelle and her twin sister Jazmin wreaked havoc with the Gloo!

The encounter with Carl Delaforge in "Commutation" was a bit depressing so let’s cheer up and revisit the family from “Where did I go wrong?”, only two years later. If you haven’t read that story this will contain spoilers.

I was not feeling very well coming down into the living room that Saturday morning. What I saw there did NOT make me feel any better. The room was a mess! A ridiculously short, and expensive looking, sparkly blue dress on the floor. On the same floor some flimsy lace black thong panties featured prominently. Black 5 inch heel shoes thrown around, one on the floor, the other in an armchair. A bra, that matched the panties in material, color and sexiness, in the other armchair. Stockings, and garter belt draped across the back of the couch. A couch that by all evidence had been used to have wild, wanton sex on. Fortunately I couldn’t see any stains and the used condom had missed the carpet, Who could be responsible for this?

Cheryl? No, she’d never wear five inch heels. Wait, five inch heels? Michael!!!

A weak January sun was shining through my bedroom window when I awoke at about 9:00. From my position in my bed I could see that I had hung up the evening gown, but the rest of my clothes from yesterday were just dumped on a chair. I patted my hair. It was still in what remained of the french twist from yesterday. I got out of bed and put a robe on over my pajamas and headed to the bathroom. A quick glimpse into the mirror revealed that I had done a poor job removing my makeup when I went to bed. I took down what was left of the french twist and with some cold cream and tissues I attacked my face, only to find that yesterday’s makeup was resisting removal. During this procedure my stomach began growling.

Walking back home from Aurora's Halloween party, Underdog and the cosmonaut were far from the strangest thing on the streets this warm Halloween weekend night. It seemed all the frustrated creativity in West Hollywood came out that night.

“Ruble for your thought” I said in my lame attempt at a 'Natasha' accent.
He chuckled quietly. “I was just thinking about that guy at the party. The one who gave me his card. I told him I don't do musical impressions.... well, not singers.... sure, I can play like anyone from Hendrix to Alvino Rey, but.... voices? ….man, that's something else.... still he seems to think we could do something together. ….I have no idea what.....”

“One way to find out.” I said quietly. “Call the guy Monday.” Colin nodded but remained lost in thought. “...but if he wants you to come in the underdog costume... hang up!”

That worked. Colin let out one loud laugh. And the grin returned to his face as he came back to the present.

Colin and I were inseparable through the holiday season.

He thinks I don’t notice. It’s in his eyes and the stillness of his breath, hidden behind ravenous sex so meek that anyone else might fail to notice. After three years of marriage, and another two of dating on top of that, there’s very little I can’t see.

“You might as well give it up Casey. No one is going to hire you for an acting job, especially a male role. You look like you could be my little sister or in a kiddy show.”

Casey had barely made it back in time for his shift at Pete’s Steak House. He looks at Harry as he slips his apron on over his black t-shirt. He was lucky that he remembered to keep a change of clothes for work in his 1998 Mustang. The body needed some work and it had an oil leak, but it got him where he needed to go. He could fix it, thanks to his uncle showing him how to work on cars at his garage.